6am:a corner of Pukou, chickens scratch the ground between the railway tracks; sunrise.
早上6点：普口的一个角落，鸡在铁轨之间抓地；日出。
A prevalence of old faces, those who have risen with the dawn. Some exercise with slow movements by the side of the road, others still decked out in quilted jackets stop for a chat. Steam rises from the roadside cafes.
老面孔盛行，那些随着黎明而崛起的人。 有些人在路边缓慢运动，其他人仍然穿着绗缝夹克停下来聊天。 路边咖啡馆冒出蒸汽。
This is a place seemingly at odds with the surrounding frenzied development of the Jiangbei New Area. There are no shining new apartment blocks here. Instead, small alleyways run off each other, tight clusters of old brick buildings, doorways open leading onto the street. Typically, they have few windows and at a glance the interiors look impossibly dark.
这个地方似乎与江北新区周围疯狂的发展相悖。 这里没有闪亮的新公寓楼。 相反，小巷子相互分开，紧密的旧砖房，通往街道的大门敞开。 通常，它们的窗户很少，乍一看，内部看起来非常黑暗。
Nearby a corner of the park, a quiet noodle shop with a few old residents occupying stools. Bowls of fragrant spiced chicken broth. 2 pm, the boss catches a break at the rear of his shop, sitting down with a bottle of beer.
在公园的一角附近，有一家安静的面馆，有几个老居民坐在凳子上。 一碗香喷喷的鸡汤。下午2点，老板在商店后面休息，喝著一瓶啤酒坐下。
It would not take much of a stretch of the imagination to suggest that this area and its residents have been forgotten by the rest of the city. However, this was once the hub not only of Pukou, but of the whole city of Nanjing; the old Nanjing North Station which lies in the centre of the area formed the main arterial link to northern China.
不用花太多时间想象，就会表明这个地区及其居民已经被城市其他地区遗忘了。 然而，这里曾经不仅是浦口的枢纽，也是整个南京市的枢纽；位于该地区中心的旧南京北站构成了通往中国北部的主要干线。
At a small shop that backed onto the station, I paused a moment. Being early afternoon, the “laoban” (boss) reclined in a chair, a dog curled on the seat beside her. Stating the obvious, I remarked that the area seemed to have a lot of history. “Of course it does,” she quipped back quickly, “but the houses here are just old and badly built.” She had lived in this corner of Pukou all her life, “The train used to go from the North Station here to Beijing, Lanzhou, into Sichuan; 40 years ago this was a lively place”.
在一家倒车站的小商店里，我停顿了一会儿。 下午早些时候，“laoban”（老板）靠在椅子上，一只狗蜷缩在她旁边的座位上。 说得很清楚，我评论说，这个地区似乎有很多历史。 “当然是这样，”她迅速地反驳道，“但这里的房子很旧，建得很差。” 她一生都住在普口的这个角落，“火车曾经从这里的北站到北京、兰州、四川；40年前，这是一个热闹的地方”。
Before the opening of China’s first train ferry service in 1933, all arriving passengers from the north and west had to disembark in Pukou, from here ferrying across the Yangtze from the Pukou Ferry (still in operation today) to continue their journey. Famously, Sun Yat Sen’s remains arrived here from Beijing, crossed the Yangtze from the ferry, were carried up the specially constructed Zhongshan Lu and finally interred in his mausoleum at Zhongshan Ling.
在1933年中国第一艘火车渡轮服务开通之前，所有从北方和西方抵达的乘客都不得不在普口下船，从这里乘坐普口渡轮（至今仍在运营）横渡长江继续他们的旅程。 众所周知，孙中山的遗体从北京到达这里，从渡轮上穿越长江，被运上专门建造的中山路，最后埋葬在他在中山岭的陵墓中。
Built around 1912 just after Sun Yat Sen’s presidential inauguration, now the station lies largely disused other than the occasional freight train. Its faded façade shows signs of age, but the European style design typical of Republican-era China still draws those eager for a picture.
