逃　亡

   The Escape （VII E）

         *      XIII      *

Hiking and hiding, hiking and riding,

        we hurriedly fled southward.

Begging for food, longing for freedom,

        we soon came to Pearl River.

Thereat, several men told us,

        they no longer allowed us to desert.

“Get away from the railroad,

        take a course with much less danger!”

Hong Kong was still faraway,

        must be by way of a rural route.

There was no proper transport,

        had to cover the distance on foot.

We  passed a village then a town,

        crossed a river then a brook;

Went over ridges, around mountains,

        across plains and through woods.

However, we both felt that          

        the more we hurried on,

The more we were worried,

        and more fear were tacked on.

Moreover, we soon felt that

        the further we trudged along,

The further we were tired,

       and the road was further long.   

My wife was not healthy,    

        her back was flimsy, feet feeble; 

Now looked very sickly, quite unsteady,

        frequently would stall or stumble.

I myself was half tough fashioned,    

        my back was weak, legs soft;

Now felt quite worn and very sore,

        repeatedly should pant and pause.

That day after wading another river   

        and climbing up one more ridge,

She plopped down at the roadside

        to rub both her legs and feet.

Looking at the high mountains ahead,

        she panted weakly and rapidly.

Looking at the setting sun in the west,

        tears rushed down her cheeks.

“It’s not that I do not want to walk,

         any longer – Further! Farther!

Because my heart is terribly throbbing,

         my body has no more vigor.

Let me stop here, to have some rest,

        until I am a little stronger;

Then we two may get down the hill

        to seek… a night shelter.”

I was also bone tired.

        I too wanted some rest.

Dizzily I move to her,

       to offer my comfort and help.

Lightly I patted her back,

       then quickly felt her head.

Oh, God, she was trembling,

       and her temperature was high!

“It seems I am not well,

         I’ll collapse, I’ll swoon.    

I am afraid I can’t follow you,

        any more, to our goal.

My child, our child...

        I’ll leave him... to you.

Freedom, free life...

        you must taste it... alone.”

As she stopped talking,

        she fainted with a groan.

Her body was stiff, breath stopped,

        her eyes and jaws tightly closed.

So frightened was I!

        What should I do!?

Hurriedly I shook her and called her,

        pressed her chest, pinched her nose.

After a long time she groaned,

       eventually moved and awoke.

Weakly she gasped and sighed,

        blindly opened her eyes to look.

She sought my hand and held it,

        nodded at me and moaned.

With another hand pointed at me,

        then pointed toward the road.

Again she closed her eyes,

        shed tears and shook her head.

Again she fainted on the ground,

        lay there stiffly, seemingly dead.

Once more I shook her and called her,

        she slightly stirred and slowly revived.

But, this time, I realized that --

        she probably would really die!

All night she lay there mumbling,

        repeatedly panted and sighed.

Occasionally she clung to me or pulled at me,

        at the same time softly sobbed or cried.

Frequently she tossed and turned,

        constantly she wriggled or writhed.

Toward dawn she groaned and trembled,

        after a long while -- finally died.

      *      XIV      *

Holding her hand I raised my head,

        so painfully I wept, and loudly cried.

More loudly, painfully my cries echoed back;

        the valley was deep, mountains were high.

Faraway an owl, and an ape, cried too;

        it was soul gripping in the dark night.

I felt more sorrowful, more lonely,

        as those insects weeping nearby.

Morning came, I searched the surroundings,

        finally found a pit on the hillside.

It located at an opening, toward the east,

        with scenery beautiful and views wide.

There was no coffin, no crate,

        no new clothes nor any wrap.  

Tearing down twigs, picking up stones,

        carefully I buried her to rest.

Piling up some stones as sacrifice,

        I called her and talk to her myself.

“My wife... my dearest...

        beloved mother of my only child.

Thousands of miles we had fled,

        faraway now from our riverside.

Our purpose, was it only...

        to be buried upon a strange hillside?

 “Yes, we want freedom; we want food.

        Soon we’ll get them, will be free!

But you can’t enjoy it, abandon it;

       leave it all, solely to me.

Now I am only one piece, have one shadow,

       with crippled wings and lame feet.

But the road is still long, aim is far,

      and the prospect is rather dim, indeed.

“Anyway I shall leave.

        I alone should forward go.

I cannot stay here with you,

        linger long on this slope.

You did not say it clearly,

        but very well I know:

We two had a secret,  

        both, had another hope.

“Now you are in a strange land,

        being a strange ghost.

You should take care yourself,

        determine things on your own.

Someday when I come back,

        I am sure will come here to you.

Then I’ll prepare a coffin…

        to move you back home.”

I plucked some welcome-spring,

        and stuck them on the grave bed.  

Pulled up two evergreen seedlings,

        planted them at the grave’s sides.

Erected a piece of bigger stone

        in front of her grave’s head.

Covered her once again

        with stones of various sizes.

By the situation of the rivers and mountains,

        I tried to memorize the grave’s site.

On both the calendars I counted the date,

        but couldn’t be sure they were right.

Stopping my weeping and mumbling,

       I kowtowed three more times.

Swallowing my sorrow, sweeping my tears,

       I staggered down the hillside.             

To be continued