她唱了，外婆跟着也加入进来，

She begins, and my grandmother joins her.

母女俩唱着，仿佛年轻的女孩。

Mother and daughter sing like young girls.

如果父亲还活着，他会拉起

If my father were alive, he would play

他的手风琴，并像船一样摇摆。

his accordion and sway like a boat.

我没去过北京和颐和园，

I’ve never been in Peking, or the Summer Palace,

也没有站在那巨大的石船上面，

nor stood on the great Stone Boat to watch

看着雨落在昆明湖，那些游人

the rain begin on Kuen Ming Lake, the picnickers

从草地上急急地跑开。

running away in the grass.

但我喜欢听雨的歌唱；

But I love to hear it sung;

睡莲如何被雨水浇灌，

how the waterlilies fill with rain until

直至倾覆，水泻进水里，

they overturn, spilling water into water,

然后再转过来，灌到更多。

then rock back, and fill with more.

两个女人开始哭了——

Both women have begun to cry.

但都没有停止歌唱。

But neither stops her song.