陈丹燕 : 《弄堂: 上海人的生活底色》

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Alleys: the Flush Color in the life of the Shanghainese

Chen Danyan

It would be a real pity if you visit Shanghai without taking a walk in its alleyways. In the afternoons, before the people come back from school or work, if you randomly roam away from Shanghai’s major commercial streets and enter into a narrow one, you will immediately see a broad entrance under some parasol trees and the header of the entrance with something written on it. Sometimes it says 1902 below the arcade. Inside there are several rows of townhouses of 2 or 3 stories. The small balconies side by side are filled with warm sunshine. The glass windows deep inside reflect the passing cars in the street. Here, you are in a Shanghai alley.

Half of the residential areas in Shanghai are in such alleys and the majority of the Shanghainese live in the different variants of the alleys.

There is almost always a small convenience store at the entrance of an alley. In such an incredibly small store, all kinds of daily necessity items are shelved in a wonderfully orderly manner, from kids’ snacks, ladies’ needle kits, postal stamps to any daily necessity items one may suddenly need, you will find it here. People often come out to the store in their “homie” clothes and footwear. You can see women, wearing colorful pajamas, come to buy a pack of snack food. Their toes grip the red flip-flops whose heels are already worn down. Such scenes cannot be more ordinary to the people living in the alleys. The store keeper is usually watchful and warm-hearted. His radio is always turned on. Listening to the radio all day long, he also wants to have some real people listen to him talking. Since he has seen so many people walking back and forth in the street, or coming in and out of the alley, as long as he has some imagination, he tends to be a very street smart guy.

Until you step into a Shanghai alley, you won’t really understand the life in Shanghai, the life that is hidden behind Shanghai’s bustling commercial streets, its glittering neon lights, and its flamboyant lifestyle. The Shanghainese cherish their image very much and always keep a sleek look in the shops, restaurants, bars, and parks. However, they look totally different in the alleys.

Light music is peacefully playing and the aroma of the chicken soup escapes from the backdoor of the shared kitchen. Where the sun reaches, the residents living at the bottom pull the hemp ropes, and hang out all the quilts and sheets of the entire family. The sweet smell from the freshly washed cloths permeates the alley. If you look more closely at those colorful clothes fluttering in the air, you will recognize those are the most fashionable style of the year. You also see there is a young lady bending at the sink by the backdoor. Wearing an old shrunken woolen sweater, she is washing her waterfall like hair with a shampoo called Siphone. In the sun, hot steam rises from her wet hair. There is also a shoe repairman sitting at the entrance of the alley. He is making a tatpat sound while hitting the tiny heel of a lady’s stiletto, trying to patch it with a piece of new leather. A sleek woman sitting astride on a stool is waiting with a bare foot. They complain in unison on the poor quality of the shoes today and berate the dishonest manufacturers.

The elderly of the alley are chatting where the sun reaches. Old women are usually more reticent, whereas most old men like to accost strangers. Their favorite thing is to talk about their “salad” days.

There is always a serene and earthly atmosphere in the alleys and you can tell how the Shanghainese treasure this special atmosphere. This is the “living” color of their life. Since the 19th century, along with the birth of the first Shanghai alley named “Xing Ren Li” located near the Bund, it is neither the too flamboyant nor the too conservative Shanghainese life philosophy that emphasizes harmony and pragmatism, yet stays cool with the transient fashion.

In the mid of the 19th century, because of the rebellion of the Small Swords Society in the Chinese section of the city, many people fled to the foreign concessions. In order to make a profit from these Chinese refugees, the foreigners in the concessions copied the workers’ residences in London’s industrial areas and built 800 houses in rows. These are the precursors of the Shanghai alleys in the concessions. The real alley life began at the moment when Mayipa built Xing Ren Li in 1872.

Shanghai is a big metropolis, like the table of a chef at a restaurant with all kinds of tastes. The city was carved up by foreigners; one part became the French concession, one part became the British one and one part was reserved for the Chinese. In the suburban industrial areas, there are places developed for the residences of the workers in the factories. Although these divisions all belong to the past, they have been left in the minds of the Shanghainese. People living in different parts of Shanghai are classified into different classes, and they are not necessarily friendly to each other. They tend to alienate each other and rarely socialize. Shanghai, such a remarkable place, sometimes makes you feel that there are many small nations within it. Just like in Europe, it seems all people are the same at first glance, but when you look at them closely, you will see the seriousness of the German, the romance of the French and austereness of the Poles. People living in different parts of Shanghai also look differently. That is why even those who grew up in Shanghai and have lived in it for several decades still don’t dare to claim that they know Shanghai very well, because all they know is only one small part of Shanghai.

From the early wood houses for the refugees, to the Shikumen houses and the new style alley houses, all of them, are like blood vessel spread across Shanghai in the over 9,000 alleys, yet they all share a similar atmosphere to some degree.

These are the places where the middle class of Shanghai live. They, being the majority of the society, lead a well-off life, but are not really wealthy; they have sleek looking appearances, but without splendor; they are economical, pragmatic, prudent, never indulging themselves in excessive entertainment or luxury. They are hard working and enjoy the well-to-do life. They are progressive, expecting a better life year by year, but also very realistic, and never imagine the impossible. They are living contentedly in their own small world, but whenever they see an opportunity, they will grasp it and strive to succeed. They are not innocent people, but neither are they bad ones.

Despair is never seen in the Shanghai Alleys. Home-made dried vegetables, the recently bought soybeans are baking in the sun on the tiny balconies; in the shades below the window of the small north room, hangs the salted pork that is made of the best pork, which is peppered and covered with oil paper in case of rain. The oil paper rustles in the wind. On the windowsill, resilient succulents are planted in broken washbasins. Even during the most turbulent upheavals, the life in the alleys still goes smoothly at its own pace. This is the philosophy of the seniors, compromising, worldly, sticking to the conventional norms and values and staying lukewarm. They never impose their own opinions on the other people. All they focus on is their own conforming life.

In the evening, many aromas permeate from the open backdoors when all the families are cooking. People are coming back. The country-looking girls are busy going in and out the backdoors. These are the rush hours for those hourly maids. Country girls gain weight very easily after they arrive in Shanghai, because there are more choices of food in Shanghai, and therefore they often look chubbier than the local girls. They quietly, but efficiently work in the shared kitchen by the backdoor. Today’s maids don’t gossip as much as they used to, but neither do they know as much about how to serve the Shanghainese properly. So the sophisticated work is left to the mistress themselves, such as slicing the boiled pork, preparing the sauce for the big hairy crabs, and heating the Shaoxin yellow wine. The mistress puts everything in a big tray and brings it to their room.

After you visit a Shanghai alley, you probably will see more things then when you go to other places in Shanghai, because alleys are the most real and open space in Shanghai. People live a real life in the alleys, where even the Shanghai sophisticates wear the homie outfits and never mind fetching the mails in slippers.

弄堂: 上海人的生活底色

陈丹燕

　 要是一个人到了上海而没有去上海的弄堂走一走，应该要觉得很遗憾。下午时候，趁上班上学的人都还没有回来，随意从上海的商业大街上走进小马路，马上就可以看到梧桐树下有一个个宽敞的人口，门楣上写着什么里，有的在骑楼的下面写着1902，里面是一排排两三层楼的房子，毗临的小阳台里暖暖的全是阳光。深处人家的玻璃窗反射着马路上过去的车子，那就是上海的弄堂了。
　 整个上海，有超过一半的住地，是弄堂，绝大多数上海人，是住在各种各样的弄堂里。
　 常常在弄堂的出口，开着一家小烟纸店，小得不能让人置信的店面里，千丝万缕地陈放着各种日用品，小孩子吃的零食，老太太用的针线，本市邮政用的邮票，各种居 家日子里容易突然告缺的东西，应有尽有，人们穿着家常的衣服鞋子，就可以跑出来买。常常有穿着花睡衣来买一包零食的女人，脚趾紧紧夹着踩蹋了跟的红拖鞋， 在弄堂里人们不见怪的。小店里的人，常常很警惕，也很热心，他开着一个收音机，整天听主持人说话，也希望来个什么人，听他说说，他日日望着小街上来往的 人，弄堂里进出的人，只要有一点点想象力，就能算得上阅人多矣。
　 走进上海人的弄堂里，才算得上是开始看上海的生活，商业大街、灯红酒绿、人人体面后面的生活。上海人爱面子，走在商店里、饭店里、酒吧里、公园里，个个看上去丰衣足食，可弄堂里就不一样了。
　 平平静静的音乐开着；后门的公共厨房里传出来炖鸡的香气；有阳光的地方，底楼人家拉出了麻绳，把一家人的被子褥子统统拿出来晒着，新洗的衣服散发着香气，花 花绿绿的在风里飘，仔细地看，就认出来这是今年大街上时髦的式样；你看见路上头发如瀑的小姐正在后门的水斗上，穿了一件缩了水的旧毛衣，用诗芬在洗头发， 太阳下面那湿湿的头发冒出热气来; 还有修鞋师傅，坐在弄口，乒乒地敲着一个高跟鞋的细跟，补上一块新橡皮，旁边的小凳子上坐着一个穿得挺周正的女人，光着一 只脚等着修鞋，他们一起骂如今鞋子的质量和那卖次品鞋子的奸商。
　 还有弄堂里的老人，在有太阳的地方坐着说话。老太太总是比较沉默，老先生喜欢有人和他搭话，听他说说从前这里的事情，他最喜欢。
　 弄堂里总是有一种日常生活的安详实用，还有上海人对它的重视以及喜爱。这就是上海人的生活底色，自从十八世纪在外滩附近有了第一条叫“兴仁里”的上海弄堂，安详实用，不卑不亢，不过分地崇尚新派就在上海人的生活里出现了。
　 十九世纪五十年代，由于上海小刀会在老城厢起义，上海人开始往租界逃跑，在租界的外国人为了挣到中国难民的钱，按照伦敦工业区的工人住宅的样子，一栋栋、一排排造了八百栋房子，那就是租界弄堂的发端，到一八七二年，玛意巴建起上海兴仁里，从此，上海人开始了弄堂的生活。
　 上 海是一个大都市，大到就像饭店里大厨子用的桌布一样，五味俱全。从前被外国人划了许多块，一块做法国租界，一块做英国租界，留下一块做上海老城厢，远远的 靠工厂区的地方，又有许多人住在为在工厂做事的人开辟出来的区域里，那是从前城市的划分，可在上海人的心里觉得这样区域的划分，好像也划分出了阶级一样， 住在不同地方的人，彼此怀着不那么友好的态度，彼此不喜欢认同乡，因此也不怎么来往。这样，上海这地方，有时让人感到像里面还有许多小国家一样，就像欧 洲，人看上去都是一样的人，仔细地看，就看出了德国人的板，法国人的媚，波兰人的苦，住在上海不同地域的人，也有着不同的脸相。所以，在上海从小到大住了 几十年的人，都不敢说自己是了解上海的，只是了解上海的某一块地方。
　 从早先的难民木屋，到石库门里弄，到后来的新式里弄房子，像血管一样分布在全上海的九千多处弄堂，差不多洋溢着比较相同的气息。
　 那是上海的中层阶级代代生存的地方。他们是社会中的大多数人，有温饱的生活，可没有大富大贵；有体面，可没有飞黄腾达；经济实用，小心做人，不过分的娱乐， 不过分的奢侈，勤勉而满意地支持着自己小康的日子；有进取心，希望自己一年比一年好，可也识时务，懂得离开空中楼阁。他们定定心心地在经济的空间里过着自 己的日子，可一眼一眼地膘着可能有的机会，期望更上一层楼。他们不是那种纯真的人，当然也不太坏。
　 上海的弄堂总是不会有绝望的情绪的。小小的阳台上晒着家制干菜、刚买来的黄豆，背阴的北面亭子间窗下，挂着自家用上好的鲜肉阉的成肉，放了花椒的，上面还盖 了一张油纸，防止下雨，在风里哗哗地响。窗沿上有人用破脸盆种了不怕冷的宝石花。就是在最动乱的时候，弄堂里的生活还是有序地进行着。这里像世故老人，中 庸，世故，遵循着市井的道德观，不喜欢任何激进，可也并不把自己的意见强加于人，只是中规中矩地过自己的日子。
　 晚 上，家家的后门开着烧饭，香气扑鼻，人们回到自己的家里来，乡下姑娘样子的人匆匆进出后门，那是做钟点的保姆最忙的时候。来上海的女孩子，大都很快地胖起来，因为有更多的东西可以吃，和上海女孩子比起来，有一点肿了似的，她们默默地飞快地在后门的公共厨房里干着活，现在的保姆不像从前在这里出入的保姆那样喜欢说话，喜欢搬弄是非了。可她们也不那么会伺候上海人，所以，厨房里精细的事还是主人自己做，切白切肉，调大闸蟹的姜醋蘸料，温绍兴黄酒，然后，女主人 用一张大托盘子，送到自家房间里。
　 去过上海的弄堂，大概再到上海的别处去，会看得懂更多的东西。因为上海的弄堂是整个上海最真实和开放的空间，人们在这里实实在在地生活着，就是上海的美女，也是家常打扮，不在意把家里正穿着的塌跟拖鞋穿出来取信。

