雙語 ● Childhood　童 年

Childhood　童 年

◎ Lev Tolstoy

Happy, happy, never—returning time of childhood! How can we help loving and dwelling upon its recollections? They cheer and elevate the soul, and become to one a source of higher joys.

幸福的，幸福的，一去不復返的童年啊！叫我們怎能不去珍愛，不去回憶童年的美好呢？童年的回憶讓我心情舒暢，精神振奮，它是我無上樂趣的源泉。

Sometimes, when dreaming of bygone days, I fancy that, tired out with running about, I have sat down, as of old, in my high arm-chair by the tea-table. It is late, and I have long since drunk my cup of milk. My eyes are heavy with sleep as I sit there and listen. How could I not listen, seeing that Mamma is speaking to somebody, and that the sound of her voice is so melodious and kind? How much its echoes recall to my heart!

有時回憶起逝去的日子，我就會想起這樣的情景：跑累了，我就坐在茶桌旁的那張高背椅上休息；時候不早了，我早早地把那杯牛奶喝完，然后就那樣閉上睡意濃濃的雙眼，靜靜地坐在那兒聆聽。我怎么能不聽呢？媽媽正在和別人說話，她的聲音是那么的美妙、親切。她的聲音給了我源自心靈深處的啟發(fā)！

With my eyes veiled with drowsiness I gaze at her wistfully. Suddenly she seems to grow smaller and smaller, and her face vanishes to a point; yet I can still see it—can still see her as she looks at me and smiles. Somehow it pleases me to see her grown so small. I blink and blink, yet she looks no larger than a boy reflected in the pupil of an eye. Then I rouse myself, and the picture fades. Once more I half-close my eyes, and cast about to try and recall the dream, but it has gone, I rise to my feet, only to fall back comfortably into the armchair.

我用睡眼朦朧的雙眼渴望地凝視著她。忽然，她的臉龐變得越來越小，最后只有一個圓點那么大?？晌胰耘f能夠看見她的臉龐，她看了我一眼，沖我微微一笑。有的時候，我卻喜歡看見她變成那么一點點大。當我瞇上眼睛時，我眼中的她就變得比孩子還小了。忽然，我動了一下，眼前的情景消失了。我再次半睜著雙眼拼命想讓夢境重現(xiàn)，但它永遠消失了。我站了起來，接著無奈地坐回到那張高背椅上。

“There! You are failing asleep again, little Nicolas,” says Mamma. “You had better go to by-by.”

“你又睡著了，小尼古拉斯，”媽媽說，“你最好上樓睡。”

“No, I won’t go to sleep, Mamma,” I reply, though almost inaudibly, for pleasant dreams are filling all my soul. The sound sleep of childhood is weighing my eyelids down, and for a few moments I sink into slumber and oblivion until awakened by some one. I feel in my sleep as though a soft hand were caressing me. I know it by the touch, and, though still dreaming, I seize hold of it and press it to my lips. Every one else has gone to bed, and only one candle remains burning in the drawing-room.

“不，媽媽，我不想睡覺，”我答道，聲音小得幾乎都聽不見，因為那個美妙的夢境正充滿著我的腦海。小孩子天生入睡快，我很快就閉上了雙眼，一轉眼的功夫就進入了夢鄉(xiāng)，一直睡到我被喚醒為止。睡夢中我總能感覺到一雙溫柔的手撫摸著我。單憑這種感覺，我就知道那是她，即使在夢中，我也會不由自主地拉住這雙手，把它緊緊地放在自己的唇邊。所有人都回房睡覺了，只留下一根蠟燭在客廳里。

Mamma has said that she herself will wake me. She sits down on the arm of the chair in which I am asleep, with her soft hand stroking my hair, and I hear her beloved, well-known voice say in my ear: “Get up, my darling. It is time to go by-by.”

媽媽說過她會親自把我喚醒的。她就坐在我睡覺的那張高背椅的扶手上，用她那雙溫柔的手撥弄著我的頭發(fā)。接著，我的耳邊傳來一個充滿愛意的、熟悉的聲音：“親愛的，該起來了，我們上樓睡吧！”

No envious gaze sees her now. She is not afraid to shed upon me the whole of her tenderness and love. I do not wake up, yet I kiss and kiss her hand.

沒有任何羨慕的眼光為我見證這一切。她不惜將自己所有的溫柔和愛都給了我。我沒有醒來，只是親了親她的手。

“Get up, then, my angel.”

“起來呀，我的小天使?！?

She passes her other arm round my neck, and her fingers tickle me as they move across it. The room is quiet and in half-darkness, but the tickling has touched my nerves and I begin to awake. Mamma is sitting near me—that I can tell—and touching me; I can hear her voice and feel her presence. This at last rouses me to spring up, to throw my arms around her neck, to hide my head in her bosom, and to say with a sigh: “Ah, dear, darling Mamma, how much I love you!”

