一4月26日下午,我站在玉树结古镇扎西大同一片废墟上,废墟并不像人们通常形容的到处残垣断壁,而是粉末似的铺开去,像被推土机碾压过。一根乌黑的房柱斜插在土里,西垂的太阳照过去,影子又细又长。两个小男孩拿着一张刊登着大幅地震照片的报纸在看,一个小女孩坐在一堆砖头上望着远方的山和山顶的云,一个小阿卡手里捏着吃了一半的苹果看上去不忍一口咬下,一位老阿妈在瓦砾里翻拣着还可能派上用场的物件,不远处三两只羊在啃噬能够充饥的纸片,一只藏獒紧贴地面趴着,听到响声,轻微抬一下头,复又闭眼睡去。 On the afternoon of April 26, I stood on the same piece of debris in the Tashi Town, Yushu Town, and the ruins did not look like the ruins that people commonly described. Instead, they were powdered and rolled like bulldozers. A black pillar obliquely inserted in the soil, the west of the sun shines in the past, thin and long shadow. The two boys were watching with a newspaper in the middle of a huge earthquake photo. A little girl sat on a pile of bricks looking out into the mountains and the clouds at a distance. A little ack held half an apple in his hand. Looks unbearable to bite, an old lady in the rubble in the sorting may also come in handy items, not far from thirty-two sheep eating a feeding piece of paper, a Tibetan Mastiff close to the ground lying , Heard the sound, slightly raised his head, complex and closed eyes to sleep.