雙語全文 ● 魯迅——故鄉(xiāng)

My Old Home

 

Braving the bitter cold， I travelled more than two thousand li back to the old home I had left over twenty years ago.

 

It was late winter. As we drew near my former home the day became overcast and a cold wind blew into the cabin of our boat， while all one could see through the chinks in our bamboo awning were a few desolate villages，void of any sign of life， scattered far and near under the sombre yellow sky. I could not help feeling depressed.

 

Ah！ Surely this was not the old home I had been remembering for the past twenty years？

 

The old home I remembered was not in the least like this. My old home was much better. But if you asked me to recall its peculiar charm or describe its beauties， I had no clear impression， no words to describe it. And now it seemed this was all there was to it. Then I rationalized the matter to myself，saying： Home was always like this， and although it had not improved， still it is not so depressing as I imagine； it is only my mood that has changed， be­cause I am coming back to the country this time with no illusions.

 

This time I had come with the sole object of saying goodbye. The old house our clan had lived in for so many years had already been sold to an­other family， and was to change hands before the end of the year. I had to hurry there before New Year’s Day to say goodbye for ever to the familiar old house， and to move my family to another place where I was working， far from my old home town.

 

At dawn on the second day I reached the gateway of my home. Broken stems of withered grass on the roof， trembling in the wind， made very clear the reason why this old house could not avoid changing hands. Several branches of our clan had probably already moved away， so it was unusually quiet. By the time I reached the house my mother was already at the door to welcome me， and my eight-year-old nephew， Hong’er rushed out after her.

 

故鄉(xiāng)

 

我冒了嚴寒，回到相隔二千余里，別了二十余年的故鄉(xiāng)去。

 

時候既然是深冬；漸近故鄉(xiāng)時，天氣又陰晦了，冷風吹進船艙中，嗚嗚的響，從篷隙向外一望，蒼黃的天底下，遠近橫著幾個蕭索的荒村，沒有一些活氣。我的心禁不住悲涼起來了。

 

阿！這不是我二十年來時時記得的故鄉(xiāng)？

 

我所記得的故鄉(xiāng)全不如此。我的故鄉(xiāng)好得多了。但要我記起他的美麗，說出他的佳處來，卻又沒有影像，沒有言辭了。仿佛也就如此。于是我自己解釋說：故鄉(xiāng)本也如此，——雖然沒有進步，也未必有如我所感的悲涼，這只是我自己心情的改變罷了，因為我這次回鄉(xiāng)，本沒有什么好心緒。

 

我這次是專為了別他而來的。我們多年聚族而居的老屋，已經(jīng)公同賣給別姓了，交屋的期限，只在本年，所以必須趕在正月初一以前，永別了熟識的老屋，而且遠離了熟識的故鄉(xiāng)，搬家到我在謀食的異地去。

 

第二日清早晨我到了我家的門口了。瓦楞上許多枯草的斷莖當風抖著，正在說明這老屋難免易主的原因。幾房的本家大約已經(jīng)搬走了，所以很寂靜。我到了自家的房外，我的母親早已迎著出來了，接著便飛出了八歲的侄兒宏兒。

 

Though Mother was delighted， she was also trying to hide a certain feeling of sadness. She told me to sit down and rest and have some tea， let­ting the removal wait for the time being. Hong’er， who had never seen me before， stood watching me at a distance.

 

But finally we had to talk about the removal. I said that rooms had al­ready been rented elsewhere， and I had bought a little furniture； in addition it would be necessary to sell all the furniture in the house in order to buy more things. Mother agreed， saying that the luggage was nearly all packed，and about half the furniture that could not be easily moved had already been sold. Only it was difficult to get people to pay up.

 

“You can rest for a day or two， and call on our relatives， and then we can go， ” said Mother.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then there is Runtu. Each time he comes here he always asks after you， and wants very much to see you again. I told him the probable date of your return home， and he may be coming any time.”

 

At this point a strange picture suddenly flashed into my mind： a golden moon suspended in a deep blue sky and beneath it the seashore， planted as far as the eye could see with jadegreen watermelons， while in their midst a boy of eleven or twelve， wearing a silver necklet and grasping a steel pitch­fork in his hand， was thrusting with all his might at a zha which dodged the blow and escaped through his legs.

