冠状病毒让人们禁入北京的公园，现在他们又回来了

冠状病毒让人们禁入北京的公园，现在他们又回来了

Beijing's parks are an oasis in an otherwise dense and sprawling city. They provide a rare public space for people to ribbon dance, play checkers and practice tai chi. But in January and February, they were deserted. Strict quarantine measures locked down villages and cities, including Beijing.

北京的公园是一个绿洲，位于一个原本密集而广阔的城市里。它们为人们提供了一个难得的公共空间，供人们跳缎带舞、下棋和练习太极拳。但是在一月和二月，公园被荒废了。包括北京在内的村庄和城市都被严格的隔离措施封锁。

Now, new case counts are dropping in China and, even though there is concern about a possible second wave of patients, some quarantine restrictions are being loosened. So Beijing's sun-deprived residents are turning out once again, — albeit carefully — with face masks and plenty of distance between park goers."

现在，中国的新病例数量正在下降，尽管有人担心可能会出现第二波患者，但一些隔离限制正在放松。因此，北京不见阳光的居民再次出门了，尽管他们很小心，戴着口罩，去公园的人之间距离也很远。”

We met One of those residents as she was hanging upside down from a tree in Beijing's Temple of Earth Park.

在北京的天坛公园，我们遇见了一位倒挂在树上的居民。

She insists she's not dizzy upside down — then practices a few acrobatic twists and turns — all while hanging by her hands from the branches. "Let me tell you, young woman, you just need to practice and you will be up here too," she tells me.

她坚持说她倒挂时不会头晕，然后练习了一些杂技式的扭转和转身，所有的动作都是用手吊在树枝上。“让我告诉你，年轻的女士，你只需要练习，你也会在这里，”她告诉我。

Now retired, she used to come to the park frequently. Then the coronavirus outbreak hit, and she shut herself inside for two months, like hundreds of millions of other Chinese residents. She was drawn back to the park only a few days ago as warmer weather hit the city.

现在退休了，她经常来公园。然后冠状病毒爆发了，就像其他数亿中国居民一样，她把自己关在家里两个月。就在几天前，随着城市天气变暖，她再次回到了公园。

As the outbreak of the new coronavirus is fading in China. Small groups carefully cluster more than 3 feet away from each other in the park, kicking the feathered jianzi to one another.

随着这种新型冠状病毒在中国的爆发逐渐减弱。在公园里，三五成群的人小心翼翼地聚集在离彼此3英尺远的地方，把长着羽毛的毽子互相踢来踢去。

A short walk away, under the eaves of a Ming dynasty style gazebo, 63-year-old Yang is strumming a ruan — an ancient, four-stringed mandolin-like instrument.

走了一小段路，63岁的杨先生在一座明代凉亭的屋檐下，弹奏着一种名为“阮”的古代四弦曼陀林乐器。

"You come to the park and play with whoever you want. You jam well with me, we play together. You jam better with another person? No problem!" he says.

“你可以来公园和任何你想玩的人玩。你和我合得来，我们就一起玩。你和另一个人比较合得来?没问题!”他说。

Du looks wistfully at the people. She used to sing regularly with them at the park, but today she carefully stands a good 10 feet away and sings to herself through a face mask.

杜女士若有所思地望着人群。她过去经常和他们一起在公园唱歌，但今天她小心翼翼地站在10英尺远的地方，戴着口罩给自己唱歌。

Today, Du sings a more modern aria from the Chinese epic, "Dream of the Red Chamber." The song is about a sickly young woman gathering dying blossoms for burial.

今天，杜女士演唱了中国史诗《红楼梦》中更为现代的咏叹调。这首歌讲的是一个体弱多病的年轻女人收集即将凋谢的花朵来埋葬。

"The lyrics are so tragic but they're so beautiful," she says. Du likes the emotional ballads the best because, she says, "singing about difficult experiences gives me considerable insight about myself."

她说:“歌词很悲惨，但却很美。”杜女士最喜欢抒情歌谣，因为她说:“演唱困难的经历让我对自己有了深刻的认识。”