East Berlin's June Boat Song
Chapter 60 60
===========================
It's snowing outside the window, it's beautiful.
One by one, they flutter in the wind like goose feathers, sometimes they are rolled up to the distant blue-gray sky, and sometimes they fall quietly.
The first snow in 1957, I lay on a warm hospital bed, enjoying it calmly with a smile.
In my abdomen, there is a snow-white gauze wrapped around it. Under the gauze is a hole made by a Bobosha sniper rifle. It is trying to heal by itself, just like the wounds on my back, arms, and face. Same.
I heard from them that I was still holding the radio that Andy gave me when I was hit, so the guards kindly picked it up, even though it fell as badly as me, but now it is being held by me hand.
The music on the radio was a bit choppy and out of tune, but I still enjoyed it.
Listen, it's "Lily Marlene".
"Before the barracks
before the gate
has a lamp
still lit
we will meet again there
just stand under that lamp
As before, Lily Marlene
As before, Lily Marlene
The figure of the two of us
it seems like it's all in one
It's like a couple
It doesn't matter if people see it
Everyone sees the same
As long as we meet under that light
As before, Lily Marlene
As before, Lily Marlene
......
I can recognize your footsteps
your steps have a style
The night becomes burning intolerable
I forgot it was so far away
something so sad is going to happen to me
Who will you be with under that lamp at this moment
with you lily marlene
with you lily marlene
whether in this quiet room
or anywhere on earth
i long to dream
your enchanting lips
You whirl and dance in the night mist
I stand under that lamp
As before, Lily Marlene
As ever, Lily Marlene. "
The lyrics are beautiful and the melody is beautiful, which makes me feel like I have returned to my childhood.I was 12 years old at the time, and this music was playing in the streets and alleys of Berlin. The beautiful female voice not only captured the souls of the German soldiers, but even the Allied troops.But it is very strange, why is this Nazi song still played on the radio stations of the East Germany?
With two clicks, the music stopped abruptly, like a ribbon being cut.Then there was rustling white noise, and the tape was rewound. I shook the radio suspiciously, and then heard the familiar piano music coming from it.
Tchaikovsky's June Barque.
My heart tightened suddenly, and I reached out to turn off the radio, but stopped the moment I touched the button.
But what's wrong with it?
It's just a piano piece.
I lay back in a daze, sinking myself in the soft pillows, and looked out the window.In the heavy snow, the oak trees were covered with a thick layer of silver, and the branches shrank with cold.The sky seemed to be frozen in ice, gloomy and dim, and it was pressed down heavily, making the already cramped world even more suffocating.
In the distance, there is a slightly raised mountain forest, which turns into an indistinct black-gray in the wind and snow, like Monet's oil painting, covered with a layer of specious trance.
There was supposed to be my destination, a place of freedom and new life, but I couldn't get there.
But you... are you still there?
Many years later, I found out that in the heavy snow, there was a lonely man who almost froze to death in the snow in the forest, just waiting for someone who would never come again.When they met again after a long time, the situation was very different. For him, he could no longer say what he should have said easily.
The Volga River flows in the ward, the June river slams into the snow in East Berlin, the iron-barred windows cannot close the eyes eager to escape, a person has only one body, and a person has only one soul, but they are related to each other. separate.
When the snow falls, I run under the street lights.The hot bullet sank into my soft abdominal cavity.
I closed my eyes and remembered the moonlight shining through the glass into the utility room that night.
Outside the ward, there was the sound of soldiers' boots clinking as they saluted. When I turned my head, he had already opened the door.
"I thought you wouldn't listen to this piece again."
He took off his snow-stained military overcoat, took off his military cap and held it in his arms, and smoothed his silver hair back.Seemingly in a good mood, he stretched his slender neck, rolled his shoulders back, and smiled brightly at me.
I turned my head silently.
He sat on the edge of the bed, took off his gloves, moved his joints, and held my hand.
"This vacation will be very long. We can stay together in the Soviet Union for a long time. You can think about where to go in advance, and I will accompany you." He said as he lifted my quilt and lifted my Looking at the sick clothes: "But I am always worried about your injury."
He touched my belly lightly, and I couldn't help shaking.
