A Picture

張貼日期：Feb 28, 2013 7:30:5 AM

A Picture

Ding Chang

      The woman in the picture is with a tranquil expression looking out of the window, and yet it is the dusk that she gazes at. I cannot see her face, but her portrait is reflected on the window pane. A fair appearance she has, as I behold: black silky hair, milky white skin, lips not red but pink. The dim red light decorating her cheeks with peaceful warmth makes you feel all the joy. Who is she? She is the woman who gave my birth in her younger age. Oh, mother, you are not pretty, but captivating! How dare time has stolen your youth, let the wrinkles besiege your eyebrows, and left trenches around your eyes! How cruel life has treated you with all the bitterness, bent your bones and returned you fatigue! I will never forgive it; let me by your sweet seed of revenge. I must grow and grow and grow until one day I have a child of my own, who will inherit all of your beauty. And by the time he becomes mature —we will rest in consolation. Because we know even Nature cannot break down our lineage, and we mock at it with grasses growing.