from：www.baeyongjoon.com/freeboard 日译英： mclara/ www.baeyongjoon.com/freeboard 英译中：fengling72/（俊心咏恒） www.loveyongjoon.com 转贴时请保留，谢谢。希望大家可以耐着心看下去~~真的很好！冬季恋歌续曲 只是想和大家一起分享。 你们有没有想象过冬季恋歌之后，民亨和惟珍之间会有什么事情发生呢？这有一个美丽虚幻的故事，关于这两个人的。这是一篇优美的短文，作者：yoshino 插图：H.Y.希望你们能了解并喜欢。 -------------------------- “民尚，你在看什么呢？” “我么？在看一些照片，勇尚哥。” 民尚回答着，并没有从相册上抬起头。 “我不知道在这里还有这样一个相册。” “是没有，这是我们从汉城带过来的。”“啊呀，你不知道吗哥哥，从这个春天开始，妈妈已经在为这些照片一张一张的做注释了。” “为了爸爸吗？” “对呀。” 相册里有很多照片。大部分都是我们兄弟俩和父亲的照片。母亲总是那个拍照片的人。 “还记得吗，哥哥，我曾问过妈妈，为什么贴照片时要在相册里写这么多注释，尽管她并不常常看着这些。” “啊，我想起来了，她回答说期望有一天能讲给爸爸听。” 只要一有机会母亲随时都会进行拍照。但是在她把照片贴在相册里之后我们都不会再去看它们。这在我们家是很平常的事情，就象我们从不看电视一样，我们不得不照顾到父亲的感觉。相信母亲有一天会完成这本相册，并贴上每一张照片。 “这个不是你吗，勇尚哥？” 那是我在海滩上玩的照片。 “哇！这照片真是有专业水准啊！好漂亮！” “是呀！第一次看见这些照片，真的是我呢！” ----勇尚三岁，五月母亲节---- 都是我在海边玩的照片，一共20张。而且其中10张好像是连续拍摄的。 “这里附有一封信。” “民尚，那是妈妈的，你不能动。” “看一下吧，哥哥，它附在这里不就是让人看的吗。” “....” **************(信) 在您充满疑惑的凝视着我时，我想说“让我把那一天在海边给您儿子拍摄的照片寄给您吧。”那一天我在海滩上拍摄五月里蓝色的天空和蔚蓝的大海。快到中午时，我的镜头里出现了你们全家围坐在一张铺开的毯子上的画面。孤单一人的我真是很羡慕您，因为您的家人看起来很快乐。过了一会，我发现孩子的父亲是看不见任何东西的。注意到这些，我把镜头掉转开不再去打搅你们。 在我因拍摄感到疲倦，放眼远方的时候，我发现有一个小男孩在忙着捡贝壳。他捡了一些，用他的小脚快速跑向他的父母，接着又跑回去捡... ...微风带着您愉快的笑声吹进我的耳朵。我听见这笑声说：“我们很快乐。” 我不知道为什么我会这么想；一定是您的家人当时欢快的情景促使我这样想的。于是我开始用镜头捕捉您儿子捡贝壳的画面。我不清楚那一刻我为什么会做这些。 我希望有一天这孩子的父亲能看见这些照片的时候，他能了解这孩子过去是多么的可爱。 在那一刻，您儿子从海滩的沙砾中拉出一件闪闪发光的东西，他把它举到眼前，好奇的看那是什么，我也同样感到好奇。透过我的照相机镜头，那看起来象是一条项链， 链坠看起来象星星一样。 您儿子笑着向您跑去。“妈妈，妈妈，看这个漂亮吗？送给您。” 我顺着风声听到他的声音，我微笑着，聆听着。但是我没有听到妈妈的回答。却看见她垂下了眼帘。 “您怎么了，妈妈？您在哭吗？” “你怎么了，惟珍？” 孩子的母亲把项链放在她丈夫的手里。 “惟珍，这是.... 这是....” 从孩子的父亲那里我只听到了这些。 我透过长焦镜头不安的注视着你们。泪水从你们的脸颊上滑落下来。我被震惊了，将视线移向大海。大海的波浪一浪接着一浪，就象什么事情也没有发生一样。 “生命源于大海......生命的延续却是因为爱”我反复思量着这句话。 那条项链对于你们来说意味着什么我无从得知。我仅仅知道那是您儿子在“母亲节”送您的礼物。在我的祖国日本，这一天被称为“母亲节”，在这一天孩子们为感谢母亲会送给她们鲜花和礼物。那天晚上，我怀着真诚的感恩之心给我妈妈打了电话。 

请谅解我这封信有些长了。 我还想请求您允许我把那张您儿子将项链举到眼前的照片送去参加摄影比赛。标题就叫：“母亲节的第一个礼物” 希望那些眼泪是幸福的眼泪。 H.Y *********************** “在那里好热啊，我都出汗了。民尚、勇尚，有什么事吗？” “啊？没什么。您在干什么呢？不是很热吗？” “我在摘玫瑰，好让我能带它们一起去汉城啊。那里都是你爸爸种的漂亮玫瑰，随后他会送过来的。” 夕阳下，微风吹过平台，气温逐渐降了下来，爸爸和妈妈互相依偎着翻看着相册。 我开始弹钢琴----德佛札克的谐趣曲。我仿佛又回到了我三岁的时候。 在妈妈的脖颈上挂着一条不再流行的项链。那里，是两个人的爱情在闪烁。 A piece of WLS future story... Written by yoshino Illustrated by H.Y Translated by mclara Just wanna share with you sis and bros. Have you ever wondered what happened to Myn-Hyong and Yoo-Jin after WLS? Here is a piece of wonderful imagination from two people. It's a beautiful short story written by yoshino and illustrated by H.Y. Hoping you understand and like it. -------------------------- “What are you looking at, Min Sung?” “Me? I’m looking at photos, Yoon Sung oppa.” Min Sung answered, without looking away from the album. “I didn’t know we had the album here.” “No. We brought it all the way from Seoul.” “Oops, you didn’t know, oppa. Starting this spring, Mom has been explaining these pictures one by one.” “To Dad?” “Yes.” The album had lots of pictures. Most of them were we brothers and our father. Mom was always the one who took photos. “Do you remember, oppa, that I asked mom putting photos on the album, why she writes so much in there, though she doesn’t look at them so often?” “Yeah, I remember that. She answered we'll be able to explain them to dad someday.” Mom would often take pictures whenever she got a chance. But, we did not look at them after she had putting them in the album. We didn’t mean to spare dad’s feelings, but it was ordinary in my family just as we never watched TV. Mom was just completing the album, putting up each photo, believing she has ‘someday’ˇ “Isn’t this you, Yoon Sung oppa?” There it was me playing at the beach. “Wow, this photo is really professional. Cool!” “Yeahˇfirst time to see thisˇit’s me, isn’t it?” -Yoon Sung three years old In May, On Mother’s