建于1912年左右，就在孙中山总统就职典礼之后，除了偶尔的货运列车外，该车站基本上已经废弃了。 它褪色的立面显示出老化的迹象，但共和时代中国典型的欧式风格设计仍然吸引着那些渴望拍照的人。
A popular place for wedding shoots, there have even been Republican-era dramas shot here. Stopping in front of the old station entrance to take a picture, a woman driving a small red panelled tricycle drew up in front of me. She gesticulated to a small photo album, displaying pictures of foreign visitors she had taken “behind the scenes” onto the tracks and the old railway bridge of the station. “This bridge was built by the British”, she said, also thrusting a crumpled sheet of paper before me. On it was the short essay, “My Father’s Back” written in 1925 by renown poet, Zhu Ziqing, which describes a moment of parting from his father at the station, a view of his father’s back as he struggles to climb up from the tracks on the other side of the station brings tears to the young narrator’s eyes.
这里是拍摄婚礼的热门场所，甚至曾在这里拍摄过共和党时代的电视剧。 在旧车站入口前停下来拍照，一个开着一辆红色镶板小三轮车的女人停在我面前。 她向一本小相册做了手勢，展示了她在轨道和车站的旧铁路桥上“幕后”拍摄的外国游客的照片。 “这座桥是英国人建造的，”她说，还把一张皺巴巴的纸推到我面前。 上面是著名诗人朱子清在1925年写的短文《我父亲的背》，它描述了在车站与父亲分开的时刻，当他挣扎着从车站另一边的铁轨上爬起来时，他父亲的背景让年轻的叙述者泪流满面。
I could relate to the author’s choice of setting. The area surrounding the station conjures a feeling of forlorn endurance, now imbued with a hint of romantic nostalgia for a time gone by. That afternoon as I sat on a nearby wall, a car pulled up, a family getting out with photographer in tow. Quickly arranging their equipment under the station arches, they clustered together, their child wrapped around and clinging to, one of the uprights. A few quick shots, 5 minutes and they were gone.
我可以与作者的设定选择产生共鸣。 车站周围的区域唤着一种无情的忍耐感，现在充满了对过去时光的浪漫怀念。 那天下午，當我坐在附近的牆上時，一輛汽車停了下來，一家人帶著攝影師出去了。 迅速将设备摆在车站拱门下，他们聚集在一起，他们的孩子缠绕着，紧紧抓住其中一个立柱。 几张快速镜头，5分钟后它们就消失了。
Whether those living here desire to follow them is difficult to know. From the way the woman at the shop talked, she clearly had a connection to the area. I wondered whether she wanted to remain here; “I’m not young, there’s no chance for me to move”. I left it at that.
很难知道住在这里的人是否愿意跟随他们。 从店里的女人说话的方式来看，她显然与这个地区有联系。 我想知道她是否想留在这里；“我不年轻了，我没有机会搬家。” 我把它留在了那里。
Leaving the station behind, further up the road, a railway crossing. Houses, well shaken by years of passing carriages, clustered either side of the tracks. The space between the tracks had been cultivated, with narrow lines of vegetables growing. Walking down the tracks I passed a woman bent low on a stool cleaning some roots. “Is this in use?”, I asked. “Trains have just stopped coming, you can walk here,” she replied.
离开车站，再往上走，一个铁路道口。 房屋被多年的过往马车所震撼，聚集在铁轨的两侧。 轨道之间的空间已经被耕种，生长着狭窄的蔬菜。 走在铁轨上，我经过了一个女人，她低着腰在凳子上清洗一些根。 “这个在用吗？”我问道。 “火车刚刚停了，你可以走到这里，”她回答道。
Farther along, a lake borders the track, with on its far side, a mass of houses all but slithering down the muddy bank to the waters’ edge. “Hello,” a call came from the tall grass nearby; a young man sprang up, beckoning me over. We chatted for a while as large fish leapt, splashing occasionally in the lake. He had lived near these tracks his whole life.
