散文翻译:席慕蓉·《孤独的树》

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摘要

The Lonely Tree

席慕蓉《孤独的树》英语版

孤独的树

席慕蓉

 

在我二十二岁那年的夏天,我看见过一棵美丽的树。

 

那年夏天,在瑞士,我和诺拉玩得实在痛快。她是从爱尔兰来的金发女孩,我们一起在福莱堡大学的暑期法文班上课,到周末假日,两个人就去租辆脚蹬车漫山遍野地乱跑,附近的小城差不多都去过了。最喜欢的是把车子骑上坡顶之后,再顺着陡峭弯曲的公路往下滑行,我好喜欢那样一种令人屏息眩目的速度,两旁的树木直逼我们而来,迎面的风带着一种呼啸的声音,使我心里也不由得有了一种要呼啸的欲望。

 

夏日的山野清新而又迷人,每一个转角都会出现一种无法预料的美丽。

 

那一棵树就是在那种时刻里出现的。

 

刚转过一个急弯,在我们眼前,出现了一座不算太深的山谷,在对面的斜坡上,种了一大片的林木。

 

大概是一种有计划的栽种,整片斜坡上种满了一样的树,也许是日照很好,所以每一棵都长得枝叶青葱,亭亭如华盖,而在整片倾斜下去一直延伸到河谷草原上的绿色里面,唯独有一棵树和别的不同。

 

站在行列的前面,长满了一树金黄的叶片,一树绚烂的圆,在圆里又有着一层比一层还璀璨的光晕。它一定坚持了很久了,因为在树下的草地上,也已圆圆地铺上了一圈金黄色的落叶,我虽然站在山坡的对面,也仍然能够看到刚刚落下的那一片,和地上原有的碰在一起的时候,就觉得后者已经逐渐干枯褪色了。

 

天已近傍晚,四野的阴影逐渐加深,可是那一棵金黄色的树却好像反而更发出一种神秘的光芒。和它后面好几百棵同样形状、同样大小,但是却青翠逼人的树木比较起来,这一棵金色的树似乎更适合生长在这片山坡上,可是,因为自己的与众不同使它觉得很困窘,只好披着一身温暖细致而又有光泽的叶子,孤独地站在那里,带着一种不被了解的忧伤。

 

诺拉说:“很晚了。我们回去吧。”

 

“可是,天还亮着呢。”我一面说,一面想走下河谷,我只要再走近一点,再仔细看一看那棵不一样的树。

 

但是,诺拉坚持要回去。在平日,她一直是个很随和的游伴,但是,在那个夏天的午后,她的口气却毫无商量余地。

 

于是,我终于没有走下河谷。也许诺拉是对的,隔了这么多年,我再想起来,觉得也许她是对的。所有值得珍惜的美丽,都需要保持一种距离。如果那天我走近了那棵树,也许我会发现叶的破裂,树干的斑驳,因而减低了那第一眼的激赏。可是,我永远没走下河谷,(我这一生再无法回头,再无法在同一天,同一刹那,走下那个河谷再爬上那座山坡了。)于是,那棵树才能永远长在那里,虽然孤独,却保有了那一身璀璨的来自天上的金黄。

 

又有哪一种来自天上的宠遇,不会在这人世间觉得孤独的呢?

The Lonely Tree 

Hsi Muren

 

In the summer when I was twenty-two, I had an encounter with a beautiful tree.

 

That summer, in Switzerland, I was having a great time with Nora. She was a blonde-haired girl from Ireland, and we were attending a French Summer Program at the University of Freibourg. Come weekends and holidays, the two of us would roam the hills and fields on our rented bicycles. We had already visited all the quaint little towns in the vicinity. We loved to ride our bikes all the way up to the top of the hill, and then slide down the winding roads. I loved the breathtaking and dizzying speed, with the trees flanking the two sides of the road flashing by our eyes and the whooshing sound of the wind in our ears. I would be filled with a desire to howl.

 

The hills and fields of summer were refreshing and enchanting. Unexpected beauty lurked around every corner.

 

The tree appeared in such a moment.

 

Right after a hairpin curve, right before us, a valley appeared, and on the opposite slope was an expanse of trees.

 

The trees were intentionally planted, because the entire slope was filled with the same trees. Thanks to sunshine galore, the trees were lush and green, handsome and majestic. The verdant green extended all the way to the green grass in the valley. Yet, one solitary tree stood out.

 

It stood alone in front of all the other trees, glistening gold. The leaves resembled glittering orbs, halo after halo of warm gold. It must have been there for a long time already, because there was already a blanket of golden leaves on the grass beneath the tree. Though I was standing on the hill on the other side, I could still see the leaf that had just fallen. It fell into the pile of fallen leaves that had already started to fade and shrivel.

 

It was getting dark, and the shadows in the wilderness lengthened. But the golden tree emitted a mysterious glow. Compared to the hundreds of verdantly green trees of uniform shape and size, the solitary tree of gold seemed to be more suited to grow on this hill. But because it looked so different, it seemed to be embarrassed. With its warm, delicate and glowing leaves, it stood there all alone, filled with a sadness of not being understood.

 

Nora said, “It’s late, let’s go back.”

 

“But there is still light,” I said, as I continued my walk down towards the valley. I wanted to get closer to the tree, to examine the tree that was so different.

 

But Nora insisted upon going back. On most days, she is the most accommodating travel mate. But on that summer afternoon, there was no room for bargaining in her tone.

 

Thus, I never go to walk into the valley.

 

Maybe Nora was right. Now, many years later, I still think maybe she was right. One has to keep beauty that is meant to be cherished at a distance. If I had walked up close to that tree, I might have discovered the flaws in the leaves and the stains in the trunk. That would have tainted my first appreciative impression of the tree. But I never got to walk into the valley. (I can never go back to that moment in time to walk into the valley and then climb back up.) Thus, the tree will be there forever, all alone, yet all aglitter with heavenly sheen.

 

Those who are singularly blessed by heaven seem destined to stand all alone in this world. Isn’t that often the case?

 

(吴敏嘉 译)

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