老舍的《我这一辈子》 英语 翻译 第三章

Flashbacks of My Life

Lao She

Chapter 3

Based on what I have said, it would not be hard for you to guess that I wouldn’t be able to live off my skills as a paper craftsman forever. When the times change, people flee in all directions, just like street fair visitors who are caught in a downpour. In the course of my life, it seems as if I was walking downhill all the time, and couldn’t stop. No matter how hard I wished the world would get better, I couldn’t help but continue to slide deeper and deeper into a hopeless situation. This was a total change, which didn’t leave me any room to breath, a complete change from the past. It was not just an alteration, but a gale that blew people away without any idea where they were going. Many of the lucrative businesses of my childhood had abruptly come to a dead end, and seemed not to have much of a future. I had forseen this long ago. Had it been peace time, if I had wanted, I could have opened a small shop and taken on a couple of apprentices, and easily have led a comfortable life. Luckily I didn’t go down that path. If I didn’t get at least several big orders every year, how could I possibly manage to make a living just by making paper wagons or pasting paper on ceilings? Looking over the past dozen years, did I even get one decent work order? No, so it was a wise choice I made to quit.

However, this was not the only reason that I quit. The forces of nature are not something a man can fight, just like arms can’t wrestle with legs. You are looking for trouble if you intend to fight against the changes in society. It is even more unbearable should extra misfortune befall you alone. This in turn can easily drive a person crazy to do things like drowning themselves. These occurances are not rare at all, not to mention being forced to put down his old profession and pick up a new one. Difficulties which can be endured by a group, could easily crush an individual; a rice grain is small, but it takes an ant all his strength to move it. It is the same when it comes to man. Life depends on a breath; so anything keeping you from that breath would cause desperation. Man, what a fragile creature!

My intelligence and friendliness brought me only bad fortune, which sounds absurd at first, however, it is nevertheless true. If it had not happen to me, I myself wouldn’t believe such a thing. However, misfortunes came to find me. At the time, I was practically turned into a mad man. After two or three decades, as I look back, I can laugh it off and regard it as just a story. Now I have realized, one’s benefits do not have to belong to one alone. The real benefits should also belong to the people around, just like "no man is an island". If you alone are doing well, but the people around you aren't, then the benefit can be burdensome. Then what would intelligence and friendliness matter? In retrospect, since I now understand life, I can just laugh off that event. But at that moment, how could I swallow it all so easily. I was still very young at the time.

Who does not want to be good looking? When I was young, I always dressed myself up very dashingly when I was out socializing or running errands so that no one could even tell that I was a craftsman. In the olden time, leather was very expensive, and people were not supposed to wear them at will. Nowadays, anybody who wins at the races or wins a lottery can wear a leather overcoat the next day, whether you are teenage or a 20 year old young man who has not even shaved his face yet. In the past your clothes must fit your status and age. In those days, it was already flashy looking enough if you were able to have a shirt collar on your Chinese jacket or waistcoat. I always had such a shirt collar and the jacket and waist coat were made of blue silk – the silk back then was so incredibly strong that it would take over 10 years to wear out. I became a dirty wretch when I was pasting ceilings, but once I got home and cleaned myself off, I would immediately turn into a handsome young man. I preferred to be the handsome young man to the dirty wretch. I had a dark and long braid, and a well-shaved shiny forehead. When I put on the silk waistcoat with the shirt collar, I did look like “somebody!”

What a handsome young man fears nothing more than to marry an ugly wife. Long before, I had already explicitly or implicitly hinted to the elders that either I marry a pretty girl, or I won’t get married at all. In those days, “free” marriages were obviously not the common practice, but some freedom was allowed for young men and young women to decide on their marriages. I insisted on seeing my fiancée before marriage. I was not going to be taken in by the flowery words of the matchmaker.

At the age of 20, I got married. My wife was one year younger than I. She could easily be considered a pretty girl wherever she went. I managed to see her before our engagement. I wouldn’t dare say that she was a real beauty, but she was definitely cute and perky, which fit exactly my criteria in choosing my wife. I wouldn’t have nodded agreement had she failed my test. You can very well tell from my criteria for choosing wife what kind a person I was. In those days, I was young, handsome, and capable and therefore I would never marry a homely woman.

You'd have to admit that we were a perfect match, blessed by heaven. We were both young and appealing, and neither of us were tall. Before the friends and relatives, we were like a pair of agile tops, spinning in all directions, making the seniors smile out flowers from their eyes. We competed with each other to show off our wit and charm. We were both very competetive and would do whatever it took to win a few compliments that we were the most admirable of couples. Those complements from other people increased our mutual respect and affection, as it was put, that the real heroes know how to acknowledge and respect other heroes.

I was very happy. To be honest, my parents didn’t own a big fortune, but they had a house so that I could save up the rent money. I lived in a rent-free house, with a yard full of trees and a pair of orioles that perched on the eaves. I, myself, had good skills, a wide social circle, and a lovely young wife. How could I not be happy?

As for my wife, I couldn’t find any flaws. Granted, once a while I thought she was a little wild, but which active young wife is not a little wild? She was talkative, because she was very sociable; she didn’t avoid men, but she was only enjoying the privilege of being a young wife. For the new young wives, especially the capable ones, they would naturally shake off the shyness of the young girls, and act confidently like a “woman.” You can't really call these “flaws.” Moreover, she was kind and considerate toward the elders and dutifully served them. It really seemed nothing that she was a little too familiar when with other young people. She was very outgoing and sincere, expressing her warmness to both the aged and the young. I had never blamed her for being too open.

Then she became pregnant and a mother, even prettier than before, and more confident -- I could no longer bring myself to use the word “wild” to describe her. Is there anything more attractive than a pregnant woman, or anything more lovable than a young mother? Every time I saw her sitting at the threshold, suckling the baby with her breast exposed, my love for her would only swell, and I forgot all of her wild behavior.

At the age of 24, I was already of a father of a son and a daughter. But when it comes to parenting, how much credit can a husband claim? When the husband was happy, he would lift the baby and play around; the wife did all the unpleasant work. I was not stupid. I didn’t need anyone to tell me this. Really, men are totally helpless even when they want to help the wife during childbirth or raising children. However, as long as you have understanding, you should make your wife’s life a little easier and give her more freedom. People who bully pregnant women or young mothers are real jerks. As for my wife, I gave her even more freedom after we had children. I thought that was the right thing to do.

In addition, it is said that the husband and wife are like trees, and their children are flowers. The flowers by the trees demonstrate the deep roots of the trees. Any suspicions, or distrust should be eliminated. The children would hold their mothers firmly. Therefore, even though I sometimes felt she was a little wild – and I hate to use this word – I was no longer worried, because she was already a mother.

我这一辈子

三

由前面所说过的去推测，谁也能看出来，我不能老靠着裱糊的手艺挣饭吃。象逛庙会忽然遇上雨似 的，年头一变，大家就得往四散里跑。在我这一辈子里，我仿佛是走着下坡路，收不住脚。心里越盼着天下太平，身子越往下出溜。这次的变动，不使人缓气，一变 好象就要变到底。这简直不是变动，而是一阵狂风，把人糊糊涂涂的刮得不知上哪里去了。在我小时候发财的行当与事情，许多许多都忽然走到绝处，永远不再见 面，仿佛掉在了大海里头似的。裱糊这一行虽然到如今还阴死巴活的始终没完全断了气，可是大概也不会再有抬头的一日了。我老早的就看出这个来。在那太平的年 月，假若我愿意的话，我满可以开个小铺，收两个徒弟，安安顿顿的混两顿饭吃。幸而我没那么办。一年得不到一笔大话，只仗着糊一辆车或两间屋子的顶棚什么 的，怎能吃饭呢？睁开眼看看，这十几年了，可有过一笔体面的活？我得改行，我算是猜对了。

　　不过，这还不是我忽然改了行的唯一的原因。年头儿的改变不是个人所能抵抗的，胳臂扭不过大 腿去，跟年头儿叫死劲简直是自己找别扭。可是，个人独有的事往往来得更厉害，它能马上教人疯了。去投河觅井都不算新奇，不用说把自己的行业放下，而去干些 别的了。个人的事虽然很小，可是一加在个人身上便受不住；一个米粒很小，教蚂蚁去搬运便很费力气。个人的事也是如此。人活着是仗了一口气，多喒有点事儿， 把这口气憋住，人就要抽风。人是多么小的玩艺儿呢！

