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The Way to Rainy Mountain
雨山行
N·Scott Momaday
N·斯科特·莫馬迪
A single knoil rises out of the plain in Oklahoma, north and west of the Wichita Range. For my people, the Kiowas, it is an old landmark, and they gave it the name Rainy Mountain. The hardest weather in the world is there. Winter brings blizzards, hot tornadic winds arise in the spring, and in summer the prairie is an anvil's edge. The grass turns brittle and brown, and it cracks beneath your feet. There are green belts along the rivers and creeks, linear groves of hickory and pecan, willow and witch hazel. At a distance in July or August the steaming foliage seems almost to writhe in fire. Great green-and-yellow grasshoppers are everywhere in the tall grass, popping up like corn to sting the flesh, and tortoises crawl about on the red earth, going nowhere in the plenty of time. Loneliness is an aspect of the land. All things in the plain are isolate; there is no confusion of objects in the eye, but one hill or one tree or one man. To look upon that landscape in the early morning, with the sun at your back, is to lose the sense of proportion. Your imagination comes to life, and this, you think, is where Creation was begun.
一座孤零零的小山丘在俄克拉荷馬的平原上拔地而起，西面和北面蜿蜒綿亙著維奇塔山脈，在我們克爾瓦人看來(lái)，這是個(gè)古老的地標(biāo)，被命名為雨山，那里有世界上最?lèi)毫拥奶鞖狻６居斜╋L(fēng)雪狂哮，春季又會(huì)刮起熱的旋風(fēng)，夏季的草原如同鐵砧一塊，草變得脆弱枯黃，在人的腳下劈啪作響，河流和小溪的沿岸有幾條綠帶，那是由山核桃樹(shù)、柳樹(shù)和金縷梅組成的狹長(zhǎng)的樹(shù)叢，七八月份從遠(yuǎn)處看著冒著蒸汽的樹(shù)葉就像在火中痛苦地扭動(dòng)。大個(gè)兒的黃綠色的蚱艋蔓延在高高的草叢中的各個(gè)地方，像爆米花一樣冷不防地蹦起叮人，烏龜在紅土地上爬行，大部分時(shí)間哪兒都不去，孤獨(dú)是這片土地的一部分。平原上的一切都是疏離開(kāi)來(lái)的，所見(jiàn)之物不會(huì)混雜在一起，而是清晰可辨，一目了然。淸晨你再觀看這片大地的景致，此時(shí)太陽(yáng)在你的背后冉冉升起，你會(huì)失去事物的比例感。想象力開(kāi)始活躍起來(lái)，你會(huì)認(rèn)為這就是上帝開(kāi)始創(chuàng)世紀(jì)的地方。
I returned to Rainy Mountain in July. My grandmother had died in the spring, and I wanted to be at her grave. She had lived to be very old and at last infirm. Her only living daughter was with her when she died, and I was told that in death her face was that of a child.
我在七月里回到了雨山。我祖母在春季去世，我想去她的墓地看看。她很長(zhǎng)壽，最后因年邁體弱而去世。她去世的時(shí)候她唯一健在的女兒陪伴在她的身邊。我聽(tīng)說(shuō)在去世的時(shí)候她的臉就如同一張孩子的臉。
I like to think of her as a child. When she was born, the Kiowas were living that last great moment of their history.
我喜歡把她想象成一個(gè)孩子。她出生時(shí)，克爾瓦人正處于他們歷史上鼎盛時(shí)代的末期。
