TeacherGwen 我们一起神翻译|4.19

Friday afternoon in Paghman. An open field of grass speckled with mulberry trees in blossom. Hassan and I stand ankle-deep in untamed grass, I am tugging on the line, the spool spinning in Hassan’s calloused hands, our eyes turned up to the kite in the sky. Not a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don’t have to say anything--that’s how it is between people who are each other’s first memories, people who have fed from the same breast.

周五下午在Paghman，在一片点缀着已开花的桑树的草地上，Hassan和我站在齐踝深的野草中，我拉着风筝的线，线轴在Hassan满是老茧的手中旋转着，我们都抬眼望着天空中的风筝。我们之间相对无言，并不是我们没什么好说的，而是我们不必说什么——那就是彼此是对方的最初的记忆的人之间的默契，那就是两个被同样的乳房哺育长大的人之间的默契。