　　我的精明与和气给我带来背运。乍一听这句话仿佛是不合情理，可是千真万确，一点儿不假，假 若这要不落在我自己身上，我也许不大相信天下会有这宗事。它竟自找到了我；在当时，我差不多真成了个疯子。隔了这么二三十年，现在想起那回事儿来，我满可 以微微一笑，仿佛想起一个故事来似的。现在我明白了个人的好处不必一定就有利于自己。一个人好，大家都好，这点好处才有用，正是如鱼得水。一个人好，而大 家并不都好，个人的好处也许就是让他倒霉的祸根。精明和气有什么用呢！现在，我悟过这点理儿来，想起那件事不过点点头，笑一笑罢了。在当时，我可真有点咽 不下去那口气。那时候我还很年轻啊。

　　哪个年轻的人不爱漂亮呢？在我年轻的时候，给人家行人情或办点事，我的打扮与气派谁也不敢 说我是个手艺人。在早年间，皮货很贵，而且不准乱穿。如今晚的人，今天得了马票或奖券，明天就可以穿上狐皮大衣，不管是个十五岁的孩子还是二十岁还没刮过 脸的小伙子。早年间可不行，年纪身分决定个人的服装打扮。那年月，在马褂或坎肩上安上一条灰鼠领子就仿佛是很漂亮阔气。我老安着这么条领子，马褂与坎肩都 是青大缎的——那时候的缎子也不怎么那样结实，一件马褂至少也可以穿上十来年。在给人家糊棚顶的时候，我是个土鬼；回到家中一梳洗打扮，我立刻变成个漂亮 小伙子。我不喜欢那个土鬼，所以更爱这个漂亮的青年。我的辫子又黑又长，脑门剃得锃光青亮，穿上带灰鼠领子的缎子坎肩，我的确象个“人儿”！

　　一个漂亮小伙子所最怕的恐怕就是娶个丑八怪似的老婆吧。我早已有意无意的向老人们透了个口话：不娶倒没什么，要娶就得来个够样儿的。那时候，自然还不时行自由婚，可是已有男女两造对相对看的办法。要结婚的话，我得自己去相看，不能马马虎虎就凭媒人的花言巧语。

　　二十岁那年，我结了婚，我的妻比我小一岁。把她放在哪里，她也得算个俏式利落的小媳妇；在 定婚以前，我亲眼相看的呀。她美不美，我不敢说，我说她俏式利落，因为这四个字就是我择妻的标准；她要是不够这四个字的格儿，当初我决不会点头。在这四个 字里很可以见出我自己是怎样的人来。那时候，我年轻，漂亮，作事麻利，所以我一定不能要个笨牛似的老婆。

　　这个婚姻不能说不是天配良缘。我俩都年轻，都利落，都个子不高；在亲友面前，我们象一对轻 巧的陀螺似的，四面八方的转动，招得那年岁大些的人们眼中要笑出一朵花来。我俩竞争着去在大家面前显出个人的机警与口才，到处争强好胜，只为数人夸奖一声 我们是一对最有出息的小夫妇。别人的夸奖增高了我俩彼此间的敬爱，颇有点英雄惜英雄，好汉爱好汉的劲儿。

　　我很快乐，说实话：我的老人没挣下什么财产，可是有一所儿房。我住着不用花租金的房子，院中有不少的树木，檐前挂着一对黄鸟。我呢，有手艺，有人缘，有个可心的年轻女人。不快乐不是自找别扭吗？

　　对于我的妻，我简直找不出什么毛病来。不错，有时候我觉得她有点太野；可是哪个利落的小媳 妇不爽快呢？她爱说话，因为她会说；她不大躲避男人，因为这正是作媳妇所应享的利益，特别是刚出嫁而有些本事的小媳妇，她自然愿意把作姑娘时的腼腆收起一 些，而大大方方的自居为“媳妇”。这点实在不能算作毛病。况且，她见了长辈又是那么亲热体贴，殷勤的伺候，那么她对年轻一点的人随便一些也正是理之当然； 她是爽快大方，所以对于年老的正象对于年少的，都愿表示出亲热周到来。我没因为她爽快而责备她过。

　　她有了孕，作了母亲，她更好看了，也更大方了——我简直的不忍再用那个“野”字！世界上还有比怀孕的少妇更可怜，年轻的母亲更可爱的吗？看她坐在门坎上，露着点胸，给小娃娃奶吃，我只能更爱她，而想不起责备她太不规矩。

　　到了二十四岁，我已有一儿一女。对于生儿养女，作丈夫的有什么功劳呢！赶上高兴，男子把娃 娃抱起来，耍巴一回；其余的苦处全是女人的。我不是个糊涂人，不必等谁告诉我才能明白这个。真的，生小孩，养育小孩，男人有时候想去帮忙也归无用；不过， 一个懂得点人事的人，自然该使作妻的痛快一些，自由一些；欺侮孕妇或一个年轻的母亲，据我看，才真是混蛋呢！对于我的妻，自从有了小孩之后，我更放任了 些；我认为这是当然的合理的。

　　再一说呢，夫妇是树，儿女是花；有了花的树才能显出根儿深。一切猜忌，不放心，都应该减少，或者完全消灭；小孩子会把母亲拴得结结实实的。所以，即使我觉得她有点野——真不愿用这个臭字——我也不能不放心了，她是个母亲呀。

《鸟的天堂》 巴金

A Paradise of the Birds

Ba Jin

After we finished dinner at Chen’s little school, the heat of the day had already diminished. The sun retreated behind the hills, leaving brightly colored clouds hanging in the sky, over the hills and trees.

“Let’s go boating!” Chen proposed, as we watched the mountain view by the pond in front of the school gate.

“Great,” the rest of the group answered enthusiastically.

We walked through a gravel path, and before long we reached the bank, where a pavilion stood made of straw. Filing through the pavilion, we found several small boats anchored under two big trees along the bank.

One after another, we hopped into one of the boats. One friend loosened the rope, pushed the bamboo pole against the bank, which moved the boat to the center of the river.

Three friends were rowing; Ye and I were sitting in the middle, enjoying ourselves in the scenery surrounding us.

In the distance a pagoda was erected on the top of a hill, surrounded by many green trees. It was rare to see such a pagoda, and over there it was the hometown of my friend Ye.
The river was wide, the water glistening without a ripple. The boat was steadily floating on the water, the three oars pulling in rhythm.

Then the river narrowed at a certain point. Clusters of leaves stretched out touching the water’s surface. The leaves were in a lovely green color. There seemed to be many lush banyan trees, but I couldn’t make out where the main trunks of the trees were.

My friends immediately corrected me as I referred to them as being many banyan trees. One of them said it was only one banyan, and another said there were two. I had seen many enormous banyans before, but it was the first time I saw such a gigantic one.

As the boat drew nearer to the banyan, I finally got a good look at it. This was a huge tree, with countless branches, on which grew aerial prop roots. Many of the roots were dangling to the ground, some all the way into the soil. There were branches hanging above the water. Seen from a distance, the tree seemed to be reposed on the water.

It was in the lush season (the tree bearing little fruits, many of which had fallen.) The banyan seemed to showcase its vibrant life energy to us. There were many leaves, clusters over clusters, with not even a tiny hole existing. The emerald green shining brightly in front of our eyes, it was like on each leaf there was a new life dancing. What a tree it is growing in the beautiful southern part of China!

The boat was moored under the tree for a moment, but we didn’t get onto the bank because it was so wet. A friend said it was known as the ‘paradise of the birds’ here. The local peasants forbade anyone to catch these birds. I thought I had heard some sounds of flapping wings, but by the time I shifted my eyes to that direction, I didn’t see any birds. There were many roots sticking out on the ground, looking like stakes. The soil was wet, perhaps for the tides frequently washed onto the shore. There were no birds in the “paradise of the birds,” I thought. The boat moved again, as a friend pushed the boat, and it drifted to the center of the river.

Along the path in the crop fields on the shore there were some litchi trees, with clusters of the red weighty fruits hiding among the leaves. Our boat was heading towards there. A friend pulled the boat into a ditch with an oar. We moored the boat at the path, and jumped onto the bank.

Two friends swiftly climbed up the trees, throwing down several clusters of litchis with leaves. Chen, Ye and I were down below catching them. After they came down, we ate the litchis as we headed back to the boat.

On the following day, we boated to Ye’s hometown, the place we had seen the hills and the pagoda. Setting off from Chen’s little school, we passed the ‘paradise of the birds’ again.

This time it was morning, and the sun was pouring over the water, as well as the branches. Everything was extremely bright. We stopped under the tree for a moment.
It was very quiet at first, but then a burst of chirps broke the silence. Chen clapped his hands, and we saw a big bird flying over, then a second, and a third. We continued to clap, and soon the woods became very boisterous. Bird chirps were all over the place, and so were the birds, the big ones, small ones, variegated ones and black ones. Some perched on the branches, chirping; some were flying up; some were flapping their wings.

I busied myself by watching them. Just as I saw this one clearly, I already missed the other one, and when I turned my eyes to the second one, the third one had flown off. A thrush flew out, but was startled by our clapping and then turned back into the woods. It stopped at a thin branch, and started to sing enthusiastically. The sounds were so beautiful.

“Let’s go.” Ye rushed me to leave.

As the boat was floating to the village under the pagoda, I kept turning back to look at the lush banyan left behind. I felt a little melancholy to leave this place. Yesterday, I was cheated by my eyes. The “paradise of the birds” is a real paradise for the birds!

June, 1933 in Guangzhou.

