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正月十五,刚到三亚,一路风尘还未洗刷,鹿回头宾馆的服务生送来当天的《海南日报》。顺手一翻,不料赫然入目的竟是“侯宝林大师逝世”! 是夜,满月若冰轮,将庭园里的芭蕉、油棕、椰树、菠萝以及叫不上名字的奇花异草刷成银白,而烟花爆竹却又此起彼伏,中夜不辍。明灭之间,眼前仿佛闪现出侯先生那张总是笑得极有内容的脸。他真的去了么? 我久久北望,在南天的月色中。余生也晚,结识侯先生不过十几年。但蒙先生不弃,熟得快走得也勤。侯老旧居的地安门西的平房、木樨地的新居,以及东四那狭窄小院里的“半痴子书斋”……都是我登堂入室、面聆教诲的地方。在一次戏曲界大师们的聚会上,侯老指着我和《北京晚报》
January 15, just arrived in Sanya, all the way yet to wash the dust, Luhuitou hotel waiter sent the day’s “Hainan Daily.” Smoothly turned over, unexpectedly impressively into the purpose of actually “Hou Baolin master death!” Is the night, the full moon if the ice wheel, the garden banana, oil palm, coconut, pineapple and nameless exotic flowers brush silver , But fireworks but one after another, stop in the night. Between the Ming and the Ming, in front of me seems to flatter Mr. Hou is always a very laughing face content. Did he really go? I look a long time north, in the moonlight in the South. The rest of his life is late, to meet Mr. Hou, but more than ten years. But Mr Meng does not abandon, walked cooked quickly. Hou’s old home in Mendan West’s bungalow, a new home in Muxidi, and the narrow courtyard of the East Fourth, “half-idiot book fasting” ... ... are my dedication, face the teachings of the place. In a gathering of opera masters, Hou old pointing me and “Beijing Evening News”