外文楼的丁香
——刘金
外文楼是山大老校区最令人留恋的一座建筑了。红门，灰砖墙，四尖角，歇山顶。门前的绿化带、小路、高大的梧桐树、花园，还有那片如神来之笔的小竹林，给古色古香的外文楼增添了无尽的生气。
最让我难忘的楼前墙根下那排一簇一簇的丁香树，不知什么年代种植的，但能看出树龄已经很长。每簇丁香中，总有一两株长得很高的，已经高到二层楼我房间的窗台，贴着窗框、窗扇和玻璃，好像在朝房间里面偷窥，又好像在吸引窗内的我的注意。雨过天晴，丁香树的叶子被洗得一尘不染、鲜绿如碧，让人自然想到李清照“绿肥红瘦”的绿。因为是细雨，丁香花并没有遭到破坏，仍然挺着她的花蕾，和碧绿而肥硕的叶子一起，昂首展现着一派勃勃的生机。丁香花隔了一层玻璃就在眼前，能看得十分真切，花蕾半开半闭，饱满有力，满带着春天的灵动和气息。我纳闷这样的花怎么总被和惆怅、哀怨联系起来，南唐李璟说“丁香空结雨中愁”、唐代李商隐用“芭蕉不展丁香结，同向春风各自愁、”，当代的戴望舒也说“丁香一样的结着愁怨的姑娘”。
丁香这么鲜艳，外面的空气想必也是沁人心脾的吧? 我就伸手去开窗，那还是老式的木窗，红色的油漆已经斑驳，下方用铁的插销固定。我用力向上拔起插销，窗就开了。顿时出现了让我惊喜的，也是让我至今念念不忘的一幕: 贴在窗玻璃上的那枝丁香，连花带叶，因为嫩枝的弹力，扑棱一声闯进了我的窗内，在灿烂的阳光下，摇摇晃晃向我舞动着身姿，似乎在炫耀她闯入的胜利；枝上的雨水飞溅到我的脸上、身上、窗台上，外面带着花香和新雨味儿的空气也 旋即进来，弥漫了整个房间。
多年以后我到德国，落户一个美丽的小市镇巴德洪堡。市长骄傲地告诉我，小镇的广告语是“香槟样的空气”。我微笑不语: 我在母校，在外文楼，早就沐浴过“丁香一样的芬芳”了。
如今，小竹林和梧桐树都没有了，愿来日再回外文楼，还能看到那些丁香，合适的季节还能闻到丁香的味儿。
Scent of lilacs recalls memories of university days
A lilac tree in front of Building No 7 at Shandong University still blooms on campus. [Photo provided to chinadaily.com.cn]
Building No 7, which is home to the Department of Foreign Languages and Literature, is the most fascinating building on the old campus of Shandong University. Featuring red doors, grey walls, a gable-and-hip roof and bearing a classic style and an antique flavor, the building has borrowed vitality from the greenbelt along the sunny side windows, the walking path, the tall empress trees, the cypress garden and the nearby bamboo grove that I always thought grew from the touch of a deity.
The most memorable thing to me is the clusters of lilac trees against the wall. It is unknown when the lilacs were planted there, but they seem to have kept well with the age of the building. One or two lilac trees in each cluster grew exceptionally high, stretching up to the windowsill of my second-floor room. Their top twigs used to move and touch the frames, casements and panes of the window, as if they were peeking into the room and attempting to attract my attention.
Each time when a light rain ended, the lilac leaves were washed spotlessly clean, vivid and verdant, reminding me of the description of "flourishing plump leaves and withering lean flowers" by the ancient Chinese poet Li Qingzhao. The lilac flowers had been bathing yet not destroyed by the rain and held up stamens and demonstrated their thriving liveliness amid the "fat" verdant leaves. The lilac flowers were seen crystal clear as they were just behind the pane glass. Some were open, some were semi-open and others were still closed in buds. But all of them were plump and strong, carrying the vigorous atmosphere of spring.
I often wondered why such lovely flowers had always been used to describe and express people's melancholy and plaintive moods as in the lines of Li Jing of South Tang Dynasty: "The lilac flowers tie knots of bud in vain to show its melancholy in the rain ", or as in the lines of Li Shangyin of the Tang Dynasty (618-907): "The banana leaves stay coiled and the lilac flowers remain knotted in buds. While they are stroked by the same spring breeze, they have their own concerns". There also are the lines of the contemporary poet Dai Wangshu: "a lassie with entangling melancholy like lilac flowers with knotted buds " .
As vibrant as the lilac flowers seemed, the air outside must be refreshing. I reached out my hand to open the window. It was an old-fashioned casement window, with an iron bolt below to lock it. The scarlet paint over the window had been chipped off here and there. I pulled up the bolt hard and the window opened. What amazed me, which has been vividly lingering in my mind for so many years, was that a lilac twig with leaves and flowers flapped into the window with its elastic force as soon as it lost the hold of the glass, like a student running into the wrong classroom. The rainwater on the twig splashed on my face, my front, and the windowsill. My room was soon pervaded by fresh air with the delicate scents of lilacs and rain.
Many years later, I went to Germany and settled down in a beautiful city named Bad Homburg. The mayor told me with particular pride, "The slogan of this city is Champagne-Luft (Champagne-scented air)". I quietly smiled and thought to myself: I was soaked long ago in the floral scent in Building 7 of my alma mater.
Today, in front of the building, the bamboo grove and the empress trees have been removed. The lilac trees are fortunately still there and have the chance to treat us with their fragrance in the right season, a fragrance I wish to savor again someday.
Mr. Liu Jin is Executive Director, President of China Everbright Bank (CEB).
