下载掌阅APP，畅读海量书库
立即打开
Great misfortunes do not affect me very much, said John Bridelle, an old bachelor who passed for a sceptic. I have seen war at quite close quarters; I walked across corpses without any feeling of pity. The great brutal facts of nature, or of humanity, may call forth cries of horror or indignation, but do not cause us that tightening of the heart, that shudder that goes down your spine at sight of certain little heartrending episodes.
大灾大难不会让我感到伤悲，老单身汉约翰·布里德尔如是说道，他被认为是一个怀疑论者。我曾经近距离地目睹过战争，从尸体上走过时也没有感到丝毫的同情。大自然或者人类的残忍的真相可能会使我们发出可怕和愤怒的叫声，但是它不会让我们的内心感到紧张，也不会像看到有些令人伤心的小事那样使我们感到一阵寒颤。
The greatest sorrow that anyone can experience is certainly the loss of a child, to a mother; and the loss of his mother, to a man. It is intense, terrible, it rends your heart and upsets your mind; but one is healed of these shocks, just as large bleeding wounds become healed. Certain meetings, certain things half perceived, or surmised, certain secret sorrows, certain tricks of fate which awake in us a whole world of painful thoughts, which suddenly unclose to us the mysterious door of moral suffering, complicated, incurable; all the deeper because they appear benign, all the more bitter because they are intangible, all the more tenacious because they appear almost factitious, leave in our souls a sort of trail of sadness, a taste of bitterness, a feeling of disenchantment, from which it takes a long time to free ourselves.
一个人所能经历的最大的悲哀莫过于做母亲的失去自己的孩子，做儿女的失去自己的母亲。这种痛苦是强烈的、可怕的，它撕裂你的心，拨乱你的思绪。但是一个人可以从这些打击中恢复过来，就像流血的大伤口都可以被治愈一样。然而，一些相遇，一些有所觉察或者猜到的事情，一些藏在心里的伤悲，一些命运的捉弄，会激起我们许许多多苦痛的想法，会在我们面前突然打开那扇神秘的大门，让我们看见种种错综复杂、无法治愈的精神痛苦。这些痛苦正因为看上去是轻微的，才越发深刻；正因为它们是触摸不到的，才更加激烈；正因为它们看上去几乎是虚假的，所以也就更顽强。这些痛苦在我们心头留下一丝悲哀，留下一种苦味，留下一份清醒。我们需要很长的时间才能从这些感觉中摆脱出来。
I have always present to my mind two or three things that others would surely not have noticed, but which penetrated my being like fine, sharp incurable stings.
别人可能不会注意的那么两三件事，却经常浮现在我的脑海中，它们就像细小尖锐又不可治愈的刺痛一样，刺进我的身体。
You might not perhaps understand the emotion that I retained from these hasty impressions. I will tell you one of them. She was very old, but as lively as a young girl. It may be that my imagination alone is responsible for my emotion.
你可能不能理解这些短暂的印象留给我的感觉。我会告诉你们其中的一件事。她很老了，但却活泼得像个年轻的姑娘。也许仅仅是我的想象力让我深受触动。
I am fifty. I was young then and studying law. I was rather sad, somewhat of a dreamer, full of a pessimistic philosophy and did not care much for noisy cafes, boisterous companions, or stupid girls. I rose early and one of my chief enjoyments was to walk alone about eight o'clock in the morning in the nursery garden of the Luxembourg.
我五十岁了。当年我还年轻，正在学习法律。我很忧伤，也有点爱幻想，有着十分悲观的人生观。我不太关注吵闹的咖啡厅，喧闹的伙伴或者愚蠢的女孩。我起得很早。让我最享受的一个活动，就是早上八点钟左右独自一人在卢森堡的苗圃里散步。
You people never knew that nursery garden. It was like a forgotten garden of the last century, as pretty as the gentle smile of an old lady. Thick hedges divided the narrow regular paths, —peaceful paths between two walls of carefully trimmed foliage. The gardener's great shears were pruning unceasingly these leafy partitions, and here and there one came across beds of flowers, lines of little trees looking like schoolboys out for a walk, companies of magnificent rose bushes, or regiments of fruit trees.
