试译：布鲁诺·舒尔茨《书》

童末

<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt;text-align:center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">书</span><span lang="EN-US"> <p></p></span></b></p><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt;text-align:center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">Ⅰ</span><span lang="EN-US"><br style="mso-special-character:line-break" /><br style="mso-special-character:line-break" /><p></p></span></b></p><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt;text-indent:21pt;mso-char-indent-count:2.0"><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">我<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">仅仅</b>称它为书，不使用任何限定条件或修饰语，在这样的弃绝和克制中，是一声无助的叹息，面对卓绝之物的不可计量我沉默投降，因为没有一个词，一句暗语能闪光，能嗅出空气，或能随着那阵恐惧的战栗漂荡，任何对那类无名事物的察觉，那第一口舌尖处的品尝都超出我们欣喜的能力。对那些无限的事物，那超乎预料的壮美来说，形容词的感染力，或者暗语的自恃能有什么用处呢？读者，这部小说</span><a title="" href="http://www.heilan.com/forum/post.php?action=new&amp;boardid=6#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id:ftn1"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-special-character:footnote"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:'times new roman';mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa">[1]</span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">所依赖的真正的读者，当我深深地看进他的眼睛，从我的眼眸底部闪现出和他相同的光亮，不管怎样，他肯定能理解我。在那短暂而有力的一瞥中，在那匆匆的握手中，他将领会，同意，预感——在彻底辨认出的欣喜之中闭上眼睛。因为，其实，在把我们隔开的桌面底下，难道我们不是秘密地握紧另一个人的手吗？</span><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</font></span></span><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">书……在童年黎明时分的某个地方，这是人生中的第一个黎明，地平线闪着柔和的光芒。它就躺在父亲的书桌上，在一片饱满的光耀之中。这时父亲很安静，聚精会神，用舔过的手指耐心摩挲着印花纸上隆起的线条，直到白纸开始像蒙了雾一样模糊起来，图案开始在一阵幸福的期盼中隐约出现，突然，手指剥去了碎薄纸片，孔雀翎毛上的眼睛露了出来，接着是它那熏染的彩色边缘，我的目光在一阵神魂颠倒中跌向一个有着令人敬畏的颜色的纯净黎明，那是一片由最纯粹的天蓝色构成的，奇妙的湿气。</span><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </font></span></span><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">噢，那胶卷上的磨损——噢，那壮丽景象的入侵——噢充满幸福的春天——噢父亲……</span><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </font></span></span><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">有时父亲从书上抬起身，离开房间。在这样的时刻我被剩下，和它在一起，风从页间经过，幻象升起。</span><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </font></span></span><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">当风无声地翻过那些页面，把色彩和形象刮跑，震颤沿着文字的纵列跑过，从字母之间放出一群群燕子和云雀。接着它升入空气中，一边一页接一页地散开，温柔地，使风景布满空气，让风景饱食各种色彩。有时它睡着了，风悄悄地，像吹动一朵洋蔷薇那样围绕它，一片接一片地吹开它的叶子，就像眼皮叠着眼皮，所有的都是合上的，天鹅绒般，被哄着入睡，在它们的精髓内，深深藏起它们天蓝色的瞳孔，它们的孔雀之核——一窝哼唱着的鸟儿们的，吱吱响的巢。</span><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</font></span></span><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">那发生在很久以前。那时母亲还没有加入我们。一整天我都和父亲一起度过，在我们的房间内，在那些日子里那个房间就像是一整个世界。</span><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</font></span></span><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">台灯上挂下来的棱柱形水晶珠链使房间注满星星点点的色彩；一道彩虹散落在所有的角落里；当台灯的灯链被拉开，整个房间就在彩虹的碎片中流动起来，如同七颗行星的大气层，一边自转，一边从彼此身旁经过。我喜欢站在父亲的双腿间，像抱起石柱那样抱紧其中的一条。他有时写信。我坐在他的书桌上，满怀欣喜地仔细察看他潇洒的签名，盘旋缠绕的字体就像花腔女歌手的颤音。微笑从墙纸内发芽；眼睛孵出；筋斗翻了起来。为了逗我笑，父亲从一根长长的吸管里，把肥皂泡吹进那带虹彩色泽的天地之间。它们碰上墙后弹回，炸裂开，把它们的色彩留在空气中。</span><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </font></span></span><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">然后母亲进来了，明亮的清晨牧歌结束了。母亲的拥爱抚让我着迷，我忘记了父亲；我的生活沿着一条新的、不一样的轨道隆隆驶去，那里不再有假期和奇迹，要不是那个夜晚和那次梦境，我可能已经永远忘记了书。</span><span lang="EN-US"> <p></p></span></p><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><p><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;</font></p></span></p><p><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;</font></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><p><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;</font></p></span></p><p><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;</font></p><p></p><div style="mso-element:footnote-list"><br clear="all" /></div><font face="Times New Roman"><div style="mso-element:footnote-list"><hr align="left" width="33%" size="1" /></div></font><p class="MsoFootnoteText" align="left" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt;mso-element:footnote"><a title="" href="http://www.heilan.com/forum/post.php?action=new&amp;boardid=6#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id:ftn1"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-special-character:footnote"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:9pt;font-family:'times new roman';mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa">[1]</span></span></span></span></span></a><font size="2"><span lang="EN-US"><font face="Times New Roman"> </font></span><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'">……这部小说……：本篇和《天才时代》最初被构思成舒尔茨已遗失的小说——《弥赛亚》的部分章节，这里指的大概是本篇的其余部分。