 

This boy was Runtu. When I first met him he was little more than ten—that was thirty years ago， and at that time my father was still alive and the family well off， so I was really a spoilt child. That year it was our family’s turn to take charge of a big ancestral sacrifice， which came round only once in thirty years， and hence was an important one. In the first month the an­cestral images were presented and offerings made， and since the sacrificial vessels were very fine and there was such a crowd of worshippers， it was necessary to guard against theft. Our family had only one part-time servant.（In our district we divide servants into three classes： those who work all the year for one family are called full-timers； those who are hired by the day are called dailies； and those who farm their own land and only work for one family at New Year， during festivals or when rents are being collected are called part-timers.） And since there was so much to be done， he told my fa­ther that he would send for his son Runtu to look after the sacrificial vessels.

 

我的母親很高興，但也藏著許多凄涼的神情，教我坐下，歇息，喝茶，且不談搬家的事。宏兒沒有見過我，遠遠的對面站著只是看。

 

但我們終于談到搬家的事。我說外間的寓所已經(jīng)租定了，又買了幾件家具，此外須將家里所有的木器賣去，再去增添。母親也說好，而且行李也略已齊集，木器不便搬運的，也小半賣去了，只是收不起錢來。

 

“你休息一兩天，去拜望親戚本家一回，我們便可以走了。”母親說。

 

“是的。”

 

“還有閏土，他每到我家來時，總問起你，很想見你一回面。我已經(jīng)將你到家的大約日期通知他，他也許就要來了。”

 

這時候，我的腦里忽然閃出一幅神異的圖畫來：深藍的天空中掛著一輪金黃的圓月，下面是海邊的沙地，都種著一望無際的碧綠的西瓜，其間有一個十一二歲的少年，項帶銀圈，手捏一柄鋼叉，向一匹猹盡力的刺去，那猹卻將身一扭，反從他的胯下逃走了。

 

這少年便是閏土。我認識他時，也不過十多歲，離現(xiàn)在將有三十年了；那時我的父親還在世，家景也好，我正是一個少爺。那一年，我家是一件大祭祀的值年。這祭祀，說是三十多年才能輪到一回，所以很鄭重；正月里供祖像，供品很多，祭器很講究，拜的人也很多，祭器也很要防偷去。我家只有一個忙月（我們這里給人做工的分三種：整年給一定人家做工的叫長年；按日給人做工的叫短工；自己也種地，只在過年過節(jié)以及收租時候來給一定的人家做工的稱忙月），忙不過來，他便對父親說，可以叫他的兒子閏土來管祭器的。

 

When my father gave his consent I was overjoyed， because I had long since heard of Runtu and knew that he was about my own age， born in the intercalary month， and when his horoscope was told it was found that of the five elements that of earth was lacking， so his father called him Runtu （Inter­calary Earth）. He could set traps and catch small birds.

 

I looked forward every day to New Year， for New Year would bring Runtu. At last the end of the year came， and one day Mother told me that Runtu had come， and I flew to see him. He was standing in the kitchen. He had a round， crimson face and wore a small felt cap on his head and a gleaming silver necklet on his neck， showing that his father doted on him and， fearing he might die， had made a pledge with the gods and Buddhas，using the necklet as a talisman. He was very shy， and I was the only person he was not afraid of. When there was no one else there， he would talk with me， so in a few hours we were fast friends.

 

I don’t know what we talked of then， but I remember that Runtu was in high spirits， saying that since he had come to town he had seen many new things.

 

The next day I wanted him to catch birds.

 

“Can’t be done，” he said. “It’s only possible after a heavy snowfall. On our sands， after it snows， I sweep clear a patch of ground， prop up a big threshing basket with a short stick， and scatter husks of grain beneath； then when I see the birds coming to eat， from a distance I give a tug to the string tied to the stick， and the birds are caught in the basket. There are all kinds：wild pheasants， woodcocks， woodpigeons， bluebacks.... ”

 

Accordingly I looked forward very eagerly to snow.

