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我至今还常常想起我们的周总理。有时,在梦中见到他,总还是康健蓬勃一如从前的样子;梦醒了,又不能不想到他清癯憔悴的晚年的音容。从此便再也睡不着:是想到他从前对我们的关怀,还是想到他含恨的逝去,说不清楚。泪,反正是流在自己的枕头上,有时且忍不住地泣出声来。是他一味地喜爱、夸奖我们吗?不,他有时很严厉地批评我们;是他视我们为始终改造不好的大大小小的一群异类吗?不,他视我们如他的晚辈亲人,真心地爱护着我们。这里,我说一件他批评我的事,使我终生不忘——那是在1961年。演《雷雨》,他是几次看过了的。有一晚,他又
I still often think of our Premier Zhou. At times, seeing him in a dream is always as energetic as ever before; when he woke up, he could not help but think of the sound of his feeble old age. From then on can no longer sleep: Is it remembered his care for us before, or think of his hate passing away, can not say. Tears, anyway, is flowing in their own pillows, and sometimes can not help crying out loud. Is he blindly loved and praised us? No, sometimes he harshly criticized us; he regarded us as a heterogeneous group of big and small who always transformed badly? No, he treated us as his relatives, Love care for us. Here, I say one thing he criticized me, so I never forget - it was in 1961. Play “Thunderstorm”, he has seen several times. One night, he again