我的怒氣推著我往前走,于是我一直沿著小路走去。直到憤怒開始褪去,我才放慢了腳步。點點水滴從我頭頂上的天穹潺潺而下,但我不能肯定是開始下雨了,還是純粹是昨天雨后留在我頭上高處的樹葉叢中的積水,正在慢慢地滴落下來,完成它們歸于塵土的旅程。一棵新倒伏下來的大樹——我認為它很新是因為它還沒有完全被苔蘚覆蓋住——斜倚在她的姐妹們的樹干上,形成了一個掩蔽的小長椅,離小徑只有安全的幾英尺高。我踩過一片蕨類植物,小心地坐下來,確保我的夾克隔在了那個潮濕的座椅和相應(yīng)的衣服之間。然后,我把戴著兜帽的頭靠在那棵活著的樹上。
This was the wrong place to have come. I should have known, but where else was there to go? The forest was deep green and far too much like the scene in last night's dream to allow for peace of mind. Now that there was no longer the sound of my soggy footsteps, the silencewas piercing. The birds were quiet, too, the drops increasing in frequency, so it must be raining above. The ferns stood higher than my head, now that I was seated, and I knew someone could walk by on the path, three feet away, and not see me.
我來錯地方了,我應(yīng)該早就知道的,但我還能去哪里呢?這個森林如此蒼翠,太像昨晚的夢境了,我沒法讓自己的心緒保持寧靜。既然這里已經(jīng)不會再有我沉悶的腳步聲了,這片沉寂就更加顯得諷刺。鳥兒也安靜下來了。滴水逐漸變得頻繁起來,所以森林上空一定在下雨。那片蕨類植物高得比我還高,因為我是坐著的,所以我知道即使有人從三英尺外的小徑上經(jīng)過,也不會看見我的。
Here in the trees it was much easier to believe the absurdities that embarrassed me indoors. Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legends of a hundred different lands seemed much more likely in this green haze than they had in my clear-cut bedroom.