音乐即自由-第一章 1952-1969 翻译（2）
加班很晚回家看老梁讲史记，恰讲到著名刺客故引用近代故事，1910年，后来的大汉奸，彼时年仅27岁的汪精卫刺杀清朝摄政王载沣的故事，汪是否当时还是意气风发，微躯感言，而后经历世事，又陷入权利的斗争，与海外势力勾结出卖中国这片土地人民的利益。
听着听着我却开始遐想，想起了坂本龙一配乐的《末代皇帝》这部电影，电影的主角正是宣统皇帝溥仪。年幼时曾听我父亲说过我的名字泽宣的由来，其中宣这个字正是来自皇家年号，喻意美好，宣扬教化、携人为乐，正如《周颂》所言，“宣哲维人，文武维后”，寓意仁德包容、平和至善。但是溥仪的悲凄的生活和人生的起落让人唏嘘，希望我能引以为戒，“悟以往之不谏，知来者之可追”，在时代背景下怀抱清朗，行丰盈温和之举。
继续翻译《音乐既自由》的第二页如下：
When it comes to the piano, there was something in my childhood that left an even deeper impression. I must have been around five years old. One day, the teacher asked us to paint on glass panels with watercolors.
Under the bright sunlight, the glass panels shimmered with brilliance. Painting on glass—how was it different from painting on paper? I didn’t know. But the teacher told us, “We’ll move the glass afterward.” I didn’t quite understand her meaning, but I obediently followed her instructions. That unforgettable moment when the sunlight shone through the watercolors painted on the glass—there was a vivid, crystalline beauty to it. It felt like I had touched upon the essence of art. Yet, what struck me more profoundly was the fragile nature of the glass itself. It seemed as though the fragility of the glass and the dazzling colors were intertwined, both teetering on the edge of shattering, leaving only an ephemeral beauty in their wake.
As I painted, a subtle unease crept into my heart. I couldn’t help but wonder: what would happen if the glass fell to the ground and shattered? Would we still use such fragile material for our lessons? And if not, what would replace it?
This kindergarten was chosen for me by my aunt. My parents were absent; my father, a soldier from Shandong, was stationed far away, and my mother, an editor for a publishing house in Beijing, was constantly traveling for work. At the time, she was based in Nanjing. I lived in my maternal aunt’s home, near Xiaoyun Bridge in Dongcheng District. My aunt had three sons, the youngest of whom was also attending kindergarten. To make things more convenient, she enrolled me in the same school.
And so, I found myself in this kindergarten that my aunt had carefully selected. It was here, by chance, that I encountered the piano. Had I been sent to a different kindergarten or lived a different life, perhaps my path would never have crossed with music. Who can say? My life might have unfolded along an entirely different trajectory.
At that time, I didn’t particularly love playing the piano. My playing was nothing extraordinary, and, to top it off, there wasn’t even a piano at home.
My mother was the eldest in her family. Beneath her were three younger brothers, the youngest of whom—my uncle—is also a writer.