 

“Just now it is too cold，” said Runtu another time， “but you must come to our place in summer. In the daytime we will go to the seashore to look for shells， there are green ones and red ones， besides ‘scare-devil’ shells and‘ Buddha’s hands. ’ In the evening when Dad and I go to see to the water­melons， you shall come too.”

 

我的父親允許了；我也很高興，因為我早聽到閏土這名字，而且知道他和我仿佛年紀，閏月生的，五行缺土，所以他的父親叫他閏土。他是能裝弶捉小鳥雀的。

 

我于是日日盼望新年，新年到，閏土也就到了。好容易到了年末，有一日，母親告訴我，閏土來了，我便飛跑的去看。他正在廚房里，紫色的圓臉，頭戴一頂小氈帽，頊上套一個明晃晃的銀項圈，這可見他的父親十分愛他，怕他死去，所以在神佛面前許下愿心，用圈子將他套住了。他見人很怕羞，只是不怕我，沒有旁人的時候，便和我說話，于是不到半日，我們便熟識了。

 

我們那時候不知道談些什么，只記得閏土很高興，說是上城之后，見了許多沒有見過的東西。

 

第二日，我便要他捕鳥。他說：

 

“這不能。須大雪下了才好。我們沙地上，下了雪，我掃出一塊空地來，用短棒支起一個大竹匾，撒下秕谷，看鳥雀來吃時，我遠遠地將縛在棒上的繩子只一拉，那鳥雀就罩在竹匾下了。什么都有：稻雞，角雞，鵓鴣，藍背……”

 

我于是又很盼望下雪。

 

閏土又對我說：

 

“現(xiàn)在太冷，你夏天到我們這里來。我們?nèi)绽锏胶＿厵z貝殼去，紅的綠的都有，鬼見怕也有，觀音手也有。晚上我和爹管西瓜去，你也去。”

 

“Is it to look out for thieves？”

 

“No. If passers-by are thirsty and pick a watermelon， folk down our way don’t consider it as stealing. What we have to look out for are stoat，hedgehogs and zha. When you hear a crunching sound under the moonlight，made by the zha when it bites the melons， then you take your pitchfork and creep stealthily over... ”

 

I had no idea then what this thing called zha was—and I am not much clearer now， for that matter—but somehow I felt it was something like a small dog， and very fierce.

 

“Don’t they bite people？”

 

“You have a pitchfork. You go across， and when you see it you strike. It’s a very cunning creature and will rush towards you and get away be­tween you legs. Its fur is as slippery as oil... ”

 

I had never known that all these strange things existed： at the seashore were shells all the colours of the rainbow； watermelons had such a danger­ous history， yet all I had known of them before was that they were sold in the greengrocer’s.

 

“On our shore， when the tide comes in， there are lots of jumping fish，each with two legs like a frog.....”

 

Runtu’s mind was a treasure-house of such strange lore， all of it outside the ken of my former friends. They were ignorant of all these things and，while Runtu lived by the sea， they like me could see only the four corners of the sky above the high courtyard wall.

 

Unfortunately， a month after New Year Runtu had to go home. I burst into tears and he took refuge in the kitchen， crying and refusing to come out，until finally he was carried off by his father. Later he sent me by his father a packet of shells and a few very beautiful feathers， and I sent him presents once or twice， but we never saw each other again.

 

Now that my mother mentioned him， this childhood memory sprang into life like a flash of lightning， and I seemed to see my beautiful old home. So I answered：

 

“管賊么？”

 

“不是。走路的人口渴了摘一個瓜吃，我們這里是不算偷的。要管的是獾，剌猬，猹。月亮地下，你聽，啦啦的響了，猹在咬瓜了。你便捏了胡叉，輕輕地走去……”

 

我那里并不知道這所謂猹的是怎么一件東西——便是現(xiàn)在也沒有知道——只是無端的覺得狀如小狗而很兇猛。

 

“他不咬人么？”

 

“有胡叉呢。走到了，看見猹了，你便剌。這畜生很伶俐，倒向你奔來，反從胯下竄了。他的皮毛是油一般的滑……”

 

我素不知道天下有這許多新鮮事：海邊有如許五色的貝殼；西瓜有這樣危險的經(jīng)歷，我先前單知道他在水果店里出賣罷了。

 