鸟的天堂

巴金

　　我们在陈的小学校里吃了晚饭。热气已经退了。太阳落下了山坡，只留下一段灿烂的红霞在天边，在山头，在树梢。
　　“我们划船去！”陈提议说。我们正站在学校门前池子旁边看山景。
　　“好，”别的朋友高兴地接口说。
　　我们走过一段石子路，很快地就到了河边。那里有—个茅草搭的水阁。穿过水阁，在河边两棵大树下我们找到了几只小船。
　　我们陆续跳在一只船上。一个朋友解开绳子，拿起竹竿一拨，船缓缓地动了，向河中间流去。
　　三个朋友划着船，我和叶坐在船中望四周的景致。
　　远远地一座塔耸立在山坡上，许多绿树拥抱着它。在这附近很少有那样的塔，那里就是朋友叶的家乡。
　　河面很宽，白茫茫的水上没有波浪。船平静地在水面流动。三只桨有规律地在水里拨动。
　　在一个地方河面变窄了。一簇簇的绿叶伸到水面来。树叶绿得可爱。这是许多棵茂盛的榕树，但是我看不出树干在什么地方。
　　我说许多棵榕树的时候，我的错误马上就给朋友们纠正了，一个朋友说那里只有一棵榕树，另一个朋友说那里的榕树是两棵。我见过不少的大榕树，但是像这样大的榕树我却是第一次看见。
　　我们的船渐渐地逼近榕树了。我有了机会看见它的真面目：是一棵大树，有着数不清的桠枝，枝上又生根，有许多根一直垂到地上，进了泥土里。一部分的树枝垂到水面，从远处看，就像一棵大树躺在水上一样。
　　现在正是枝叶繁茂的时节（树上已经结了小小的果子，而且有许多落下来了。）这棵榕树好像在把它的全部生命力展览给我们看。那么多的绿叶，一簇堆在另一 簇上面，不留一点缝隙。翠绿的颜色明亮地在我们的眼前闪耀，似乎每一片树叶上都有一个新的生命在颤动，这美丽的南国的树！
　　船在树下泊了片刻，岸上很湿，我们没有上去。朋友说这里是“鸟的天堂”，有许多只鸟在这棵树上做窝，农民不许人捉它们。我仿佛听见几只鸟扑 翅的声音，但是等到我的眼睛注意地看那里时，我却看不见一只鸟的影子。只有无数的树根立在地上，像许多根木桩。地是湿的，大概涨潮时河水常常冲上岸去。 “鸟的天堂”里没有一只鸟，我这样想道。船开了。一个朋友拨着船，缓缓地流到河中间去。
　　在河边田畔的小径里有几棵荔枝树。绿叶丛中垂着累累的红色果子。我们的船就往那里流去。一个朋友拿起桨把船拨进一条小沟。在小径旁边，船停住了，我们都跳上了岸。
　　两个朋友很快地爬到树上去，从树上抛下几枝带叶的荔枝，我同陈和叶三个人站在树下接。等到他们下地以后，我们大家一面吃荔枝，一面走回船上去。
　　第二天我们划着船到叶的家乡去，就是那个有山有塔的地方。从陈的小学校出发，我们又经过那个“鸟的天堂”。
　　这一次是在早晨，阳光照在水面上，也照在树梢。一切都显得非常明亮。我们的船也在树下泊了片刻。
　　起初四周非常清静。后来忽然起了一声鸟叫。朋友陈把手一拍，我们便看见一只大鸟飞起来，接着又看见第二只，第三只。我们继续拍掌。很快地这个树林变得很热闹了。到处都是鸟声，到处都是鸟影。大的，小的，花的，黑的，有的站在枝上叫，有的飞起来，有的在扑翅膀。
　　我注意地看。我的眼睛真是应接不暇，看清楚这只，又看漏了那只，看见了那只，第三只又飞走了。一只画眉飞了出来，给我们的拍掌声一惊，又飞进树林，站在一根小枝上兴奋地唱着，它的歌声真好听。
　　“走吧，”叶催我道。
　　小船向着高塔下面的乡村流去的时候，我还回过头去看留在后面的茂盛的榕树。我有一点的留恋的心情。昨天我的眼睛骗了我。“鸟的天堂”的确是鸟的天堂啊！

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　1933的6月在广州

老舍的《我这一辈子》 英语 翻译 第二章

Chapter 2 This is my life - by Sparkling English

Flashbacks of My Life

Lao She

Chapter 2

As I implied earlier, had I stuck to the paper craftsman skills, I would have starved to death already. Nonetheless, although the skills are no longer useful, I don’t mean to imply that the three years of training as an apprentice didn’t bring me many benefits. On the contrary, that experience is a lifetime asset to me. I can lay down the tools, and pick up another business, but the skills will always be a part of me. Even after my death, when people comment on my character they shall remember that I was once trained as an apprentice for three years.

For an apprentice, half of the work was to learn skill, and the other half was to learn discipline. Everyone has fears when he first becomes an apprentice. You have to put up all the injustices, which was a rule at the workshop. The apprentices were the first to get up and last to go to bed. They had to follow all the orders and accept being bossed around. They subjected themselves to serving all people, swallowed the bitterness, pains, and tears and still pretend to be happy. I was trained in my master’s home. After the master vented his anger on me, I had to take whatever else came from the mistress at the same time. After going through three years of this, the most stubborn man would be bowed whereas the weakest person would become tough. I think it is fair to say that the character of an apprentice is not born. Instead, it is shaped by beatings and trials. Just like a blacksmith who can shape the iron to whatever he wants through hammering.

At those times when I had to put up with excessive beatings and mental torture, I did want to die. This was not something a man could bear. However, in retrospect, such disciplining and beating was as valuable as gold. After going through all this, there is nothing in the world you can’t put up with. For example, if I were drafted, I could be a good soldier. Soldiers can at least take a break between drills. Apprentices didn’t get any rest other than sleep. I would even doze off while I was having a movement, because when I had to work overtime during the nights, I only got 3 or 4 hours of sleep. I also learned to swallow a meal in one bite. Whenever I picked up my bowl, either my master or mistress would immediately call me, or otherwise a customer came and I would have to listen very carefully to how my master haggled with the customer over the prices. What else could I do if I didn’t finish the whole meal in one bite? Such experiences made me tougher and I learned to manage to put on a smiling face in spite of any difficulties The intellectual type, in my humble opinion, would never understand this. The students of today in western schools think it is a great accomplishment just to run a couple of times around the track at a sports meeting. They are pampered and massaged with rubbing alcohol and get to sit in cars. Even with all this, they are still temperamental. Those scions, what do they know about discipline and training? With that being said, it was the hardships that gave me the uncomplaining and hardworking attitude I now possess. I would never let myself be idle and I have no temperament while working. I’m as tough and resilient as a soldier and far more amenable.

Let me give you a concrete proof of this, after I finished apprenticeship, just like all the other craftsmen, I was eager to establish myself as a person living off of my skills, I bought myself a pipe, and smoked it whenever I got a chance, posturing as though I was somebody, puffing it slowly. I also picked up drinking from time to time. Once you picked up one bad habit, it was not difficult to pick up a second. All habits are the same; they are all for pleasure. However, that led to a problem for me. It was nothing rare to be a smoker or drinker; most people do. But I wound up smoking opium. During those days, opium was not prohibited by law. It was actually quite cheap. I tried it for relaxation, and then I got addicted. Before long, I was broke, and lost my gung-ho spirit to work. Before anyone came to dissuade me, I quit opium “cold turkey” by myself and never even touched tobacco again. I joined the “Rational Gate.” After you have joined the “Rational Gate,” it is understood that if you touched tobacco or alcohol again, bad karma would always be with you. If bad karma was waiting for me if I smoked or drank, why then would I dare? My determination, in retrospect, can be attributed to my hardships as an apprentice. I had learned to overcome all kinds of trials. It was frustrating when I saw other people smoking or drinking at first. It was like thousands of worms were crawling inside of me. But I couldn’t break my oath, because of the bad karma. Actually the bad karma was something in the future; and the itchy feeling was far more immediately real and pressing. It was mainly my determination rather than fear of bad karma. I succeeded due to my training and self-discipline which I earned due to my apprenticeship.

As for the skills I learned, I don’t think those three years of apprenticeship were wasted.. Any skill can be useful when applied in different circumstances over time. The basic method is fixed but it can have many applications. The skill of the bricklayers thirty years ago was all about how to polish the stones and make them connected seamlessly, very detailed work; today they also know how to use man made bricks and lime. The carpenters thirty years ago focused on how to carve flower patterns on the wood; today they have also learned to make foreign crafts. Our craft is the same, it only requires more flexibility. What we see is what we make. For example, if the family wants us to make a paper feast for the funeral, then we will have to make paper chicken, paper duck, paper fish and paper pork. If the dead person happens to be an unmarried girl, we may be asked to make a dowry made of paper, which could be composed of either 48 suitcases or 32 suitcases. We can make every thing out of paper from powder cans, oil bottles to closets and fitting mirrors. As long as we can see it, we can make the thing out of paper. This is our unique ability. We don‘t have great ability, but we have some intelligence. A mindless person would not make a good paper craftsman.

Hence, we worked as though it was not just work but also a game. The secret of our business is how to make the paper come alive, which is a brain exercise. I would say I had some intelligence in me. When I was an apprentice, most of the beatings I suffered was not because I couldn’t do the work, rather, it was mostly because I was disobedient. My intelligence might not have surfaced at all, had I been told to learn to hammer iron, or saw wood – hammering or sawing, such completely monotonous work with no changes. Fortunately, I was an apprentice to a paper craftsman. Upon learning all the basic skills, I began to exercise my creativity to make my paper crafts more lifelike. Sometimes, I spent a lot of time and materials, but still couldn’t make out the thing that I envisioned in my mind, but this would only make me more obsessive about accomplishing the task. I would observe more closely, and try every method until I succeeded. This is a very good habit indeed. I am not just smart, but know how to make use of my intelligence, which made me very thankful for the three years of apprenticeship. I formed the habit of using my intellect after those three years. Granted, I haven’t accomplished anything huge in my life. Nonetheless, anything that an ordinary person can do, I can learn 50 % just at one glance. I know how to build a wall, plant a tree, fix clocks and watches, tell the difference between real and fake leather, pick out the auspicious days for weddings, and the knack for all sorts of businesses. I didn’t learn any of these things specifically. All I did was to watch with my eyes and work with my hands, a habit that I formed during the three years of apprenticeship at the burial clothes shop. I didn’t realize until now -- and I am like a man who is starving to death -- had I had more schooling, and become a bookworm like a Xiucai or a school graduate, I could have been living in the dark all my life without really understanding anything! My skill as a craftsman didn’t bring me to high positions or fortune, but it did make my life interesting; a poor life, but an interesting one, with some flavor.

I was just turning 20, and had already become an important person among my relatives and friends. It was not because of money or status, but because my meticulousness and hard work. Since I graduated from apprenticeship, I stayed in the teahouse everyday, waiting for people of the same trade coming to ask me for work. I wasn’t idle even when there was no work to be done. Many of my friends and relatives would entrust me with various tasks for them.. I even started match making whereas I was just a newly wed myself.

Helping other people was a pastime for me, which I actually enjoyed. Why? As I mentioned before, there were two types of work for paper craftsmen, burning work, or white work. Burning work was fun and clean, whereas white work was different. When you pasted the ceiling, you had to tear off the old paper, which was so unpleasant. You can’t imagine how much dust there was on the ceiling, which had accumulated for long years. The fine dust would crawl into your nose. After tearing off the old ceiling in three rooms, we all became ghosts covered in dust. Once you tied firm the straw frames and started to paste the new paper, the new foil paper stank and hung over your nose. The dust and new paper can cause disease – what is now known as consumption. I didn’t like this kind of work. But since I was waiting for jobs on the street, I couldn’t really refuse any work. You have to do whatever you can get. So, to deal with such work, I would stay down below, cutting or passing paper, or stirring the glue, anything to avoid doing the work at the ceiling. Thus, I could bow my head and eat less dust. But even with that, I would invariably become covered by dust and my nose became like a pipe. So after doing such work for a few days, I wanted to do something different for a change. Hence, when friends and relatives asked me for favors, I was more than happy to help out.

