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首頁 台灣觀點
黃絲帶 (Yellow Ribbon)
Ajin 2009/07/08
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最近由紐約的台灣同鄉們發起,已經逐漸擴散到海內外的台灣人,都為著阿扁綁著黃絲帶。

過去駐伊朗的美國大使館官員被綁架,最後被釋放後,全美也綁著黃絲帶歡迎著他們回家。越戰生還回美國的大兵,回到家門口,也一定會看到黃絲帶。最近從伊拉克返回的美軍,也受到黃絲帶的歡迎。

到底黃絲帶是代表啥?其真正的典故是啥?

19711014日《紐約郵報》(New York Post) 刊登了由盛名的專欄作家Peter Hamill 寫的一篇故事,故事的題目叫《回家》(Going Home)

那是他從一個親身經歷的小姐口述聽的。這位小姐與一群年輕人共三男三女,搭上從紐約市開往Florida Fort Lauderdale的長途巴士。故事就是在車上發生的情景。

這個故事刊出不久,很快就出現了這首不朽的音樂作品。這個動人的故事被作成了歌曲由Tony Orlando 演唱的金唱片 ”Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Ole Oak Tree”(老橡樹上的黃絲帶)。

歌詞作得很棒,把整個故事的情景非常深動地描寫出來。光聽歌詞就可以知道整個故事了。伴著歌聲,這個故事也傳遍了全世界。黃絲帶也成了美國“歡迎被囚禁的人重獲自由”的標誌。

置於底下的英文原文,是以淺白易懂的文筆,寫出很動人溫馨的故事。Youtube影片播放的歌,放在最後面。蠻好聽的!

 

回家 ★ by Peter Hamill           / Ajin 編譯

我幾年前第一次聽見了這個故事,那是在紐約市的格林威治村遇見的一位女孩告訴我的。她是親身經歷故事的其中一位。 從那以後,凡讓我能將這故事引伸到任一個人身上時,他們都會告訴我說,他們曾經從某地方知道這故事,不然就是說,他從一位朋友得知,確實曾經發生在某人身上的真實故事。

事實上,這故事很可能是被當作一個很神秘的傳說,且每隔幾年就在全國形成一種社會意識地流傳,而因此一直不斷換新地告訴我們。雖然演員表更換,但故事所散發的溫馨訊息卻永遠長存。但我更喜歡認為它是真實在某處,某時發生了。

= = = = = =

三的男孩和三個女孩一起搭上前往佛羅?達州Fort Lauderdale的長途巴士。他們將三明治和酒放在紙袋內,想著夢幻的金黃海灘和海潮浪濤,逐漸地將灰色寒冷的紐約拋在身後。

當巴士通過新澤西州時,他們開始注意到文哥(Vingo)。 他坐在他們前面,一直未曾移動身體,穿著一套簡單但不合身的衣服,歷盡凔殤的面孔把他的實際年齡掩蓋了。他閉著嘴唇,把自己緊密地包藏在凍結的沈默當中。

抵達華盛頓郊外時,已經進入深夜了。巴士開進休息站(Howard Johnson 餐廳)。除了文哥之外,大家都下車。他好像是釘根在椅子上。於是,我們這群青年人就開始對他感到好奇,猜想著他是一位啥樣的人:或許他是一位船長,或是一位逃離老婆的丈夫,或是正要回家的一位老兵。當乘客都回到巴士後,我們其中一位女孩就在他旁邊坐下,並且自我介紹了。

「我們要去佛羅里達」,她開朗地說:「聽說那是很美麗的地方。」

「不錯」,他平靜地回說,好像逼他想起正努力要遺忘的一件事。

「你要一些酒嗎?」 她問。 他微笑接受,並一口喝盡。向她道謝後,他就撤回到先前的沈默。一會兒後,她回到自己座位,文哥就開始打盹了。

早晨他們在另一休息站,這次文哥下車了。女孩們很熱誠堅持要他加入他們。看來他非常害羞。當我們一直喋喋不休說著要在海灘睡覺時,他很緊張地抽煙,喝著黑咖啡。當大家又回到巴士,女孩再次坐在文哥旁邊。過一會兒之後,他慢慢地,痛苦地,講他的故事。他過去的四年都呆在紐約監獄裡,現在他要回家了。

「您結婚了嗎?」

「我不知道!」。

「您不知道?」 她訝異地問說。

「哈,說來話長。當我剛開始進入監獄時,我曾寫了一封信給妻子」,他說:「我告訴她,我可能會在牢裡呆一段很長的時間。若她不能忍受,或者孩子問太多問題,讓她創傷很深的話,請她把我遺忘好了,我會瞭解的。她可以另外找個新伴侶。對我來說,她是一位非常棒的女人,真是很了不起的女人。但若她選擇忘記我,我會瞭解的。我信上這樣告訴她,也告訴她不必寫信回我。三年半以來,她一直都沒有寫。」

「而您現在正要回家,還不知道?」

「呀!」,他很靦靦地回說「嗯 - - ,上星期,當我確定假釋獲准後,我曾再寫給她一封信。我們以前住在布朗斯維克鎮(Brunswick),就在傑克遜維爾(Jacksonville)市附近。要進入這鄉鎮前,有一個大橡樹。我告訴她,如果她還會接受我,她可以在大橡樹上綁一條黃色手帕,那我看到就會下車回家。如果她不想要我,那就算了,我看不見手帕,我就繼續我的旅程。」