再往前走，一个湖与小路接壤，在小路的另一边，有一群房子从泥泞的河岸滑到水边。 “你好，”一个电话从附近的高草丛中打来；一个年轻人跳了过来，向我招手。 我们聊了一会儿，大鱼跳了起来，偶尔会在湖里嬉戏。 他一生都住在这些轨道附近。
A quiet lane ran parallel to the tracks, lined sporadically by low dwellings. Outside one, a table, objects arranged carelessly. “Will you have a drink?”, an old man in cammo jacket, poking his head out of the gloom pointed towards a hand painted sign advertising free, boiled water. “No matter, there are plenty of them”, he gestured to an array of rusting metal flasks stacked by the wall. The afternoon was hot, I drank from the flask, while he chattered, and we looked out over the railway. “When I was young, we used to jump onto the slow-moving trains here. We could hitch a ride down the tracks.” That was some 60 years ago, other than a near toothless grin he belied his age, eyes twinkling with good humour. Behind the house, diggers worked biting large chunks out of the ground, crawling mechanically over a dusty wasteland. “They’re building a subway through here”, he said.
一条安静的小巷与铁轨平行，零星地排列着低矮的住宅。 外面，一张桌子，物品漫不经心地排列着。 “你要喝一杯吗？”，一个穿着迷彩夹克的老人从阴霾中探出头来，指着一个手绘的免费开水牌。 “没关系，有很多，”他向堆在墙上的一系列生锈的金属烧瓶示意。 下午很热，我从烧瓶里喝水，而他喋喋不安，我们看着铁路。 「我年輕的時候，我們經常跳上這裡的慢速火車。 我们可以沿着铁轨搭便车。” 那是大约60年前的事了，除了他几乎无牙咧嘴的笑容，他用幽默的眼神闪烁着。 在房子后面，挖掘者从地上咬出大块，机械地在尘土飞扬的荒地上爬行。 他说：“他们正在通过这里建造一条地铁。”
More houses, down tight twisting alleys, tucked in the corner of an old courtyard a stone fist thrust upwards, a memorial to the soldiers of resistance to the Japanese. 5,000 Chinese troops had been captured here by the invaders, with only 800 surviving.
更多的房子，沿着狭窄的蜿蜒小巷，藏在一个旧庭院的角落里，一个石拳向上推，是抵抗日本士兵的纪念碑。 5000名中国军队在这里被入侵者俘虏，只有800人幸存下来。
Again, the road narrowed, two men loitered outside an open doorway, they seemed keen for a chat. They had both come from Anhui to work here in the Nanjing No.3 port company, which I had passed on my way. Living here together, saving money, one man told me he had just bought a flat for his daughter in Nanjing city. “There aren’t any young people around here”, he told me as his friend tended a makeshift stove. Today happened to be their last; with their company struggling financially, a small protest had taken place just up the road; two of the protesters had been taken off by the police. Now, they had chosen to look for other work elsewhere.
道路再次变窄，两个人在敞开的门口闲逛，他们似乎热衷于聊天。 他们都从安徽来到南京3号港口公司工作，我在路上路过。 一起住在这里，存钱，一个男人告诉我，他刚刚在南京市给他的女儿买了一套公寓。 他告訴我，他的朋友正在照料一個臨時的爐子，他告诉我。 今天恰好是他们的最后一次；由于他们的公司在财务上挣扎，路边发生了一场小型抗议活动；其中两名抗议者被警察带走了。 现在，他们选择了在其他地方寻找其他工作。
Back near the park, a street with students being collected from school. As I passed, the marble name plague on the school gate gleamed, Nanjing Jiang Bei New Area Primary School, it had been Pukou Railway Primary only a week before. Half in, half out of a shuttered building, a husband and wife worked busily, her rolling dough, him sticking flat, oval rounds to the inside of a metal drum. A young couple stood with me waiting for the “Shaobing” to cook. From the Pukou campus of Nanjing University some 10 km away, they had come to look around and take some pictures, before taking the ferry across the river. Despite living so close by, they deemed this an area to visit.
