英譯現(xiàn)代散文●一只木屐 ◎ 冰心

一只木屐

AWooden Clog

◎　冰心

◎　Bing Xin

淡金色的夕陽(yáng)，像這條輪船一樣，懶洋洋地停在這一塊長(zhǎng)方形的海水上。兩邊碼頭上倉(cāng)庫(kù)的灰色大門，已經(jīng)緊緊地關(guān)起了。一下午的嘈雜的人聲，已經(jīng)寂靜了下來(lái)，只有乍起的晚風(fēng)，在吹卷著碼頭上零亂的草繩和塵土。

The light gold setting sun, like our steamer, was lingering sluggishly in the harbor. The grey gates of the warehouses on either side of the harbor were securely shut. The afternoon hubbub of voices had died down and fitful gusts of evening wind would rise to send the messy piles of straw ropes and dust whirling from the wharves.

我默默地倚伏在船欄上，周圍是一片的空虛——沉重，時(shí)間一分一分地過(guò)去，蒼茫的夜色，籠蓋了下來(lái)。

Silently leaning on the ship railing, I found myself surrounded by an endless dull void. Time was ticking away minute by minute and darkness was gathering around me.

猛抬頭，我看見(jiàn)在離船不遠(yuǎn)的水面上，飄著一只木屐，它已被海水泡成黑褐色的了。它在搖動(dòng)的波浪上，搖著、搖著，慢慢地往外移，仿佛要努力地?fù)u到外面大海上去似的!

Raising my head abruptly, I saw a wooden clog floating on the water not far from my ship. It had turned a dark brown after being soaked in water and kept moving slowly with the rolling waves as if it were laboring out of the harbor toward the vast sea.

啊!我苦難中的朋友!你怎么知道我要悄悄地離開(kāi)?你又怎么知道我心里丟不下那些把你穿在腳下的朋友?你從岸上跳進(jìn)海中，萬(wàn)里迢迢地在船邊護(hù)送著我?

O my friend in distress! How did you know that I was leaving on the quiet? How did you know that I was reluctant to part with my friends — friends that had once worn you on their feet? O now you had leaped into the water to escort me through the long voyage?

過(guò)去幾年的、在東京的苦悶不眠的夜晚——相伴我的只有瓦檐上的雨聲，紙窗外的月色，更多的是空虛——沉重的、黑黝黝的長(zhǎng)夜;而每一個(gè)不眠的夜晚，我都聽(tīng)到嘎達(dá)嘎達(dá)的木屐聲音，一陣一陣的從我樓前走過(guò)。這聲音，踏在石子路上，清空而又堅(jiān)實(shí);它不像我從前聽(tīng)過(guò)的、引人憎恨的、北京東單操場(chǎng)上日本軍官的軍靴聲，也不像北京飯店的大廳上日本官員、紳士的皮鞋聲。這是日本勞動(dòng)人民的、風(fēng)里雨里寸步不離的、清空而又堅(jiān)實(shí)的木屐的聲音……

For several years previously, on those dull, black long nights, as I lay awake with a gloomy feeling of emptiness, the only thing that would keep me company had been the raindrops pattering on the tiled roof and the moonlight outside the paper windows. I would hear on every sleepless night wooden clogs clattering past the cobbled road before my building, sounding clear and firm. It was unlike the hateful thudding of Japanese officers' military boots I had once heard on the Dongdan drill ground in Peking. It was also unlike the clip-clop of leather shoes on the feet of Japanese officials and VIPs in the lobby of Peking Hotel. It was the clear and firm sound of wooden clogs worn by the working people of Japan, rain or shine.

我把雙手交叉起，枕在腦后，隨著一陣一陣的屐聲，在想象中從穿著木屐的雙腳，慢慢地向上看，我看到悲哀憔悴的穿著外褂、套著白罩衣的老人、老婦的臉;我看到痛苦憤怒的穿著工褲、披著蓑衣的工人、農(nóng)民的臉;我看到憂郁彷徨的戴著四角帽、穿著短裙的青年、少女的臉……這些臉，都是我白天在街頭巷尾不斷看到的，這時(shí)都匯合了起來(lái)，從我樓前嘎達(dá)嘎達(dá)地走過(guò)。

Resting my head on my clasped hands, I visualized, in the midst of the clatters, all those in wooden clogs: sad and haggard elderly men and women wearing short garments under white overalls; aggrieved workers in overalls and peasants in straw rain capes; young men in college caps and young women in short skirts, all looking dejected and perplexed … I had often come across them here and there in town in the daytime. Now they seemed to merge together clattering past my building.

“苦難中的朋友!在這黑黝黝的長(zhǎng)夜，希望在哪里?你們這樣嘎達(dá)嘎達(dá)地往哪里走呢?”在失眠的輾轉(zhuǎn)反側(cè)之中，我總是這樣痛苦地想。

“My friends in distress! Where is your hope in this dark long night? Where are you bound for in your clattering clogs?”That was the thought in my gloomy mind as I lay wide awake, tossing and turning restlessly.

事情過(guò)去十多年了，但是我還常常想起那日那時(shí)日本橫濱碼頭旁邊水上的那只木屐。對(duì)于我，它象征著日本勞動(dòng)人民，也使我回憶起那幾年居留日本的一段生活，引起我許多復(fù)雜的情感。

All that happened over a decade ago, but I always think of the wooden clog floating on water near the Yokohama wharf. To me, it symbolizes the working people of Japan. It also reminds me of my several years' sojourn in Japan and arouses a host of complicated feelings in me.

從那日那時(shí)離開(kāi)日本后，我又去過(guò)兩次。這時(shí)候，日本人民不但是我的苦難中的朋友，也是我的斗爭(zhēng)中的朋友了。但是，當(dāng)同去的人們，珍重地帶回了些與富士山或櫻花有關(guān)的紀(jì)念品的時(shí)候，我卻收集一些小小的、引人眷戀的玩具木屐……

I have since twice re-visited Japan. I realized on both occasions that the Japanese people are not only my friends in distress, but also my comrades-in-arms. While my co-travelers brought back treasured souvenirs of Mount Fuji or cherry blossoms, I came home with a collection of small, nostalgic toy clogs …

冰心曾于1946年?yáng)|渡日本，旅居該國(guó)約四年?！兑恢荒惧臁肥撬貒?guó)十多年后寫(xiě)的一篇短文，追憶當(dāng)年離別日本時(shí)凄婉動(dòng)人的情景。一只木屐勾起作者一腔離愁別緒。離別木屐就是離別作者戰(zhàn)后在日本所結(jié)交的苦難中的朋友。他們是老百姓，不是那些引人憎恨的舊軍官、官員、紳士。此文英譯時(shí)略有刪節(jié)。