<br /><br /><br />选自布鲁诺·舒尔茨《时间沙漏招牌下的疗养院》（<span lang="EN-US"><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">The Sanatorium at the Sign of the Hourglass</font></span>），译自英译本，by <a href="mailto:johncurrandavis@gmail.com" target="_blank"><font face="Times New Roman">John Curran Davis</font></a>&nbsp;（<a href="http://www.schulzian.net/">http://www.schulzian.net/</a>）<br /><br /></span></font></p><font size="2"><span style="font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:'times new roman';mso-hansi-font-family:'times new roman'"><p class="MsoFootnoteText" align="left" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt;mso-element:footnote"><br /><strong><font size="3">第一章原文：</font></strong></p><h1>The Book</h1><p>&nbsp;</p><h2>I<br /></h2><p>I SIMPLY call it the Book, without qualifications or epithets, and in this abstinence and restraint there is a helpless sigh, a silent capitulation in the face of the immeasurableness of the transcendent, for no word, no allusion can glisten, scent the air, or drift with that shudder of terror, any inkling of that thing without a name, the very first taste of which on the tip of the tongue exceeds our capacity for rapture. For what can the pathos of adjectives or the haughtiness of epithets avail against that measureless thing, that magnificence beyond reckoning? The reader, in any case, the true reader on whom <a name="novel_back"></a>this novel^{<a href="http://www.schulzian.net/translation/sanatorium/book1.htm#novel">*</a>} relies, will surely understand when I look deep into his eyes and shine far inside with that very same radiance. In that short but forceful look, in a fleeting grip of the hand, he will apprehend, accept, anticipate — and he will close his eyes in rapture at that profound recognition. For indeed, under the table that separates us, do we not all secretly hold one another by the hand?<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Book... Somewhere at childhood’s daybreak, on the first dawn of life, the horizon shone with its gentle light. It lay in its full glory on Father’s desk while Father, quietly engrossed in it, patiently rubbed the ridge of those decals with a licked finger until the blank paper began to mist, to blur and loom with blissful anticipation, and it suddenly peeled away shreds of tissue-paper and disclosed a peacock-eye and mascaraed rim, and my gaze fell swooning into a virgin dawn of godly colours, into a wonderful dampness of the purest azures.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Oh, the wearing through of that film — Oh, that invasion of splendour — O blissful spring — O Father...<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sometimes Father would rise from the Book and leave the room. I was left alone with it at such times, and a wind moved through its pages, and visions arose.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And as the wind silently turned those pages over, blowing the colours and figures away, a shudder ran through the columns of its text, releasing flocks of swallows and skylarks from among the letters. And then it rose into the air, scattering page after page, and gently suffused the landscape, which it sated with its hues. Sometimes it slept and the wind quietly blew it around like a cabbage rose, and opened its leaves sheet after sheet, one eyelid under another, all of them blind, velvety and lulled to sleep, concealing deep within them, in their essence, their azure pupil, their peacock core — a screeching nest of humming-birds.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That was very long ago. Mother had not yet joined us. I spent the days alone with Father, in our room, as great as the world in those days.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsprismatic crystals dangling from the lamp filled the room with scattered colours; a rainbow was dispersed over all the corners; and as the lamp turned on its chains, the whole room meandered in fragments of the rainbow, as if the spheres of the seven planets, spinning around, were each passing one another by. I liked to stand between Father’s legs, clasping them at either side like columns. He sometimes wrote letters. I sat on his desk and observed with rapture his flourished signature, convoluted and swirling like the trills of a coloratura soprano. Smiles budded in the wallpaper; eyes hatched out; somersaults turned. To amuse me, Father blew soap bubbles into the rainbow-hued space from a long straw. They bounced off the walls and burst, leaving their colours in the air.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Then Mother arrived, and that bright, early idyll ended. Seduced by Mother’s caresses, I forgot about Father; my life trundled along a new, different track without holidays and without wonders, and I might have forgotten about the Book forever, had it not been for that night and that dream.</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p class="link_item">&nbsp;</p><h2>Notes</h2><p class="footnote"><a name="novel"></a><b>* … this novel…</b> this appears to be a textual leftover from the time when this story and ‘The Gifted Epoch’ were originally conceived as parts of Schulz’s lost novel, <i>The Messiah</i>. [<a href="http://www.schulzian.net/translation/sanatorium/book1.htm#novel_back">RETURN</a>]</p><p class="MsoFootnoteText" align="left" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt;mso-element:footnote"><strong></strong>&nbsp;</p></span></font>&nbsp;