He pursed his lips and chuckled, lowered his eyelashes, and then raised them again, like a flash of lightning, shining with green fire—God knows how he can still laugh.My heart is like a broken stone in the corner, soaked in filthy snow water, messy.Not long after, there was silence in the ward, only Tchaikovsky's June boat song was floating in the air.
"Do you know the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall in Moscow?" He said suddenly: "This time I will take you to the scene and listen to our best orchestra in the Soviet Union play this piece."
He leaned closer and pinched my shoulder, and said distressedly: "Then I'll give you something delicious, you're already too skinny."
The snow was still falling, and after the June boat song fell, Mozart's symphony began to play. He stretched out his hand and gently pressed the close button. Since then, the ward fell into complete silence, only the faint sound of wind outside the window was heard, The sound of our each other's breathing.
Come to think of it, this was the first time we sat together so calmly.
In the past, I was full of lust for him, and there seemed to be endless words and endless love. When the two of them were together, they were always in flames, explosive, lingering.Then, I felt resentful towards him, and I cried and screamed when I saw him. I was seriously traumatized by the extreme stimulation, and I couldn't maintain a stable mood like a normal person.
It is always difficult for me to maintain a clear mind in front of him. This is probably the case when I am infatuated with a person. I lose myself and become a product of emotions.Sad, but helpless.
But today, I am very calm.
I just quietly looked at the snow outside, and I didn't even care about his gaze on me all the time.
After a long time, I turned to ask him.
"Is the snow in Siberia so beautiful?"
This is the first time I have spoken to him in the past few months. His voice is very soft, like a feather brushing against his ears, but his eyes suddenly brighten up, and a spring-like smile blooms, just like I saw him a long time ago. The pink and white apple blossoms that have passed.He stroked my face and said softly: "It's very beautiful, a hundred times, a thousand times more beautiful than here."
I nodded: "I want to see."
He smiled and agreed, and his soft eyes flowed out of his green eyes like flowing water. If you saw him like this, you would definitely not think that he is such a cruel person.But people are never born like this. If I hadn't walked into his heart a lot in the days to come, I wouldn't have known that the person in front of me was already broken.And his fate was so cruel that he had never been kind to him.
Perhaps my love for him later included more pity.What he is destined not to have, I can no longer give him.
This will be the regret of my life, but it's all for later.
On the night before I left East Berlin, a man came to see me at Karlshorst Hospital—Dun Bazel, now my dear subordinate of the Senior Sheriff.
Like Andy, he always likes to have red eyes, looks weak and weak, and his behavior is exactly the same-sitting by my bed, blushing like an unworldly girl and secretly handing me an envelope.
"This is what Minister Milk asked me to give you. He said that what is lost must be avoided, but something must be left."
I took the envelope in some surprise, tore off the seal, and then fumbled out the contents.
In an instant, I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my face.
On the crucified Jesus, there are a few dark red spots left.This silver cross necklace returned to me with Alan's blood and soul.
Trembling, I put the necklace around my neck and said the prayer.Alan's lively smiling face seemed to appear in front of him again, and he smiled and said to me——
I am your friend and I will always be your friend.
Up to now, those regrets have echoed in my ears. Logically speaking, I should hate Alan, hate him for sending me to Julian, and induce me to fall in love with him step by step.But as long as he thought of the tear stains on his childlike and peaceful face when he was taking a nap in the sun that afternoon, he couldn't hate him at all.
He is just an executor, and he has no choice in the game of the big shots.
Sasha said that every identity of a spy is true.So after these six years, will I still doubt Alan's feelings for me?
No, in my heart, he has always been my friend.This is also the reason for my pain now. No matter how reasonable it is, it cannot cover up the cruel fact that I killed my good friend with my own hands.
It's just, my Alan, when we first met, I fell into your arms, but in the last parting, you were in my arms.You left this world full of regrets, but you still refused to reveal the name of that person...
Who is the one you love?
Does he know that you are gone?
In February 1957, I was supported by Julian and boarded a special Soviet military plane. We would cross Poland and fly to that vast and beautiful land.
This is not a new beginning, nor an old end.It's just a decent patch on a torn piece of clothing, the marks are obvious, it's not pretty, but at least it allows the piece of clothing to continue to fulfill its mission as a piece of clothing.