In addition, whether doing burning work or white work, people like us would always be involved in weddings and funerals. When acquaintances hired me, they would also discuss other related matters, such as arrangement of funerals and weddings; the preparations for certain ceremonial items; and the hiring of chefs as well as, the booking of wagons and so on and so forth. I gradually discovered a lot of enjoyment in doing these things, and learned how to do them masterfully. I not only earned face for my friends and relatives, but also saved money for them, by not letting them be gouged by others. I myself also accumulated valuable experience and learned excellent social skills through the handling of these matters. Over time I became very street wise, and I was not even thirty.

我这一辈子

二

　　上面交代过了：我若是始终仗着那份儿手艺吃饭，恐怕就早已饿死了。不过，这点本事虽不能永 远有用，可是三年的学艺并非没有很大的好处，这点好处教我一辈子享用不尽。我可以撂下家伙，干别的营生去；这点好处可是老跟着我。就是我死后，有人谈到我 的为人如何，他们也必须要记得我少年曾学过三年徒。

　　学徒的意思是一半学手艺，一半学规矩。在初到铺子去的时候，不论是谁也得害怕，铺中的规矩 就是委屈。当徒弟的得晚睡早起，得听一切的指挥与使遣，得低三下四的伺候人，饥寒劳苦都得高高兴兴的受着，有眼泪往肚子里咽。象我学艺的所在，铺子也就是 掌柜的家；受了师傅的，还得受师母的，夹板儿气！能挺过这么三年，顶倔强的人也得软了，顶软和的人也得硬了；我简直的可以这么说，一个学徒的脾性不是天生 带来的，而是被板子打出来的；象打铁一样，要打什么东西便成什么东西。

　　在当时正挨打受气的那一会儿，我真想去寻死，那种气简直不是人所受得住的！但是，现在想起 来，这种规矩与调教实在值金子。受过这种排练，天下便没有什么受不了的事啦。随便提一样吧，比方说教我去当兵，好哇，我可以作个满好的兵，军队的操演有时 有会儿，而学徒们是除了睡觉没有任何休息时间的。我抓着工夫去出恭，一边蹲着一边就能打个盹儿，因为遇上赶夜活的时候，我一天一夜只能睡上三四点钟的觉。 我能一口吞下去一顿饭，刚端起饭碗，不是师傅喊，就是师娘叫，要不然便是有照顾主儿来定活，我得恭而敬之的招待，并且细心听着师傅怎样论活讨价钱。不把饭 整吞下去怎办呢？这种排练教我遇到什么苦处都能硬挺，外带着还是挺和气。读书的人，据我这粗人看，永远不会懂得这个。现在的洋学堂里开运动会，学生跑上两 个圈就仿佛有了汗马功劳一般，喝！又是搀着，又是抱着，往大腿上拍火酒，还闹脾气，还坐汽车！这样的公子哥儿哪懂得什么叫作规矩，哪叫排练呢？话往回来 说，我所受的苦处给我打下了作事任劳任怨的底子，我永远不肯闲着，作起活来永不晓得闹脾气，耍别扭，我能和大兵们一样受苦，而大兵们不能象我这么和气。

　　再拿件实事来证明这个吧：在我学成出师以后，我和别的耍手艺的一样，为表明自己是凭本事挣 钱的人，第一我先买了根烟袋，只要一闲着便捻上一袋吧唧着，仿佛很有身分，慢慢的，我又学了喝酒，时常弄两盅猫尿咂着嘴儿抿几口。嗜好就怕开了头，会了一 样就不难学第二样，反正都是个玩艺吧咧。这可也就山了毛病。我爱烟爱酒，原本不算什么稀奇的事，大家伙儿都差不多是这样。可是，我一来二去的学会了吃大 烟。那个年月，鸦片烟不犯私，非常的便宜；我先是吸着玩，后来可就上了瘾。不久，我便觉出手紧来了，作事也不似先前那么上劲了。我并没等谁劝告我，不但戒 了大烟，而且把旱烟袋也撅了，从此烟酒不动！我入了“理门”。入理门，烟酒都不准动；一旦破戒，必走背运。所以我不但戒了嗜好，而且入了理门；背运在那儿 等着我，我怎肯再犯戒呢？这点心胸与硬气，如今想起来，还是由学徒得来的。多大的苦处我都能忍受。初一戒烟戒酒，看着别人吸，别人饮，多么难过呢！心里真 象有一千条小虫爬挠那么痒痒触触的难过。但是我不能破戒，怕走背运。其实背运不背运的，都是日后的事，眼前的罪过可是不好受呀！硬挺，只有硬挺才能成功， 怕走背运还在其次。我居然挺过来了，因为我学过徒，受过排练呀！

　　提到我的手艺来，我也觉得学徒三年的光阴并没白费了。凡是一门手艺，都得随时改良，方法是 死的，运用可是活的。三十年前的瓦匠，讲究会磨砖对缝，作细工儿活；现在，他得会用洋灰和包镶人造石什么的。三十年前的木匠，讲究会雕花刻木，现在得会造 洋式木器。我们这行也如此，不过比别的行业更活动。我们这行讲究看见什么就能糊什么。比方说，人家落了丧事，教我们糊一桌全席，我们就能糊出鸡鸭鱼肉来。 赶上人家死了未出阁的姑娘，教我们糊一全份嫁妆，不管是四十八抬，还是三十二抬，我们便能由粉罐油瓶一直糊到衣橱穿衣镜。眼睛一看，手就能模仿下来，这是 我们的本事。我们的本事不大，可是得有点聪明，一个心窟窿的人绝不会成个好裱糊匠。

　　这样，我们作活，一边工作也一边游戏，仿佛是。我们的成败全仗着怎么把各色的纸调动的合 适，这是耍心路的事儿。以我自己说，我有点小聪明。在学徒时候所挨的打，很少是为学不上活来，而多半是因为我有聪明而好调皮不听话。我的聪明也许一点也显 露不出来，假若我是去学打铁，或是拉大锯——老那么打，老那么拉，一点变动没有。幸而我学了裱糊匠，把基本的技能学会了以后，我便开始自出花样，怎么灵巧 逼真我怎么作。有时候我白费了许多工夫与材料，而作不出我所想到的东西，可是这更教我加紧的去揣摸，去调动，非把它作成不可。这个，真是个好习惯。有聪 明，而且知道用聪明，我必须感谢这三年的学徒，在这三年养成了我会用自己的聪明的习惯。诚然，我一辈子没作过大事，但是无论什么事，只要是平常人能作的， 我一礁就能明白个五六成。我会砌墙，栽树，修理钟表，看皮货的真假，合婚择日，知道五行八作的行活上诀窍……这些，我都没学过，只凭我的眼去看，我的手去 试验；我有勤苦耐劳与多看多学的习惯；这个习惯是在冥衣铺学徒三年养成的。到如今我才明白过来——我已是快饿死的人了！——假若我多读上几年书，只抱着书 本死啃，象那些秀才与学堂毕业的人们那样，我也许一辈子就糊糊涂涂的下去，而什么也不晓得呢！裱糊的手艺没有给我带来官职和财产，可是它让我活的很有趣； 穷，但是有趣，有点人味儿。

　　刚二十多岁，我就成为亲友中的重要人物了。不因为我有钱与身分，而是因为我办事细心，不辞 劳苦。自从出了师，我每天在街口的茶馆里等着同行的来约清帮忙。我成了街面上的人，年轻，利落，懂得场面。有人来约，我便去作活；没人来约，我也闲不住： 亲友家许许多多的事都托咐我给办，我甚至于刚结过婚便给别人家作媒了。

　　给别人帮忙就等于消遣。我需要一些消遣。为什么呢？前面我已说过：我们这行有两种活，烧活 和白活。作烧活是有趣而干净的，白活可就不然了。糊顶棚自然得先把旧纸撕下来，这可真够受的，没作过的人万也想不到顶棚上会能有那么多尘土，而且是日积月 累攒下来的，比什么土都干，细，钻鼻子，撕完三间屋子的棚，我们就都成了土鬼。及至扎好了称秸，糊新纸的时候，新银花纸的面子是又臭又挂鼻子。尘土与纸面 子就能教人得痨病——现在叫作肺病。我不喜欢这种活儿。可是，在街上等工作，有人来约就不能拒绝，有什么活得干什么活。应下这种活儿，我差不多老在下边裁 纸递纸抹浆糊，为的是可以不必上“交手”，而且可以低着头干活儿，少吃点土。就是这样，我也得弄一身灰，我的鼻子也得象烟筒。作完这么几天活，我愿意作点 别的，变换变换。那么，有亲友托我办点什么，我是很乐意帮忙的。

　　再说呢，作烧活吧，作白活吧，这种工作者与人们的喜事或丧事有关系。熟人们找我定活，也往 往就手儿托我去讲别项的事，如婚丧事的搭棚，讲执事，雇厨子，定车马等等。我在这些事儿中渐渐找出乐趣，晓得如何能捏住巧处，给亲友们既办得漂亮，又省些 钱，不能窝窝囊囊的被人捉了“大头”。我在办这些事儿的时候，得到许多经验，明白了许多人情，久而久之，我成了个很精明的人，虽然还不到三十岁。

朱自清 《背影》 英语翻译

View of my father's back - by Sparkling English

The View of my Father’s Back

Zhu Ziqing

It has been over two years since I last saw my father. It is the view of
his back that is most unforgettable to me.

That winter was a double tragedy for us as grandmother passed away and father was dismissed from his position. I left Beijing for Xuzhou to meet up with
father to go back home for the funeral. In Xuzhou, when I saw father, and total mess of disorderly placed items in his yard, memories of grandma came flooding back, and my tears poured down out of control.

Father said, “ Things which happen cannot be changed. Don’t be so sad. There is always a way out.”

Back home, by pawning and selling possessions, father paid off the debts and borrowed more money for the funeral. Those were gloomy days for the family, partly because of the funeral, and partly because father was now unemployed.

After the funeral, father headed for Nanjing to seek work and I for Beijing to finish school. Therefore, we traveled together for a while.

In Nanjing, a friend showed me around for a day; and the next morning, I
was supposed to ferry to Pukou and take the train north that afternoon to Beijing. Father was busy and had decided not to see me off. Instead he asked a waiter who was an acquaintance, to accompany me. He repeatedly instructed the waiter on how to take care of me. Nevertheless, he still felt unsure, worrying that the waiter was not reliable, and reconsidered what to do for a while. Actually, I was already 20 years old then and had been traveling to and from Beijing several times on my own already. There was nothing really to worry about. He thought for a while, and finally decided to see me off himself. I tried several times to persuade him not to, but he only said: “It’s fine. I don’t trust him with you.”

We crossed the river and entered the station; where I bought the ticket while he took care of the baggage. As there were so many pieces of luggage, we had to give some tips to the porter in order to enter. Father busied himself bargaining with the porters. Back then, I was quite the smart aleck, thinking he wasn’t a good negotiater, and had to restrain myself from butting in. Eventually, he finished the bargaining and took me onto the train. He picked a seat by the door, and I spread on the seat the expensive fur lined coat that he had made especially for me. He urged me to take care of myself and not to get cold at night. Then he asked the attendants to take care of me. I laughed at his silliness in my heart because those people cared only for money; and it was useless to ask a favor from them. Besides am I not old enough to take care of myself? Ai, in retrospect, I was really a smart aleck back then!


