Title: Looking at Owls under the Moon
Text: [America] Jane Ullen
Photo: [America] John Hugh
Translator: Lin Liang
Suitable reading age: 5-8 years old
Awards: Won the Cadic Prize of 1988.
Picture book introduction:
On a windless winter night, my father took the girl to visit the owl in the forest. The moon is high in the sky, reflecting the light of the whole day. The whistle of the train came in the distance, long and deep, with a little sadness. What sounded the whistle was the barking of dogs ... The girl didn't dare to make a sound all the way because her father kept reminding her that it was necessary to visit owls very quietly. On the empty snow, the two walked in tandem, leaving only footprints of different lengths. Dad and the little girl are dreaming, quietly pursuing the whereabouts of the owl. What kind of adventure is this? Can they find the long-awaited owl? The painter presents the feeling of quietness and coldness in winter from a wide-angle and wide-field perspective, and shows the feeling of interdependence and mutual inheritance between father and daughter.
It was late at night in winter, and after my bedtime, my father and I went skiing.
One winter night, my father and I went out to watch owls. At that time, it was already midnight, and we had not slept yet.
There is no wind. These trees are motionless, like giant statues.
There is no wind outside, and those big trees stand upright like tall statues.
The moon is so bright that the sky seems to be shining.
The moonlight is bright, ie the moonlight is dazzling and the sky is bright.
Somewhere behind us, a train whistle sounded long and deep, like a sad song.
Far behind came the whistle of the train, deep but long, like a song, which sounded so sad.
I can hear the sound through the wool hat that my father pulled down to cover my ears.
Dad pulled down my wool hat to cover my ears.
A farm dog answered the train, and then a second dog joined in.
But I can still hear the sound through the hat. A dog on the farm barked with the whistle, and then the second dog barked.
They sang for a long time, trains and dogs.
The train and the dog sang together for a long time.
When their voices faded away, it was as quiet as a dream.
After the noise disappeared, it was very quiet around, just like in a dream.
My father and I continued to walk towards the Woods.
Dad and I have been walking towards the Woods.
Our feet crunched on the soft snow, and small gray footprints followed us.
We rustled in the soft snow, leaving small gray footprints.
Dad made a long shadow, but mine was short and round.
My father's long shadow dragged on the ground, while mine was short and round.
I had to run after him from time to time, and my short, round shadow bumped behind me.
Before long, I had to run a few steps to keep up with my father, and my short and round shadow stumbled after me.
But I never called out. If you go to owling, you must keep quiet, which is what Dad always says.
But I'm not tired. I must keep quiet when I go out to see owls. Dad always said that.
I have been waiting for a long time to go skiing with my father.
I am looking forward to watching owls with my father. I've been looking forward to it for a long time.
We reached the boundary of the pine tree. Against the background of the sky, the pine tree was black and sharp, and my father raised his hand.
We came to the pine forest. In the bright moonlight, pine trees look black and sharp. Dad raised his hand and made a gesture.
I stopped and waited.
I stopped at once.
He looked up, as if searching for the stars, as if looking at the map above.
Standing in the same place waiting, my father looked up, as if looking for the stars in the sky, and as if looking at a map in the air.
The moon turned his face into a silver mask.
The moonlight made his face look like he was wearing a silver mask.
Then he cried, "Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-"The voice of a great owl "Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-".
He began to cry, imitating the cry of a big-horned owl. "Hoo, hoo, hoo!"
He shouted again. And then again.
He barks at one moment and barks at another.
After each call, he was silent, and we were all listening for a while.
Every time he calls, he stops for a while, and we both listen quietly with our ears pricked up.
But no one answered.
But I didn't hear anything.
Dad shrugged, and I shrugged.
Dad shrugged, and I shrugged.
I am not disappointed.
I'm not sad.
My brothers all say that sometimes there are owls and sometimes there are no owls.
My brothers said that owls sometimes appear and sometimes they don't.
As we walked on, I could feel the cold, as if someone's cold palm was put down on my back.
We walked on, and I felt the cold weather, like someone pressing my back with a cold palm.
My nose and cheeks feel cold and hot at the same time.
The nose and cheeks are hot and cold, and it hurts.
But I didn't say a word.
But I didn't say a word of complaint.
If you go to owling, you must keep quiet and let yourself heat up.
Come out (go) to see owls, be quiet and be strong.
We walked into the Woods.
We walked into the Woods.
Shadow is the darkest thing I have ever seen.
Those shadows are darker than anything I have ever seen.
They stained the snow.
Covering the snow on the ground.
My mouth feels furry because the scarf on it is wet and warm.
