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朱自清·《背影》英译

2016-6-19 00:28| 发布者: sisu04| 查看: 6870| 评论: 0|来自: 翻译网

摘要: 中英对照散文《背影》

背影

 

朱自清

 

我与父亲不相见已二年余了,我最不能忘记的是他的背影。那年冬天,祖母死了,父亲的差使也交卸了,正是祸不单行的日子。我从北京到徐州,打算跟着父亲奔丧回家。到徐州见着父亲,看见满院狼藉的东西,又想起祖母,不禁簌簌地流下眼泪。父亲说:“事已如此,不必难过,好在天无绝人之路!”

 

回家变卖典质,父亲还了亏空;又借钱办了丧事。这些日子,家中光景很是惨淡,一半为了丧事,一半为了父亲赋闲。丧事完毕,父亲要到南京谋事,我也要回北京念书,我们便同行。

 

到南京时,有朋友约去游逛,勾留了一日;第二日上午便须渡江到浦口,下午上车北去。父亲因为事忙,本已说定不送我,叫旅馆里一个熟识的茶房陪我同去。他再三嘱咐茶房,甚是仔细。但他终于不放心,怕茶房不妥帖;颇踌躇了一会。其实我那年已二十岁,北京已来往过两三次,是没有什么要紧的了。他踌躇了一会,终于决定还是自己送我去。我两三回劝他不必去;他只说,“不要紧,他们去不好!”

 

我们过了江,进了车站。我买票,他忙着照看行李。行李太多了,得向脚夫行些小费,才可过去。他便又忙着和他们讲价钱。我那时真是聪明过分,总觉他说话不大漂亮,非自己插嘴不可,但他终于讲定了价钱;就送我上车。他给我拣定了靠车门的一张椅子;我将他给我做的紫毛大衣铺好座位。他嘱我路上小心,夜里要警醒些,不要受凉。又嘱托茶房好好照应我。我心里暗笑他的迂;他们只认得钱,托他们只是白托!而且我这样大年纪的人,难道还不能料理自己么?唉,我现在想想,那时真是太聪明了!

 

我说道,“爸爸,你走吧。”他往车外看了看,说,“我买几个橘子去。你就在此地,不要走动。”我看那边月台的栅栏外有几个卖东西的等着顾客。走到那边月台,须穿过铁道,须跳下去又爬上去。父亲是一个胖子,走过去自然要费事些。我本来要去的,他不肯,只好让他去。我看见他戴着黑布小帽,穿着黑布大马褂,深青布棉袍,蹒跚地走到铁道边,慢慢探身下去,尚不大难。可是他穿过铁道,要爬上那边月台,就不容易了。他用两手攀着上面,两脚再向上缩;他肥胖的身子向左微倾,显出努力的样子。这时我看见他的背影,我的泪很快地流下来了。我赶紧拭干了泪,怕他看见,也怕别人看见。我再向外看时,他已抱了朱红的桔子往回走了。过铁道时,他先将桔子散放在地上,自己慢慢爬下,再抱起桔子走。到这边时,我赶紧去搀他。他和我走到车上,将桔子一股脑儿放在我的皮大衣上。于是扑扑衣上的泥土,心里很轻松似的。过一会儿说,“我走了,到那边来信!”我望着他走出去。他走了几步,回过头看见我,说,“进去吧,里边没人。”等他的背影混入来来往往的人里,再找不着了,我便进来坐下,我的眼泪又来了。

 

近几年来,父亲和我都是东奔西走,家中光景是一日不如一日。他少年出外谋生,独立支持,做了许多大事。哪知老境却如此颓唐!他触目伤怀,自然情不能自已。情郁于中,自然要发之于外;家庭琐屑便往往触他之怒。他待我渐渐不同往日。但最近两年的不见,他终于忘却我的不好,只是惦记着我,惦记着我的儿子。我北来后,他写了一信给我,信中说道,“我身体平安,惟膀子疼痛利害,举箸提笔,诸多不便,大约大去之期不远矣。”我读到此处,在晶莹的泪光中,又看见那肥胖的,青布棉袍,黑布马褂的背影。唉!我不知何时再能与他相见!
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My Father’s Back

 

Zhu Ziqing

 

Though it is over two years since I saw my father, I can never forget my last view of his back. That winter my grandmother died, and my father’s official appointment was terminated, for troubles never come singly. I went from Beijing to Xuzhou, to go back with him for the funeral. When I joined him in Xuzhou I found the courtyard strewn with things and could not help shedding tears at the thought of granny.

