这是我曾经写过的一个梦境，诡异的梦。一年前曾试图翻译成英文，但自觉难度太大而放弃，现在慢慢译出来，准不准确没人在乎，我努力了。
I had more than once come over to the only one lone village which was on the hillside.
Whatever the cause, I forgot everything about before since I sudden appeared on the dirt road of the village.
It’s getting dark. The only road in the village, piled on either side by haystacks and woods,
which was always dusty. From the edge of village to the foot of the hill, the twisted path traced its way through the small town, and the piles found their way down the hill just like a narrow alley my childhood used to dream it.
When I stood at the entrance of the village as usual, my memory became a complete blank. I didn’t want to think about past anymore. After frequent experiences, I had learned to get used to all things.
I saw that the village just didn’t seem very different from usual as I arrived late at dusk. Several houses lit the kerosene lamps up and the dim flames cast some shapes trambling on the wall.
Walking by front of those houses, I saw family warm breath from each opened wood door, through thatched roof, pushing up to the air, rapidly risen into the dark sky.
I loitered aimlessly along the rough path where I was familiar, even closing my eyes, I still able to round every pit.
The scene was silent. There were no frogs in spring, no cicadas in summer, no insects in autumn, no snowfall in winter, no sunshine in the daytime, no moonlight at night, no a sound could be heard. I hadn’t even seen a sign of life except shadow which was on the mud wall.
I thought that perhaps for this reason I could appear here as I had lost my memory. Feeling the blood in my body, talking to my heart, I could see my fresh thoughts and nobody would disturb me.
I always leave here involuntarily before the dawn coming.
To be continue......
这个座落在半山腰上的孤零零的小山村，我不止一次地来过了。
不论什么原因，当我突然出现在村子口的土街上时，我都会忘记之前所有的事，记忆只是从进村的那一霎那开始的。
每一次来，都是在黄昏时分，天似黑却未黑。村中唯一的一条土街永远是尘土飞扬的，两边堆积的草垛和木材垛占了土街的三分之二，中间余留一米多宽的空间只够面对面的行人擦肩而过。这条土街斜斜地贯穿整个村庄，从村口处一直斜插下山，两边的垛子也顺路堆下去，像我儿时梦中飘移过的那条窄巷。
这一次，我站在村口，像以往的许多次一样，记忆中一片空白。我已不像开始时那样地去努力回想之前的事，一件事反复经历多次后，我便学会了随遇而安。
村庄于往常没什么不同，只是我比以往迟到了一些时间，黄昏已过，天也黑透。几户人家点起了煤油灯，昏黄的火苗把人的影子放大数倍地映在土坯墙上，摇摇晃晃地自导自演着皮影戏。
我从一家家的门口走过，看着每户敞开的木门里温暖的气息穿透茅草屋顶，袅袅升腾，转瞬消失在黑魆魆的夜空中。
我在土街上漫无目的地游荡，我对此熟悉到甚至能闭着眼睛看清道路，那路在我心里已刻下印记，我不必用眼睛看着走过，我的心会引领我绕过脚下每一处坑凹。
四周寂静，万籁无声。这村子春无蛙唱、夏无蝉鸣、秋无虫啼、冬无雪飘、昼无日、夜无月、清晨无霞光、黄昏无余晖，更没有鸡鸣狗吠，甚至除了映在土坯墙上的人影外，我从未真正见过这里的村民。
我想这大概就是我在失忆时能出现在此的原因。我可以来这里听自己血液流淌的声音，在自己的冥想世界里与自己的心交谈，没有人会在此刻扰乱我的心绪。几乎静止的世界里，我看得到我的思想如万马般奔腾。
我总是在黎明到来前夕身不由已地离开这里。
（待续）
