一句一译的安徒生童话

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第24章 牙疼姨妈 Aunty Toothache

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《牙疼姨妈》,1872

Aunty toothache, 1872

---

一个关于诗歌失败的故事,《牙疼姨妈》以肯定诗歌的力量结尾。

A story about the failures of poetry, “Auntie toothache” ends by validating the power of poetry.

“一切最终都进了垃圾桶。” 这个故事着名的结尾是这样说的,而垃圾桶正是故事《牙疼姨妈》被发现的地方,但随后它又被复活、流传、复述并印刷出来,以一种确保其持久力量的方式。

“Everything ends up in the trash,” the story famously ends, and the trash is precisely the place where the story “Auntie toothache” is found, but then revived, circulated, retold, and put into print in a way that assures its power to endure.

一位评论家将《牙疼姨妈》归类为 “欢快的” 文本,因为在其中,“诗意的维度越来越多地胜出、渗透并看透可怕的现象和心理混乱”。

one critic has classified “Auntie toothache” as a “euphoric” text, for in it, “the poetical dimension more and more wins over, permeates and sees through the terrible phenomenal and psychological mess”.

可以肯定的是,诗歌和痛苦是秘密的同谋,都是缺失和衰败的标志,但在这个故事中,诗歌通过代表学生诗人的生活和作品而赢得了胜利,并确保想象力将战胜痛苦。

to be sure, poetry and pain are secret acplices, both signs of absence and decay, but in this story poetry wins the day by representing the life and writings of the student-poet and assuring that imagination will triumph over pain.

《牙疼姨妈》写于 1872 年,那一年安徒生拔掉了他最后一颗牙齿。

“Auntie toothache” was written in 1872, the year Andersen had his last remaining tooth extracted.

他加入了从陀思妥耶夫斯基和爱伦?坡到托马斯?曼和马丁?艾米斯等一系列作家的行列,这些作家都写过关于牙疼的诗歌,将痛苦和艺术结合起来,也利用了被称为与牙齿相关的 “力量、美丽和痛苦” 的联系。

he joins a pantheon of writers ranging from dostoevsky and poe to thomas mann and martin Amis who have written about the poetry of dental pain, yoking suffering and art and also taking advantage of what has been called the nexus of “potency, beauty, and pain” associated with teeth.

正如《无事生非》中的莱昂纳多所说:“因为从来没有一个哲学家 \/ 能够耐心地忍受牙疼。”

As Leonato puts it in much Ado about Nothing, “For there was never yet philosopher \/that could endure the toothache patiently”.

《牙疼姨妈》更像是怪诞的短篇小说而非童话故事。

“Auntie toothache” is more in the mode of the uncanny short story than the fairy tale.

它代表了一位成熟诗人的创作,这位诗人在致力于创造 “不朽” 艺术作品的一生中努力寻找意义,即使他正在经历死亡的痛苦。

It represents the writing of a mature poet who is struggling to find meaning in a life dedicated to creating “immortal” works of art even as he is experiencing the pains of mortality.

安徒生在完成这个故事后不久就开始感觉到他最终死于其中的肝癌的最初症状,这是他的最后一个故事。

Andersen began to feel the first symptoms of the liver cancer from which he died shortly after finishing this story, which is his last tale.

《牙疼姨妈》代表了他最伟大的成就之一,但它很少被收录在他的作品选集中,很大程度上是因为它以一种野蛮的虚无主义方式探讨了存在性问题。

“Auntie toothache” represents one of his greatest achievements, yet it is rarely included in anthologies of his work, in large part because it takes up existential questions in a savagely nihilistic manner.

牙疼姨妈表达了困扰诗人生命最后一年的病态焦虑,但这些焦虑也困扰着我们对艺术力量的信念,即艺术创造的效果能否与一次简单的牙疼相媲美(或弥补牙疼)。

Auntie toothache gives voice to morbid anxieties that haunted the poet in the final year of his life but that also trouble our faith in the power of art to create effects that rival (or pensate for) the force of a simple toothache.

---

这个故事是从哪里来的呢?你想知道吗?

where did we get this story? would you like to know?

我们是从扔废纸的篮子里得到的。

we got it from the basket that the wastepaper is thrown into.

许多好的、珍贵的书被带到熟食店和杂货店,不是为了被阅读,而是被用作淀粉、咖啡、豆子、咸鲱鱼、黄油和奶酪的包装纸。用过的书写纸也被发现很合适。

many a good and rare book has been taken to the delicatessen store and the grocer’s, not to be read, but to be used as wrapping paper for starch and coffee, beans, for salted herring, butter, and cheese. Used writing paper has also been found suitable.

人们常常把不该扔的东西扔进废纸篓。

Frequently one throws into the wastepaper basket what ought not to go there.

我认识一个杂货店伙计,他是熟食店老板的儿子。

I know a grocer’s assistant, the son of a delicatessen store owner.