 

“What’s past is gone,” said my father. “It’s no use grieving. Heaven always leaves us some way out.”

 

Once home he sold property and mortgaged the house to clear our debts, besides borrowing money for the funeral. Those were dismal days for our family, thanks to the funeral and father’s unemployment. After the burial he decided to go to Nanjing to look for a position, while I was going back to Beijing to study, so we travelled together. A friend kept me in Nanjing for a day to see the sights, and the next morning I was to cross the Yangtze to Pukou to take the afternoon train to the north. As father was busy he had decided not to see me off, and he asked a waiter we knew at our hotel to take me to the station, giving him repeated and most detailed instructions. Even so, afraid the fellow might let me down, he worried for quite a time. As a matter of fact I was already twenty and had travelled to and from Beijing on several occasions, so there was no need for all this fuss. But after much hesitation he finally decided to see me off himself, though I told him again and again there was no need.

 

“Never mind,” he said. “I don’t want them to go.”

 

We crossed the Yangtze and arrived at the station, where I bought a ticket while he saw to my luggage. This was so bulky that we had to hire a porter, and father started bargaining over the price. I was such a bright young man that I thought some of his remarks undignified, and butted in myself. But eventually he got them to agree to a price, and saw me on to the train, choosing me a seat by the door, on which I spread the black sheepskin coat he had made for me. He warned me to be on my guard during the journey, and to take care at night not to catch cold. Then he urged the attendant to keep an eye on me, while I laughed up my sleeve at him ­– all such men understood was money! And wasn’t I old enough to look after myself? Ah, thinking back, what a bright young man I was!

 

“Don’t wait, father,” I said.

 

He looked out of the window.

 

“I’ll just buy you a few tangerines,” he said. “Wait here, and don’t wander off.”

 

Just outside the station were some vendors. To reach them he had to cross the lines, which involved jumping down from the platform and clambering up again. As my father is a stout man this was naturally not easy for him. But when I volunteered to go instead he would not hear of it. So I watched him in his black cloth cap and jacket and dark blue cotton-padded gown, as he waddled to the tracks and climbed slowly down – not so difficult after all. But when he had crossed the lines he had trouble clambering up the other side. He clutched the platform with both hands and tried to heave his legs up, straining to the left. At the sight of his burly back tears started to my eyes, but I wiped them hastily so that neither he nor anyone else might see them. When next I looked out he was on his way back with some ruddy tangerines. He put these on the platform before climbing slowly down to cross the lines, which he did after picking the fruit up. When he reached my side I was there to help him up. We boarded the train together and he plumped the tangerines down on my coat. Then he brushed the dust from his clothes, as if that was a weight off his mind.

 

“I’ll be going now, son,” he said presently. “Write to me once you get there.”

 

I watched him walk away. After a few steps he turned back to look at me.

 

“Go on in!” he called. “There’s no one in the compartment.”

 

When his back disappeared among the bustling crowd I went in and sat down, and my eyes were wet again.

    

The last few years father and I have been moving from place to place, while things have been going from bad to worse at home. When he left his family as a young man to look for a living, he succeeded in supporting himself and did extremely well. No one could have foreseen such a come-down in his old age! The thought of this naturally depressed him, and as he had to vent his irritation somehow, he often lost his temper over trifles. That was why his manner towards me had gradually changed. But during these last two years of separation he has forgotten my faults and simply wants to see me and my son. After I came north he wrote to me:

 

“My health is all right, only my arm aches so badly I find it hard to hold the pen. Probably the end is not far away. “

 

When I read this, through a mist of tears I saw his blue cotton-padded gown and black jacket once more as his burly figure walked away from me. Shall we ever meet again?

 

(杨宪益、戴乃迭 译)

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