“我們沙地里，潮汛要來的時候，就有許多跳魚兒只是跳，都有青蛙似的兩個腳……”

 

阿！閏土的心里有無窮無盡的希奇的事，都是我往常的朋友所不知道的。他們不知道一些事，閏土在海邊時，他們都和我一樣只看見院子里高墻上的四角的天空。

 

可惜正月過去了，閏土須回家里去，我急得大哭，他也躲到廚房里，哭著不肯出門，但終于被他父親帶走了。他后來還托他的父親帶給我一包貝殼和幾支很好看的鳥毛，我也曾送他一兩次東西，但從此沒有再見面。

 

現(xiàn)在我的母親提起了他，我這兒時的記憶，忽而全都閃電似的蘇生過來，似乎看到了我的美麗的故鄉(xiāng)了。我應(yīng)聲說：

 

“Fine！ And he—how is he？”

 

“He？... He’s not at all well off either，” said Mother. And then， looking out of the door： “Here come those people again. They say they want to buy our furniture； but actually they just want to see what they can pick up. I must go and watch them.”

 

Mother stood up and went out. Several women’s voices could be heard outside. I called Hong’er to me and started talking to him， asking him whether he could write， and whether he was glad to be leaving.

 

“Shall we be going by train？”

 

“Yes， we shall go by train.”

 

“And boat？”

 

“We shall take a boat first.”

 

“Oh！ Like this！ With such a long moustache！” A strange shrill voice sud­denly rang out.

 

I looked up with a start， and saw a woman of about fifty with promi­nent cheekbones and thin lips standing in front of me， her hands on her hips， not wearing a skirt but with trousered legs apart， just like the compass in a box of geometrical instruments.

 

I was flabbergasted.

 

“Don’t you know me？ And I have held you in my arms！”

 

I felt even more flabbergasted. Fortunately my mother came in just then and said， “He has been away so long， you must excuse him for forgetting.”

 

“You should remember，” she said to me， “this is Mrs. Yang from across the road.... She has a beancurd shop.”

 

Then， to be sure， I remembered. When I was a child there was a Mrs. Yang who used to sit nearly all day long in the beancurd shop across the road， and everybody used to call her Beancurd Beauty. But she used to pow­der herself， and her cheekbones were not so prominent then nor her lips so thin； moreover she remained seated all the time， so that I had never noticed this resemblance to a compass. In those days people said that， thanks to her，that beancurd shop did very good business. But， probably on account of my age， she had made no impression on me， so that later I forgot her entirely. However， the Compass was extremely indignant and looked at me most contemptuously， just as one might look at a Frenchman who had never heard of Napoleon or an American who had never heard of Washington，and smiling sarcastically she said：

 

“這好極！他，——怎樣？……”

 

“他？……他景況也很不如意……”母親說著，便向房外看，“這些人又來了。說是買木器，順手也就隨便拿走的，我得去看看。”

 

母親站起身，出去了。門外有幾個女人的聲音。我便招宏兒走近面前，和他閑話：問他可會寫字，可愿意出門。

 

“我們坐火車去么？”

 

“我們坐火車去。”

 

“船呢？”

 

“先坐船，……”

 

“哈！這模樣了！胡子這么長了！”一種尖利的怪聲突然大叫起來。

 

我吃了一嚇，趕忙抬起頭，卻見一個凸顴骨，薄嘴唇，五十歲上下的女人站在我面前，兩手搭在髀間，沒有系裙，張著兩腳，正像一個畫圖儀器里細腳伶仃的圓規(guī)。

 

我愕然了。

 

“不認識了么？我還抱過你咧！”

 

我愈加愕然了。幸而我的母親也就進來，從旁說：

 

“他多年出門，統(tǒng)忘卻了。你該記得罷，”便向著我說，“這是斜對門的楊二嫂，……開豆腐店的。”

 

哦，我記得了。我孩子時候，在斜對門的豆腐店里確乎終日坐著一個楊二嫂，人都叫伊“豆腐西施”。但是擦著白粉，顴骨沒有這么高，嘴唇也沒有這么薄，而且終日坐著，我也從沒有見過這圓規(guī)式的姿勢。那時人說：因為伊，這豆腐店的買賣非常好。但這大約因為年齡的關(guān)系，我卻并未蒙著一毫感化，所以竟完全忘卻了。然而圓規(guī)很不平，顯出鄙夷的神色，仿佛嗤笑法國人不知道拿破侖，美國人不知道華盛頓似的，冷笑說：

 

“You had forgotten？ But naturally I must be beneath your notice....”

