昏黄的油灯下,翠巧爹盘腿坐在炕上。光线从他那一动不动的身后洒过来,在后墙上晕出一圈昏暗的投影。镜头定格在他的脸部特写上:额上刀刻似的皱纹在又粗又黑的眉宇间凝成一个深深的“V”字,臃肿的下眼睑耷拉着往下垂。机械地合着嘴,肌肉紧绷着,画面就这么静止——简直象一幅油画,又象是一尊泥塑。 Dim light lamp, Tsui Joe’s father sitting on the kang. Light spilled from behind his motionless, dizzy dizzy projection on the back wall. Lens fixed in his facial features on: forehead knife-like wrinkles in the thick black brow gel into a deep “V”, bloated lower eyelid drooping to droop. With his mouth shut mechanically, his muscles tense, the picture is still - almost like an oil painting, and like a clay sculpture.