她用一只手托著我的脖子，另一只手的手指不斷在我身上搔癢。房間里很安靜，只有少許的光亮，半明半暗的。她的搔癢仿佛觸碰到了我的每條神經(jīng)，我醒了。媽媽就坐在我的身旁——我知道——輕撫著我。我能聽到她的聲音，感覺到她的存在。這讓我猛得一下坐起身來，雙手環(huán)住她的脖子，一頭扎進她的懷里，并撒嬌道：“我最親愛的媽媽，我好愛你呀！”

She smiles her sad, enchanting smile, takes my head between her two hands, kisses me on the forehead, and lifts me on to her lap.

她笑了，那是一種多愁善感卻又充滿魅力的微笑。她用雙手將我抱起來，親了一下我的額頭，讓我坐在她的膝蓋上。

“Do you love me so much, then?” she says. Then, after a few moments’ silence, she continues: “And you must love me always, and never forget me. If your Mamma should no longer be here, will you promise never to forget her—never, Nicolinka?” And she kisses me more fondly than ever.

“你真的有這么愛我嗎？”她說。她沉默了一會兒，接著說：“那你無時無刻都要愛著我，永遠都不要忘記我。如果媽媽不在了，你能保證永遠記住她嗎？尼古連卡，你要永遠記住她?！痹捯魟偮洌徒o了我一個無比溫存的吻。

“Oh, but you must not speak so, darling Mamma, my own darling Mamma!” I exclaim as I clasp her knees, and tears of joy and love fall from my eyes.

“噢！親愛的媽媽，我最親愛的媽媽，請別這么說！”我緊緊抓住她的雙膝，大聲說道。這時，我的眼中泛起了淚光，那是喜悅的淚水，那是充滿愛的淚水。

How, after scenes like this, I would go upstairs, and stand before the ikons, and say with a rapturous feeling, “God bless Papa and Mamma!” and repeat a prayer for my beloved mother which my childish lips had learnt to lisp-the love of God and of her blending strangely in a single emotion!

之后，我回到樓上，站在神像前，虔誠地禱告著：“上帝啊，請保佑我的爸爸媽媽吧！”當我用自己那稚嫩的聲音為摯愛的母親重復禱告時，我對上帝的愛居然神奇般地與我對媽媽的愛交織在一起。

After saying my prayers I would wrap myself up in the bedclothes. My heart would feel light, peaceful, and happy, and one dream would follow another. Dreams of what? They were all of them vague, but all of them full of pure love and of a sort of expectation of happiness. I remember, too, that I used to think about Karl Ivanitch and his sad lot. He was the only unhappy being whom I knew, and so sorry would I feel for him, and so much did I love him, that tears would fall from my eyes as I thought, “May God give him happiness, and enable me to help him and to lessen his sorrow. I could make any sacrifice for him!” Usually, also, there would be some favorite toy—a china dog or hare—stuck into the bed-corner behind the pillow, and it would please me to think how warm and comfortable and well cared—for it was there. Also, I would pray God to make every one happy, so that every one might be contented, and also to send fine weather tomorrow for our walk. Then I would turn myself over on to the other side, and thoughts and dreams would become jumbled and entangled together until at last I slept soundly and peacefully, though with a face wet with tears.

禱告結束后，我會鉆進被窩，心里覺得既輕松，又平靜，又幸福。一個夢接著一個夢。那這些夢都是關于什么呢？它們都會漸漸消逝不見，但是，這些夢承載著滿滿的愛和對幸福的企盼。我依稀記得，自己曾經(jīng)回憶起卡爾·伊凡內奇和他的悲慘命運。他是我唯一認識的苦命人。我為他感到難過，同時我也深愛著他。就這樣想著想著，我的眼眶泛起了淚光：“祈求上帝賜予他幸福，讓我?guī)退麥p輕一些痛苦吧！我愿為他做任何事情。”接著，我會拿出心愛的玩具——一只陶瓷小狗或者一只小兔——把它們藏在枕頭后的角落里，好好地看著它們溫暖、舒適地躺在那里。我接著禱告，求上帝賜給每個人幸福，讓所有人都稱心如意，明天散步會有個好天氣。然后我翻了個身，臉上已被淚水浸濕。最后我沉沉地、靜靜地睡著了。

Do in after life the freshness and light-heartedness, the craving for love and for strength of faith, ever return which we experience in our childhood’s years? What better time is there in our lives than when the two best of virtues—innocent gaiety and a boundless yearning for affection—are our sole objects of pursuit?

童年時代所擁有的那些朝氣蓬勃的精神，輕松愉快的心情，對愛和信仰的追求——還會存在嗎？當天真的喜悅和對愛的無限追求——這兩種最崇高的美德成為我們一生的追求時，又會有什么比這兩者更美好？

Where now are our ardent prayers? Where now are our best gifts—the pure tears of emotion which a guardian angel dries with a smile as he sheds upon us lovely dreams of ineffable childish joy? Can it be that life has left such heavy traces upon one’s heart that those tears and ecstasies are for ever vanished? Can it be that there remains to us only the recollection of them?

如今，那些真誠的企盼在哪兒呢？如今，我們最好的禮物——感動的淚水——又在哪兒呢？天使會擦干這些淚水，微笑著把充滿兒童樂趣的美夢帶給我們。難道生活所留下的只是苦難的印跡，卻把淚水與歡喜永遠地帶走了？難道留給我們的就只是回憶？

超多雙語閱讀，盡在聽力課堂