 

“Certainly not ... I ...” I answered nervously， getting to my feet.

 

“Then you listen to me， Master Xun. You have grown rich， and they are too heavy to move， so you can’t possibly want these old pieces of furniture any more. You had better let me take them away. Poor people like us can do with them.”

 

“I haven’t grown rich. I must sell these in order to buy....”

 

“Oh， come now， you have been made the intendant of a circuit， and do you still say you’re not rich？ You have three concubines now， and whenever you go out it is in a big sedan-chair with eight bearers， and do you still say you’re not rich？ Hah！ You can’t hide anything from me.”

 

Knowing there was nothing I could say， I remained silent.

 

“Come now， really， the more money people have the more miserly they get， and the more miserly they are the more money they get，” said the Com­pass， turning indignantly away and walking slowly off， casually picking up a pair of Mother’s gloves and stuffing them into her pocket as she went out.

 

After this a number of relatives in the neighbourhood came to call. In the intervals between entertaining them I did some packing， and so three or four days passed.

 

One very cold afternoon， I was sitting drinking tea after lunch when I was aware of someone coming in， and turned my head to see who it was. At the first glance I gave an involuntary start， and hastily stood up and went over to welcome him.

 

The newcomer was Runtu. But although I knew at a glance that this was Runtu， it was not the Runtu I remembered. He had grown to twice his former size. His round face， crimson before， had become sallow and acquired deep lines and wrinkles； his eyes too had become like his father’s with rims swollen and red， a feature common to most of the peasants who work by the sea and are exposed all day to the wind from the ocean. He wore a shabby felt cap and just one very thin padded jacket， with the result that he was shivering from head to foot. He was carrying a paper package and a long pipe， nor was his hand the plump red hand I remembered， but coarse and clumsy and chapped， like the bark of a pine tree.

 

“忘了？這真是貴人眼高……”

 

“那有這事……我……”我惶恐著，站起來說。

 

“那么，我對你說。迅哥兒，你闊了，搬動又笨重，你還要什么這些破爛木器，讓我拿去罷。我們小戶人家，用得著。”

 

“我并沒有闊哩。我須賣了這些，再去……”

 

“阿呀呀，你放了道臺了，還說不闊？你現(xiàn)在有三房姨太太；出門便是八抬的大轎，還說不闊？嚇，什么都瞞不過我。”

 

我知道無話可說了，便閉了口，默默的站著。

 

“阿呀阿呀，真是愈有錢，便愈是一毫不肯放松，愈是一毫不肯放松，便愈有錢……”圓規(guī)一面憤憤的回轉(zhuǎn)身，一面絮絮的說，慢慢向外走，順便將我母親的一副手套塞在褲腰里，出去了。

 

此后又有近處的本家和親戚來訪問我。我一面應(yīng)酬，偷空便收拾些行李，這樣的過了三四天。

 

一日是天氣很冷的午后，我吃過午飯，坐著喝茶，覺得外面有人進來了，便回頭去看。我看時，不由的非常出驚，慌忙站起身，迎著走去。

 

這來的便是閏土。雖然我一見便知道是閏土，但又不是我這記憶上的閏土了。他身材增加了一倍；先前的紫色的圓臉，已經(jīng)變作灰黃，而且加上了很深的皺紋；眼睛也像他父親一樣，周圍都腫得通紅，這我知道，在海邊種地的人，終日吹著海風，大抵是這樣的。他頭上是一頂破氈帽，身上只一件極薄的棉衣，渾身瑟索著；手里提著一個紙包和一支長煙管，那手也不是我所記得的紅活圓實的手，卻又粗又笨而且開裂，像是松樹皮了。

 

Delighted as I was， I did not know how to express myself， and could only say：

 

“Oh！ Runtu—so it’s you？...”

