James Poy Wong 黃培正
"A person considered great is not due to his appearance being heroic and handsome, smart and talented, but how his spirit had touched many people over a long period of time."
"He Is Dead"1
他死了
他死了。
人是要死的。 你和我也有一天永远躺下来。 因为死是人类唯一公平的享受。对于贫富贵贱， 我们有羡慕和埋怨，但是对于死， 又有什么值得诅咒呢？
在广大的厅中， 暗淡的灯光下， 我揭起了棺盖去看那不动的尸骸。 无论化妆术怎么高明， 总不能使死人变得像个活人来，简直酷似一个泥人。 无怪乎还有这样多人相信人类是由泥造成的了。
我曾经观望过许多伟人的尸骸。 每次我都觉得人的渺小。 他或许曾在千万的广众的心中形成无限大的巨人，但是一旦卧倒在这长方形的匣中， 就会变成这样渺小。 这到底是什么道理? 我不相信只因断了呼吸就连身体也似乎缩小了起来。
人与人的认识和相亲只是肉体的关系。 所以一旦这个肉体躺下时， 人对他也就忘记了。 一个人之所以伟大， 并不是他的容貌英俊， 聪明才干， 而是因为他的灵魂能够长久和许多人接触， 所以真正的文明的进步是人与人之间的灵魂相亲相爱， 并不是物质和肉体的享受，因为肉体是不能永生的。
我一再踏着坟场上的荒草， 观看那高低不平的墓， 也低头洒几点无情的眼泪。 在这里我看到许多侨胞的凄凉归宿。 我看到这些人一生奋斗和挣扎的结果。 现在却要安静地躺下在这异国的黄土中， 给虫儿来蛀去自己的尸体，连半点反抗的能力也没有。
他在这人类的大悲剧中模糊地演完了他的角色， 现在要踏出这生命的大舞台了。 在这一刹那间， 我想看一节真实表演的情节，但是我依然觉得失望。 他的妻半疯狂地号叫，念着那不消化的 ”台词”。 只会痛惜着自己的青春， 给丈夫无理的诅咒。 在沉默中我觉得自己是棺中的 “泥人”。 我实在憎恨这种诅咒的言语到了极点。 假如那个死尸还能作最后一个动作和言语时， 他一定起来掴她一巴，说： “你实在太自私了”。 我也得承认对演悲剧的人批评是残忍的。 但是人类在这一刹那间也要模糊地扮演，没有半点真实，难道真实也就是虚伪的么?
他一方面受了牧师的祈祷， 一方面又受了菩萨的保佑，就是不能进天堂， 也不至于下地狱的吧。 （当然先要假设灵魂是有归宿的。）
死对人类是多少含有点悲哀， 但是悲哀是不能长久的。 其余的时间是被空虚占有着了。 死对于人类也有点恐怖， 但这也只是片刻间的事， 因为忧郁比死的影子还要大。 我曾经看过千百人的死。 流血的， 没流血的， 整个的， 片段的， 糜烂的， 烧焦的， 绝望的， 悲愤的，到底死对于未死的人不是一件愉快的事。
人类到底不是聪明的动物， 我们不能把舞台戏和人生戏分别出来。 所以人生广众 （也许是演员） 对于死者是抱着热闹的态度。 谁说人皆有恻隐之心呢？
He Is Dead
He is dead.
Humans are destined to die. You and I will one day lie down forever because death is the only fair privilege for all humankind. In regard to being poor, rich, noble or lowly, we may have envy and resentment, but towards death, what is there that is worth imprecating?
In the large parlor and under the dim light, I lift the cover of the coffin and look at the motionless corpse. Regardless of how clever the makeup technique is, it just can’t make a dead person look alive. The person simply looks like a clay figure. No wonder there are still many who believe human beings are made of clay. From a distance I had viewed the corpses of many prominent people. Each time I felt the infinitesimal of human beings. Formulated in the minds of tens of thousands of people, he may have been an infinitely huge giant, but once he lies in this rectangle box, he becomes so insignificant. What is the reason for this change? I don’t believe it is simply due to the end of breathing that would seemingly shrink even the body.
Human acquaintance and development of intimacy with each other is a relation of the bodies. Therefore, once a body lies down, he will be forgotten by people. A person considered great is not due to his appearance being heroic and handsome, smart and talented, but how his spirit had touched many people over a long period of time. For this reason, the real progress of civilization rests on the spiritual intimacy and love among people, and not the enjoyment of the material and body because the body is not immortal.
Once again I step on the wild grass in the cemetery looking at those graves with uneven height, and lower my head to shed a few drops of insensate tears. Here, I see many countrymen in their desolate, final resting homes. I see the results of how these people, striving and struggling all their lives, and now they have to lie down on the yellow earth of a foreign country, letting worms nibble away their corpses without any strength to resist.
He had vaguely played through his role in the great tragedy of humankind, and now he was about to step off this great stage of life. At this moment, I want to see a real live performance of the final scene, but I am disappointed nevertheless. His wife is wailing in partial madness, reciting the unfamiliar stage lines. She went on to speak about her deep regret for her youth and then unreasonably cursed her husband. In silence, I feel I am the ‘clay figure’ lying in the coffin. I truly despise this kind of cursing language. If this corpse were able to make one last move or say some words, he would definitely slap her in the face and say “You are too selfish.” I admit it is cruel to criticize the one performing a tragic role, but in this instant of facing death, humans should not be performing in a muddled manner without any genuineness in it. Or is it that genuineness is also a pretense?
He is given blessing by the Minister on the one hand and is given protection by the Buddha on the other hand. In this way, even if he won’t be able to enter heaven, he would unlikely go to hell. (Of course, this is based on the presupposition that souls have a place to return.)
Death to human beings is more or less sorrowful, but sorrow doesn’t last long. What remains in time is occupied by a sense of emptiness. Death to human beings is also somewhat frightening, but this too is just for the moment because the shadow of melancholy is greater than death. I had seen hundreds of deaths: some spilt blood, some didn’t; some were dead in wholeness , some were fractured. There were rotten ones , burnt ones, hopeless ones, indignant ones. After all, death to the undead is not a pleasant thing.
All in all, human beings are not smart creatures. We can’t distinguish the stage performance from the acts in life. Therefore, the general public in life (who are perhaps actors) holds the attitude of watching the dead one as entertainment. Who said all human beings have compassion?