永遠的憧憬和追求

My Longing and Yearning

蕭紅

Xiao Hong

1991年，在一個小縣城里邊，我生在一個小地主的家里。那縣城差不多就是中國的最東最北部——黑龍江省——所以一年之中，倒有四個月飄著白雪。

In 1911 I was bom into a small landlord family in a small county town in Helongjiang—China’s far northeastern province where it snowed for four months of the year.

父親常常為著貪婪而失掉了人性。他對待仆人，對待自己的兒女，以及對待我的祖父都是同樣的吝嗇而疏遠，甚至于無情。

Father was almost inhumanly avaricious. To his servants, his children and even his own father, he was just as miserly and indifferent, or heartless for tha matter.

有一次，為著房屋租金的事情，父親把房客的全套的馬車趕了過來。房客的家屬們哭著訴說著，向我的祖父跪了下來，于是祖父把兩匹棕色的馬從車上解下來還了回去。為著這匹馬，父親向祖父起著終夜的爭吵。“兩匹馬，咱們是算不了什么的，窮人，這匹馬就是命根。”祖父這樣說著，而父親還是爭吵。

Once:because a tenant failed to pay his rent, Father detained his cart and horses. The tenant’s family knelt in front of Grandpa, pleading for mercy with tears in their eyes. Grandpa unharnessed the two brown horses from the cart and gave them back to the tenant. Over this Father wrangled with him far the whole night. “Two horses don’t mean much to us,” said Grandpa, “but they are the life-blood to the poor.” Father bickered on.

九歲時，母親死去。父親也就更變了樣，偶然打碎了一只杯子，他就要罵到使人發抖的程度。后來就連父親的眼睛也轉了彎，每從他的身邊經過，我就象自己的身上生了針刺一樣；他斜視著你，他那高傲的眼光從鼻梁經過嘴角而后往下流著。

when I was nine years old Mother died and Father became worse. If you accidentally broke a small thing like a cup, he would keep throwing curses at you until you shivered all over. Later even his eyes could cast crooked glances. Whenever I passed by him, he would eye me sideways with his arrogant look streaming down the bridge of his nose and then off the comer of his laouth, making me feel as if pricked on needles.

所以每每在大雪中的黃昏里，圍著暖爐，圍著祖父，聽著祖父讀著詩篇，看著祖父讀著詩篇時微紅的嘴唇。

ln snowy evenings I would sit with Grandpa by the stove, listening to him leading poems, watching his pink lips while he was reading.

父親打了我的時候，我就在祖父的房里，一直面向著窗子，從黃昏到深夜——窗外的白雪，好象白棉花一樣飄著；而暖爐上水壺的蓋子，則象伴奏的樂器似的振動著。 祖父時時把多紋的兩手放在我的肩上，而后又放在我的頭上，我的耳邊便響著這樣的聲音：

When Father beat me, I would go to Grandpa’s room and stood by the windiow from evening till late into the night, watching the white snow falling like cotton, while the lid of the kettle over the stove clinked like a musical Instrument playing accompaniment. Grandpa would put his wrinkled hand on my shoulder and then my head, saying into my ear:

“快快長吧！長大就好了。”

“Grow quickly, my child. When you are grown, things will be better.”

二十歲那年，我就逃出了父親的家庭。直到現在還是過著流浪的生活。

At the age of twenty I fled home. Even today I am still wandering around Kke a hobo.

“長大”是“長大”了，而沒有“好”。

“Grown” as I am, but things are not any “better ”.

可是從祖父那里，知道了人生除掉了冰冷和憎惡而外，還有溫暖和愛。 所以我就向這“溫暖”和“愛”的方面，懷著永久的憧憬和追求。

However, from Grandpa I have learned that in life there is not only coldness ind hatred, but also warmth and love. For that “warmth and love I will keep longing and yearning.

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