海倫·凱勒自傳《我的生活》第8期

　　第四章

　　The most important day I remember in all my life is the one on which my teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan, came to me. I am filled with wonder when I consider the immeasurable contrasts between the two lives which it connects. It was the third of March, 1887, three months before I was seven years old.

　　在我的一生中，最令我刻骨銘心的一天就是我的老師，安妮·曼斯菲爾德·蘇立文的到來(lái)。我心里充滿(mǎn)了驚奇，我認(rèn)為在兩個(gè)將命運(yùn)聯(lián)系在一起的人之間一定存在著無(wú)限的差異。那天是1887年3月3日，三個(gè)月后我就滿(mǎn)七歲了。

　　On the afternoon of that eventful day, I stood on the porch, dumb, expectant. I guessed vaguely from my mother’s signs and from the hurrying to and fro in the house that something unusual was about to happen, so I went to the door and waited on the steps. The afternoon sun penetrated the mass of honeysuckle that covered the porch, and fell on my upturned face. My fingers lingered almost unconsciously on the familiar leaves and blossoms which had just come forth to greet the sweet southern spring. I did not know what the future held of marvel or surprise for me. Anger and bitterness had preyed upon me continually for weeks and a deep languor had succeeded this passionate struggle.

　　那天下午，我站在門(mén)廊里，似乎在默默地期待著什么。我從房間里人們忙前忙后的動(dòng)靜，以及母親的手勢(shì)里隱約地猜到，家里要有什么事發(fā)生。所以，我就走出房門(mén)坐在臺(tái)階上等著。午后的陽(yáng)光穿透門(mén)廊上茂密的金銀花藤，暖暖地灑落在我仰起的臉上。我的手指不由自主地游移在那些熟悉的葉片和花蕾之間，初生的枝蔓似乎也忙不迭地向南方的春日致意。我不知道我的未來(lái)會(huì)發(fā)生什么樣的奇跡，一連好幾個(gè)星期，懊惱和苦悶折磨著我，深深的無(wú)助感令我抗?fàn)幉坏谩?/p>

　　Have you ever been at sea in a dense fog, when it seemed as if a tangible white darkness shut you in, and the great ship, tense and anxious, groped her way toward the shore with plummet and sounding-line, and you waited with beating heart for something to happen? I was like that ship before my education began, only I was without compass or sounding-line, and had no way of knowing how near the harbour was. "Light! give me light!" was the wordless cry of my soul, and the light of love shone on me in that very hour.

　　你是否曾到過(guò)濃霧籠罩的海面?一團(tuán)白色的霧靄將你徹底封閉，而你腳下的那條大船，則焦慮不安地摸索前行，它邊走邊用鉛錘和探深繩尋找著靠岸的航道。那么你呢?就帶著怦怦的心跳等待著未知事物的發(fā)生?在接受正式教育之前，我就像那艘漂蕩在迷霧中的船，只是我沒(méi)有指南針和探深繩，也無(wú)從知曉港口的遠(yuǎn)近。“光!給我光明!”這是發(fā)自我靈魂深處無(wú)言的吶喊，每分每秒，我都想把自己沐浴在愛(ài)的光明之中。

　　I felt approaching footsteps. I stretched out my hand as I supposed to my mother. Some one took it, and I was caught up and held close in the arms of her who had come to reveal all things to me, and, more than all things else, to love me.

　　我感覺(jué)到了走近的腳步聲，我伸出手，就像迎接母親那樣。有個(gè)人抓住了我的手，我被她緊緊地抱在懷中，她就是來(lái)向我揭示萬(wàn)事萬(wàn)物的人。事實(shí)上，比揭示萬(wàn)事萬(wàn)物更為重要的是，她愛(ài)我。

　　The morning after my teacher came she led me into her room and gave me a doll. The little blind children at the Perkins Institution had sent it and Laura Bridgman had dressed it; but I did not know this until afterward. When I had played with it a little while, Miss Sullivan slowly spelled into my hand the word "d-o-l-l." I was at once interested in this finger play and tried to imitate it. When I finally succeeded in making the letters correctly I was flushed with childish pleasure and pride. Running downstairs to my mother I held up my hand and made the letters for doll. I did not know that I was spelling a word or even that words existed; I was simply making my fingers go in monkey-like imitation. In the days that followed I learned to spell in this uncomprehending way a great many words, among them pin, hat, cup and a few verbs like sit, stand and walk. But my teacher had been with me several weeks before I understood that everything has a name.

　　我記得在老師到來(lái)之后的次日早晨，她領(lǐng)我來(lái)到了她的房間，還給了我一個(gè)布娃娃。這個(gè)娃娃是帕金斯學(xué)院的一個(gè)小盲童送給蘇立文小姐的。勞拉·布里吉曼還給娃娃做了衣服穿，我也是后來(lái)才知道娃娃的來(lái)歷的。當(dāng)時(shí)，我玩了一會(huì)兒手上的娃娃，蘇立文小姐則慢慢地在我手上拼寫(xiě)“doll”這個(gè)詞。我立刻對(duì)這種手指游戲產(chǎn)生了興趣，并且努力模仿。最終，我正確地拼寫(xiě)出了單詞，我難以抑制我的快樂(lè)和自豪。后來(lái)，我跑到樓下母親身旁，我舉起手，然后在上面拼寫(xiě)出“娃娃”的單詞。當(dāng)時(shí)，我并不知道我拼寫(xiě)的是一個(gè)單詞，我甚至不知道那些字詞是否存在，我只是調(diào)皮地用手指加以模仿而已。在隨后的幾天里，我用這種懵懂的方式學(xué)會(huì)了拼寫(xiě)很多詞，其中有像“pin，bat，cup”這樣的名詞，還有一些像“sit，stand，walk”之類(lèi)的動(dòng)詞。事實(shí)上，我是在和老師待了好幾星期后，才知道每件東西都有一個(gè)名字。