In the middle of a beautiful day, I was feeling lost, as if the world was crashing in on me. I didn't know which way to go, except to head out to the countryside. On days like this I love to find a place where silence rule where the wind in the tall pine trees sounds like ocean waves crashing along some deserted beach I've walked along in my memory.

 

在一个美好的日子里，我觉得很迷茫，似乎整个世界在向我压来。除了去乡间，我不知道自己该去哪里。在这种时候，我总是喜欢找一个宁静的地方，在那里，风从高高耸立的松树间穿过，听起来就像是海浪拍打着我记忆中曾漫步过的某个荒芜的沙滩。

At first I headed to the city park. Not very countryside-like, but close enough to begin my journey inward. I went to the spot where I used to take my kids-when I still had kids. That might give you an idea of what my wretched day was all about: My kids grew up and I didn't.

我首先去了城市公园。那里虽然并没有太多的乡间气息，可那里很近，我可以很快就开始我的心灵之旅。我来到以前我常常带孩子玩耍的地方——那时我还有孩子。现在你可能已经知道我为什么情绪低落了——我的孩子都长大了，而我却没变。

After getting my fill of moms and dads running, laughing, and swinging their time away together with their kids, I headed out to a nearby state park. Here ducks and crane rabbits and deer, all clamor for your attention, and replace the pain of the day with awe and wonder. Here, with the prolonging of winter and the yearning for spring, life, as we humans know it, stands still. Here birds fly whenever they want, wherever they want. The snow, remnant of colder days, still clings on to the ground. The ground is soft and soggy, giving hope to the grass that eagerly waits beneath, that very soon it will rise awake from its slumber, and will carpet once again the hills and pathways of the park, for residents and visitors alike.

在城市公园，父母与他们的小孩奔跑、欢笑、一起度过他们的快乐时光的画面充斥我的脑海。接着，我来到附近的一个州立公园。在这里，鸭子、鹤、兔子，还有鹿吵吵闹闹，吸引了你的注意，让你在敬畏和惊奇中忘记了一天的苦恼。在这里，寒冬迟迟未走，春天久候不至，我们知道，这个时候生命是沉寂的。在这里，鸟儿们随心所欲地自由飞翔。寒冬留下的残雪依旧紧紧地贴着地面。地面柔软而潮湿，给正在地下焦急等待的小草带来了希望——很快它们就要从沉睡中醒来，然后再次铺满山丘，铺满公园里居民和游客行走的小路。

I sat alone in my car, listening to songs that brought back memories…Memories of the days when I was "Daddy", and of challenging dares to "Walk across the creek on this log like me, Dad!"

我独自坐在车里，听着那些让人陷入回忆的歌曲。回忆里有我被人叫做“爸爸”的日子，还有来自孩子们的挑战：“爸爸，像我刚才那样从这根木头上过河。”

It was nearly spring, and the child in us all heads for the attic to dust off the old kite, which would take us higher every year. On one end of its string glorious colors float like rainbows; on the other end-grown-up kids swear that they "just want to get it flying!" "You can take over in a minute, sweetheart."

春天快到了，我们内心深处的童真促使我们冲进阁楼，抖落旧风筝上的灰尘。那些风筝会让我们每年都飞得更高。在风筝线的这头，五颜六色的线如同天边的彩虹；线的另一头是已经长大的小孩，他们信誓旦旦地说着：“只是想让它飞起来！” “宝贝，你马上就可以接过去自己放风筝了。”

There I sat-with all my troubles and woes, much too sensitive to life to begin with-discovering how life goes on for everyone else, even as mine seemed to stop for a while.

 

内心充满苦恼和忧伤的我，本来就对即将开始的新生活过于敏感。我坐在那里，发现即使我的生活似乎暂时停了下来，但其他人的生活依然在继续。

Just then I saw a man, whose problems appeared bigger than mine. He looked to be in his seventies and, although careful with his steps, quite spry for his age. He stood near the edge of the road, holding a kite spindle in his hands.

就在这时候，我看到了一个似乎比我更苦恼的男人。他看上去七十多岁的样子，虽然他走路很小心，但他的步伐对他这个年龄的人来说还算很敏捷。他站在路边，手里拿着一个风筝线锭。

Seemingly lost in thought, he stared skyward. I stretched my neck to see how successful he had been in reaching the clouds. Following his string with my eye, I almost lost sight of the other end. Could he possibly have sailed his wind-driven dream chariot to the very edge where the blue skies met the blackness of the earth?

他仰起头往天上看，似乎陷入了沉思。我伸长了脖子，想看看他能否成功地让风筝飞入云端。我的目光紧跟着他手中的风筝线往上看，几乎看不到另一头。难道他真的成功地让那辆承载着梦想的战车乘风去到了蓝天与黑土相交的边际？

No, not quite. His string ended just beyond a tall tree, floating across two others, nestling the kite atop of what seemed to be the highest branch of the tallest tree in the park. I drew nearer and, without speaking a word, stood beside the man, gazing in astonishment at this accomplishment.

不对，没有。他手中的线牵引着风筝飞过了一棵高耸的树，又飞过另外两棵树，然后在一棵看起来是公园里最高的树的最高枝丫上停了下来。我走了过去，一言不发，站在那个男人旁边，惊奇地看着他的“成就”。

There for all the world to see, was his grandson’s kite! The kite was a replica of a beautiful Bald Eagle, its wings spread wide open. As the wind rushed through the treetop making the plastic wings flutter and flap, it looked so real…

显然，那是他孙子的风筝。那只风筝的造型是一只美丽的白头鹫，舒展着宽大的双翼。风吹过树梢时，那只白头鹫的一双塑料翅膀会拍打着翩然起飞，看起来那么逼真……