|字體：小 中 大|
The Sight of My Father’s Back
我與父親不相見已有二年餘了，我最不能忘記的是他的背影。那年冬天，祖母死 了，父親的差使也交卸了，正是禍不單行的日子，我從北京到徐州，打算跟父親奔喪 回家。到徐州見著父親，看見滿院狼藉的東西，又想起祖母，不禁簌簌地流下眼淚。 父親說：「事已如此，不必難過，好在天無絕人之路！」
I haven’t seen my father for over two years, but the sight of his back still lingers on my mind. During that winter, a spell of double whammy, my grandmother died and my father lost his job; I left for XuZhou from Beijing, planning to hasten home with my father for my grandma’s funeral. In XuZhou, the sight of him and a whole lot of mess in the yard reminded me of grandma, and made my tears start to trickle down. Father comforted me and said, “Don’t be sad; things already were. On the bright side, every cloud has a silver lining.”
After having returned home, father pawned, pledged and sold something for money to recoup the deficits; he also borrowed some for the funeral. Partly for the funeral and partly for my father’s joblessness, the family was in reduced circumstances. When all settled, he wanted to seek a job in Nanjing, and I wanted to transfer to a school in Beijing, so we went together.
到南京時，有朋友約去遊逛，勾留了一日﹔第二日上午便須渡江到浦口，下午上車北去。父親因為事忙，本已說定不送我，叫旅館裡一個熟識的茶房陪我同去。他再 三囑咐茶房，甚是仔細。但他終於不放心，怕茶房不妥貼；頗躊躇了一會。其實我那 年已二十歲，北京已來往過兩三次，是沒有甚麼要緊的了。他躊躇了一會，終于決定 還是自己送我去。我兩三回勸他不必去﹔他只說：「不要緊，他們去不好！」
I sojourned at Nanjing for one day, sightseeing with a friend. Next morning I had to cross over the Yangtze River to Pu-Kou for the northbound train. Father was tied up then and at first he could not see me off, so he asked a waiter whom he was familiar with to escort me to the station. He kept repeating all the details to the waiter, and still was unable to rest assured lest the waiter should miss anything, and dilly-dallied awhile. I was twenty already and travelling to Beijing was no big deal to me because I had done it a couple of times. Finally, he decided he should accompany me to the station. I tried very hard to dissuade him from doing that, but he only said, “It’s okay. I’ll do it!”
我們過了江，進了車站。我買票，他忙著照看行李。行李太多了，得向腳夫行些 小費，才可過去。他便又忙著和他們講價錢。我那時真是聰明過份，總覺他說話不大 漂亮，非自己插嘴不可。但他終於講定了價錢；就送我上車。他給我揀定了靠車門的 一張椅子；我將他給我做的紫毛大衣鋪好坐位。他囑我路上小心，夜裡要警醒些，不要受涼。又囑托茶房好好照應我。我心裡暗笑他的迂；他們只認得錢，托他們直是白托！而且我這樣大年紀的人，難道還不能料理自己麼？唉，我現在想想，那時真是太 聰明了。
We ferried the River and entered the station. I went to purchase the ticket while he was busy tending to the luggage. There were so many pieces of luggage that we had to give some tips to porters for carrying them through. Then he was busy haggling with the porters over the tips. I was a little bit too cocky at that moment, interrupting the bargaining, thinking he wasn’t smart enough in talks. Eventually he got the deal and sent me to the cabin, picking up a seat near the door, laying down the purple-wool overcoat that he’d made for me. Then he urged me be cautious en route, be wary in the night, and not catch a cold, and entrusted me to the waiter, telling him to take good care of me. I snickered at my father, “whom do you think the waiter is? He works only for money! Aren’t I old enough to take care of myself?” Alas! Now I wish I hadn’t been that cocky then.
