作者：朱虞夫
编辑：李聪玲 校对：程筱筱 翻译：戈冰
力虹走了。山河肃穆，神人同悲，江海鸣喑，大地缟素。
力虹走了，中华顿失英才。我们再也看不到你那刺暴刺孽的健笔奋飞；我们再也听不到你那嬉笑怒骂的口才横溢。剑指邪恶，怜悯贫弱，你那无法掩饰的激情何等可贵：歌颂光明，向往民主，你那烈火一般的追求何等强烈。“一寸自由一寸血”，你身体力行：凭你的才华，你可以“精英”、可以“小资”、可以“中产”，但是，你选择了一条荆棘之路；凭你的努力，你可以“攀升”、可以“高就”、可以“权贵”，但是，你选择了一个追梦之旅。鸣呼力虹！舍家抛雏，你匹马冲阵，民族以君为脊梁，捐一腔之热血，消堂堂中国空无人之讥：身陷黑狱，仍不屈不挠，恶警视你成畏途，以一己之被害，除茫茫神州皆铜臭之诮。
呜呼力虹，“我在西湖畔，君羁临平山”，你写给我的手泽犹存，如今竟天人永隔。手奉宝函，感慨万千，字里行间你那乐观的情绪溢于言表。追忆当年，我虽然身羁二监，却知道你在青春监狱医院身受严酷迫害，当局并不提供对你的任何治疗，当严正学转来那里，你幸遇知己而与之倾谈，感到莫大愉悦时，当局立即将你们隔离。可是他们无法改变你的心境，虽然你看不到西湖，但你的心里装着西湖之美，而且比西湖更美上千万倍。虽然他们剥夺了你与亲友的交往，但是你的精神世界依然丰富而踏实，你在深心依然与大家不断地神交。狱友转告我，你并不在意自己的臭皮囊而宁愿活在历史中，于是我知道，你已经选择了不朽。我知道，你的心境是平和的，平静如爱琴海的波底；你的心境是澄澈的，澄澈如海天一色。
你的家人无法接受这样的现状：一个好端端的人被抓走了，居然在非人对待的看守所仅仅二个多月就被折腾罹患了如此不治的绝症。你柔弱善良的夫人每个月面对病情不断加重的你，忧心如焚。于是她一次又一次地向当局申请为你办理保外就医，可是每次都是石沉大海。她不知道的是，当局何等的怕你，他们怕你的嘴会说，他们怕你的手会写，他们怕你的人格感召力会唤醒越来越多的人的良知，他们决意要将你的肉体虐杀。
呜呼力虹，当你奄奄一息时，监狱将你丢给你的家人，你在重症监护室走完了人生的最后阶段。那天我去看你，你骨瘦如柴，气若游丝。我俯身向你，轻轻地说：“力虹，我是朱虞夫，我来看看你。”你无神的眼睛顿时闪烁光彩，你使劲地点点头—虽然只是微弱的动作，我看到了你对战友的深情厚谊。哦，力虹，为了把宝贵的探视时间留给你的夫人和姐姐，我匆匆地走开了，可是我一直站在你的附近，看着你，看着你的家人忙碌地为你擦身、按摩、换衣，我满噙热泪：我知道，你的来日不多，我赶快偷偷地拍了几张照片作为永久的纪念。
呜呼力虹，此刻，正如你在诗作《大地》中所说的，你在“感受土壤中的气息，聆听大地深处春天迅猛来临的呼啸”。我们与你同感。此刻，我面对你的遗像，胸臆充满勃郁之气：你那能洞穿灵魂的明眸在诉说你的期待，期待我们继承你的未竟之业；你那紧抿的嘴唇在递送着你的坚毅，告诉我们民主之路仍充满艰辛。你是自信的，坚信民主中国一定会来到；你是乐观的，相信这一天已经不会太远。今天，我们在你面前审视我们自己，面对你的勤奋，我们做的还远远不够；面对你的付出，我们有什么不能舍弃？力虹，你的精神不死，你的道德感召力依然存在，我们会在你的精神激励下更加团结，更加努力，以告慰你，告慰林昭、遇罗克，告慰一切为中国的民主事业捐躯的先烈。力虹，你安息吧！
哀哉力虹，壮哉力虹。
生为豪杰，死为鬼雄。
磨而不磷，泰岳高耸。
椽笔如刀，世人赞颂。
华夏壮丽，赖有诸公。
我辈谨记，圭臬是奉。
春天不远，岂畏严冬。
千秋万代，气贯长虹！
2011年元月7日（力虹头七）
In Memory of Lihong
Abstract: Zhu Yufu mourns Mr. Lihong’s life and spirit, recalls his unyielding and martyrdom in prison, praises his democratic ideals and personality, and inspires future generations to inherit his unfinished aspirations.