你们这些人永远不会知道那个苗圃。它像被遗忘的上个世纪的花园，像一个老妇人优雅的笑容一样优美。浓密的篱笆将整齐狭窄的小路隔开——这些静谧的小路夹在两面精心修剪的叶墙之间。园丁用大剪刀不停地修剪着这些繁茂的叶墙。到处都能看到花坛，看到像出来散步的小学生那样整齐的一排排小树，看到成片的美丽的玫瑰花丛和成行的果树。
An entire corner of this charming spot was inhabited by bees. Their straw hives skillfully arranged at distances on boards had their entrances—as large as the opening of a thimble—turned towards the sun, and all along the paths one encountered these humming and gilded flies, the true masters of this peaceful spot, the real promenaders of these quiet paths.
在这个迷人的地方，有一个角落完全被蜜蜂占据着。它们的稻草蜂房精巧地排列在远处的木板上，这些蜂房都有开口——如顶针的小孔——向着阳。一路上都是金黄色的蜜蜂，嗡嗡叫着，它们是这个静谧的地方真正的主人，是这些幽静小径上真正的宣传者。
I came there almost every morning. I sat down on a bench and read. Sometimes I let my book fall on my knees, to dream, to listen to the life of Paris around me, and to enjoy the infinite repose of these old—fashioned hedges.
我几乎每天早上都来这里。我坐在长椅上读书。有时我把书放在膝盖上，去遐想、去聆听我周围的巴黎的生活、去享受在这些古老篱笆的无限宁静。
But I soon perceived that I was not the only one to frequent this spot as soon as the gates were opened, and I occasionally met face to face, at a turn in the path, a strange little old man.
但苗圃门一打开，我很快就发现，常来这个地方的并不只是我一个人。在小路的拐角处，我偶尔会迎面碰到一个奇怪的小老头。
He wore shoes with silver buckles, knee—breeches, a snuff—colored frock coat, a lace jabot, and an outlandish gray hat with wide brim and long—haired surface that might have come out of the ark.
他穿着一双有银鞋扣的鞋子、一条齐膝短裤、一件黄褐色礼服大衣，戴着一条花边饰带和一顶古怪的灰色宽边长绒帽子，那帽子恐怕是个古董。
He was thin, very thin, angular, grimacing and smiling. His bright eyes were restless beneath his eyelids which blinked continuously. He always carried in his hand a superb cane with a gold knob, which must have been for him some glorious souvenir.
他长得很瘦，脸庞瘦削，喜欢做鬼脸，总是保持微笑。他那双明亮的眼睛总是四处张望，眼皮总是不停地眨巴。他的手里总是拿着一根镶金圆头的高级拐杖，那一定是他的某个光荣的纪念品。
This good man astonished me at first, then caused me the intensest interest. I watched him through the leafy walls, I followed him at a distance, stopping at a turn in the hedge so as not to be seen.
起初这个好人让我感到非常吃惊，后来他激起了我的浓厚兴趣。我透过叶子墙看他，与他保持一定的距离，跟在他的后面，在篱笆路的拐角处停了下来，以免被他发现。
And one morning when he thought he was quite alone, he began to make the most remarkable motions. First he would give some little springs, then make a bow; then, with his slim legs, he would give a lively spring in the air, clapping his feet as he did so, and then turn round cleverly, skipping and frisking about in a comical manner, smiling as if he had an audience, twisting his poor little puppet—like body, bowing pathetic and ridiculous little greetings into the empty air. He was dancing.
有天早上，他以为只有自己一个人，所以他就开始做出非常异常的动作。开始他只是小步跳了几下，然后鞠了个躬；接着，他用那细长的双腿在空中来了个利落的跳跃，同时还用手击打自己的脚；然后他又开始伶俐地旋转，又跳又闹，举止滑稽，像面对观众那样面带微笑，扭动着他那木偶似的身体，朝着虚无的空气微微点头致意，既可怜又可笑。他在跳舞。
I stood petrified with amazement, asking myself which of us was crazy, he or I.