I said: “Father, you can go.” He took a look out of the window, and said:
“Let me buy some tangerines for you. You stay here. Don’t move.” I saw that beyond the railings on the other side of the platform, there were a couple of vendors waiting for customers. To get to the other side, however, one must jump down and climb up to get to that side of the railway. Father was rather fat and it was no small feat for him to get there. I wanted to go, but he wouldn’t allow me. so I had no choice but to let him go. I saw him with a black cap on his head, in a black jacket and a dark blue turquoise cotton padded robe, stumble to the railway and slowly make his way down, which wasn’t too difficult. But after he crossed the railway and tried to climb up onto the platform on the other side, it was not easy. His hands clung to the top, legs contracted up, his overweight body tilted to the left, as he painstakingly pulled himself up. Looking at his back, my tears flowed. I rushed to wipe away the tears, afraid of being seen by him, or by any others.

When I looked out again, he was already on his way back, carrying the tangerines. At the railway, he placed the tangerines gently on the ground, slowly climbed down, then picked them up and moved on. When he got back, I rushed to help him. As he and I got back onto the train, he placed all the tangerines on my fur coat, patted the dirt off his jacket, and looked very satisfied. After a moment, he said to me: ”I am leaving now. Remember to write to me! ” I watched him get off the train. After a few steps, he turned back and saw me, saying “Go back. Your things are unattended..” I waited until he disappeared into the bustling crowd, and went back in and sat down.

My tears came again.

In recent years, father and I led separate lives due to our need to travel separate ways to make a living. The family financial situation deteriorated day by day. When father was young, he left his home to make his living. He had many admirable accomplishments by his own efforts. Who would have guessed that he would turn out a failure in his old age. It is no surprise that as he looks back on his life, he feels sad and disappointed that life has not been kind to him. Due to these circumstances, his feeling made him very temperamental and he vented his anger over even trivialities at home. He also treated me differently. But after 2 years of separation, he forgot all my failings that angered him and showed more interest in me and my son. After I settled in the north, he wrote a letter to me stating that: “I am okay but my shoulder hurts very badly; the pain causes me difficulties in using chopsticks or even lifting my writing brush. I think the end of my life is not too distant.”

As I read this, thru my glistening eyes, I again see my father’s heavy back in that dark blue turquoise robe. Ai, I wonder when I shall see him again.


背影

作者: 朱自清
　
　　我与父亲不相见已二年余了，我最不能忘记的是他的背影。那年冬天，祖母死了，父亲的差使也交卸了，正是祸不单行的日子，我从北京到徐州，打算跟着父亲奔丧回家。到徐州见着父亲，看见满院狼藉的东西，又想起祖母，不禁簌簌地流下眼泪。父亲说，“事已如此，不必难过，好在天无绝人之路！”
　　回家变卖典质，父亲还了亏空；又借钱办了丧事。这些日子，家中光景很是惨淡，一半为了丧事，一半为了父亲赋闲。丧事完毕，父亲要到南京谋事，我也要回北京念书，我们便同行。
　　到南京时，有朋友约去游逛，勾留了一日；第二日上午便须渡江到浦口，下午上车北去。父亲因为事忙，本已说定不送我，叫旅馆里一个熟识的茶房陪我同去。他再三嘱咐茶房，甚是仔细。但他终于不放心，怕茶房不妥帖；颇踌躇了一会。其实我那年已二十岁，北京已来往过两三次，是没有甚么要紧的了。他踌躇了一会，终于决定还是自己送我去。我两三回劝他不必去；他只说，“不要紧，他们去不好！”
　　我们过了江，进了车站。我买票，他忙着照看行李。行李太多了，得向脚夫行些小费，才可过去。他便又忙着和他们讲价钱。我那时真是聪明过分，总觉他说话不大漂亮，非自己插嘴不可。但他终于讲定了价钱；就送我上车。他给我拣定了靠车门的一张椅子；我将他给我做的紫毛大衣铺好坐位。他嘱我路上小心，夜里警醒些，不要受凉。又嘱托茶房好好照应我。我心里暗笑他的迂；他们只认得钱，托他们直是白托！而且我这样大年纪的人，难道还不能料理自己么？唉，我现在想想，那时真是太聪明了！
　　我说道，“爸爸，你走吧。”他望车外看了看，说，“我买几个橘子去。你就在此地，不要走动。”我看那边月台的栅栏外有几个卖东西的等着顾客。走到那边月台，须穿过铁道，须跳下去又爬上去。父亲是一个胖子，走过去自然要费事些。我本来要去的，他不肯，只好让他去。我看见他戴着黑布小帽，穿着黑布大马褂，深青布棉袍，蹒跚地走到铁道边，慢慢探身下去，尚不大难。可是他穿过铁道，要爬上那边月台，就不容易了。他用两手攀着上面，两脚再向上缩；他肥胖的身子向左微倾，显出努力的样子。这时我看见他的背影，我的泪很快地流下来了。我赶紧拭干了泪，怕他看见，也怕别人看见。我再向外看时，他已抱了朱红的橘子望回走了。过铁道时，他先将橘子散放在地上，自己慢慢爬下，再抱起橘子走。到这边时，我赶紧去搀他。他和我走到车上，将橘子一股脑儿放在我的皮大衣上。于是扑扑衣上的泥土，心里很轻松似的，过一会说，“我走了；到那边来信！”我望着他走出去。他走了几步，回过头看见我，说，“进去吧，里边没人。”等他的背影混入来来往往的人里，再找不着了，我便进来坐下，我的眼泪又来了。
　　近几年来，父亲和我都是东奔西走，家中光景是一日不如一日。他少年出外谋生，独力支持，做了许多大事。那知老境却如此颓唐！他触目伤怀，自然情不能自已。情郁于中，自然要发之于外；家庭琐屑便往往触他之怒。他待我渐渐不同往日。但最近两年的不见，他终于忘却我的不好，只是惦记着我，惦记着我的儿子。我北来后，他写了一信给我，信中说道，“我身体平安，惟膀子疼痛利害，举箸提笔，诸多不便，大约大去之期不远矣。”我读到此处，在晶莹的泪光中，又看见那肥胖的，青布棉袍，黑布马褂的背影。唉！我不知何时再能与他相见！
　

老舍的《我这一辈子》 英语 翻译 第一章

Ch1 This is my life - by Sparkling English

Flashbacks of My Life

Lao She

Chapter 1

I had some schooling when I was young, not a whole lot but enough for me to read the classics like Seven Heroes and Five Gallants or Romance of Three Kingdoms. I even memorized several pieces from Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, and today I can still recite the entire stories with vivid descriptions. The audiences always compliment me on my good memory, and I myself even feel pleased with it. However, I didn’t read the original text of Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, which was too difficult for me. The stories I memorized were all from the entertainment papers – stories which had been translated into the vernacular and embellished with amusing lines - so hilarious!

My calligraphy was comparable, certainly no worse than that of the governmental documents, in term of the proportionality of the characters, the polish of the ink, and the uniformity of the lines and columns. I really believe that I would have made a good civil servant. I’m not bragging that I could write legal complaints, but ordinary official documents would have been a cinch for me.

Based on my ability to read and write, I should have worked for the government. That kind of job would not necessarily glorify my family or ancestors, but at least a decent one. What’s more, there is always a chance of being promoted no matter how insignificant the position one starts with. I have seen more than one very high-ranking official whose handwriting was not as good as mine. They couldn’t even give a complete speech. If they could be senior officials, there should be no reason I can‘t.

But at age 15, my family sent me to be an apprentice to a craftsman. One can succeed in any profession, and it is not a shame to be an apprentice and learn some practical skills, however, for me it was just not as good as working for the government. Once you become an artisan, you will be a craftsman for the rest of your life. You may be rich, but will never have the prestige of a senior official. However, I didn’t protest to my family and became an apprentice, because at age 15, it’s natural not to have any independent thoughts. What’s more, my parents promised to arrange a marriage for me after I completed the term of apprenticeship and start making money. Back then, I imagined that getting married would be interesting. With a few years of hard work, I would be able to make a living like an adult, and have a wife. Life seemed to be treating me fairly.

I was trained to make paper crafts. During peace time, one can easily make a living by making paper crafts. In those days, one could not die simply. I am not saying that a man in those days would go back and forth between life and death several times, what I mean to say is that when one died, the family must spend extravagantly to make the funeral as grand as possible. For example, after a man was dead, people needed paper wagons and horses to burn, which was called “Backward Heading Wagon” – not many people know this term today. This was followed by a ceremony on the third day after the death called “ The Receiving Third” Paper crafts for burning were indispensable, sedan chairs, wagons, horses and mules, chests, idols, banners, flowers, etc. If a woman died after giving birth, a paper cow and a paper chicken encasing were required. On the seventh day when Buddhist scripts were read, one needed to prepare paper buildings and warehouses, gold and silver mountains, gold bars and ingots, clothes for all seasons, flowers and plants, artifacts and wood crafts. By the time the body was about to go through the funeral procession, there would be many burning crafts needed in addition to the paper pavilions and paper shelves, and at least one boy and one girl made of paper that would be lifted aloft.. On the “fifth seventh” day, paper umbrellas would be burned and on the sixtieth day paper boats and bridges would be burnt. Not until after the sixtieth day would the dead man be able to wave farewell to our paper craftsmen. If there were just a dozen wealthy people dying in one year, we would easily make our living.

Paper craftsmen don’t serve only dead people; we also serve for the worship of celestial beings.. In olden times, the celestial beings were not treated so stingily as they are today. Take Lord Guan for example; in the past on the 24th day of the sixth month of each year, people would make yellow banners and big hats, paper children, paper horses and seven-star flags etc. Today nobody even remembers Lord Guan. If someone got smallpox, then we would be busy for the goddesses. Nine goddesses needed nine sedan chairs, one red horse and one yellow horse, and nine cloaks. There are also low status elves that needed robes, boots and hats and many other things. Today people get vaccines at the hospitals, the goddesses have no opportunity to do their magic, and therefore paper craftsmen are also having more idle time. There are many other things people prayed for and paper crafts were needed. Today these are all considered superstitions and nobody mentions it. Times have really changed.

