英譯現(xiàn)代散文●鳥(niǎo)巢 ◎ 肖鳳

鳥(niǎo)巢

The Bird's Nest

◎　肖鳳

◎　Xiao Feng

水泥澆筑成的塔樓和板樓，鱗次櫛比，遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)望去，仿佛是陡峭垂直的群山，構(gòu)成了大城市的獨(dú)特風(fēng)景線。然而它們的造型，僵硬呆板，不像大自然的山巒，鬼斧神工，有著美妙的線條，蘊(yùn)含著迷人的神韻。

Rows of cement tower buildings and prefabs, looking from afar like groups of steep mountains, are a unique sight in big cities. They are stiff and stereotyped in form, unlike real mountains which are a masterwork of nature with beautiful lines and implicit enchanting grace.

不過(guò)，生活在北京市的平民百姓，如果能夠在這灰色的或者綠色的，或者別的什么顏色的高樓里，擁有一個(gè)屬于自己的空間，不論是大是小，只要它是獨(dú)立的，能夠無(wú)拘無(wú)束地生活著，也就滿足了。

Nevertheless, the common people of Beijing will be content with housing accommodation, big or small, in a high-rise of gray, green or any other color, where they can enjoy the ease and privacy of their own home.

有時(shí)走在馬路上，仰首遙望居住的那座樓宇，找到第17層那幾扇屬于自己和自己親人的窗戶，就覺(jué)得那個(gè)叫做“家”的地方，其實(shí)更像一個(gè)“鳥(niǎo)巢”。因?yàn)樗椒秸?，像一個(gè)匣子，雖然它被夾在第16層與第18層之間，卻總是覺(jué)得它好像是被高高地吊在半空中，上不著天，下不著地。作為人類的家園，它似乎是太高了一點(diǎn)兒。

Sometimes, while strolling in the street, I raise my head to gaze far ahead at the building where I live. As I identify my window on the 17th floor, I realize what we call our“home”is in fact more like a“bird's nest.”It's cubical like a box. Sandwiched in between the 16th and the 18th floor, it's like something hanging high up in mid-air, touching neither the sky nor the earth. Apparently, it's a bit too high for a human domicile.

因此常常羨慕鳥(niǎo)兒，它們能夠自由自在地飛翔，如果它們把巢筑在第17層上面，也能舒展開(kāi)自己的雙翼，款款地飛回去。而且還能站在自己的巢里，優(yōu)哉游哉地鳥(niǎo)瞰人群。可是我沒(méi)有翅膀，如果我要回到自己的“鳥(niǎo)巢”，必須借助樓里的電梯。而電梯又受制于電的有無(wú)，或有沒(méi)有故障(它常有故障)，以及開(kāi)電梯的小姐是否坐在崗位上。不像鳥(niǎo)兒那般自由，一切由它自己做主，想要出門就出門，想要?dú)w巢就歸巢。

Therefore, I often envy birds their ability to fly freely. If they had a nest built on the 17th floor of our building, they could also fly back to it light-heartedly and then stand enjoying a leisurely view of crowds milling about in the streets. But, unfortunately, I have no wings. So I have to use the elevator in the building to get back to my“nest.”And, mind you, that depends upon the uninterrupted supply of electric power, the trouble-free condition of the elevator (which often has troubles) and the presence of the girl elevator operator on duty. Unlike birds, I can't always act as I think fit, leaving or coming back to my“nest”freely as I please.

坐在窗前的寫字臺(tái)前伏案工作，會(huì)忽然聽(tīng)見(jiàn)“咕，咕，咕”的悅耳聲音，抬頭一望，原來(lái)是兩只白色的鴿子站在窗外的窗沿上，正在親昵地對(duì)話。我不愿驚擾它們，便靜靜地坐在那里，欣賞它們的漂亮形體與溫柔姿態(tài)。待它們親熱地談得夠了，就會(huì)轉(zhuǎn)過(guò)小巧的頭顱，用它們那雙明亮的小眼睛，與我對(duì)視。每逢這時(shí)，我就很想告訴它們，我是多么地喜歡鴿子，畢加索筆下的那只名鴿，其實(shí)遠(yuǎn)不如真實(shí)的鴿子美麗。我還會(huì)產(chǎn)生錯(cuò)覺(jué)，不知是這對(duì)鴿子還是自己，正住在“鳥(niǎo)巢”里，也不知我與它們是否同類。它們的小腦袋里想些什么，我一無(wú)所知，反正是等到它們流連得夠了，就展翅飛翔，飛回到屬于它們自己的巢里，那個(gè)鳥(niǎo)巢比我的“鳥(niǎo)巢”平方米略少，不過(guò)也是懸在半空，懸在對(duì)面那座塔樓的一家住戶的陽(yáng)臺(tái)上。