我惊奇得呆住了，我自问我们俩之间是谁疯了，要么是我要么是他。
He stopped suddenly, advanced as actors do on the stage, then bowed and retreated with gracious smiles, and kissing his hand as actors do, his trembling hand, to the two rows of trimmed bushes.
他突然停了下来，像舞台上的演员那样向前走了几步，然后鞠躬，接着又面带优雅的笑容，退了场，同时，他像演员那样用颤抖的手给了两排修剪过的灌木丛一个飞吻。
Then he continued his walk with a solemn demeanor.
然后，他又继续散步，举止严肃。
After that I never lost sight of him, and each morning he began anew his outlandish exercises.
从那之后，他就再也没有离开过我的视线。每天清晨，他都会重新做起他那奇怪的动作。
I was wildly anxious to speak to him. I decided to risk it, and one day, after greeting him, I said:
我迫不及待地想和他说话。我决定冒一次险，有一天，在问候他之后，我说：
"It is a beautiful day, monsieur. "
“天气很好啊，先生。”
He bowed.
他鞠了个躬。
"Yes, sir, the weather is just as it used to be. "
“是的，先生，这天和往常一样好。”
A week later we were friends and I knew his history. He had been a dancing master at the opera, in the time of Louis XV. His beautiful cane was a present from the Comte de Clermont. And when we spoke about dancing he never stopping talking.
一周以后我们成了朋友，我知道了他的故事。他曾经是路易十五时期歌剧院的一个舞蹈大师。他那漂亮的拐杖是克莱蒙伯爵送给他的礼物。每次我们一谈起舞蹈，他就滔滔不绝。
One day he said to me:
一天他对我说：
"I married La Castris, monsieur. I will introduce you to her if you wish it, but she does not get here till later. This garden, you see, is our delight and our life. It is all that remains of former days. It seems as though we could not exist if we did not have it. It is old and distingue, is it not? I seem to breathe an air here that has not changed since I was young. My wife and I pass all our afternoons here, but I come in the morning because I get up early. "
“先生，我的妻子叫拉·卡斯特里。如果你愿意，我会把你介绍给她认识，不过她过会儿才会来。你看到的这个花园是我们的快乐、我们的生命。它是过去的日子唯一剩下的东西了。倘若没有它，我们似乎就活不下去。它古老而又高雅，不是吗？我现在呼吸的空气，似乎和我年轻时的一样，一直没有什么变化。我的妻子和我会在这里度过整个下午，但是我起得早，所以我一早就会到这里。”
As soon as I had finished luncheon I returned to the Luxembourg, and presently perceived my friend offering his arm ceremoniously to a very old little lady dressed in black, to whom he introduced me. It was La Castris, the great dancer, beloved by princes, beloved by the king, beloved by all that century of gallantry that seems to have left behind it in the world an atmosphere of love.
一吃完中午饭，我就回到卢森堡苗圃。没多久我就看见我的朋友，很正式地伸出手臂，让一位身材瘦小、身着黑衣的老妇挽着。他向这位十分小巧的老人介绍了我。她就是著名的舞蹈家拉·卡斯特里，曾受王公贵族的爱戴，受国王的青睐，被那仿佛只剩下爱情气息的整个风雅的时代宠爱过。
We sat down on a bench. It was the month of May. An odor of flowers floated in the neat paths; a hot sun glided its rays between the branches and covered us with patches of light. The black dress of La Castris seemed to be saturated with sunlight.
我们坐在一张长椅上。那时是五月。整洁的小径上弥漫着花香，树叶间滑动着炙热的太阳光线，大片的阳光洒在我们身上。拉·卡斯特里的黑色裙子好像浸透在阳光里。
The garden was empty. We heard the rattling of vehicles in the distance.