Aside from the gods and demons, we also do some work for the living people We call it “white work” We helped people decorate their homes. In the olden days, people didn’t live in western houses. When people moved, or got married, or for other special festivities, they would want to cover the walls with white paper to make the room look fresh. The wealthy families also hired us to do the windows. People are getting poorer every day now and don’t redecorate their homes when they move. Rich people have all moved into western styled houses. The ceilings are painted with lime, just once in most lifetimes. The windows are made of glass and there is no need to use paper or linens anymore. The foreign stuff is always better, and the craftsmen have found themselves losing customers all the time. It’s not like we don’t work hard. The foreign wagons were popular, so we made foreign wagons; and when automobiles became popular, we then make automobiles. We know how to innovate. But how many families who have people die would want foreign wagons or automobiles? Compared with the big inventions, the small changes we have made are all in vain. When the tides rise even ducks can’t go across the river. There is nothing more we can do…

我这一辈子

一

　　我幼年读过书，虽然不多，可是足够读七侠五义与三国志演义什么的。我记得好几段聊斋，到如 今还能说得很齐全动听，不但听的人都夸奖我的记性好，连我自己也觉得应该高兴。可是，我并念不懂聊斋的原文，那太深了；我所记得的几段，都是由小报上的“ 评讲聊斋”念来的——把原文变成白话，又添上些逗哏打趣，实在有个意思！

　　我的字写得也不坏。拿我的字和老年间衙门里的公文比一比，论个儿的匀适，墨色的光润，与行列的齐整，我实在相信我可以作个很好的“笔帖式”。自然我不敢高攀，说我有写奏折的本领，可是眼前的通常公文是准保能写到好处的。

　　凭我认字与写的本事，我本该去当差。当差虽不见得一定能增光耀祖，但是至少也比作别的事更体面些。况且呢，差事不管大小，多少总有个升腾。我看见不止一位了，官职很大，可是那笔字还不如我的好呢，连句整话都说不出来。这样的人既能作高官，我怎么不能呢？

　　可是，当我十五岁的时候，家里教我去学徒。五行八作，行行出状元，学手艺原不是什么低搭的 事；不过比较当差稍差点劲儿罢了。学手艺，一辈子逃不出手艺人去，即使能大发财源，也高不过大官儿不是？可是我并没和家里闹别扭，就去学徒了；十五岁的 人，自然没有多少主意。况且家里老人还说，学满了艺，能挣上钱，就给我说亲事。在当时，我想象着结婚必是件有趣的事。那么，吃上二三年的苦，而后大人似的 去耍手艺挣钱，家里再有个小媳妇，大概也很下得去了。

　　我学的是裱糊匠。在那太平年月，裱匠是不愁没饭吃的。那时候，死一个人不象现在这么省事。 这可并不是说，老年间的人要翻来覆去的死好几回，不干脆的一下子断了气。我是说，那时候死人，丧家要拼命的花钱，一点不惜力气与金钱的讲排场。就拿与冤衣 铺有关系的事来说吧，就得花上老些个钱。人一断气，马上就得去糊“倒头车”——现在，连这个名词儿也许有好多人不晓得了。紧跟着便是“接三”，必定有些烧 活：车轿骡马，墩箱灵人，引魂幡，灵花等等。要是害月子病死的，还必须另糊一头牛，和一个鸡罩。赶到“一七”念经，又得糊楼库，金山银山，尺头元宝，四季 衣服，四季花草，古玩陈设，各样木器。及至出殡，纸亭纸架之外，还有许多烧活，至不济也得弄一对“童儿”举着。“五七”烧伞，六十天糊船桥。一个死人到六 十天后才和我们裱糊匠脱离关系。一年之中，死那么十来个有钱的人，我们便有了吃喝。

　　裱糊匠并不专伺候死人，我们也伺候神仙。早年间的神仙不象如今晚儿的这样寒碜，就拿关老爷 说吧，早年间每到六月二十四，人们必给他糊黄幡宝盖，马童马匹，和七星大旗什么的。现在，几乎没有人再惦记着关公了！遇上闹“天花”，我们又得为娘娘们忙 一阵。九位娘娘得糊九顶轿子，红马黄马各一匹，九份凤冠霞帔，还得预备痘哥哥痘姐姐们的袍带靴帽，和各样执事。如今，医院都施种牛痘，娘娘们无事可作，裱 糊匠也就陪着她们闲起来了。此外还有许许多多的“还愿”的事，都要糊点什么东西，可是也都随着破除迷信没人再提了。年头真是变了啊！

　　除了伺候神与鬼外，我们这行自然也为活人作些事。这叫作“白活”，就是给人家糊顶棚。早年 间没有洋房，每遇到搬家，娶媳妇，或别项喜事，总要把房间糊得四白落地，好显出焕然一新的气象。那大富之家，连春秋两季糊窗子也雇用我们。人是一天穷似一 天了，搬家不一定糊棚顶，而那些有钱的呢，房子改为洋式的，棚顶抹灰，一劳永逸；窗子改成玻璃的，也用不着再糊上纸或纱。什么都是洋式好，耍手艺的可就没 了饭吃。我们自己也不是不努力呀，洋车时行，我们就照样糊洋车；汽车时行，我们就糊汽车，我们知道改良。可是有几家死了人来糊一辆洋车或汽车呢？年头一旦 大改良起来，我们的小改良全算白饶，水大漫不过鸭子去，有什么法儿呢！

《孔乙己 》 英语 翻译

Kong Yi Ji Chinese Classics - by Sparkling English

Kong Yiji

By Lu Xun

The layout of the wine taverns in Lu Town is quite different from those in other towns. There is always an L-shaped counter facing the street. Hot water is kept available at the counter so that it can be used to warm the yellow wine at any time. Laborers, back from work at noon or dusk, would spend 4 coppers to get a bowl of yellow wine – that was the price over 20 years ago and a bowl of wine costs 10 coppers now—where they lean over the counter, drink the warm wine and have their “happy hour“. With one more copper, you can get a dish of salted bamboo shoots or anise beans to go with the wine. If you are willing to pay over 10 coppers, you can buy a meat dish,. But most of the customers are the “Short Jackets” who cannot afford such luxuries, whereas, those who wear robes would stride to the back room, order their wine with some dishes and sit there taking their time to eat and drink.


At age 12, I started to work as a busboy at Xianheng wine tavern located at the entrance of the town. The tavern keeper said that I had a dumb looking face and was probably not smart enough to serve the “robed clientele,” and thus should only work in the front room. The “short jackets” in the front room, although usually easy going, were no less troublesome. Some wouldn’t be satisfied until they saw me scoop out the wine from the wine jar with their own eyes, to make sure that there was no water at the bottom of the pitcher. And even watched me put the pitcher in the hot water. Under such tight surveillance, it was impossible to water down the wine. Therefore, after a few days, the tavern keeper said I couldn’t even do that. Fortunately, due to the influence of my patron, the tavern keeper didn’t dismiss me but he assigned me to the insignificant task of just heating wine.

Since then, I spend all day at the counter, doing my specialized job where I couldn’t make any blunders. The thing that bothered me most was that the job was so monotonous and boring. The tavern keeper always glared at me with a fierce face, and the customers were not friendly either. Therefore, I couldn’t slack off even a little bit, except for a few laughs that Kong Yiji brought to us every time he came to the wine tavern. That’s why I can still remember him.

Kong Yiji was the only one who stood drinking while wearing a robe. He was big and tall, yet he had a wan face, often with bruises showing in his wrinkles, and had a bedraggled grizzly beard. Although he wore a robe, the robe, which was well worn out, seemed not to have been mended nor washed for a decade. He used many obscure words and archaic phrases when he spoke that his speech was unintelligible. Because of his surname Kong, someone picked a nonsensical phrase “Shang Da Ren Kong Yi Ji” from the children’s practice book and used this as a nickname for him, “Kong Yiji.”. Each time, the moment he stepped into the tavern, all the customers would look at him and start laughing. Someone would yell: “Kong Yiji, you got a new scar on your face!” He never answered them, he only spoke to the waiter behind the counter: ‘Two bowls of wine heated and a dish of anise beans.’ He then spread out 9 coppers. The customers then intentionally raised their voices: ”You must have stolen something again.” Kong Yiji with his eyes wide open: ”How can you accuse me, an innocent person without any basis?……” “What kind of innocent person? …I saw with my own eyes that you stole the books from the Hes’ and you were hung up and beaten.” Kong Yiji’s face turned red and the veins on his forehead protruded, while defending himself, said: “Stealing books is not a theft, stealing books…is an intellectuals’ business, it’s not a theft! ” Following that he blurted out those archaic phrases, such as “a nobleman sticks to his principles despite poverty” so on and so forth. The crowd would burst into laughter; and the wine tavern once again became lively and rowdy.

I learned from gossips that Kong Yiji used to go to school, but he didn’t pass any of his academic tests in his studies; nor did he learn any practical skills for earning a living. He got increasingly poorer day by day and was close to becoming a beggar. Fortunately, due to his good calligraphy, he was just able to get by, making copies of books for others. Despite this ability, he had another deficiency in his character – he was very lazy. He wouldn’t sit there working for more than a few consecutive days, and always ended up disappearing with the paper, the writing brush and the ink-slab. After a few of such instances, no one would ask him to be a copyist any more. Kong Yiji couldn't come up with any other ideas, and resorted to stealing and pilfering things on occasion. But at our tavern, he was more credit worthy than others. He never welched on his promise to pay. Even when he was really tight in money, he would write down the debt on the chalk board and always cleared the debt within a month and was able to erase his name from the chalk board.

After half a bowl of wine, the flush on his face faded. Someone sitting by him asked ” Kong Yiji, can you really read?” Kong Yiji stared at the guy who asked him, with a look of disdain. The guy carried on ”How come you are not even the lowest scholar?” Kong Yiji looked affronted, his face turning dark, and babbled all the obscure and archaic phrases that no one could understand. At this moment, the people all broke into hilarity and the tavern was permeated with a festive air.

At these instances, I laughed along with the people, and those were the moments the tavern keeper never scolded me for laughing. The tavern keeper had also asked such questions to him many times, just to tease him. Kong Yiji knew that he couldn’t have a regular conversation with them, so he turned to the youngsters. Once, he asked me: “Have you ever gone to school?” I nodded. He then said “You have gone to school, so let me test your knowledge. Do you know how to write the character Hui as the anise in the anise beans?” I thought, a bum like him, in what role is he testing me? I turned my back, ignoring him. Kong Yiji waited for a while, then said earnestly: “You can’t, can you? Let me teach you how. Remember it. It will be useful when you become a tavern keeper. You’ll have to do the books.” I thought to myself that I was a long way from becoming a tavern keeper, and our tavern keeper never wrote down anise beans on the books. He was being ridiculous and annoying, so I answered cooly: ”Who needs you to teach? Isn’t that a Hui as in the back and forth under the grass radical?” Kong Yiji seemed excited, tapping the counter with two long nailed fingers, nodding: “Correct, there are four different ways to write the character, do you know all of them?” I became annoyed, scowled and walked away. Kong Yiji was about to write something on the counter with the nail that had been dipped in the wine. Seeing me uncaring, he sighed, looking as if he had been defeated.

There were times when the kids of the neighborhood came over after hearing the laughter from the tavern. They circled Kong Yiji. Kong would give out anise beans to them, one for each. The kids ate the beans, but stayed there, staring at the dish. Kong Yiji felt flustered. He covered the dish with his palm, bending down: ”Not many left, I don’t have many for myself.” He straightened up, took a look at the beans, shaking his head saying pedantically in his old fashion way ”Not many left, are there? There are not.” The kids would scatter with loud laughter. Kong Yiji was always so funny, but without him, the days still went on as usual.

