Rain had darkened the mountain path.
My son walked ahead,
light on his feet,
as if he had not yet learned
how rough the path
through this world can be.
I followed behind,
walking slowly.
Rain ran over the stones,
bending the bamboo low.
Mist gathered in the valley,
then drifted apart.
When we reached the stone figure—
Husband and Wife Holding Their Child—
I saw only the mother
with the child in her arms;
the father
was hidden in mist.
Water slipped down my face.
I let it fall.
I could not tell
rain from tears.
I stood there for a long time,
looking at that ancient rock,
weathered by wind and rain
yet enduring.
Slowly, my heart began to settle.
I walked on with my son,
without looking back.
To keep walking.
To live on.
一路前行
山路濕了，
兒子走在前面，
腳步輕快，
像還不知道
人間的路有多少崎嶇。
我在他身後，慢慢走著。
雨洗石徑，竹葉低垂，
霧在谷間聚了又散。
走到夫妻抱子石前，
只見母親抱著孩子；
父親隱在霧裡。
雨滑過我的臉，我沒有擦。
雨淚難分。
古老石峰歷經風雨，
仍然屹立。
看了良久，心慢慢定了，
陪著兒子繼續往前，
不再回頭。
活著，
活著。