Sometimes, sitting at my desk before the window, I will suddenly hear a soft cooing sound and, looking up, I find a pair of white doves billing and cooing on the outer windowsill. Unwilling to alarm them, I will sit quietly admiring their elegant shape and gentle carriage. At the end of their rendezvous, they will turn their heads and exchange stares with me, their tiny eyes glistening. I will, on such occasions, be very eager to let them know how I love doves and that the famous dove painted by Picasso is far less beautiful than real doves. I will feel confused as to who should be the real dweller of the“nest”— the pair of doves or me, and whether we are of the same kind. I don't know what thoughts they have in their tiny brains. Anyway, after enjoying themselves to their heart's content, they will fly back to the nest of their own. It is somewhat smaller than mine by several square meters, but is also hanging in midair, over the balcony of a residence in the opposite tower building.

除了鴿子之外，也有麻雀造訪我的窗臺(tái)?；蛘咭恢唬蛘邇芍?，或者更多。它們嘰嘰喳喳，跳跳蹦蹦，全然不顧有人正從窗戶的另一面望著它們，很像一群喜愛(ài)游玩的活潑孩子。它們的家不知筑在何處，好像比鴿子的家距離遠(yuǎn)些。

In addition to doves, sparrows also frequent my windowsill. They will come singly, in pairs or groups, chirping and hopping about like playful kids, totally impervious to any peeper behind the window. The whereabouts of their home is unknown, but apparently it is farther than that of doves.

這些客人光顧我的“鳥(niǎo)巢”，讓第17層的高空有了魅力。有時(shí)站在窗戶里面向外望去，常常看見(jiàn)鳥(niǎo)兒們?cè)诖巴怙w翔，這種景象使自己幾乎忘記了是被圍困在水泥筑成的方格子里。

The visit of these guests to my“nest”has lent great charm to the 17th floor. Often, when I see birds flying beyond my window, I will forget I am living in the prison cell of a cement-poured home.

可是，只要俯首下望，大城市的單調(diào)景色就會(huì)一目了然——馬路很像一條灰色的帶子，形形色色的汽車和無(wú)軌電車像大大小小的甲殼蟲(chóng)，慢慢地向前蠕動(dòng)，很久才能走到視線之外。近處是深灰色的屋頂。遠(yuǎn)處是層層疊疊的樓群。

But, if I stoop to look down, I'll see immediately how insipid the city is. The streets stretch like grey ribbons. It takes quite a while for cars of all descriptions and trolleybuses to move along slowly like beetles of various sizes until they are out of sight. Nearer in sight are dull grey rooftops, and farther on stand row upon row of buildings.

綠色的樹(shù)木像珍寶，令人愛(ài)不釋“目”，使人更加向往大自然。很想變成一只鳥(niǎo)，從這座“鳥(niǎo)巢”中飛出去，飛到森林中去，飛到大海邊去，飛到崇山峻嶺中去，飛到一切有花有草有樹(shù)有水，惟獨(dú)沒(méi)有水泥和汽車尾氣的地方去。去享受一下沒(méi)有污染的清新空氣，去享受一下沒(méi)有噪音的寧?kù)o氛圍，去享受一下沒(méi)有撒過(guò)漂白粉的清澈溪水，去尋找一個(gè)沒(méi)有是非，沒(méi)有煩擾，沒(méi)有摩擦，沒(méi)有爭(zhēng)權(quán)奪利，沒(méi)有勾心斗角，沒(méi)有爾虞我詐的干凈去處。

Green trees are so lovely that we can scarcely take our eyes off them. I wish I could become a bird so that I could fly off from this“nest”to the forest, the sea, the mountain, or to any place with flowers, grass, trees and water, but without cement and tail exhaust. It would be a place where I could enjoy unpolluted fresh air, quiet atmosphere free from noise-pollution, pure water from a limpid brook. It would be a clean place without discord, disturbance, friction, scramble for power and gain, intrigue and mutual deception.

《鳥(niǎo)巢》的作者是女作家肖鳳(1937—　)，北京人，原名趙鳳翔。1959年畢業(yè)于北京師范大學(xué)中國(guó)語(yǔ)言文學(xué)系，現(xiàn)為北京廣播學(xué)院電視系教授。著有《蕭紅傳》、《廬隱傳》、《冰心傳》以及散文集《韓國(guó)之旅》、《肖鳳散文選》等。