双语《小约翰》 七

VII
七

The morning was cold and grey．The black shining boughs， swept bare by the storm，dripped in the fog．Little Johannes ran as fast as he could over the wet，down-beaten grass，looking before him in the distance where the wood was thinnest，as though he had some goal beyond．His eyes were red with crying，and dazed with fear and grief．He had been wandering about all night，seeking some light，—the feeling of being safe and at home had vanished with Windekind．The spirit of loneliness lurked in every dark corner；he dared not look round．
早晨是寒冷而黯淡。黑色的光亮的树枝，被暴风雨脱了叶，在雾中哭泣。下垂的湿草上面，慌忙地跑着小约翰，凝视着前面，是树林发亮的地方，似乎那边就摆着他的目的。他的眼睛哭红了，并且因为恐惧和苦恼而僵硬了。他是这样地跑了一整夜，像寻觅着光明似的——和旋儿在一处，他是安稳地如在故乡的感觉。每一暗处，都坐着抛弃的游魂，他也不敢回顾自己的身后。

At last he came out of the wood；he looked over a meadowland， and fine close rain was pouring steadily．A horse was standing out in the rain close to a bare willow tree．It stood motionless，with bowed head，and the water trickled slowly off its shining flanks and plaited mane．
他终于到了一个树林的边际。他望见一片牧场，那上面徐徐下着细微的尘雨。牧场中央的一株秃柳树旁站着一匹马。它不动地弯着颈子，雨水从它发亮的背脊和粘成一片的鬃毛上懒散地滴沥下来。

Johannes ran on，along the skirt of the wood．He looked with dim，timid eyes at the lonely beast，and the grey drizzle，and he softly groaned．
约翰还是跑远去，沿着树林。他用了疲乏的恐惧的眼光，看着那孤寂的马和晦暗的雨烟，微微呻吟着。

“Now it is all over，”thought he．“Now the sun will never come again．Now everything will always look the same to me as it does here．”
“现在是都完了，”他想，“太阳就永不回来了。于我就要永是这样，像这里似的。”

But he dared not stand still in his despair；something most dreadful would befall him，he thought．
在他的绝望中，他却不敢静静地站定——惊人的事就要出现了，他想。

Then he espied the high wall of a garden，and a little house， under a lime-tree with faded yellow leaves．He went into the enclosure and ran along broad paths where the brown and gold lime-leaves thickly covered the ground．Purple asters and other gay autumn flowers grew by the grass plots in wild abundance．
他在那里看见一株带着淡黄叶子的菩提树下，有一个村舍的大的栅栏门和一间小屋子。他穿进门去，走过宽广的树间路，棕色的和黄的菩提叶，厚铺在地面上。草坛旁边生着紫色的翠菊，还随便错杂着几朵彩色的秋花。

Then he came to a pond．By the side of it was a large house， with windows and doors all opening down to the ground．Climbing roses and other creepers grew against the walls．But it was all shut up and deserted．Half-stripped chestnut trees stood about the house， and on the earth，among the fallen leaves Johannes saw the shining brown chestnuts．
他走近一个池。池旁站着一所全有门户和窗的大屋。蔷薇丛和常春藤生在墙根。半已秃叶的栗树围绕着它，在地上和将落的枝叶之间，约翰还看见闪着光亮的棕色的栗子。

The cold，dead feeling about his heart disappeared．He thought of his own home—there two chestnut-trees grew，and at this season he always went out to pick up chestnuts．He suddenly longed to be there，as though an inviting voice had called him．He sat down on a bench close to the big house and cried himself to rest．
冰冷的死的感觉，从他这里退避了。他想到他自己的住所——那地方也有栗树，当这时候他总是去觅光滑的栗子的。蓦地有一个愿望捆住他了，他似乎听得有熟识的声音在呼唤。他就在大屋旁边的板凳上坐下，并且静静地啜泣起来。

A peculiar smell made him look up．A man was standing by him，with a white apron on and a pipe in his mouth．Round his waist he had a wisp of bast with which he tied up the flowers．Johannes knew that smell so well！It reminded him of his own garden，and the gardener who brought him pretty caterpillars and showed him starling's eggs．
一种特别的气味又引得他抬了头。他近旁站着一个人，系着白色的围裙，还有烟管衔在嘴里。环着腰带有一条菩提树皮，他用它系些花朵。约翰也熟识这气味，他就记起了他在自己的园子里，并且想到那送他美丽的青虫和为他选取鹧鸪蛋的园丁。

He was not frightened，—though it was a man who stood before him．He told the man that he had got lost and did not know his way， and thankfully followed him to the little cottage under the lime-tree．
他并不怕——虽然站在他身边的也是一个人。他对那人说，他是被抛弃，而且迷路了，他还感谢地跟着他，进那黄叶的菩提树下的小屋去。

