黎明前的北京

前後加起來，我在北京已經住了四十多年，算是一個老北京了。②北京的名勝古蹟，北京的妙處，③我應該説是瞭解的；其他老北京當然也瞭解，但是有一點，我相信絕大多數的老北京並不瞭解，④這就是黎明時分以前的北京。

多少年來，我養成了一個習慣：每天早晨四點在黎明以前起牀工作。我不出去跑步或散步，而是一下牀就幹活兒，因此我對黎明前的北京的瞭解是在屋子裏感覺到的。我從前在什麼報上讀過一篇文章，⑤講黎明時分天安門廣場上的清潔工人。那情景必然是非常動人的，可惜我從未能見到，只是心嚮往之而已。

四十年前，我住在城裏在明朝曾經是特務機關的東廠裏面。幾座深深的大院子，在最裏面三個院子裏只住着我一個人，朋友們都説這地方陰森可怕，晚上很少有人敢來找我，我則恰然自得。⑥每當夏夜，我起牀以後，立刻就聞到院於裏那些高大的馬纓花樹散發出來的陣陣幽香，這些香氣破窗而入，我於此時神清氣爽，樂不可支，連手中那一支笨拙的筆也彷彿生了花。

幾年以後，我搬到西郊來往，照例四點起牀，坐在窗前工作。白天透過窗子能夠看到北京展覽館那金光閃閃的高塔的尖頂，此時當然看不到了。⑦但是，我知道，即使我看不見它，它仍然在那裏挺然聳人天空，彷彿想帶給人以希望，以上進的勁頭。我仍然是樂不可支，心也彷彿飛上了高空。

過了十年，我又搬了家。這新居既沒有馬纓花，也看不到金色的塔頂，但是門前卻有一片清碧的荷塘。剛搬來的幾年，池塘裏還有荷花。夏天早晨四點已經算是黎明時分。在薄暗中透過窗子可以看到接大蓮葉，而荷花的香氣也幽然襲來，⑧我顧而樂之，大有超出馬纓花和金色塔頂之上的意味了。

難道我欣賞黎明前的北京僅僅由於上述的原因嗎？不是的。三十幾年以來，我成了一個“開會迷”。⑨説老實話，積三十年之經驗，我真有點怕開會了，在白天，一整天説不定什麼時候就會接到開會的通知，説一句過火的話，我簡直是提心吊膽，心裏不得安寧。即使不開會，這種惴惴不安的心情總擺脱不掉。只有在黎明以前，根據我的經驗，沒有哪裏會來找你開會的。⑩因此，我起牀什桌子旁邊一坐，彷彿有什麼近似條件反射的東西立刻就起了作用，我心裏安安靜靜，一下子進入角色，拿起筆來，“文思”⑾（如果也算是文思的話）如，泉水噴湧，記憶力也像剛磨過的刀於，鋭不可當。此時，我真是樂不可支，如果給我機會的話，我簡直想手舞足蹈了。

因此，我愛北京，特別愛黎明前的北京。

Predawn Beijing

Ji Xianlin
Translated by Zhang Peiji

I've been in Beijing altogether for over 40 years. So I can well call myself a long-timer of Beijing. Like all other long-timers of the city, I'm supposed to be very familiar with its scenic spots and historical sites, nay, its superb attractions. But I believe there is one thing lying unknown to most of the long-time residents - the predawn hours of Beijing.

For many years, I have been in the habit of get- ting up before daybreak to start work at four. Instead of going out for a jog or walk, I' 11 set about my work as soon as I'm out of bed. As a result, it is from inside my study that I've got the feel of predawn Beijing. Years ago, I hit upon a newspaper article about street cleaners in Tian'anmen Square at daybreak. It must have been a very moving scene, but what a pity I haven' t seen it with my own eyes. I can only picture it in my mind longingly.

Forty years ago, I lived downtown in Dongchang, a compound which had housed the secret service of the Ming Dynasty. There were inside it several deep spacious courtyards one leading into another. I was the sole dweller of the three innermost courtyards. My friends, calling this place too ghastly, seldom dared to come to see me in the evening whereas I myself found it quite agreeable. In summer, the moment I got out of bed before daybreak, I would smell the delicate fragrance of the giant silk trees coming from outside my window. Thereupon, I would feel refreshed and joyful, and the clumsy pen in my hand would seem to have become as agile as it could.

Several years later when I moved to the western suburbs, I kept my habit of rising at four to begin work at the window. The glittering spire atop the tower of the Beijing Exhibition Center, which I could see in the daytime through my window, would no longer be visible now in the early morning haze. Nevertheless I knew that, though invisible, it remained there intact, towering to the skies to inspire people with hope and the urge for moving ahead. At this, I would be beside myself with joy and feel as if my heart were also flying high up into the skies.

Ten years after, I moved again. In the new home of mine, I had no silk trees, nor could I get sight of the glittering spire from afar. There was, however, a lotus pond of limpid blue in front of my door. In the first few years after I moved there, lotus flowers continued to blossom on the surface of the pond. In the summer- time, when day broke early at four, a vast stretch of lotus leaves looking skywards outside my window came dimly into sight while the quiet fragrance of the lotus flowers assailed my nose. All that delighted me even more than the silk trees and the glittering spire.

