Listen to this article作品原文
夏丐尊 《钢铁假山》
案头有一座钢铁的假山，得之不费一钱，可是在我室内的器物里面，要算是最有重要意味的东西。
它的成为假山，原由于我的利用，本身只是一块粗糙的钢铁片，非但不是什么“吉金乐石”，说出来一定会叫人发指，是一二八之役日人所掷的炸弹的裂块。
已是三年前的事了。日军才退出，我到江湾立达学园去视察被害的实况，在满目凄怆的环境中徘徊了几小时，归途拾得这片钢铁回来。这种钢铁片，据说就是炸弹的裂块，有大有小，那时在立达学园附近触目皆是。我所拾的只是小小的一块，阔约六寸，高约三寸，厚约二寸，重约一斤。一面还大体保存着圆筒式的弧形，从弧线的圆度推测，原来的直径应有一尺光景，不知是多少磅重的炸弹了。另一面是破裂面，削凹凸，有些部分像峭壁，有些部分像危岩，锋棱锐利得同刀口一样。
江湾一带曾因战事炸毁过许多房子，炸杀过许多人。仅就立达学园一处说，校舍被毁的过半数。那次我去时，瓦砾场上还见到未被收殓的死尸。这小小的一块炸弹裂片，当然参与过残暴的工作，和刽子手所用的刀一样，有着血腥气的。论到证据的性质，这确是“铁证”了。
我把这铁证放在案头上作种种的联想，因为锋棱又锐利摆不平稳，每一转动，桌上就起磨损的痕迹。最初就想配了架子当作假山来摆。继而觉得把惨痛的历史的证物变装为骨董性的东西，是不应该的。古代传下来的骨董品中，有许多原是历史的遗迹，可是一经穿上了骨董的衣服就减少了历史的刺激性，只当作骨董品被人玩耍了。
这块粗糙的钢铁不久就被我从案头收起，藏在别处，忆起时才取出来看。新近搬家整理物件时被家人弃置在杂屑篓里，找寻了许久才发现。为永久保藏起见，颇费过些思量。摆在案头吧，不平稳，而且要擦伤桌面。藏在衣箱里吧，防铁锈沾惹坏衣服，并且拿取也不便。想来想去，还是去配了架子当作假山来摆在案头好。于是就托人到城隍庙一带红木铺去配架子。
现在，这块钢铁片已安放在小小的红木架上，当作假山摆在我的案头了。时间经过三年之久，全体盖满了黄褐色的铁锈，凹入处锈得更浓。碎裂的整块的，像沈石田的峭壁，细杂的一部分像黄子久的皴法，峰冈起伏的轮廓有些像倪云林。客人初见到这座假山，都称赞它有画意，问我从什么地方获得。家里的人对它也重视起来，不会再投入杂屑篓里去了。
这块钢铁片现在总算已得到了一个处置和保存的方法了，可是同时却不幸地着上了一件骨董的衣掌。为减少骨董性显出历史性起见，我想写些文字上去，使它在人的眼中不仅是富有画意的假山。
写些什么文字呢？诗歌或铭吗？我不愿在这严重的史迹上弄轻薄的文字游戏，宁愿老老实实地写几句记实的话。用什么来写呢？墨色在铁上是显不出的，照理该用血来写，必不得已，就用血色的朱漆吧。今天已是二十四年的一月十日了，再过十八日，就是今年的“一二八”。我打算在“一二八”那天来写。
作品译文
The Ornamental Iron Mountain
On my desk I have a miniature ornamental mountain made of iron. I got it without spending a penny, but it means more to me than any other objects I have in my room.
It is an ornamental mountain because that is the way it serves my use. In itself it is just a crude lump of iron. It is none of your lucky talismans, in fact to say what it is will only evoke outrage, for it is a fragment of a bomb dropped by the Japanese when they attacked the Chinese City of Shanghai in 1932.
The thing happened three years ago now. Shortly after the Japanese troops withdrew, I went to Lida School in Jiangwan to inspect the damage, and lingered over that mournful scene for some hours. On the way back I picked this lump of iron. The ground roundabout Lida School was littered with lumps of iron, some big, some small. I was old they were bomb fragments. The one I picked up was a small one, measuring roughly six inches across, three inches high and two inches thick. Its weight was about a catty. One side retained the curve of the cylinder, and judging by the roundness of the curve, the diameter of the original cylinder must have been about a foot. I don’t know how heavy a bomb that would have made it. The other side was the fragmented side, all jagged and uneven, some part of it like a cliff face, others like proud rocks, the edges as sharp as a knife.
Many houses in the Jiangwan distric were destroyed by bombs, and many people killed the same way. To mention only the Lida School grounds, more than half the school buildings were destroyed. Corpses could still be seen among the rubble when I was there. That small bomb fragment must have taken part in the murderous work: like the executioner’s sword it carried the reek of blood. In terms of the reliability of evidence, this was indeed ‘ironclad’.
All kinds of associations rose in my mind when I placed that ironclad evidence on my desk. Because of its angularity it would not rest stably, and every time I moved it round, its sharp edges left scratches. At first I thought of having a stand made for it, so that it could be displayed like an ornamental mountain, but then I felt that this evidence of painful history should not e mounted like an antique. It is true that many of the antiques that have come down to us bear witness to history, but once clothed in the garments of antiques they lose their historical sting, and are just played with as curios.
I fairly soon removed this crude lump of iron from my desk and put it away, only occasionally taking it out thereafter when I remembered it s existence. Recently we moved house, and when sorting things out one of my family threw it in the rubbish basket. It took me a lot of searching to discover it. I devoted a lot of thought to its long-term preservation. Suppose I were to put it out on my desk, it would not sit properly, and would scratch the surface. Suppose I were to put it away in a clothes chest, I would have to watch out for it rusting and spoiling the clothes, and it would not be easy to dig out. Eventually I concluded it would be better to have a frame made and set it on my desk as an ornament. So I got someone to go to the City Temple district and have one of the redwood shops make a frame for me.
Now this lump of iron rests on a little redwood base and sits on my desk as an ornament mountain. After three years it is covered with a coat of brownish rust, particularly thick in the depressions. The surfaces that are broken off cleanly are like the cliffs in Shen Shitian’s Ming dynasty landscape paintings, the irregular surfaces are like the veining effect in Huang Zijiu’s Yuan dynasty landscapes, while the peaks and valleys remind me of Ni Yunlin’s contours. When visitors see this ornamental mountain for the first time, they all praise it for its resemblance to a painting, and ask me where I got it. My family also have come to respect it, and will not throw it in the rubbish basket again.
So after all that, this lump of iron has now found a place and a means of preservation, but unfortunately has at the same time taken on the garb of an antique. To minimize the antique aspect and emphasize the historical aspect, I intend to write some inscription on it, to make it something more than an ornamental mountain with a strong resemblance to a painting in people’s eyes.
What kind of inscription should I write? A poem or an admonition in classical style? I do not wish to go in for frivolous wordplay on this grave relic of history: I would prefer to record a few facts in a plain and simple way. What should I use to write the words? Black ink would not show up on the iron. By rights blood should be used, but a practical alternative would be blood-colored red lacquer. Today is the 10th of January; in another eighteen days it will be the anniversary of the Japanese attack. I will write the words on that day.