Presumably all emotions in the world need stitching, but ours especially.
It's snowing outside the window, it's beautiful.
One by one, they flutter in the wind like goose feathers, sometimes they are rolled up to the distant blue-gray sky, and sometimes they fall quietly.
The first snow in 1957, I lay on a warm hospital bed, enjoying it calmly with a smile.
In my abdomen, there is a snow-white gauze wrapped around it. Under the gauze is a hole made by a Bobosha sniper rifle. It is trying to heal by itself, just like the wounds on my back, arms, and face. Same.
I heard from them that I was still holding the radio that Andy gave me when I was hit, so the guards kindly picked it up, even though it fell as badly as me, but now it is being held by me hand.
The music on the radio was a bit choppy and out of tune, but I still enjoyed it.
Listen, it's "Lily Marlene".
"Before the barracks
before the gate
has a lamp
still lit
we will meet again there
just stand under that lamp
As before, Lily Marlene
As before, Lily Marlene
The figure of the two of us
it seems like it's all in one
It's like a couple
It doesn't matter if people see it
Everyone sees the same
As long as we meet under that light
As before, Lily Marlene
As before, Lily Marlene
......
I can recognize your footsteps
your steps have a style
The night becomes burning intolerable
I forgot it was so far away
something so sad is going to happen to me
Who will you be with under that lamp at this moment
with you lily marlene
with you lily marlene
whether in this quiet room
or anywhere on earth
i long to dream
your enchanting lips
You whirl and dance in the night mist
I stand under that lamp
As before, Lily Marlene
As ever, Lily Marlene. "
The lyrics are beautiful and the melody is beautiful, which makes me feel like I have returned to my childhood.I was 12 years old at the time, and this music was playing in the streets and alleys of Berlin. The beautiful female voice not only captured the souls of the German soldiers, but even the Allied troops.But it is very strange, why is this Nazi song still played on the radio stations of the East Germany?
With two clicks, the music stopped abruptly, like a ribbon being cut.Then there was rustling white noise, and the tape was rewound. I shook the radio suspiciously, and then heard the familiar piano music coming from it.
Tchaikovsky's June Barque.
My heart tightened suddenly, and I reached out to turn off the radio, but stopped the moment I touched the button.
But what's wrong with it?
It's just a piano piece.
I lay back in a daze, sinking myself in the soft pillows, and looked out the window.In the heavy snow, the oak trees were covered with a thick layer of silver, and the branches shrank with cold.The sky seemed to be frozen in ice, gloomy and dim, and it was pressed down heavily, making the already cramped world even more suffocating.
In the distance, there is a slightly raised mountain forest, which turns into an indistinct black-gray in the wind and snow, like Monet's oil painting, covered with a layer of specious trance.
There was supposed to be my destination, a place of freedom and new life, but I couldn't get there.
But you... are you still there?
Many years later, I found out that in the heavy snow, there was a lonely man who almost froze to death in the snow in the forest, just waiting for someone who would never come again.When they met again after a long time, the situation was very different. For him, he could no longer say what he should have said easily.
The Volga River flows in the ward, the June river slams into the snow in East Berlin, the iron-barred windows cannot close the eyes eager to escape, a person has only one body, and a person has only one soul, but they are related to each other. separate.
When the snow falls, I run under the street lights.The hot bullet sank into my soft abdominal cavity.
I closed my eyes and remembered the moonlight shining through the glass into the utility room that night.
Outside the ward, there was the sound of soldiers' boots clinking as they saluted. When I turned my head, he had already opened the door.
"I thought you wouldn't listen to this piece again."
He took off his snow-stained military overcoat, took off his military cap and held it in his arms, and smoothed his silver hair back.Seemingly in a good mood, he stretched his slender neck, rolled his shoulders back, and smiled brightly at me.
I turned my head silently.
He sat on the edge of the bed, took off his gloves, moved his joints, and held my hand.
"This vacation will be very long. We can stay together in the Soviet Union for a long time. You can think about where to go in advance, and I will accompany you." He said as he lifted my quilt and lifted my Looking at the sick clothes: "But I am always worried about your injury."
He touched my belly lightly, and I couldn't help shaking.