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童末

<p><br />Sometimes it slept and the wind quietly blew it around like a cabbage rose, and opened its leaves sheet after sheet, one eyelid under another, all of them blind, velvety and lulled to sleep, concealing deep within them, in their essence, their azure pupil, their peacock core — a screeching nest of humming-birds.<br /><br />这句里it肯定是指the Book，布鲁诺用了一群连环隐喻，one eyelid under another我认为是和前面的leaves sheet after sheet是呼应的，而且一直到sleep都是一个插入成分因为没有谓语出现；然后concealing的主语应该还是前面老远的it，也就是the Book，them是指leaves也是指eyelid(s)，后面的意思是“把它们藏在它们自己的的essence内（？）”。不知道对不对。这样分析有点儿煞风景，但不这样分析这一整句基本没法翻～<br /><br />Smiles budded in the wallpaper; eyes hatched out; somersaults turned. <br /><br />然后这句我不知道是在说什么，好像半空冒出来的前后不搭的一个“我”想象中的vision，但我不知道smiles，eyes和筋斗都是谁的？我想肯定和前句花腔女高音的颤音有关。希望明白人多指正。<br /><br /><br /></p>

Nasca

<p>我的理解错了。抱歉。</p>

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李子园

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李子园

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李子园

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童末

<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt;text-align:center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-US"><font face="Times New Roman">II<p></p></font></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><p><font face="Times New Roman">&nbsp;</font></p></span></p><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">&nbsp;&nbsp; </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">&nbsp;</span></span><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:">我曾在黑魆魆的冬季清晨醒来——自它深深的底部，在层层黑暗之下，一个阴沉沉的黎明在燃起——在忧愁和迟到的懊悔感的环绕下，伴随着一大群还只是留在我眼皮底下的朦胧的人影和迹象，我开始在头脑中看见——它并不清晰，并且盘旋环绕个不停——那本来自过去的、遗失了的书。</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:">没人明白我怎么了，还用他们的愚蠢惹恼我，我开始执意使自己变成一个讨厌鬼，开始以我的烦躁和狂热折磨我的父母。</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:">我心烦意乱又打着哆嗦，光着脚，只穿着我的长衬衫睡衣，把父亲的藏书室翻了个遍——我失望，发怒，在我受惊的听众面前无助地描述着它，我那颤抖的、摊开的手指所能描绘出的任何文字和形象都无法复制那个事物，它是不可能被描述的。为了这些混乱、矛盾的讲述，我毫不顾惜地弄得自己精疲力竭，却无能为力，只好绝望地哭泣着。</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:">他们站在我的面前，无助而困惑，为他们的无能感到羞愧。在内心深处，他们感到自己并不是没有责任。我的激烈，说出要求时不耐烦又充满怒意的语气，提供给我一种拥有正当理由的气势，一个能提出站得住脚的索求的有利地位。他们拿着各种各样的书跑回到我身边，把它们放在我手里。我怒气冲冲地把它们扔在一边。</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:">父亲把其中的一本一遍遍地推给我，那是一册又厚又重的书。我打开它——是《圣经》。在内页里我看见一大群迁徙中的动物，沿着要道涌出，分岔成不同的行列穿过一个遥远的国家；我看见天空中布满</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa">V</span><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:">字形队列和飞禽的振翅，一座巨大的、颠倒的金字塔，远处的尖顶碰上了方舟。</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:">我抬起责备的目光看向父亲：“你明白的，父亲，”我哭喊着，“你清清楚楚地明白——别保密。别回避我！这本书已经出卖了你。为什么给我这本污损过的伪经，这第一千次的抄本，笨拙的伪造？你把那本书怎么了？”</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:宋体;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;mso-ansi-language:en-us;mso-fareast-language:zh-cn;mso-bidi-language:ar-sa;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot:;times new roman&amp:;quot:">父亲移开了他的眼睛。