 

After this there were so many things I wanted to talk about， they should have poured out like a string of beads： woodcocks， jumping fish， shells， zha.... But I was tongue-tied， unable to put all I was thinking into words.

 

He stood there， mixed joy and sadness showing on his face. His lips moved， but not a sound did he utter. Finally， assuming a respectful attitude，he said clearly：

 

“Master！...”

 

I felt a shiver run through me； for I knew then what a lamentably thick wall had grown up between us. Yet I could not say anything.

 

He turned his head to call：

 

“Shuisheng， bow to the master.” Then he pulled forward a boy who had been hiding behind his back， and this was just the Runtu of twenty years be­fore， only a little paler and thinner， and he had no silver necklet on his neck.

 

“This is my fifth，” he said. “He has not seen any society， so he is shy and awkward.”

 

Mother came downstairs with Hong’er， probably after hearing our voices.

 

“I got the letter some time ago， madam，” said Runtu. “I was really so pleased to know that the master was coming back ... ”

 

“Now， why ever are you so polite？ Weren’t you playmates together in the past？” said Mother gaily. “You had better still call him Brother Xun as before.”

 

“Oh， you are really too ... What bad manners that would be. I was a child then and didn’t understand.” As he was speaking Runtu motioned Shuisheng to come and bow， but the child was shy， and only stood stock-still behind his father.

 

我這時很興奮，但不知道怎么說才好，只是說：

 

“阿！閏土哥，——你來了？……”

 

我接著便有許多話，想要連珠一般涌出：角雞，跳魚兒，貝殼，猹，……但又總覺得被什么擋著似的，單在腦里面回旋，吐不出口外去。

 

他站住了，臉上現(xiàn)出歡喜和凄涼的神情；動著嘴唇，卻沒有作聲。他的態(tài)度終于恭敬起來了，分明的叫道：

 

“老爺！……”

 

我似乎打了一個寒噤；我就知道，我們之間已經(jīng)隔了一層可悲的厚障壁了。我也說不出話。

 

他回過頭去說，“水生，給老爺磕頭。”便拖出躲在背后的孩子來，這正是一個廿年前的閏土，只是黃痩些，頊子上沒有銀圈罷了。“這是第五個孩子，沒有見過世面，躲躲閃閃……”

 

母親和宏兒下樓來了，他們大約也聽到了聲音。

 

“老太太。信是早收到了。我實在喜歡的了不得，知道老爺回來……”閏土說。

 

“阿，你怎的這樣客氣起來。你們先前不是哥弟稱呼么？還是照舊：迅哥兒。”母親高興的說。

 

“阿呀，老太太真是……這成什么規(guī)矩。那時是孩子，不懂事……”閏土說著，又叫水生上來打拱，那孩子卻害羞，緊緊的只貼在他背后。

 

“So he is Shuisheng？ Your fifth？” asked Mother. “We are all strangers，you can’t blame him for feeling shy. Hong’er had better take him to play. ”

 

When Hong’er heard this he went over to Shuisheng， and Shuisheng went out with him， entirely at his ease. Mother asked Runtu to sit down， and after a little hesitation he did so； then leaning his long pipe against the table he handed over the paper package， saying：

 

“In winter there is nothing worth bringing； but these few beans we dried ourselves there， if you will excuse the liberty， sir.”

 

When I asked him how things were with him， he just shook his head.

 

“In a very bad way. Even my sixth can do a little work， but still we haven’t enough to eat ... and then there is no security... All sorts of people want money， and there is no fixed rule ... and the harvests are bad. You grow things， and when you take them to sell you always have to pay several taxes and lose money， while if you don’t try to sell， the things may go bad....”

 

He kept shaking his head； yet， although his face was lined with wrin­kles， not one of them moved， just as if he were a stone statue. No doubt he felt intensely bitter， but could not express himself. After a pause he took up his pipe and began to smoke in silence.

 

From her chat with him， Mother learned that he was busy at home and had to go back the next day； and since he had had no lunch， she told him to go to the kitchen and fry some rice for himself.