One day, it was two or three days before the mid-autumn festival, when the tavern keeper was pouring over the accounting, he put down the chalk board, saying all of a sudden: ”It has been a while since Kong Yiji was here last time. He still owes me 19 coppers.” At that moment I realized that it indeed had been a while. A drinker said: ”How can he come, his legs were broken during his beating.” The tavern keeper said “Ah.” “He kept stealing. This time, he must have been crazy. He stole from the house of Official Ding. How does one dare to steal from him?” “And then what.” “Then what? First, he had to write a confession, and then was beaten till midnight. His legs were broken.” “And then?” “Then his legs were broken” “After his legs were broken?” ”Then what? ... Who knows, he is probably dead.” The tavern keeper stopped asking, and went back to his accounting.

After the mid-autumn festival, it was getting colder every day. Winter was about to begin. Though I was by the fire all day long, I had to wear a cotton-padded jacket. It was in the early afternoon, there was not a single customer. I had my eyes closed while sitting there. Out of the blue there was a voice: “Warm a bowl of wine”. The voice was low, yet familiar. I didn’t see anybody so I got to my feet and looked out. It was Kong Yiji facing the threshold, sitting by the counter. His face was dark and taut, like a skeleton. Wearing a worn out jacket, he sat crossed legs on a reed mat which had a rope over his shoulder. He saw me and said: “Warm a bowl of wine.” The tavern keeper also stuck out his head, saying: ”Kong Yiji, you still owe me 19 coppers.” Kong Yiji owing up, replied with embarrassment, “Oh,that, I promise to pay you back next time. This time I have cash. Give me the good wine.” The tavern keeper was as usual, mocking him: ”Kong Yiji, you stole again.” This time he didn’t try to defend himself and answered simply “Don’t shame me.” “Shame you? If you didn’t steal, why were your legs beaten until broken?” Kong Yiji said in a low voice:” I fell down… I fell...” His eyes seemed to plead to the tavern keeper not to mention it. By then, there were already a few people around, they laughed along with the tavern keeper. I heated the wine, brought it out and placed on the threshold. He took out 4 coppers from the very worn out jacket, and put them in my hand. I saw his hands were muddy, thinking he must have walked here on his hands. Before long, he drank up the wine, walked out with his hands and disappearing while the people were still laughing.

Since then, I hadn’t see Kong Yiji for a long time. Around the end of the year, the tavern keeper took down the chalk board, and said ”Kong Yiji still owes me 19 coppers!” During the Dragon Boat Festival the following year, he said again, “Kong Yiji still owes me 19 coppers!” But he didn’t say it at the mid-autumn festival, and Kong Yiji hadn’t shown up at the end of the year either.

I haven’t seen him since — Kong Yiji is probably dead indeed.

March, 1919.


孔乙己

鲁迅

鲁镇的酒店的格局，是和别处不同的：都是当街一个曲尺形的大柜台，柜里面预备着热水，可以随时温酒。做工的人，傍午傍晚散了工，每每花四文铜钱，买一碗 酒，——这是二十多年前的事，现在每碗要涨到十文，——靠柜外站着，热热的喝了休息；倘肯多花一文，便可以买一碟盐煮笋，或者茴香豆，做下酒物了，如果出 到十几文，那就能买一样荤菜，但这些顾客，多是短衣帮，大抵没有这样阔绰。只有穿长衫的，才踱进店面隔壁的房子里，要酒要菜，慢慢地坐喝。
　　我从十二岁起，便在镇口的咸亨酒店里当伙计，掌柜说，样子太傻，怕侍候不了长衫主顾，就在外面做点事罢。外面的短衣主顾，虽然容易说话，但 唠唠叨叨缠夹不清的也很不少。他们往往要亲眼看着黄酒从坛子里舀出，看过壶子底里有水没有，又亲看将壶子放在热水里，然后放心：在这严重兼督下，羼水也很 为难。所以过了几天，掌柜又说我干不了这事。幸亏荐头的情面大，辞退不得，便改为专管温酒的一种无聊职务了。
　　我从此便整天的站在柜台里，专管我的职务。虽然没有什么失职，但总觉得有些单调，有些无聊。掌柜是一副凶脸孔，主顾也没有好声气，教人活泼不得；只有孔乙己到店，才可以笑几声，所以至今还记得。
　　孔乙己是站着喝酒而穿长衫的唯一的人。他身材很高大；青白脸色，皱纹间时常夹些伤痕；一部乱蓬蓬的花白的胡子。穿的虽然是长衫，可是又脏又 破，似乎十多年没有补，也没有洗。他对人说话，总是满口之乎者也，教人半懂不懂的。因为他姓孔，别人便从描红纸⑵上的“上大人孔乙己”这半懂不懂的话里， 替他取下一个绰号，叫作孔乙己。孔乙己一到店，所有喝酒的人便都看着他笑，有的叫道，“孔乙己，你脸上又添上新伤疤了！”他不回答，对柜里说，“温两碗 酒，要一碟茴香豆。”便排出九文大钱。他们又故意的高声嚷道，“你一定又偷了人家的东西了！”孔乙己睁大眼睛说，“你怎么这样凭空污人清白……”“什么清 白？我前天亲眼见你偷了何家的书，吊着打。”孔乙己便涨红了脸，额上的青筋条条绽出，争辩道，“窃书不能算偷……窃书！……读书人的事，能算偷么？”接连 便是难懂的话，什么“君子固穷”⑶，什么“者乎”之类，引得众人都哄笑起来：店内外充满了快活的空气。
　　听人家背地里谈论，孔乙己原来也读过书，但终于没有进学⑷，又不会营生；于是愈过愈穷，弄到将要讨饭了。幸而写得一笔好字，便替人家钞钞 书，换一碗饭吃。可惜他又有一样坏脾气，便是好吃懒做。坐不到几天，便连人和书籍纸张笔砚，一齐失踪。如是几次，叫他钞书的人也没有了。孔乙己没有法，便 免不了偶然做些偷窃的事。但他在我们店里，品行却比别人都好，就是从不拖欠；虽然间或没有现钱，暂时记在粉板上，但不出一月，定然还清，从粉板上拭去了孔 乙己的名字。
　　孔乙己喝过半碗酒，涨红的脸色渐渐复了原，旁人便又问道，“孔乙己，你当真认识字么？”孔乙己看着问他的人，显出不屑置辩的神气。他们便接 着说道，“你怎的连半个秀才也捞不到呢？”孔乙己立刻显出颓唐不安模样，脸上笼上了一层灰色，嘴里说些话；这回可是全是之乎者也之类，一些不懂了。在这时 候，众人也都哄笑起来：店内外充满了快活的空气。
　　在这些时候，我可以附和着笑，掌柜是决不责备的。而且掌柜见了孔乙己，也每每这样问他，引人发笑。孔乙己自己知道不能和他们谈天，便只好向 孩子说话。有一回对我说道，“你读过书么？”我略略点一点头。他说，“读过书，……我便考你一考。茴香豆的茴字，怎样写的？”我想，讨饭一样的人，也配考 我么？便回过脸去，不再理会。孔乙己等了许久，很恳切的说道，“不能写罢？……我教给你，记着！这些字应该记着。将来做掌柜的时候，写账要用。”我暗想我 和掌柜的等级还很远呢，而且我们掌柜也从不将茴香豆上账；又好笑，又不耐烦，懒懒的答他道，“谁要你教，不是草头底下一个来回的回字么？”孔乙己显出极高 兴的样子，将两个指头的长指甲敲着柜台，点头说，“对呀对呀！……回字有四样写法⑸，你知道么？”我愈不耐烦了，努着嘴走远。孔乙己刚用指甲蘸了酒，想在 柜上写字，见我毫不热心，便又叹一口气，显出极惋惜的样子。
　　有几回，邻居孩子听得笑声，也赶热闹，围住了孔乙己。他便给他们吃茴香豆，一人一颗。孩子吃完豆，仍然不散，眼睛都望着碟子。孔乙己着了 慌，伸开五指将碟子罩住，弯腰下去说道，“不多了，我已经不多了。”直起身又看一看豆，自己摇头说，“不多不多！多乎哉？不多也。”⑹于是这一群孩子都在 笑声里走散了。
　　孔乙己是这样的使人快活，可是没有他，别人也便这么过。
　　有一天，大约是中秋前的两三天，掌柜正在慢慢的结账，取下粉板，忽然说，“孔乙己长久没有来了。还欠十九个钱呢！”我才也觉得他的确长久没有 来了。一个喝酒的人说道，“他怎么会来？……他打折了腿了。”掌柜说，“哦！”“他总仍旧是偷。这一回，是自己发昏，竟偷到丁举人家里去了。他家的东西， 偷得的么？”“后来怎么样？”“怎么样？先写服辩⑺，后来是打，打了大半夜，再打折了腿。”“后来呢？”“后来打折了腿了。”“打折了怎样呢？”“怎 样？……谁晓得？许是死了。”掌柜也不再问，仍然慢慢的算他的账。
　　中秋之后，秋风是一天凉比一天，看看将近初冬；我整天的靠着火，也须穿上棉袄了。一天的下半天，没有一个顾客，我正合了眼坐着。忽然间听得 一个声音，“温一碗酒。”这声音虽然极低，却很耳熟。看时又全没有人。站起来向外一望，那孔乙己便在柜台下对了门槛坐着。他脸上黑而且瘦，已经不成样子； 穿一件破夹袄，盘着两腿，下面垫一个蒲包，用草绳在肩上挂住；见了我，又说道，“温一碗酒。”掌柜也伸出头去，一面说，“孔乙己么？你还欠十九个钱呢！” 孔乙己很颓唐的仰面答道，“这……下回还清罢。这一回是现钱，酒要好。”掌柜仍然同平常一样，笑着对他说，“孔乙己，你又偷了东西了！”但他这回却不十分 分辩，单说了一句“不要取笑！”“取笑？要是不偷，怎么会打断腿？”孔乙己低声说道，“跌断，跌，跌……”他的眼色，很像恳求掌柜，不要再提。此时已经聚 集了几个人，便和掌柜都笑了。我温了酒，端出去，放在门槛上。他从破衣袋里摸出四文大钱，放在我手里，见他满手是泥，原来他便用这手走来的。不一会，他喝 完酒，便又在旁人的说笑声中，坐着用这手慢慢走去了。
　　自此以后，又长久没有看见孔乙己。到了年关，掌柜取下粉板说，“孔乙己还欠十九个钱呢！”到第二年的端午，又说“孔乙己还欠十九个钱呢！”到中秋可是没有说，再到年关也没有看见他。
　　我到现在终于没有见——大约孔乙己的确死了。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 一九一九年三月。