(中英)現(xiàn)代散文:故鄉(xiāng)的雨 Rain in My Old Home

Rain in My Old Home

故鄉(xiāng)的雨

◎ Tang Tao

◎　唐　弢

Spring in the south is known to be rainy. During this season, it never rains there but it remains wet for seven or eight days on end. Dwellers in Shanghai, who usually do not feel the need for rain, will be bored with having to confine themselves in their close quarters when outside it is gloomy with rain. While in the open, seeing no mountains, nor lakes, nor rain-drenched soft green leaves, you'll find nothing comparable to a fine day. Sometimes, worse still, a rich man's car flashing past may splash you all over with mud.

江南的春天素稱多雨，一落就是七八天①。住在上海的人們，平日既感不到雨的需要，一旦下雨，天氣是那么陰沉，誰(shuí)也耐不住悶在狹小的家里②；可是跑到外面，沒有山，沒有湖，也沒有經(jīng)雨的嫩綠的葉子，一切都不及晴天好；有時(shí)闊人的汽車從你身旁馳過(guò)，還得帶一身泥污回來(lái)。

I remember when I first came to Shanghai to attend school six or seven years ago, I used to be so very busy with my homework that I often had to sit up late into the night. As it happened to be a rainy year, I was often disturbed by the pitter-patter of rain beating down against the window and roof. Indeed, I dislike rain with no less intensity than the elderly gentleman Qi Ming⑨, who sits about moaning about the wet weather all day in his study, over the doorway of which hangs a horizontal board bearing an inscription in his own hand, "Distressing-Rain Study".

記得六七年前初來(lái)上海讀書，校里的功課特別忙，往往自修到午夜；那年偏又多雨，淅淅瀝瀝，打窗飄瓦，常常擾亂我看書的情緒。我雖然不像豈明老人③那樣額其齋曰：“苦雨”，天天坐在里面噓氣④，但也的確有點(diǎn)“深惡而痛絕之”的念頭。

But that's something which can be experienced in Shanghai only. I'll never forget the days when I enjoyed the spring rain in my native place as a small child. I would go upstairs to take a distant look. The faraway mountains were veiled in a misty rain. The villages were now visible, now invisible. The wet open country was fresh and serene. And the rainy evening was even more lovely. One spring, together with two companions, I rowed a small boat to a townlet ten li away to see a village opera. At midnight, after the performance was over, we got caught in a rain on the way home. The boat made its way slowly and our faces were hardly distinguishable by the dim light of the lantern. Rustles were heard as the boat rubbed its body against the newly grown green grass by the river bank. The rain beating on the awning gave off a pleasant sound, as if with musical rhythm and cadence. My companions began to sing, to the accompaniment of the drip-drop, the local folk song In a Boat by a Bridge on a Rainy Night. It was truly fascinating.

可是這種事情只在上海才會(huì)有。少時(shí)留居家鄉(xiāng)，當(dāng)春雨像鵝毛般落著的時(shí)候，登樓眺望，遠(yuǎn)處的山色被一片煙雨籠住，村落恍惚，若有若無(wú)⑤，雨中的原野新鮮而又幽靜，使人不易忘懷！尤其可愛的是夜間。不知哪一年春天，我和兩個(gè)同伴，搖著小船到十里外一個(gè)鎮(zhèn)上看社戲，完場(chǎng)已是午夜，歸途遇雨，船在河塘中緩緩前進(jìn)，燈火暗到辨不出人面，船身擦著河岸新生的茅草，發(fā)出沙沙的聲音。雨打?yàn)跖瘢茡P(yáng)疾徐，如聽音樂，如聞節(jié)拍，和著同伴們土著的歌謠⑥，“河橋風(fēng)雨夜推篷”，真夠使人神往。

In recent years, living, as I do, in a big city remote from my old home, I invariably feel homesick listening to the harsh, monotonous drip, drip, drip of the rain. O even the sound of rain has changed, to say nothing of the affairs of human life!

這幾年投荒⑦到都市，每值淫雨，聽著滯澀枯燥的調(diào)子⑧，回念故鄉(xiāng)景色，覺得連雨聲也變了。人事的變遷，更何待說(shuō)呢！

唐弢出生于浙江省鎮(zhèn)海縣的一個(gè)農(nóng)民家庭。故鄉(xiāng)與童年給他的散文創(chuàng)作提供了豐富的素材。他寫于1933年的處女作《故鄉(xiāng)的雨》便是敘述自己身處城市重溫故鄉(xiāng)景色與童年快樂的小品散文。