Author: Zhu Yufu
Editor: Li Congling Proofreader: Cheng Xiaoxiao
Lihong has left us. The mountains and rivers are solemn, the gods and men are sad, the rivers and seas are silent, and the earth is white.
With Lihong’s departure, China has lost a great talent. We will never see your sharp and vigorous pen fly again; we will never hear your eloquence of laughter and anger again. The sword points to evil, pity the poor and weak, how precious is your undisguised passion: singing the light, longing for democracy, how strong is your fiery pursuit. “One inch of freedom, one inch of blood,” you practiced: with your talent, you could be “elite,” “petty bourgeois,” or “middle class,” but you chose a thorny path; with your efforts, you could “climb up,” “rise high,” and “be powerful,” but you chose a journey to pursue your dreams. Hail Lihong! You left your home and your family, and you rode into battle. The nation took you as its backbone, and you donated your blood to dispel the reproach of China. You were imprisoned in a black prison, but you were still unyielding. The evil police saw you as a deterrent, and you were killed for your own sake, and you were rid of the stench of copper in the vast land of China.
Alas, Li Hong, “I am on the shore of the West Lake, you are imprisoned in Linping Mountain.” The handwriting you wrote to me still remains, but now we are forever separated. I received your precious letter, and your optimism overflowed between the lines. Recalling that year, although I was in prison, I knew that you were severely persecuted in the Youth Prison Hospital. The authorities did not provide any treatment for you. When Yan Zhengxue was transferred there, you were fortunate to meet and talk to him. When you felt great joy, the authorities immediately isolated you. But they could not change your state of mind. Although you could not see the West Lake, your heart was filled with the beauty of the West Lake, and it was ten million times more beautiful than the West Lake. Although they deprived you of your family and friends, your spiritual world is still rich and solid, and you are still in deep communion with everyone. My fellow prisoners told me that you don’t care about your own skin and would rather live in history, so I know that you have chosen immortality. I know that your heart is peaceful, as calm as the bottom of the Aegean Sea; your heart is clear, as clear as the sea and the sky.
Your family cannot accept this situation: a good person was arrested and tortured in an inhuman detention center for just over two months, suffering from such an incurable disease. Your gentle and kind wife is worried about you every month as your condition continues to worsen. So she applied to the authorities again and again to arrange for you to be released on medical parole, but every time it was like a stone sinking into the sea. What she did not know was that the authorities were afraid of you. They were afraid that your mouth would speak, they were afraid that your hand would write, they were afraid that your personality would awaken the conscience of more and more people, and they were determined to torture and kill your body.
Alas, Lihong, when you were dying, the prison threw you to your family, and you finished the last stage of your life in the intensive care unit. I went to see you that day. You were as thin as a rake, and your breath was like a thread. I leaned over to you and said softly, “Lihong, I am Zhu Yufu, I came to see you.”Your lifeless eyes suddenly flashed with brilliance, and you nodded vigorously — although it was only a weak movement, I saw your deep affection for your comrades. Oh, Lihong, in order to leave the precious visiting time to your wife and sister, I hurriedly walked away, but I kept standing near you, watching you, watching your family busy wiping you, massaging you, changing your clothes. I was full of tears: I knew that you did not have many days left, so I quickly and secretly took a few photos as a permanent memory.
Alas, Lihong, at this moment, as you said in the poem “Earth”, you are “feeling the breath in the soil, listening to the roar of the rapid arrival of spring in the depths of the earth.” We feel the same way. At this moment, I face your portrait, my chest full of vigor: your soul-piercing eyes speak of your expectations, looking forward to our inheritance of your unfinished business; your tight lips are delivering your perseverance, telling us that the road to democracy is still full of hardships. You were confident, firmly believing that a democratic China would come; you were optimistic, believing that this day would not be too far away. Today, we examine ourselves before you. In the face of your diligence, we have done far less than we should; in the face of your sacrifice, what can we not give up? Lihong, your spirit is not dead, your moral appeal still exists. We will be more united and work harder under your spiritual inspiration to comfort you, to comfort Lin Zhao, Yu Luoke, and to comfort all the martyrs who sacrificed their lives for the cause of democracy in China. Li Hong, rest in peace!
Alas, Li Hong, how magnificent you were.
Live as a champion among men, die as a lord among spirits.
Though tempered, their luster never fades, standing as lofty as Mount Tai.
Their mighty pens cut like blades, earning the praise of all.
China’s splendor endures because of such men.
We hold fast to their example as our compass.
With spring drawing near, why should we dread the winter cold?
Through endless ages,his spirit spans the heavens in glory.
January 7, 2011 (the first seventh day after Lihong’s departure from this world)