回到公园附近，一条有学生被学校接走的街道。 当我经过时，校门口的大理石名字瘟疫闪闪发光，南京江北新区小学，一周前是浦口铁路小学。 一半进，一半出百叶窗的大楼，一对夫妻在忙碌地工作，她的面团滚动，他粘扁，椭圆形的圆形放在金属鼓的内侧。 一对年輕夫婦和我站在一起等待「Shaobing」做飯。 从大约10公里外的南京大学普口校区出发，他们来四处看看，拍了一些照片，然后乘坐渡轮过河。 尽管住得这么近，但他们还是认为这是一个值得参观的地区。
With now the light fading and the road growing noisy with bikes disembarked from the matou, I turned for home. Just ten minutes ride away, but seemingly worlds apart.
现在光线逐渐变暗，道路越来越嘈杂，自行车从马图上下船，我转身回家了。 只有十分钟的车程，但似乎相距甚远。
One would think that the government approved creation of the Jiangbei New Area in 2015 sounded the death knell for an area such as this. Posters advertising new housing developments cling firmly to lamp posts. Many buildings lie derelict, seemingly awaiting their fate. Yet a community remains, caught between the railway tracks. The old station was added to the key cultural relics’ protection roster in 2013, securing its legacy. Indeed, the immediate station area looks to have been marked out for development, most of the buildings beside it unoccupied. Five minutes down the road and signs of construction/restoration fade. Still, the future for those living in the area would appear uncertain. With the ever-encroaching march of progression, new apartments rise up in the distance farther down the tracks. For many this seems an irresistible lure, a new modern life, while others, typically from the older generation, feel bound to a community that once in the not too distant past was a thriving centre.
人们会认为，政府在2015年批准创建江北新区，为这样的地区敲响了丧钟。 宣传新住房开发的海报紧紧抓住灯柱。 许多建筑被遗弃，似乎在等待它们的命运。 然而，一个社区仍然被夹在铁轨之间。 2013年，旧车站被添加到关键文物保护名册中，确保了其遗产。 事实上，车站附近的区域似乎已被标记为开发，旁边的大多数建筑都无人居住。 在路上走了五分钟，施工/修復的迹象就消失了。 尽管如此，生活在该地区的人的未来似乎还是不确定的。 隨著不斷推進的步伐，新公寓在更遠處的軌道上升起。 對許多人來說，這似乎是一種不可抗拒的誘惑，新的現代生活，而其他人，通常來自老一輩，感到被一個社群所束縛，這個社群在不遠的過去曾經是一個繁榮的中心。
As little more than a passer by, it is difficult not to view this unique and ancient corner of Nanjing through a nostalgic lens. There still appears to be a strong sense of community, but ultimately many people yearn for a different life. Who knows how long they shall have to wait?
只是路人而已，很难不通过怀旧的镜头来看待南京这个独特而古老的角落。 似乎仍然有强烈的社区意识，但最终许多人渴望不同的生活。 誰知道他們要等多久？
For the visitor the area around Pukou park and the old North Station provides a fascinating insight into a now seldom seen way of Nanjing life. Here the bright lights of Xinjiekou could not feel farther away. Those wanting to visit should do so sooner rather than later.
对于游客来说，普口公园和旧北站周围的地区提供了对现在很少见的南京生活方式的迷人见解。 在这里，新街口明亮的灯光再远不到了。 那些想参观的人应该尽早去。
Take the ferry from the end of Zhongshan Bei Lu (¥1, but better to double the fare and take a bike with you), retrace the route of so many past Nanjing travellers and in 15 minutes, find yourself in a different world, one between the railway tracks.
从中山北路的尽头乘坐渡轮（1元，但最好加倍票价，带上自行车），追溯许多经过南京旅客的路线，在15分钟内，发现自己身于一个不同的世界，一个在铁轨之间。
