芒果街上的小屋头发

头发

　　我们家里每个人的头发都不一样。爸爸的头发像扫把，根根直立往上插。而我，我的头发挺懒惰。它从来不听发夹和发带的话。卡洛斯的头发又直又厚。他不用梳头。蕾妮的头发滑滑的——会从你手里溜走。还有奇奇，他最小，茸茸的头发像毛皮。

　　只有妈妈的头发，妈妈的头发，好像一朵朵小小的玫瑰花结，一枚枚小小的糖果圈儿，全都那么拳曲，那么漂亮，因为她成天给它们上发卷。把鼻子伸进去闻一闻吧，当她搂着你时。当她搂着你时，你觉得那么安全，闻到的气味又那么香甜。是那种待烤的面包暖暖的香味，是那种她给你让出一角被窝时，和着体温散发的芬芳。你睡在她身旁，外面下着雨，爸爸打着鼾。哦，鼾声、雨声，还有妈妈那闻起来像面包的头发。

　　Everybody in our family has different hair. My Papa's hair is like a broom, all up in the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos' hair is thid straight. He doesn't o b it. Nenny's hair is slippery——slides out of your hand. And Kiki, who is the you, has hair like fur.

　　But my mother's hair, my mother's hair, like little rosettes, like little dy circles all curly and pretty because she pi in pincurls all day, sweet to put your o when she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe, is the warm smell of bread before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bed still warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring. The snoring, the rain, and Mama's hair that smells like bread.

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