我說道：「爸爸，你走吧。」他往車外看了看，說，「我買幾個橘子去。你就在 此地，不要走動。」我看那邊月臺的柵欄外有幾個賣東西的等著顧客。走到那邊月臺 ，須穿過鐵道，須跳下去又爬上去。父親是一個胖子，走過去自然要費事些。我本來 要去的，他不肯，只好讓他去。我看見他戴著黑布小帽，穿著黑布大馬褂，深青布棉 袍，蹣跚地走到鐵道邊，慢慢探身下去，尚不大難。可是他穿過鐵道，要爬上那邊月臺，就不容易了。他用兩手攀著上面，兩腳再向上縮；他肥胖的身子向左微傾，顯出 努力的樣子。這時我看見他的背影，我的淚很快地流下來了。我趕緊拭幹了淚，怕他看見，也怕別人看見。我再向外看時，他已抱了朱紅的橘子往回走了。過鐵道時，他先將桔子散放在地上，自己慢慢爬下，再抱起桔子走。到這邊時，我趕緊去攙他。他和我走到車上，將橘子一股腦兒放在我的皮大衣上。於是撲撲衣上的泥土，心裡很輕 鬆似的，過一會說：「我走了，到那邊來信！」我望著他走出去。他走了幾步，回過 頭看見我，說：「進去吧，裏邊沒人。」等他的背影混入來來往往的人裡，再找不著 了，我便進來坐下，我的眼淚又來了。
I said to him, “Dad, it’s time you went home.” He took a glance outside the cabin and said, “I’ll buy you some tangerines. You stay put.” I noticed that over the rails of the platform there were several vendors waiting for their clients. To approach the opposite platform one should jump down first, cross over the railroads, then climb up. My father was a fat man, so it would be physically demanding for him to go over there. I should go instead, but he insisted doing it by himself, so I had to let him. Being clad in a traditional Chinese jacket and a cotton robe of midnight blue color, with a black cloth-cap on, he staggered to the railroad side, groping his way down without too much ado. But when he crossed over the railroad and tried to climb up to the platform, that wasn’t easy indeed. He gripped the upper end with both hands, and then lifted his feet up inch by inch. His paunchy body slanted to the left, laboring apparently. The sight of his back reduced me to tears instantly, but I soon dried the tears not to let him or anyone else see me cry. When I cast my eyes outdoors again, I saw he was returning with an armful of bright red tangerines. There he reached the railroad, laying down the tangerines first, groping him down from the platform, then picked up the tangerines and went on. I hastened to meet him, giving him a hand, when he was approaching the train. In the cabin again, he dropped the tangerines completely on my leather overcoat. Seemly relaxed, he whisked the dirt off his clothes. Later on, he said, “Goodbye, son. Write me when you get there,” and my eyes followed him walking out. He turned around after several steps and said to me, “Get in there. No one is in the cabin.” Until the sight of his back faded in the drove of passers-by and finally vanished did I return to my seat. Here came my tears again.
近幾年來，父親和我都是東奔西走，家中光景是一日不如一日。他少年出外謀生 ，獨立支持，做了許多大事。哪知環境卻如此頹唐！他觸目傷懷，自然情不能自己。 情郁於中，自然要發之於外；家庭瑣屑便往往觸他之怒。他待我漸漸不同往日。但最近兩年不見，他終於忘卻我的不好，只是惦記著我，惦記著我的兒子。我北來後，他寫了一封信給我，信中說道，「我身體平安，惟膀子疼痛利害，舉箸提筆，諸多不便 ，大約大去之期不遠矣。」我讀到此處，在晶瑩的淚光中，又看見那肥胖的，青布棉袍，黑布馬褂的背影。唉！我不知何時再能與他相見！
During recent years, father and I were running about constantly, unable to settle down, and the conditions of my family were getting worse and worse every day. He earned his living at the very youth, and supported himself independently. He accomplished many feats, big ones, but heaven knows the adverse circumstances eventually befell him. In retrospect, he would have felt sad about what he’d encountered and could not help himself. Naturally his pent-up grievance would outbreak sometimes; so the family trifles often threw him a fit. Gradually he did not treat me as dearly as he used to. But after having not seen each other for a couple of years, finally he’d forgotten my peccadilloes; instead, his thoughts always lingered on me and on my son. When I was in the North, he wrote me a letter in which he said, “I am well except my arm is killing me so much that I can hardly raise it up to write. I think there won’t be many days left for me now.” When I read these lines, once more I saw the sight of my father’s back, the fatty shape, the midnight-blue lobe, and the black-clothed jacket, through the sparkling tears gleamed in my eyes. Heaven pity me, I don’t know when I will see him again.
October 1925, Beijing.
Translated by Retiredbum
March 26, 2010 at Taipei
|( 不分類｜不分類 )|