驿外断桥边,寂寞开无主。已是黄昏独自愁,更著风和雨。无意苦争春,一任群芳妒。零落成泥碾作尘,只有香如故。陆游这首《卜算子·咏梅》,我自幼喜爱,却一直未能深味其中的沉郁孤怆是何所来兮何所终。直到垂暮——今年适逢东京审判70周年,我不禁忆及70年前傲立东京的梅汝璈先生,以及我在外交部与他共事时的所见所闻。翻阅故纸,前后思量,我不由得掩卷长叹,却原来,那字字珠玑,正是梅先生的黄昏写 Station outside the bridge, lonely open no owners. It is dusk alone, more wind and rain. Unintentional bitter spring, Ren Qunfang jealous. Muddy into dust, only fragrant as before. Lu You this song, “Bu operator sub-plum,” I loved since childhood, but has been unable to deep flavor of the lonely whereabouts come from anywhere. Until twilight - This year coincides with the 70th anniversary of the Tokyo trial, I can not but recall the memory of Mr. ME Rao, who stood proudly in Tokyo 70 years ago, and what I heard while working with him in the Foreign Ministry. Read the paper, think before and after, I can not help but cover up a long sigh, but the original, that every word, it is Mr. Mei’s dusk