当我读到《金融时报》头版报道中国四川为震中的7.9级大地震的这个标题时，我的心颤抖了。“每过一会儿，鞭炮声就响起,告诉人们发现了又一具尸体，然后哀号声就又开始了。”稍后又看到南华早报头版的照片，是几个死去的孩子，身体部分掩埋在他们坍塌了的学校的瓦砾碎片中。我整个身体颤抖了，泪不觉涌上来。
我记忆中也有一次地震。32年前这场地震从一个中国北方城市中夺走了二十多万生命。我模糊记得在一个初夏拂晓的黑暗中，有多彩的光在窗外，有碎石摇落的声音，床在晃，爸爸叫醒我们从我家所在的大灰楼往外跑。直到那年深冬,我们才回到这个大灰楼里。全大院儿的人都挤到了车库和外面的空地中,每家在这里支起一、两张
床和蚊帐。我父母后来用各种颜色的塑料布搭起了全大院第一个防震棚，我在周围跑跑跳跳,快乐而自豪。之后一个多月, 妹妹作为一个新生婴儿从医院直接住进了这个塑料的家。 是的， 我用了“快乐”这个词，它的确准确形容了我当时在震后这几个月中作为一个小孩儿的感受 – 无忧无虑，不上学，没人管，尽情游戏，象野猫一样自由……
孩子总是用与大人不同的眼光看世界，而星期一在地震中失去生命的孩子们却再也不能看世界了,他们在世上的最后时光也是充满恐惧。我无法从脑海中抹去躺在碎瓦中那些小小躯体的样子，这也完全改变了我对自己所稍稍经历了的那场地震的感受。准确地说，把灾难后那几个月回忆成一段快乐时光，我深感内疚。
在我写下这些文字的时候，一定有鞭炮声又在响起；在我写下这些文字的时候，我心中只有悲哀。
我记忆中也有一次地震。32年前这场地震从一个中国北方城市中夺走了二十多万生命。我模糊记得在一个初夏拂晓的黑暗中，有多彩的光在窗外，有碎石摇落的声音，床在晃，爸爸叫醒我们从我家所在的大灰楼往外跑。直到那年深冬,我们才回到这个大灰楼里。全大院儿的人都挤到了车库和外面的空地中,每家在这里支起一、两张
床和蚊帐。我父母后来用各种颜色的塑料布搭起了全大院第一个防震棚，我在周围跑跑跳跳,快乐而自豪。之后一个多月, 妹妹作为一个新生婴儿从医院直接住进了这个塑料的家。 是的， 我用了“快乐”这个词，它的确准确形容了我当时在震后这几个月中作为一个小孩儿的感受 – 无忧无虑，不上学，没人管，尽情游戏，象野猫一样自由……孩子总是用与大人不同的眼光看世界，而星期一在地震中失去生命的孩子们却再也不能看世界了,他们在世上的最后时光也是充满恐惧。我无法从脑海中抹去躺在碎瓦中那些小小躯体的样子，这也完全改变了我对自己所稍稍经历了的那场地震的感受。准确地说，把灾难后那几个月回忆成一段快乐时光，我深感内疚。
在我写下这些文字的时候，一定有鞭炮声又在响起；在我写下这些文字的时候，我心中只有悲哀。
My heart shivered, when I read this title of Financial Times' front page story on the 7.9 magnitude earthquake on May 12th with its epicentre in China's south-western Sichuan province. "Every so often the crackle of fireworks signalled another body had been found and the wailing began again". Then I spot from SCMP's front page the picture of dead children partly buried in rubbles of their collapsed school building. My whole body started to shiver and tears filled my eyes.
I too have memory of an earthquake, which wiped out 240,000 lives from a northern Chinese city 32 years ago. Vaguely I remember colourful lights, sound of falling rocks and shaking of the bed when my father woke us up in the darkness of an early summer dawn, to escape from our home in a big grey building. Not until deep into the winter did we return. The whole compound crowded into a large garage and the open areas outside it. The space for each family was merely one or two beds with mosquito nets. Then my parents built up the first emergency shelter in the whole compound with plastics of different colours, and I was running around, happy and proud. A month later, my new born younger sister came back from the hospital into this plastic home. Yes, I used the word “happy”, because the word exactly described how I felt for these few post-disaster months as a child - no worry, no pain, no school, less rules, as fun and free as a wild cat... ...
Children always see the world differently from adults, but these children who lost their lives on Monday will never see the world again. I cannot erase the picture of their small bodies lying in the mud, and this has changed how I feel about my own earthquake. Precisely, I feel guilty for remembering it as a happy time.
As I write, fireworks must have crackled again and again; as I write, grief was all I could feel.
Children always see the world differently from adults, but these children who lost their lives on Monday will never see the world again. I cannot erase the picture of their small bodies lying in the mud, and this has changed how I feel about my own earthquake. Precisely, I feel guilty for remembering it as a happy time.
As I write, fireworks must have crackled again and again; as I write, grief was all I could feel.
