Mother’s Hands
妈妈的手
Night after night, she came to tuck me in, even long after my childhood years.
多少个夜晚，她将我拥入怀中，即使那时我已不再是孩子
Following her longstanding custom, she’d lean down and push my long hair out of the way, then kiss my forehead.
她一直有一个习惯，那就是倚靠着，拨开我的头发，然后亲吻我的前额
I don’t remember when it first started annoying me — her hands pushing my hair that way.
我不记得她那样弄我的头发是什么时候第一次惹怒我的了
But it did annoy me, for they felt work-worn and rough against my young skin.
但是确实是惹怒我了，因为她带满茧皮的粗糙的手扫得我细嫩皮肤很不舒服
Finally, one night, I shouted out at her, “Don’t do that anymore — your hands are too rough!”
最后，一天晚上，我对她吼道：“不要再那样了，你的手太粗糙了”
She didn’t say anything in reply.
她只是默默无语
But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar expression of her love.
但是从那以后，妈妈再也没有用那种我熟悉的方式来表达她的爱了
Time after time, with the passing years, my thoughts returned to that night.
日复一日，随着时光的流逝，我的思维总会回到了那天晚上
By then I missed my mother’s hands, missed her goodnight kiss on my forehead.
就是那一天，妈妈再也没有用手抚摸我，再也没有在我的前额留下晚安之吻了
Sometimes the incident seemed very close, sometimes far away.
有时候这种感觉如此之近，有时候却遥不可及
But always it lurked, in the back of my mind.
但是它始终埋藏在我心里
Well, the years have passed, and I’m not a little girl anymore.
时光飞逝，我再也不是个小女孩了
Mom is in her mid-seventies, and those hands I once thought to be so rough are still doing things for me and my family.
妈妈现在也已经七十中旬了，那双我曾经觉得粗糙的是仍然在为我和我的家庭忙碌着
She’s been our doctor, reaching into a medicine cabinet for the remedy to calm a young girl’s stomach or soothe the boy’s scraped knee.
她已经成为我们家的家庭医生了，她总是会走到医药柜帮小女孩拿胃药或者帮小男孩拿处理膝盖伤口的药
She cooks the best fried chicken in the world... gets stains out of blue jeans like I never could...
她能做出世界上最美味的炸鸡，能帮我清理掉我从来不能够清理的牛仔裤上的污渍
Now, my own children are grown and gone.
现在，我自己的孩子长大了，也离开我的身边了
Mom no longer has Dad, and on special occasions, I find myself drawn next door to spend the night with her.
妈妈没有了爸爸的陪伴，所以在一些特殊的情况下，我也会花一整晚陪在她身边
So it was late on Thanksgiving Eve, as I slept in the bedroom of my youth,
所以因为感恩节的前夕已经太晚了，我就在我幼时的床上睡着了
a familiar hand hesitantly run across my face to brush the hair from my forehead.
那双熟悉的手抚过我的脸颊，拨开了我前额的头发
Then a kiss, ever so gently, touched my brow.
之后吻了下去，轻轻地摸了摸我的眉
In my memory, for the thousandth time, I recalled the night my young voice complained,
在我的记忆之中，有几千次，我一直会会想起我抱怨的那天晚上
”Don’t do that anymore — your hands are too rough!”
不要再摸我了——你的手太粗糙了
Catching Mom’s hand in hand, I blurted out how sorry I was for that night.
紧握着妈妈的手，我毫不犹豫地告诉她我对那天晚上的事情感到多么地抱歉
I thought she’d remember, as I did. But Mom didn’t know what I was talking about.
我以为她和我一样都记着那天的事，但是妈妈却不明白我在说什么
She had forgotten — and forgiven — long ago.
她已经忘了——原谅我了——在很久以前
That night, I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my gentle mother and her caring hands.
那天晚上，我重新感受了我善良的妈妈的爱还有她关爱的抚摸
And the guilt that I had carried around for so long was nowhere to be found.
而我那困扰了我多年的罪恶感也不复存在