等待女儿

2016-03-18 13.14.21

我取消了研究小组的周五例会
来到钟塔台阶前等待女儿
今天,树人小学二年级班参观伯克利校园
妻子嘱咐我,中午十二点的时候
小朋友们在这里午餐

上午的雾散了,台阶上远远看得到海湾
孩子们还没有出现,等待的时候
我把军绿色外套脱下拎在手里
远方水面朦胧似有金光闪烁
像神谕,昭示重大事件来临

我在石阶上坐下,很多人从身旁走过
刚下课的大学生,参观校园的中学生
成群远道来的游客不停地照相
我大概也被他们摄入镜头,连同这身皇马球衣
(那是儿子最喜爱的球队)

我摘下墨镜,在Kindle上读卡瓦菲斯的诗
对面开花的树下坐着两对情侣
几句普通话不经意地花香里传来
我回过头去,是一位母亲
在对又高又壮的儿子絮叨着什么

孩子们还没有出现
我抬头看看大钟,时针没移动分毫
其实我早晨刚送女儿上学
在校门口她把我自行车往外推
“你可以走了,再见爸爸。”
和平时一样大大咧咧没有礼貌

她知道我会在这儿等她
因为信息学院楼就在钟塔旁边
我坐在石阶上
一会看远方人流,一会看大钟指针
一生所有的约会
没有哪一次比即将到来这一刻更让我期待

远远地我终于看见
阳光里一大群孩子,在老师带领下排着队走来
一进校园,队形很快乱了
孩子们在雨后草地上追逐
跑的最快的那个就是我将要八岁的女儿
她的头发在风中飘,鞋子沾满了泥
和每天回家的样子一样

她还没有看见我—她的父亲
自远处高高的石阶上凝望着她
校园里成百上千的人川流不息
远方海水朦胧似有金光闪烁
她栗色的头发在风中飘,新球鞋沾满了泥巴
和每天回家的样子一样

这时钟声响了,这时她看见了我
我站在石阶上向她挥手
女儿也挥着手向我跑来
我知道,她会和平时放学回家见到我一样
骑到我肩上,拍着我的头,喊着
“再高一点呀,再快一点,大马!爸爸!”

这是我一生最骄傲的时刻

2016-3-18

2016-03-18 13.02.48

Waiting for my daughter

I cancelled my Friday afternoon research group
And came to the clock tower stairs to await my daughter
Today, the Shu Ren second grade will come visit the Berkeley campus
My wife reminded me, at noon the children would eat lunch here

The morning fog has lifted, from the top of the stairs I can see the faraway Bay
The children haven’t appeared yet, while I am waiting
I remove my army green jacket and hold it in my hands
The distant water has a hazy sparkle
Like a message from God, declaring a major event

I sit on the stone steps, many people pass by
Students just out of class, high school students touring campus
Hordes of visitors, all taking photographs
I probably appear in their photos, together with my Real Madrid jersey (my son’s favorite soccer team)

I take off my sunglasses, on my Kindle I read Cavafy’s poems
Across from me under the blossoms of a tree I see two young couples
A few words of Mandarin float over with the scent of the flowers
I turn around and see a mother nagging a son who towers over her

The children have still not appeared
I look up and see the clock, the minute hand hasn’t moved
I just sent my daughter to school this morning
At the school gate, she pushed my bike out
“You can go. Goodbye, Baba.”
Like always, she is rough and impolite

She knows I will wait for her here
Because the School of Information is next to the clock tower
I sit on the stone steps
Watching the distant flow of people, watching the hand of the clock
Of all the dates I’ve had in my life,
I have never anticipated one more than this

In the distance I finally see
A group of children in the sun, lined up behind their teacher
As they enter the campus, their neat line breaks up
The children chase each other on the grass fresh from rain
That one who runs the fastest is my almost eight-year-old daughter
Her hair blows in the breeze, her shoes are covered in mud
Just like everyday when she arrives home

She still hasn’t seen me, her father
Who is gazing at her from the distance on the stone steps
The campus has become a river of people coming and going
The distant water has a hazy sparkle
Her chestnut hair blows in the wind, her new sneakers covered in mud
Just like everyday when she arrives home

At this moment the clock tower chimes, at this moment she sees me
I stand on the stone steps and wave
My daughter also waves and runs to me
I know, she will do what she always does when she sees me after school
Ride on my shoulders, pat my head and shout,
“Higher, faster, big horsey! Baba!”

This is the proudest moment of my life

2016-3-18