薄雪纷纷，寒岁终至。沙发上的慵懒，球场上的喧哗，学生们终于迎来了期盼已久的假期。没有恣意怡然的逍遥，亦无藏修游息的苦闷，我的寒假生活却多了一份别样的感悟与疲惫。
There are thin snow, the end of cold. Lazy on the sofa, loud on the court, the students finally ushered in the long-awaited holiday. There is no carefree and carefree, and there is no depression of Tibetan cultivation. My winter vacation life has a different feeling and fatigue.
寒假伊始，日子过得平淡如水，直到父母决定自驾带我回到阔别五年的四川老家。自驾回乡听起来十分惬意自由，对我而言着实是一种煎熬。历经十几个小时的艰辛，我们终于临近了四川地界。高速公路两旁群山环绕，行在途中忽然起雾，缥缈的雾霭不请自来，一如相交多年的故友，一别经年，熟悉而又陌生。远近的山峰形影绰绰，偶尔，几座爬满青苔的旧屋被雾气遗忘在路旁，那苍然的翠色是时间的刻痕，引人遐想万千。或闻几声清脆的鸟鸣，宛转悠扬，萦绕心头，在一片茫茫中不知来处，只忆起一句诗：“月出惊山鸟，时鸣春涧中。”山中朦胧的清晨，此刻也显得缠绵悱恻起来。
At the beginning of the winter vacation, the life was as plain as water, until my parents decided to take me back to my hometown of Sichuan, which had been away for five years. Driving home sounds very comfortable and free. It's really a pain for me. After more than ten hours of hard work, we finally approached the boundary of Sichuan. Surrounded by mountains on both sides of the highway, fog suddenly appeared on the way. The misty mist came uninvited, just like old friends who had been together for many years, familiar and strange after a long time. The shape of the distant and near peaks is charming. Occasionally, a few old houses covered with moss are forgotten by the fog on the roadside. The verdant green color is the mark of time, which is fascinating. Or hear a few clear birds, melodious, haunting, in a vast unknown place, just remember a poem: "the moon startles the birds, when singing spring stream." The hazy early morning in the mountains, at the moment, is also very sad.
到了家乡的镇上，人声鼎沸，熙来攘往，人们为了春节四处忙碌。汽车只能蜗行牛步，鸣笛也少有人理睬。街道上彩旗飘飘，很多人背着各式各样的背篓用以装物，他们行走在现代建筑间，在我看来多少有点格格不入。汽车驶出镇子，行过山路，掠过田野，一路上是大片的空旷，没有了城市间林立高楼的阻拦，所见之景都变得截然不同。汽车停在邻居的房前，我们下了车。翻上小坡，穿过一丛竹林，终于到了家。家中有不少亲人，大家都十分热情，奈何我在昆山长大，早已不通乡音，只能勉强应答。左邻右舍也有亲戚，我的那位曾祖母颤颤巍巍地走来，她已有八十多岁高龄却仍然耳清目明，浑身的褶皱聚成了一条条脉络。我们都将活成这样，活成自己最温柔的样子。不远处的山坡上，一株老树孑然屹立，枝条向下垂去，像一只无力的手掌，似在嘲弄我的多思。
To the town of my hometown, people are bustling and bustling, people are busy for the Spring Festival. Cars can only move slowly, and few people pay attention to the whistle. Many people carry all kinds of baskets to hold things. They walk in modern buildings, which seems to me a little out of place. The car drove out of the town, across the mountain road, across the field, all the way is a large expanse of open space, without the block of tall buildings between the cities, all the scenes were very different. The car stopped in front of the neighbor's house and we got off. Up the slope, through a clump of bamboo, and finally home. There are many family members in my family, all of them are very enthusiastic. However, I grew up in Kunshan. I have no local accent for a long time, so I can only reluctantly respond. My great grandmother came trembling. She was in her eighties, but she still had clear ears, clear eyes, and wrinkles. We will all live in this way, in our gentlest way. Not far away on the hillside, an old tree stands alone, its branches drooping, like a weak hand, like a taunt of my thoughtfulness.
大概是当地的习俗，春节的前一天，二舅公等人骑着摩托载我们去扫墓。摩托风驰电掣，穿过曲折蜿蜒的羊肠小道，驾轻就熟地驶上山腰间的道路，活像一条游弋在水中的剑鱼。在一座高山边，人们把车停在路旁，径直走向前方。我在一阵诧异间跟上，荒山本无路，因为人们不断攀爬走出了一条泥泞的小路。松软的泥地极难着力，再加上坑坑洼洼间的浊水，在斜伸的泥道上，我有几次都险些失足。在半山腰的一片平地上茅草丛生，几只黑牛悠然吃草，浑似不入世的闲人。一座坟冢立在中间，埋葬的是我的外曾祖母，墓旁荆棘丛生。我们只能开出一条空道，舅公上前烧香焚纸，依次磕头。我看着萋萋坟冢，对这位印象中素未谋面的外曾祖母磕了三个头。随后大家拿出长串的鞭炮点燃，一时间噼啪作响，余音在群岚中回荡，似阵阵雷涛，久久不散。我凝视延的山际，望见嬉闹的云朵，觉得世事倒真如白云苍狗般变化莫测了。
It's probably a local custom. On the day before the Spring Festival, the second uncle and others rode motorcycles to take us to the grave. The motorcycles are fast and fast, passing through the zigzag and winding paths, and driving up the road at the waist of the mountain, like a swordfish swimming in the water. At the edge of a high mountain, people park their cars beside the road and go straight ahead. I followed in a moment of surprise, the barren mountain has no way, because people keep climbing out of a muddy path. It's very difficult to exert force on the soft mud, plus the muddy water between the pits and depressions. On the inclined mud road, I almost missed several times. In the middle of the mountain, there are many grasses on the flat ground. Several black cows eat grass leisurely, just like the idle people who are not in the world. A grave stands in the middle, burying my great grandmother. There are many thorns beside the grave. We can only open an empty path. My uncle comes forward to burn incense and paper, kowtow in turn. Looking at the tomb of Qiqi, I kowtowed three heads to the great grandmother I never met. Then we took out a long string of firecrackers and lit them. For a while, they crackled. The aftersound reverberated in the haze, like thunder waves, which lasted for a long time. I gazed at the mountains and saw the frolicking clouds. I felt that the world was as unpredictable as the white clouds and the grey dogs.
在寒假的尾声里，颠簸的回家路上，我常常会想象隐居山间，平静淡然的生活。不过，那也只是想想。
At the end of winter vacation, on the bumpy way home, I often imagine living in seclusion in the mountains, calm and indifferent life. But that's just thinking.