It was bitter cold as I set forth, after an absence of more than twenty years, on a visit to my native heath[1] over two thousand li away.
It was in the deep of winter, and as I neared my destination, the sky became overcast and a cold wind began to moan through the boat. Looking through the cracks in the mat covering, I saw a few dismal and forlorn villages scattered over the landscape under a pale yellow sky, without any signs of life, and I could not help but experience a feeling of sadness.
Ah, this could not be the countryside that had been constantly in my thoughts for the past twenty years!
The country that I remembered was entirely different and so much better than this. But when I tried to recall its particular beauty and describe its special merits, I could think of none, and I realized that it was, after all, about as I now beheld it. My native heath, I explained to myself, must have been like this always. It might not have made any progress, but there was nothing particularly sad about it; it appeared so to me only because of the state of my own feelings, which was not exactly cheerful on the occasion of this visit.
- ↑ Though heath may sound more Scottish than English, there is no better equivalent for the Chinese term ku-hsiang (literally, "old country"), which can be town or country and indicates an indefinite region or district rather than any specific place.