The scarf that covers my mouth is warm and wet, and it protects my mouth with fur.
I didn't ask what was hidden behind the dark tree in the dead of night.
In the dead of night, is there anything hidden behind the dark tree? I didn't ask.
When you go to the owl, you must be brave.
Come out (go) to see owls, be brave.
Then we came to a clearing in the dark forest.
We came to the clearing of the Black Forest.
The moon hangs high above our heads.
The moon is high in the sky.
It seems to be right in the center of the clearing, and the snow below is whiter than the milk in the cereal bowl.
The moonlight shone like it was aimed at the center of the clearing. Snow in the moonlight looks whiter than milk in a porcelain bowl.
I sighed, and when I heard the sound, my father raised his hand.
"Ah-"I was panting, and my father heard me and motioned me not to make any noise.
I put my hand on my scarf and listened hard.
I quickly covered my mouth with gloves, and I listened attentively.
Then dad shouted, "Woo-woo-who-who-woo-woo." Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo. "
Dad started calling again. "Hoo, hoo, hoo!" "Hoo, hoo, hoo!"
I listened and watched, and my ears ached and my eyes blurred with cold.
I listened attentively. In this cold air, my ears ached and my eyes were covered with fog.
Dad raised his face to call again, but before he could speak, an echo came through the Woods.
Dad raised his face to call again, but before he could speak, an owl's voice came from the Woods.
"Whoo-hoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-hoo."
"Hoo, hoo, hoo!"
Dad almost laughed.
Dad has a smile on his face.
Then he called back: "woo-woo-who-who-woo-woo." It's like he and the owl are talking about dinner, the Woods, the moon or the cold.
He responded, and then he talked to the owl as if he were there, talking about dinner, the Woods, the moon and the cold weather.
I took off my gloves from the scarf on my mouth, and I almost laughed.
I loosened my gloves covering my mouth and wanted to laugh happily.
The owl's cry is getting closer and closer, coming from the high tree on the edge of the grass.
The owl's cry from the edge of the grass and above the trees is getting closer and closer.
Nothing moved on the grass.
There is no movement on the grass.
Suddenly, the shadow of an owl, a part of the shadow of a big tree, flew over our heads.
Suddenly, the shadow of an owl, separated from the shadow of a big tree on the ground, flew overhead.
We watched silently, with hot air in our mouths, the hot air of the words we didn't say.
We watched, our mouths were hot but we didn't make any noise, and we didn't say a word about many things we wanted to say.
The shadow let out a cry again.
The flying shadow let out another cry.
Dad turned on his big flashlight and caught the owl just before it landed on the branch.
Dad turned on his big flashlight and shone it on the owl that had just landed on the branch.
For a minute, three minutes, maybe even a hundred minutes, we stared at each other.
We watch owls for a minute, three minutes, or even a whole hundred minutes.
Then the owl fluttered its wings and flew high, leaving the branch like a silent shadow.
Later, the owl flapped its wings and flew away from the branches, like a silent shadow.
It flew back to the forest.
It flew back to the Woods.
It's time to go home, "Dad said to me.
"It's time to go home." Dad said to me.
I knew I could talk, and I could even laugh.
I know I can talk loudly and laugh.
But I am a shadow on our way home.
But on the way home, I was silent like a shadow.
When you cry, you don't need words, warmth, anything, just hope.
You don't need to talk, be warm and comfortable, or anything else, as long as you have a hope in your heart.
That's what dad said.
That's what dad said.
The hope of flying with silent wings in the bright moonlight.
That hope will fly forward with silent wings to see owls in the bright moonlight.
The author doesn't pay much attention to the feeling of a father licking calves, but the painter vividly conveys this feeling of loving his daughter through the picture-we see father and daughter walking hand in hand to the forest; When we saw the owl falling from the sky, the father's desperate hand protected his daughter; Finally, we also saw the warm and touching back of the father carrying his daughter home ... The image of the little girl was even more touching, and most of her face was covered. The painter just drew a vivid picture of her inner surprise and anxiety with the help of her running, looking around and frightened body movements. However, what attracted me most was his owl-infested Lin Mang-dense, deep and creepy. One by one, the distant scenery and the quickly pulled up overhead lens aggravated this feeling. John? Xiuneng's paintings are watercolor and pen line drawing, which looks like China's ink painting. He used a large area of blank space to show moonlight and snow under moonlight, showing a beautiful scene.
It's been a long time since I read a picture book with such a light prose style, and I think of an overused word: edify the soul. Children and adults should really read this kind of soul-cultivating work.