老照片
水月
看着一堆老照片，心里掠过一丝丝歉意。
一向没有整理照片的习惯，却有喜欢盲目拍照的毛病。从小到大，聚沙成塔，所以家里放着不少照片。可惜的是，孩提时代的“古董”黑白相片甚少，婴儿时仅存的一张秃头美照也已不知去向。
照片里一张张熟悉的面孔，虽然都同在这个小小的世界里生活着，只是地与地、心与心的距离，或远或近。时光流逝，总会有此情不再的遗憾，当时的欢乐，也只能在照片里寻回一点一滴。
在不同的时空里，跟不同的人合照，有些情还在，有些却不。所以对一些老照片的感情不无矛盾。它们跟其他照片一起藏在家里，但不会比一只杯子受宠，因为杯子能天天亲近主人。可这一张张泛黄的照片，却也是最难舍的家当，让人不忍丢弃。家可以搬，东西可以丢，但谁又曾忍心把照片里的自己抛弃!
对于这些刹那回忆，我又能怎样呢!照片里摄住的是躯壳，是影像，它没能摄住人的情， 又无法留住什么人、什么事。
至于情还在的旧照片，比如家人的、儿时玩伴的、同窗姐妹的、好朋友的等等，当然，也会像这些人与我的情谊一样共存，不只是在照片里，还在心坎中、生活里。
如今，学懂了不让自己随便地挤进照片里，我和你照个相儿，只因此情可再。
Old Photos
Shui Yue
Looking at a pile of old photos, I couldn’t help feeling rather regretful.
I’ve never got into the habit of sorting out photos. However, it’s almost a habit of mine, a bad habit at that, to have photos taken thoughtlessly. Thus, like the saying “many a little makes a mickle”, photos have been piling up in my childhood to womanhood. In spite of that, those black-and-white pictures taken in my early years are scarcely kept, except a few survivals regarded as antiques. A bald baby picture of me that I treasured, the only one left, is now missing.
Familiar faces flash one by one before my eyes. Though the world is so small and we all live in it, yet we are alienated by physical and psychological distances, some smaller, some larger. With the passage of time, one cannot, regretfully, relive it with the same feeling as one had in the picture. What one can retrieve from the old photos is but a fraction of the past joy.
One takes pictures with different persons in different time and places. They fill one with nostalgia in various degrees – some more, some less, and others none. That’s why one has conflict feelings towards the old photos. Still kept with the current ones, they are even less favored than a daily-used cup, which is always close to the owner. These photos, yellowish with time, are your valuables after all, something you cannot bear to part with. You can move house, leaving behind what you don’t want, but how can you abandon yourself that is part of each photo?
How these fragments of thought influence me! Photos retain our images rather than our sentiment, which may not remain. The image is always there, but not its owner, whom the photo cannot keep, neither can it the event.
Of course, there are some of the photos still retaining my affection, such as those taken with my family members, with favorite playmates, fellow girl-students, and best friends, not only in pictures but also in my life and heart.
Now, since I have learned all this, I’ll not allow myself to be included offhand in a photo taken with others. I’ll make sure that the friendship can last before I take a photo with somebody.