Day – The photos were twenty in all. All of them were me playing at the water’s edge. And, ten of them seemed to be taken in a row. “Here, a letter is attached.” “Min Song, it’s mom’s. You can’t do it.” “See, oppa, it’s attached for someone to read.” “....” **************(Letter) ‘Let me send you photos of your son that I took at the beach the other day,’ That was what I said, and you looked puzzled gazing at me. I was at the beach to take pictures of the blue sky and the blue ocean of May. When it was close to noon, I recognized that your family spread a sheet and sat on it. I envied you all, being a single myself, for your family looked perfectly happy. After a while, I recognized that children’s father cannot see anything. Sensing that, I looked away without knowing it. 

When I looked afar after being tired of working with my camera, I found a little boy busy collecting seashells. He grabbed some, and in his little feet ran up to his parents, and then went back gathering again... The breeze carried your merry laughter to my ears. I heard the laughter sounded to say, “We are so happy.” I don’t know why I thought so;;; That scene of your family might have made me think this way. Soon I found myself taking pictures of your boy finding shells. I didn’t know at that time why I did so. Now I wish, though, the boy’s father would know how cute his boy used to be, when he would be able to see the photo. At that moment, your son drew something glistening from the beachsand. He held it up in front of his face, wondering what it was. So was I. Through my camera lens, it looked like a necklace. The head of it looked like stars. Your son smiled and ran up to you. “...Mommy, Mommy, isn’t this pretty? Give it to you.” I heard his voice through the breeze. I smiled too, hearing it. But I heard no reply from his mother. She looked down. “...What’s wrong, Mommy? Are you crying?” “...What’s wrong, Yoojinah?...” The mother put the necklace on her husband’s hand. “...Yoojinah, this is....this is....” That was all what I heard from the father. I felt uneasy and gazed hard through the telephoto lens. Tears were rolling down on both of your cheeks. Startled, I turned my eye away to the ocean. The ocean had waves coming after and after as if nothing had happened. “The ocean is the origin of life...Keeping the life is love.” I repeated this phrase. I don’t have any idea what that necklace meant to you. What I only knew was that was your son’s present on ‘Mother’s Day.’ In my country Japan, the day is called ‘Mother’s Day.’ It is the day that children thank their mother and send flowers or presents to her. That night, I made a call to my mother, with my heartfelt gratitude. Forgive me my letter is getting long. Let me ask you for your permission to use one of the photos of your son that he puts up the necklace over his face, to a photo contest. The title would be, ‘The first present on Mother’s Day’ Wishing that the tears were happy ones. H.Y *********************** “It’s so hot out there. I’m sweating. What happened, Min Sung and Yoon Sung?” “Oh? Nothing. What were you doing? It's so hot, isn't it?” “I was picking roses so that I could take them to Seoul with me. The man there grew the pretty roses. He’s going to send them to me later.” The heat cools down a little and dad and mom cuddled up turning pages of the album, when the late afternoon breeze was blowing through the terrace. I began playing the piano- humoresque by Dvorak. I felt that I turned back to be three. On my mother’s neck, there rested a necklace which is never crazed. There, the love of the two was shining.