 

After he had gone out， Mother and I both shook our heads over his hard life： many children， famines， taxes， soldiers， bandits， officials and landed gentry， all had squeezed him as dry as a mummy. Mother said that we should offer him all the things we were not going to take away， letting him choose for himself.

 

That afternoon he picked out a number of things： two long tables， four chairs， an incense-burner and candlesticks， and one balance. He also asked for all the ashes from the stove （in our part we cook over straw， and the ashes can be used to fertilize sandy soil）， saying that when we left he would come to take them away by boat.

 

“他就是水生？第五個？都是生人，怕生也難怪的；還是宏兒和他去走走。”母親說。

 

宏兒聽得這話，便來招水生，水生卻松松爽爽同他一路出去了。母親叫閏土坐，他遲疑了一回，終于就了坐，將長煙管靠在桌旁，遞過紙包來，說：

 

“冬天沒有什么東西了。這一點干青豆倒是自家曬在那里的，請老爺……”

 

我問問他的景況。他只是搖頭。

 

“非常難。第六個孩子也會幫忙了，卻總是吃不夠……又不太平……什么地方都要錢，沒有定規(guī)……收成又壞。種出東西來，挑去賣，總要捐幾回錢，折了本；不去賣，又只能爛掉……”

 

他只是搖頭；臉上雖然刻著許多皺紋，卻全然不動，仿佛石像一般。他大約只是覺得苦，卻又形容不出，沉默了片時，便拿起煙管來默默的吸煙了。

 

母親問他，知道他的家里事務(wù)忙，明天便得回去；又沒有吃過午飯，便叫他自己到廚下炒飯吃去。

 

他出去了；母親和我都嘆息他的景況：多子，饑荒，苛稅，兵，匪，官，紳，都苦得他像一個木偶人了。母親對我說，凡是不必搬走的東西，盡可以送他，可以聽他自己去揀擇。

 

下午，他揀好了幾件東西：兩條長桌，四個椅子，一副香爐和燭臺，一桿抬秤。他又要所有的草灰（我們這里煮飯是燒稻草的，那灰，可以做沙地的肥料），待我們啟程的時候，他用船來載去。

 

That night we talked again， but not of anything serious； and the next morning he went away with Shuisheng.

 

After another nine days it was time for us to leave. Runtu came in the morning. Shuisheng had not come with him—he had just brought a little girl of five to watch the boat. We were very busy all day， and had no time to talk. We also had quite a number of visitors， some to see us off， some to fetch things， and some to do both. It was nearly evening when we got on the boat， and by that time everything in the house， however old or shabby， large or small， fine or coarse， had been cleared away.

 

As we set off， the green mountains on either side of the river became deep blue in the dusk， receding towards the stern of the boat.

 

Hong’er and I， leaning against the cabin window， were looking out to­gether at the indistinct scene outside， when suddenly he asked：

 

“Uncle， when shall we go back？”

 

“Go back？ Do you mean that before you’ve left you want to go back？”

 

“Well， Shuisheng has invited me to his home....” He opened wide his black eyes in anxious thought.

 

Mother and I both felt rather sad， and so Runtu’s name came up again. Mother said that ever since our family started packing up， Mrs. Yang from the beancurd shop had come over every day， and the day before in the ashheap she had unearthed a dozen bowls and plates， which after some discus­sion she insisted must have been buried there by Runtu， so that when he came to remove the ashes he could take them home at the same time. After making this discovery Mrs. Yang was very pleased with herself， and flew off taking the dog-teaser with her. （The dog-teaser is used by poultry keepers in our part. It is a wooden cage inside which food is put， so that hens can stretch their necks in to eat but dogs can only look on furiously.） And it was a marvel， considering the size of her feet， how fast she could run.

 

I was leaving the old house farther and farther behind， while the hills and rivers of my old home were also receding gradually ever farther in the distance. But I felt no regret. I only felt that all round me was an invisible high wall， cutting me off from my fellow， and this depressed me thoroughly. The vision of that small hero with the silver necklet among the watermelons had formerly been as clear as day， but now it had suddenly blurred， adding to depression.