He pursed his lips and chuckled, lowered his eyelashes, and then raised them again, like a flash of lightning, shining with green fire—God knows how he can still laugh.My heart is like a broken stone in the corner, soaked in filthy snow water, messy.Not long after, there was silence in the ward, only Tchaikovsky's June boat song was floating in the air.
"Do you know the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall in Moscow?" He said suddenly: "This time I will take you to the scene and listen to our best orchestra in the Soviet Union play this piece."
He leaned closer and pinched my shoulder, and said distressedly: "Then I'll give you something delicious, you're already too skinny."
The snow was still falling, and after the June boat song fell, Mozart's symphony began to play. He stretched out his hand and gently pressed the close button. Since then, the ward fell into complete silence, only the faint sound of wind outside the window was heard, The sound of our each other's breathing.
Come to think of it, this was the first time we sat together so calmly.
In the past, I was full of lust for him, and there seemed to be endless words and endless love. When the two of them were together, they were always in flames, explosive, lingering.Then, I felt resentful towards him, and I cried and screamed when I saw him. I was seriously traumatized by the extreme stimulation, and I couldn't maintain a stable mood like a normal person.
It is always difficult for me to maintain a clear mind in front of him. This is probably the case when I am infatuated with a person. I lose myself and become a product of emotions.Sad, but helpless.
But today, I am very calm.
I just quietly looked at the snow outside, and I didn't even care about his gaze on me all the time.
After a long time, I turned to ask him.
"Is the snow in Siberia so beautiful?"
This is the first time I have spoken to him in the past few months. His voice is very soft, like a feather brushing against his ears, but his eyes suddenly brighten up, and a spring-like smile blooms, just like I saw him a long time ago. The pink and white apple blossoms that have passed.He stroked my face and said softly: "It's very beautiful, a hundred times, a thousand times more beautiful than here."
I nodded: "I want to see."
He smiled and agreed, and his soft eyes flowed out of his green eyes like flowing water. If you saw him like this, you would definitely not think that he is such a cruel person.But people are never born like this. If I hadn't walked into his heart a lot in the days to come, I wouldn't have known that the person in front of me was already broken.And his fate was so cruel that he had never been kind to him.
Perhaps my love for him later included more pity.What he is destined not to have, I can no longer give him.
This will be the regret of my life, but it's all for later.
On the night before I left East Berlin, a man came to see me at Karlshorst Hospital—Dun Bazel, now my dear subordinate of the Senior Sheriff.
Like Andy, he always likes to have red eyes, looks weak and weak, and his behavior is exactly the same-sitting by my bed, blushing like an unworldly girl and secretly handing me an envelope.
"This is what Minister Milk asked me to give you. He said that what is lost must be avoided, but something must be left."
I took the envelope in some surprise, tore off the seal, and then fumbled out the contents.
In an instant, I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my face.
On the crucified Jesus, there are a few dark red spots left.This silver cross necklace returned to me with Alan's blood and soul.
Trembling, I put the necklace around my neck and said the prayer.Alan's lively smiling face seemed to appear in front of him again, and he smiled and said to me——
I am your friend and I will always be your friend.
Up to now, those regrets have echoed in my ears. Logically speaking, I should hate Alan, hate him for sending me to Julian, and induce me to fall in love with him step by step.But as long as he thought of the tear stains on his childlike and peaceful face when he was taking a nap in the sun that afternoon, he couldn't hate him at all.
He is just an executor, and he has no choice in the game of the big shots.
Sasha said that every identity of a spy is true.So after these six years, will I still doubt Alan's feelings for me?
No, in my heart, he has always been my friend.This is also the reason for my pain now. No matter how reasonable it is, it cannot cover up the cruel fact that I killed my good friend with my own hands.
It's just, my Alan, when we first met, I fell into your arms, but in the last parting, you were in my arms.You left this world full of regrets, but you still refused to reveal the name of that person...
Who is the one you love?
Does he know that you are gone?
In February 1957, I was supported by Julian and boarded a special Soviet military plane. We would cross Poland and fly to that vast and beautiful land.
This is not a new beginning, nor an old end.It's just a decent patch on a torn piece of clothing, the marks are obvious, it's not pretty, but at least it allows the piece of clothing to continue to fulfill its mission as a piece of clothing.
Presumably all emotions in the world need stitching, but ours especially.
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