Is it exclusively due to the above-mentioned that I've developed a liking for predawn Beijing? No. For 30 years, I've been bogged down in the mire of meetings. To tell you the truth, with the experience accumulated over the 30 years, I'm now scared of meetings. In the daytime, there is no telling when I may be served a notice for attending a meeting. To exaggerate it a bit, that keeps me in constant suspense and makes me fidgety. Even when no meeting is to take place, I feel restless all the same. However, my experience tells that it is only during the predawn hours that I can be truly havened from any involvement in meetings. As soon as I sit down at my desk before dawn, something similar to the conditioned reflex begins to function within me. Instantly I' 11 pick up my pen to play my proper part with perfect peace of mind. Then inspiration comes gushing to my mind and my memory be- comes as quick as a newly-sharpened knife. I’ll feel overjoyed, almost to the point of waving my arms and stamping my feet.

In short, I love Beijing, especially predawn Beijing.

前後加起來，我在北京已經住了四十多年，算是一個老北京了。②北京的名勝古蹟，北京的妙處，③我應該説是瞭解的；其他老北京當然也瞭解，但是有一點，我相信絕大多數的老北京並不瞭解，④這就是黎明時分以前的北京。

多少年來，我養成了一個習慣：每天早晨四點在黎明以前起牀工作。我不出去跑步或散步，而是一下牀就幹活兒，因此我對黎明前的北京的瞭解是在屋子裏感覺到的。我從前在什麼報上讀過一篇文章，⑤講黎明時分天安門廣場上的清潔工人。那情景必然是非常動人的，可惜我從未能見到，只是心嚮往之而已。

四十年前，我住在城裏在明朝曾經是特務機關的東廠裏面。幾座深深的大院子，在最裏面三個院子裏只住着我一個人，朋友們都説這地方陰森可怕，晚上很少有人敢來找我，我則恰然自得。⑥每當夏夜，我起牀以後，立刻就聞到院於裏那些高大的馬纓花樹散發出來的陣陣幽香，這些香氣破窗而入，我於此時神清氣爽，樂不可支，連手中那一支笨拙的筆也彷彿生了花。

幾年以後，我搬到西郊來往，照例四點起牀，坐在窗前工作。白天透過窗子能夠看到北京展覽館那金光閃閃的高塔的尖頂，此時當然看不到了。⑦但是，我知道，即使我看不見它，它仍然在那裏挺然聳人天空，彷彿想帶給人以希望，以上進的勁頭。我仍然是樂不可支，心也彷彿飛上了高空。

過了十年，我又搬了家。這新居既沒有馬纓花，也看不到金色的塔頂，但是門前卻有一片清碧的荷塘。剛搬來的幾年，池塘裏還有荷花。夏天早晨四點已經算是黎明時分。在薄暗中透過窗子可以看到接大蓮葉，而荷花的香氣也幽然襲來，⑧我顧而樂之，大有超出馬纓花和金色塔頂之上的意味了。

難道我欣賞黎明前的北京僅僅由於上述的原因嗎？不是的。三十幾年以來，我成了一個“開會迷”。⑨説老實話，積三十年之經驗，我真有點怕開會了，在白天，一整天説不定什麼時候就會接到開會的通知，説一句過火的話，我簡直是提心吊膽，心裏不得安寧。即使不開會，這種惴惴不安的心情總擺脱不掉。只有在黎明以前，根據我的經驗，沒有哪裏會來找你開會的。⑩因此，我起牀什桌子旁邊一坐，彷彿有什麼近似條件反射的東西立刻就起了作用，我心裏安安靜靜，一下子進入角色，拿起筆來，“文思”⑾（如果也算是文思的話）如，泉水噴湧，記憶力也像剛磨過的刀於，鋭不可當。此時，我真是樂不可支，如果給我機會的話，我簡直想手舞足蹈了。

因此，我愛北京，特別愛黎明前的北京。

Predawn Beijing

Ji Xianlin
Translated by Zhang Peiji

I've been in Beijing altogether for over 40 years. So I can well call myself a long-timer of Beijing. Like all other long-timers of the city, I'm supposed to be very familiar with its scenic spots and historical sites, nay, its superb attractions. But I believe there is one thing lying unknown to most of the long-time residents - the predawn hours of Beijing.

For many years, I have been in the habit of get- ting up before daybreak to start work at four. Instead of going out for a jog or walk, I' 11 set about my work as soon as I'm out of bed. As a result, it is from inside my study that I've got the feel of predawn Beijing. Years ago, I hit upon a newspaper article about street cleaners in Tian'anmen Square at daybreak. It must have been a very moving scene, but what a pity I haven' t seen it with my own eyes. I can only picture it in my mind longingly.

Forty years ago, I lived downtown in Dongchang, a compound which had housed the secret service of the Ming Dynasty. There were inside it several deep spacious courtyards one leading into another. I was the sole dweller of the three innermost courtyards. My friends, calling this place too ghastly, seldom dared to come to see me in the evening whereas I myself found it quite agreeable. In summer, the moment I got out of bed before daybreak, I would smell the delicate fragrance of the giant silk trees coming from outside my window. Thereupon, I would feel refreshed and joyful, and the clumsy pen in my hand would seem to have become as agile as it could.