 

夜間，我們又談些閑天，都是無關(guān)緊要的話；第二天早晨，他就領(lǐng)了水生回去了。

 

又過了九日，是我們啟程的日期。閏土早晨便到了，水生沒有同來，卻只帶著一個五歲的女兒管船只。我們終日很忙碌，再沒有談天的工夫。來客也不少，有送行的，有拿東西的，有送行兼拿東西的。待到傍晚我們上船的時候，這老屋里的所有破舊大小粗細東西，已經(jīng)一掃而空了。

 

我們的船向前走，兩岸的青山在黃昏中，都裝成了深黛顏色，連著退向船后梢去。

 

宏兒和我靠著船窗，同看外面模糊的風景，他忽然問道：

 

“大伯！我們什么時候回來？”

 

“回來？你怎么還沒有走就想回來了。”

 

“可是，水生約我到他家玩去咧……”他睜著大的黑眼睛，癡癡的想。

 

我和母親也都有些惘然，于是又提起閏土來。母親說，那豆腐西施的楊二嫂，自從我家收拾行李以來，本是每日必到的，前天伊在灰堆里，掏出十多個碗碟來，議論之后，便定說是閏土埋著的，他可以在運灰的時候，一齊搬回家里去；楊二嫂發(fā)見了這件事，自己很以為功，便拿了那狗氣殺（這是我們這里養(yǎng)雞的器具，木盤上面有著柵欄，內(nèi)盛食料，雞可以伸進頊子去啄，狗卻不能，只能看著氣死），飛也似的跑了，虧伊裝著這么高底的小腳，竟跑得這樣快。

 

老屋離我愈遠了；故鄉(xiāng)的山水也都漸漸遠離了我，但我卻并不感到怎樣的留戀。我只覺得我四面有看不見的高墻，將我隔成孤身，使我非常氣悶；那西瓜地上的銀項圈的小英雄的影像，我本來十分清楚，現(xiàn)在卻忽地模糊了，又使我非常的悲哀。

 

Mother and Hong’er fell asleep.

 

I lay down， listening to the water rippling beneath the boat， and knew that I was going my way. I thought： although there is such a barrier between Runtu and myself， our children still have much in common， for wasn’t Hong’er thinking of Shuisheng just now？ I hope they will not be like us， that they will not allow a barrier to grow up between them. But again I would not like them， because they want to be one， to have a treadmill existence like mine， nor to suffer like Runtu until they become stupefied， nor yet， like oth­ers， to devote all their energies to dissipation. They should have a new life， a life we have never experienced.

 

The access of hope made me suddenly afraid. When Runtu had asked for the incense-burner and candlesticks I had laughed up my sleeve at him，to think that he was still worshipping idols and would never put them out of his mind. Yet what I now called hope was no more than an idol I had created myself. The only difference was that what he desired was close at hand，while what I desired was less easily realized.

 

As I dozed， a stretch of jade-green seashore spread itself before my eyes， and above a round golden moon hung from a deep blue sky. I thought：hope cannot be said to exist， nor can it be said not to exist. It is just like roads across the earth. For actually the earth had no roads to begin with， but when many men pass one way， a road is made.

 

Jan-21

 

母親和宏兒都睡著了。

 

我躺著，聽船底潺潺的水聲，知道我在走我的路。我想：我竟與閏土隔絕到這地步了，但我們的后輩還是一氣，宏兒不是正在想念水生么。我希望他們不再像我，又大家隔膜起來……然而我又不愿意他們因為要一氣，都如我的辛苦展轉(zhuǎn)而生活，也不愿意他們都如閏土的辛苦麻木而生活，也不愿意都如別人的辛苦恣睢而生活。他們應(yīng)該有新的生活，為我們所未經(jīng)生活過的。

 

我想到希望，忽然害怕起來了。閏土要香爐和燭臺的時候，我還暗地里笑他，以為他總是崇拜偶像，什么時候都不忘卻?，F(xiàn)在我所謂希望，不也是我自己手制的偶像么？只是他的愿望切近，我的愿望茫遠罷了。

 

我在朦朧中，眼前展開一片海邊碧綠的沙地來，上面深藍的天空中掛著一輪金黃的圓月。我想：希望是本無所謂有，無所謂無的。這正如地上的路；其實地上本沒有路，走的人多了，也便成了路。

 

一九二一年一月。