Indoors，the gardener's wife sat knitting black stockings．A large kettle of water was hung to boil over the turf-fire in the hearth-place．On the mat by the fire lay a cat with her forepaws crossed，just as Simon had been lying when Johannes left home．
那里面坐着园丁的妻，织着黑色的袜子。灶头的煤火上挂一个大的水罐，且煮着。火旁的席子上坐着一匹猫，拳了前爪，正如约翰离家时候坐在那里的西蒙。

Johannes was made to sit down by the fire to dry his feet．“Tick-tick，tick-tick，”said the great hanging clock．Johannes looked at the steam which came singing out of the kettle，and at the little flames which skipped and jumped fantastically about the peat blocks．
约翰要烘干他的脚，便坐在火旁边。“镝！——镝！——镝！——镝！”——那大的时钟说。约翰看看呼哨着从水罐里纷飞出来的蒸汽，看看活泼而游戏地超过瓦器，跳着的小小的火苗。

“Here I am among men，”thought he．
“我就在人类里了。”他想。

It was not alarming．He felt easy and safe．They were kind and friendly，and asked him what he would like to do．
然而于他并无不舒服。他觉得完全安宁了。他们都好心而且友爱，还问他怎样是他最心爱的。

“I would rather stay here，”he replied．
“我最爱留在这里。”他回答说。

Here he was at peace，and if he went home there would be scolding and tears．He would have to listen in silence，and he would be told that he had been very naughty．He would be obliged to look back on the past，and think everything over once more．
这里给他安全，倘一回家，将就有忧愁和眼泪。他必须不开口，人也将说他做了错事了。一切他就须再看见，一切又须想一回。

He longed，to be sure，for his little room，for his father，for Presto—but he could better endure the quiet longing for them here than the painful，miserable meeting．And he felt as though here he could still think of Windekind，while at home he could not．
他实在渴慕着他的小房子，他的父亲，普烈斯多——但比起困苦的愁烦的再见来，他宁可在这里忍受着平静的渴慕。他又觉得，仿佛这里是可以毫无搅扰地怀想着旋儿，在家里便不行了。

Windekind was now certainly quite gone．Gone far away to the sunny land where palm-trees bend over the blue sea．He would do penance here and await his friend's return．
旋儿一定是走掉了。远远地到了椰树高出于碧海之上的晴朗的地方去了。他情愿在这里忏悔，并且坚候他。

So he begged the two good folks to let him live with them．He would be obedient and work for them．He would help to take care of the garden and the flowers，at any rate through this winter；for he hoped in his heart that Windekind would return with the Spring．
他因此请求这两个好心的人们，许他留在他那里。他愿意帮助养园和花卉。只在这一冬。因为他私自盼望，旋儿是将和春天一同回来的。

The gardener and his wife supposed that Johannes had run away from home because he had been hardly treated．They pitied him，and promised to let him stay．
园丁和他的妻以为约翰是在家里受了严刻的待遇，所以逃出来的。他们对他怀着同情，并且许他留下了。

So he remained and helped to work in the garden and attend to the flowers．They gave him a little room to sleep in with a bedstead painted blue．Out of it，in the morning，he could see the wet yellow lime-leaves flutter past the window，and at night the black boughs waving to and fro，and the stars playing hide-and-seek between them．And he gave names to the stars，and the brightest of them he called Windekind．
他的愿望实现了。他留下来，帮助那花卉和园子的养护。他们给他一间小房，有一个蓝板的床位。在那里，他早晨看那潮湿的黄色的菩提树叶子怎样地在窗前轻拂，夜间看那黑暗的树干，后面有星星们玩着捉迷藏的游戏，怎样地往来动摇。他就给星星们名字，而那最亮的一颗，他称之为旋儿。

He told his history only to the flowers，most of which he had known before at home；to the large，solemn asters，the many-hued zinnias，and the white chrysanthemums which bloom on so late into the blustering autumn．When all the rest of the flowers were dead the chrysanthemums still stood upright—even when one morning the first snow had fallen and Johannes came to see how they were getting on，they held up their cheerful faces and said：“Yes，we are still here．You would never have thought it！”And they looked very brave；but two days later they were all dead．
给花卉们呢，那是他在故乡时几乎全都熟识的。他叙述自己的故事，给严正的大的翠菊，给彩色的莘尼亚，给洁白的菊花——那开得很长久，直到凛烈的秋天的。当别的花们全都死去时，菊花还挺立着，待到初雪才下的清晨，约翰一早走来看它们的时候——它们也还伸着愉快的脸，并且说：“是的，我们还在这里呢！这是你没有想到的罢！”它们自以为勇敢，但三天之后，它们却都死了。