<br /><br /><br /><h2>II</h2><p></p><p>I ONCE awoke in the dark winter dawn — deep at its bottom, under layers of darkness, a gloomy daybreak was burning — and amid distress and belated remorse, with a swarm of misty figures and signs still under my eyelids, I began to have visions, unclearly and convolutedly, of the old, lost Book.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No one understood me, and exasperated by that stupidity, I insistently began to make a nuisance of myself, and to molest my parents in my impatience and fever.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Trembling with agitation, barefoot and wearing only my nightshirt, I ransacked Father’s library — disappointed and angry, I helplessly described before my astonished audience that indescribable thing which no word, no image deliniated by my trembling, outstretched finger could replicate. I exhausted myself remorselessly in tangled and contradictory accounts, and I wept with impotent despair.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;They stood over me, helpless and confused, ashamed of their impotence. At heart, they were not guiltless. My vehemence, the tone of my demand, impatient and full of anger, lent me an air of justification, the advantage of a well founded claim. They came running back with various books, and put them into my hands. I indignantly tossed them aside.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My father pressed one of them on me over and over again, a thick and heavy volume. I opened it — it was the Bible. In its pages I saw a great migration of animals, flowing along highways, branching out into processions over a remote country; I saw a sky all in ‘V’ formations and flappings, and an enormous upturned pyramid whose distant apex touched the Ark.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I raised my reproving eyes to Father: ‘You know, Father,’ I cried. ‘You know perfectly well — don’t keep it a secret. Don’t be evasive! This book has betrayed you. Why do you give me this tainted Apocrypha, this thousandth copy, this inept falsification? What have you done with the Book?’<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Father averted his eyes.</p></span>

童末

<div class="msgheader">QUOTE:</div><div class="msgborder"><b>以下是引用<i>李子园</i>在2008-08-15 11:59:57的发言：</b><br /><p><font face="Verdana" size="2">我还觉得童末对第一句话有些误读。我加粗了字体。</font></p><p><font face="Verdana" size="2">I SIMPLY call it the Book, without qualifications or epithets, and in this abstinence and restraint there is a helpless sigh, a silent capitulation in the face of the immeasurableness of the transcendent, for <strong>no word, no allusion can</strong> glisten, scent the air, or drift with that shudder of terror, any inkling of that thing <strong>without</strong> a name, the very first taste of which on the tip of the tongue exceeds our capacity for rapture.</font></p></div><p>no表示否定可以像我那样翻。如果你的意思是必须翻成“没有……能……”<br />without我不知道哪里有误读。<br />humming-bird是蜂鸟，嗯。</p>

李子园

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李子园

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