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二胡声

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发表时间:2020-09-16 10:37

悠扬的二胡声,久久徘徊在我心头,隐埋在我的记忆深处。


——题记


漫步雨中,撑一把素伞,嗅着花香,夹杂着泥土的清香,耳边传来一阵悠扬却又伤感的二胡声。我皱了皱眉,不住好奇:雨中,竟还有人拉二胡?


如此悠扬的二胡声,竟是用他那双老茧满布的手拉出来的!我对他的印象大打折扣,不禁有些鄙弃。我冷冷踱步过去,在他面前的碗里放了10元,转过身。


“小姑娘。”正欲离开,就听见他叫住了我,不禁回首:“嗯?不够?”我打心底嫌弃他:贪心!那个老人停止了拉二胡,仅仅说了一句:“我是一个艺人。”


我挑起眉,口中略有讥讽:“哦?艺人?”他的脸色沉了下来:“姑娘,艺人不是乞丐。如今我靠双手赚钱。是因为当初……”


我并没有容许他讲完,便打断了他:“呵!当初?早知今日,何必当初!”我越来越来看不起这位老人:虚伪!“当初不珍惜时光,虚度年华,姑娘,我劝诫你:一寸光阴一寸金,寸金难买寸光阴。”语罢,便又拉起了二胡。


果真是一语点醒梦中人:一寸光阴一寸金,寸金难买寸光阴。


不禁打量起这位老人:布满皱纹的脸是岁月镌刻的花纹,岁月的风霜渲白了他的发梢。越发悠扬的二胡声,却夹杂了丝丝伤感,屡屡情怀。


他是在用二胡声告诉世人:一寸光阴一寸金,寸金难买寸光阴。


时光,从我们的指缝间逝去,我们却从未发觉,而当我们发觉,想要抓住它的时刻,它却已经消失得无影无踪。人生,由时间构造,时间的消逝,也意味人生走到尽头。


青春年华,不容我们挥霍;短暂人生,亦需我们珍惜。


雨中,传来那悠扬的二胡声,夹杂着那“一寸光阴一寸金,寸金难买寸光阴”,共同隐埋在我的记忆深处。


参考翻译:

The melodious erhu sound lingered in my mind for a long time, buried deep in my memory.


-Inscription


Walking in the rain, holding a plain umbrella, smelling the flowers, mingled with the fragrance of the earth, a melodious but sad erhu sound came from my ear. I frowned and couldn't help wondering: in the rain, there were people playing erhu?


Such melodious erhu sound was pulled out with his calluses! My impression of him has been greatly reduced, and I can't help despising him. I paced coldly, put 10 yuan in the bowl in front of him, and turned around.


"Little girl." Just about to leave, I heard him stop me, and I couldn't help looking back: "Hmm? Not enough? " I dislike him from the bottom of my heart: greedy! The old man stopped playing erhu and just said, "I am an artist."


I raised my eyebrows with a slight sarcasm in my mouth: "Oh? Artist? " His face sank: "Girl, artists are not beggars. Now I earn money with my hands. Because at the beginning ... "


I didn't allow him to finish, so I interrupted him: "Oh! At the beginning? If I knew today, why should I be at the beginning! " I look down on the old man more and more: hypocrisy! "I didn't cherish the time at the beginning and wasted my time, girl, I advise you: one inch of time is one inch of gold, and it is difficult to buy one inch of time." Language, then pull up the erhu.


It is really a word to wake the dreamer: one inch of time is one inch of gold, and one inch of gold is hard to buy.


I can't help but look at the old man: his wrinkled face is a pattern engraved by years, and the wind and frost of years have made his hair white. The increasingly melodious erhu sound is mixed with a lot of sadness and feelings.


He is telling the world with erhu sound: One inch of time is one inch of gold, and one inch of gold cannot buy one inch of time.


Time passes through our fingers, but we never find it. When we find it and want to seize it, it has disappeared without a trace. Life is constructed by time, and the passing of time also means the end of life.


Youth, we can not squander; We should cherish our short life.


In the rain, there came the melodious erhu sound, mixed with the phrase "every inch of time is worth every inch of gold, and every inch of time is hard to buy", which was buried in my memory together.


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