花园里空荡荡的。我们听见远处车子的咔嗒咔嗒声。
"Tell me, " I said to the old dancer, "what was the minuet? "
“告诉我，” 我对那个老舞蹈家说， “什么是小步舞？”
He gave a start.
他吓了一跳。
"The minuet, monsieur, is the queen of dances, and the dance of queens, do you understand? Since there is no longer any royalty, there is no longer any minuet. "
“先生，小步舞是舞中王后，是王后们跳的舞，你能理解吗？自从没有了皇室，也就不再有小步舞了。”
And he began in a pompous manner a long dithyrambic eulogy which I could not understand. I wanted to have the steps, the movements, the positions, explained to me. He became confused, was amazed at his inability to make me understand, became nervous and worried.
他炫耀地抒发起一大段我不能理解的热情洋溢的颂词。我想让他给我讲一下步法、动作和姿势。他开始感到困惑，很吃惊他自己不能让我理解，变得有点紧张和忧虑。
Then suddenly, turning to his old companion who had remained silent and serious, he said:
然后，他突然转向他那一直沉默严肃的老伴，说：
"Elise, would you like—say—would you like, it would be very nice of you, would you like to show this gentleman what it was?”
“埃莉斯，你愿意——我的意思是——你是否愿意，如果你愿意就太好了，你愿意给这位先生展示一下什么是小步舞吗？”
She turned eyes uneasily in all directions, then rose without saying a word and took her position opposite him.
她不安地看了看四周，然后什么也没说，站到了他的对面。
Then I witnessed an unheard—of thing.
接着我目睹了前所未闻的事情。
They advanced and retreated with childlike grimaces, smiling, swinging each other, bowing, skipping about like two automaton dolls moved by some old mechanical contrivance, somewhat damaged, but made by a clever workman according to the fashion of his time.
他们前进后退，像孩子那样搞怪，互相微笑，摆动对方，弯腰鞠躬，在附近蹦蹦跳跳，好像是由某个古老机器开动的两个跳舞的木偶，这个机器虽然有点损坏，但可以看出是从前一个心灵手巧的工匠按当时的方法制作的。
And I looked at them, my heart filled with extraordinary emotions, my soul touched with an indescribable melancholy. I seemed to see before me a pathetic and comical apparition, the out—of—date ghost of a former century.
我看着他们，一种特殊的感情占据着我的内心，一种难以言表的忧郁触动着我的灵魂。我似乎看到眼前有一个过时的上世纪的幽灵，可怜而又滑稽。
They suddenly stopped. They had finished all the figures of the dance. For some seconds they stood opposite each other, smiling in an astonishing manner. Then they fell on each other's necks sobbing.
他们突然停了下来。他们已经跳完了所有的规定动作。有那么几秒钟，他们就那样面对面地站着，惊讶地互相微笑着。接着他们抱在一起呜咽。
I left for the provinces three days later. I never saw them again. When I returned to Paris, two years later, the nursery had been destroyed. What became of them, deprived of the dear garden of former days, with its mazes, its odor of the past, and the graceful windings of its hedges?
三天后我离开这里去了别的省。我再也没有见过他们。两年后，当我再次回到巴黎，那个苗圃已经被毁掉了。昔日亲爱的花园有着迷宫般的小径，弥漫着回忆的芳香，还有优美迂回的篱笆。没有了这个花园，他们会变成什么样呢？
Are they dead? Are they wandering among modern streets like hopeless exiles? Are they dancing—grotesque spectres—a fantastic minuet in the moonlight, amid the cypresses of a cemetery, along the pathways bordered by graves?
他们去世了吗？他们会像绝望的流亡者一样正游荡在现代的街道上吗？他们是在跳——一对奇怪的幽灵——迷人的小步舞吗，在这月光下，某个公墓的柏树间，墓旁的小路边？
Their memory haunts me, obsesses me, torments me, remains with me like a wound. Why? I do not know.
有关他们的记忆萦绕着我，占据着我，折磨着我，像伤口一样留在我身上。为什么？我不知道。
No doubt you think that very absurd?
无疑，你觉得那很荒谬吧？