「哇!」,女孩訝異得喊出 「哇!」。

她告訴了其他的同伴,大家都很快地被這氣氛感染。邊看著文哥拿出一張老舊,皺摺,把玩許久的照片,上面顯現著一位看來平凡但俊俏的女性,帶著三個孩子,車子漸漸往布朗斯維鎮接近了。

現在離開布朗斯維克還大約20英里,他們開始擠上右邊的靠窗座位,等著看那偉大的橡樹。不知覺中,巴士內有一種黑暗得令人窒息的沈靜,好似充滿了失去許久歲月的沈默。

文哥不再看窗外了,卻崩緊他的臉孔,戴上一副出獄人冷縮的面罩,就像準備自己面對著被再次嚴酷失望打擊所作的防衛。

逐漸地,離開布朗斯維克已經剩下是十英里,然後五。緊張的氣息讓人可以聽到心臟怦怦跳的聲 - - -

突然,除了文哥之外,所有青年人從他們的座位跳起來,尖叫,呼喊,哭泣,手足舞蹈。

文哥還是很安靜坐著,但臉上卻飽受震驚,他看到橡樹了。用20條黃色手帕覆蓋著,可能30條吧,甚至可能上百,整棵橡樹,就有如一幅黃色大布幔,歡迎的旗幟迎風飄揚……

在大家歡呼的叫喊下,文哥很激動地,慢慢地站起來,眼角噙著淚珠,走往前方下車,回家了!

 

原文來源:http://www.geocities.com/newkalibo/spl2.html

GOING HOME   by Pete Hamill  (原文刊登於1971 10 14的紐約郵時報)
--------------

I first heard this story a few years ago from a girl I had met in New York 's Greenwich Village . The girl told me that she had been one of the participants. Since then, others to whom I have related the tale have said that they had read a version of it in some forgotten book, or been told it by an acquaintance who said that it actually happened to a friend. Probably the story is one of those mysterious bits of folklore that emerge from the national subconscious every few years, to be told anew in one form or another. The cast of character shifts, the message endures. I like to think that it did happen, somewhere, sometime.

THEY WERE going to Fort Lauderdale-three boys and three girls-and when they boarded the bus, they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags, dreaming of golden beaches and sea tides as the gray cold of New York vanished behind them.

As the bus passed through New Jersey , they began to notice Vingo. He sat in front of them, dressed in a plain, ill-fitting suit, never moving, his dusty face masking his age. He chewed the inside of his lip a lot, frozen into some personal cocoon (作繭包藏起來) of silence.

Deep into the night, outside Washington , the bus pulled into a Howard Johnson's, and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat, and the young people began to wonder about him, trying to imagine his life; perhaps he was a sea captain, a runaway from his wife, an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus, one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.

"We're going to Florida ," she said brightly. "I hear it's beautiful."

"It is," he said quietly, as if remembering something he had tried to forget.

"Want some wine?" she said. He smiled and took a swig. He thanked her and retreated again into his silence. After a while, she went back to the others, and Vingo nodded in sleep.

In the morning they awoke outside another Howard Johnson's, and this time Vingo went in. The girl insisted that he join them. He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus, the girl sat with Vingo again, and after a while, slowly and painfully, he told his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years, and now he was going home.

"Are you married?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" she said.

"Well, when I was in the can (監牢) I wrote to my wife," he said. "I told her that I was going to be away a long time, and that if she couldn't stand it, if the kids kept asking questions, if it hurt too much, well, she could just forget me. I'd understand. Get a new guy, I said-she's a wonderful woman, really something- and forget about me. I told her she didn't have to write me or nothing. And she didn't. Not for three and a half years."

"And you're going home now, not knowing?"

"Yeah," he said shyly. "Well, last week, when I was sure the parole was coming through, I wrote her again.  We used to live in Brunswick , just before Jacksonville , and there's a big oak tree just as you come into town. I told her that if she'd take me back, she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree, and I'd get off and come home.  If she didn't want me, forget it, no handkerchief, and I'd go through."

"Wow," the girl said. "Wow."

She told the other, and soon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick , looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children- the woman handsome in a plain way, the children still unformed in the cracked, much- handled snapshots.

Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick , and the young people took over window seats on the right side, waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. The bus acquired a dark, hushed mood ( 陰暗的沈靜氣氛 ), full of the silence of absence and lost years.  Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con's mask (出獄人的面罩), as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment.

Then Brunswick was ten miles, and then five. Then, suddenly, all of the young people were up out of their seats, screaming and shouting and crying, doing small dances of exultation.  All except Vingo.

Vingo sat there stunned, looking at the oak tree.  It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs, 20 of them, 30 of them, maybe hundreds, a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the wind.  As the young people shouted, the old con rose from his seat and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.

------------------------------
This article when it appeared in Reader's Digest in the early 1970s inspired a popular song, one that is still sometimes heard.

 

 

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黃絲帶 (Yellow Ribbon)

過去駐伊朗的美國大使館官員被綁架,最後被釋放後,全美也綁著黃絲帶歡迎著他們回家。越戰生還回美國的大兵...

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