But palms and tree-ferns were still thriving in the hot-house，and the strange blossoms of orchids hung in the damp heat．Johannes peeped with amazement into their gorgeous cups，and thought of Windekind．How cold and colourless everything seemed then when he came out again—the sloppy snow with black footmarks，and the sighing，dripping branches of the trees！
温室中这时还盛装着木本羊齿和椰树，在润湿的闷热里，并且挂着兰类的奇特的花须。约翰惊异地凝视在这些华美的花托上，一面想着旋儿。但他一到野外，一切是怎样地寒冷而无色呵，带着黑色的足印的雪，索索作响的滴水的秃树。

But when the snow-flakes had been noiselessly falling hour after hour so that the boughs bent under the growing burthen， Johannes ran off gleefully into the purple twilight of the snow-laden wood．That was silence—but not death．It was almost more lovely than summer verdure，as the dazzling whiteness of the tangled twigs made lace-work against the light-blue sky，or as one of the over-weighted boughs shook off its load of snow，which fell in a cloud of glittering powder．
倘若雪团沉默着下得很久，树枝因着增长的茸毛而弯曲了，约翰便喜欢走到雪林的紫色的昏黄中去。那是沉静，却不是死。如果那伸开的小枝条的皎洁的白，分布在明蓝的天空中，或者过于负重的丛莽，摇去积雪，使它纷飞成一阵灿烂的云烟的时候，却几乎更美于夏绿。

Once in the course of such a walk，when he had gone so far that all round him there was nothing to be seen but snow and snow-wrapped woods，half white and half black，and every sound of life seemed stifled under the glistening downy shroud，it happened that he thought he saw a tiny white creature running swiftly in front of him．He followed it—it resembled no animal that he knew；but when he tried to catch it，it promptly vanished into a hollow trunk．Johannes stared into the hole where it had disappeared and thought to himself：“I wonder if it was Wistik？”
有一次，就在这样的游行中，他走得很远，周围只看见戴雪的枝条——半黑，半白——而且各个声响、各个生命，仿佛都在灿烂的蒙茸里消融了，于是使他似乎见有一匹小小的白色的动物在他前面走。他追随它——这不像是他所认识的动物——但当他想要捉，它却慌忙消失在一株树干里了。约翰窥探着黑色的穴口，那小动物所伏匿的，并且自问道：“这许是旋儿罢？”

But he did not think much about him．He fancied it was wrong， and he would not spoil his fit of repentance．And his life with these two kind people left him little to ask for．In the evenings he had indeed to read aloud out of a thick book in which a great deal was said about God；but he was familiar with the book，and read unheeding．That night，however，after his walk in the snow，he lay awake in his bed，looking at the cold gleam of the moonlight on the floor．All at once he saw two tiny hands which came out from below the bedstead and firmly clutched the edge．Then the top of a little white fur cap came into sight between the two hands，and at last he saw a pair of grave eyes under uplifted eyebrows．
他不甚想念他。他以他为不好，他也不肯轻减他的忏悔。而在两个好人身边的生活，也使他很少疑问了。他虽然每晚必须读一点大而且黑的书，其中许多是关于上帝的议论，但他却认识那书，也读得很轻率。然而在他游行雪地以后的那一夜，他醒着躺在床上，眺望那地上的寒冷的月光。他蓦地看见一双小手，怎样地伸上床架来试探，并且紧紧地扳住了床沿。于是在两手之间显出一个白的小皮帽的尖来，末后，他看见扬起的眉毛之下，一对严正的小眼。

“Good-evening，Johannes！”said Wistik．“I am come to remind you of your promise．You cannot yet have found the Book，for it is not yet Spring time．But do you ever think it over？ What is that thick book which you are made to read？ But that cannot be the right book．Do not imagine that．”
“好晚上，约翰！”将知说，“我到你这里来一下，为的是使你记念我们的前约。你不能觅得那书儿，是因为还不是春天。但你却想着那个么？那是怎样地一本厚书呀，那我看见你所读的？那不能是那正当的呵。不要信它罢！”

“I do not imagine that，Wistik，”said Johannes．He turned over to go to sleep again；but he could not get the gold key out of his head．Before now，when reading the big Book，he had thought of that，and he saw plainly that it could not be the right Book．
“我不信它，将知。”约翰说。他翻一个身，且要睡去了。然而那小锁匙却不肯离开他的心念。从此他每读那本厚书的时候，也就想到那匙儿，于是他看得很清楚，那不是那正当的。