And she would tell him about the lovely music that came out of a box, and all the nice games you could play, and the delicious things to eat and drink, and the light that came when you pressed a little thing in the wall, and the pictures that you could hear and feel and smell, as well as see, and the pink and green and blue and silver houses as high as mountains, and everybody happy and no one ever sad or angry, and another box for making nice smells, and every one belonging to every one else, and the boxes where you could see and hear what was happening at the other side of the world, and babies in lovely clean bottles–everything so clean,and no nasty1 smells, no dirt at all–and people never lonely, but living together and being so jolly2 and happy, like the summer dances here in Malpais, but much happier, and the happiness being there every day, every day. …
她告诉他从一个盒子里放出来的好听的音乐,好玩的、好吃的。好喝的东西;在墙上一个东西上一按,就会发出亮光;还有图画,不光是看得见,而且还听得见,摸得着,闻得出;还有一种盒子,能够发出愉快的香味;还有山那么高的房子,粉红色的,绿色的,蓝色的,银灰色的。那儿每个人都非常快活,没有人会伤心或者生气。每个人都属于每个其他的人。还有那些盒子,在那儿你可以看见和听见世界那一边发生的事情,还有瓶子里的可爱的小婴儿——一切都那么干净,没有臭味,没有肮脏,人们从来不会孤独,大家在一起快快活活地过日子,像在这儿马尔佩斯开夏令舞会时一样。只是快活得多,而且每天都快活,每天都快活……
He listened by the hour.
他一小时一小时地听着。
And sometimes, when he and the other children were tired with too much playing, one of the old men of the
pueblo3 would talk to them, in those other words, of the great
Transformer4 of the World;and of the long fight between Right Hand and Left Hand, between Wet and Dry; of Awonawilona, who made a great fog by thinking in the night, and then made the whole world out of the fog; of Earth Mother and Sky Father; of Ahaiyuta and Marsailema, the twins of War and Chance; of Jesus and Pookong; of Mary and Etsanatlehi, the woman who makes herself young again; of the Black Stone at Laguna and the Great Eagle and Our Lady of Acoma.
有时他跟别的孩子们玩腻了,村子里的老人也会用另外的语言对他们讲故事。讲世界的伟大的改造者;讲左手跟右手、干和湿之间的长期斗争;讲晚上一想就想出了大雾,然后又把全世界从雾里救出来的阿沃纳微罗那;讲地母和天父;讲战争与机遇的孪生子阿海雨塔和玛塞列蚂;讲耶稣和菩公;讲玛利和让自己青春重现的哀擦那雷喜;讲拉古纳的黑石头和阿扣马的大鹰和圣母。
Strange stories, all the more wonderful to him for being told in the other words and so not
fully5 understood.
全是些离奇的故事,因为是用另一种语言讲的,不大听得懂,所以特别好听。
Lying in bed, he would think of Heaven and London and Our Lady of Acoma and the rows and rows of babies in clean bottles
他常躺在床上想着天堂和伦敦、阿扣马圣母和一排排清洁的瓶子里的婴儿。
and Jesus flying up and Linda flying up and the great
Director6 of World Hatcheries and Awonawilona.
耶稣飞上天,琳组飞上天,还有世界孵化中心的伟大主任和阿沃纳微罗那。
Lots of men came to see Linda. The boys began to point their fingers at him.
许多男人来看琳妲。孩子们开始用指头指他。
In the strange other words they said that Linda was bad; they called her names he did not understand, but that he knew were bad names.
他们用那另外一种陌生语言说琳妲是坏女人。他们叫了她一些名字,他听不懂,却明白都是坏名字。
One day they sang a song about her, again and again.
有一天他们唱了她一个歌,唱了又唱。
He threw stones at them.
他对他们扔石头。
They threw back; a sharp stone cut his cheek.
他们也扔石头打他,一块尖石头砸伤了他的脸。
The blood woudn't stop; he was covered with blood.
血流不止,他满身是血。
Linda taught him to read.
琳妲教他读书。
With a piece of
charcoal7 she drew pictures on the wall–an animal sitting down, a baby inside a bottle; then she wrote letters.
她用一块木炭在墙上画了些画——一只动物坐着,一个婴儿在瓶子里,然后又写些字母。
THE CAT IS ON THE
MAT8. THE TOT IS IN THE POT. He
learned9 quickly and easily.
写:小小子蹲瓶子,小猫咪坐垫子。他学得又快又轻松。
When he knew how to read all the words she wrote on the wall,
他会读墙上所有的字之后
Linda opened her big wooden box and pulled out from under those funny little red trousers she never wore a thin little book.
琳妲打开了她的大木箱,从那些她从来不穿的滑稽的小红裤下面抽出了一本薄薄的小书。