他从在地下室服务一路晋升到在店面服务;他是一个博览群书的人,他的阅读材料包括用于包装的纸上的印刷文字和手写内容。

he has worked his way up from serving in the cellar to serving in the front shop; he is a well-read person, his reading consisting of the printed and written matter to be found on the paper used for wrapping.

他有一个有趣的收藏,包括从忙碌而心不在焉的官员的废纸篓里找到的几份重要官方文件,一些从一个女性朋友写给另一个女性朋友的机密信件 —— 不能再传播、不能被任何人提及的丑闻报告。

he has an interesting collection, consisting of several important official documents from the wastepaper baskets of busy and absent-minded officials, a few confidential letters from one lady friend to another - reports of scandal which were not to go further, not to be mentioned by a soul.

他是我们文学的一个活生生的抢救机构,他的收藏涵盖广泛领域,他可以自由出入他父母的商店和他现在的主人的商店,在那里他拯救了许多值得读两遍的书或书的残页。

he is a living salvage institution for more than a little of our literature, and his collection covers a wide field, he has the run of his parents’ shop and that of his present master and has there saved many a book, or leaves of a book, well worth reading twice.

他向我展示了他从废纸篓里收集的印刷品和手写品,其中最有价值的物品来自熟食店。

he has shown me his collection of printed and written matter from the wastepaper basket, the most valued items of which have e from the delicatessen store.

在收藏品中有几页从一个大作文本上撕下来的纸;异常清晰整洁的笔迹立刻引起了我的注意。

A couple of leaves from a large position book lay among the collection; the unusually clear and neat handwriting attracted my attention at once.

“这是那个学生写的,” 他说,“那个住在对面、大约一个月前去世的学生。正如你所见,他牙疼得厉害。读起来很有趣。这只是他写的一小部分;有一整本还有更多。我的父母用半磅绿色肥皂从学生的女房东那里换来了这个。这是我能抢救出来的部分。”

“this was written by the student,” he said, “the student who lived opposite here and died about a month ago. he suffered terribly from toothache, as one can see. It is quite amusing to read. this is only a small part of what he wrote; there was a whole book and more besides. my parents gave the student’s landlady half a pound of green soap for it. this is what I have been able to save of it.”

我借了它,读了它,现在我来讲这个故事。

I borrowed it, I read it, and now I tell it.

标题是:

牙疼姨妈

the title was:

AUNtY toothAchE

I

我小的时候姨妈给我糖果。那时我的牙齿能受得了;糖果不会伤害它们。现在我长大了,是个学生,可她还是继续用糖果宠着我。她说我是个诗人。

Aunty gave me sweets when I was little. my teeth could stand it then; it didn’t hurt them. Now I am older, am a student, and still she goes on spoiling me with sweets. She says I am a poet.

我身上有一点诗人的气质,但还不够。我常常在城市的街道上散步的时候,觉得自己仿佛走在一个巨大的图书馆里;房子是书架;每一层都是一个放着书的架子。那里放着日常生活的故事;旁边是一部古老的好喜剧,还有各个科学分支的着作、糟糕的文学作品和好书。我可以在所有这些文学作品中做梦和进行哲学思考。

I have something of the poet in me, but not enough. often when I go walking along the city streets, it seems to me as if I am walking in a big library; the houses are the bookshelves; and every floor is a shelf with books. there stands a story of everyday life; next to it is a good old edy, and there are works of all scientific branches, bad literature and good reading. I can dream and philosophize among all this literature.

我身上有一点诗人的气质,但还不够。毫无疑问,很多人身上的诗人气质和我一样多,尽管他们没有戴着写有 “诗人” 字样的标志或领带。他们和我都被赋予了一种神圣的天赋,一种足以满足自己的祝福,但完全太少而不能再分给别人。它像一缕阳光一样到来,充满一个人的灵魂和思想;它像一朵花的芬芳,像一段人们熟悉却又想不起来从哪里听到的旋律。

there is something of the poet in me, but not enough. No doubt many people have just as much of it in them as I, though they do not carry a sign or a necktie with the word “poet” on it. they and I have been given a divine gift, a blessing great enough to satisfy oneself, but altogether too little to be portioned out again to others. It es like a ray of sunlight and fills one’s soul and thoughts; it es like the fragrance of a flower, like a melody that one knows and yet cannot remember from where.

有一天晚上,我坐在我的房间里,有一种强烈的阅读欲望,但我没有书,也没有纸。就在这时,一片鲜嫩的绿叶从酸橙树上飘落下来,微风把它从窗户吹到我面前。

the other evening I sat in my room and felt an urge to read, but I had no book, no paper. Just then a leaf, fresh and green, fell from the lime tree, and the breeze carried it in through the window to me.

我观察着叶子上的许多脉络;一只小昆虫正在上面爬着,仿佛在对这片叶子进行彻底的研究。

I examined the many veins in it; a little insect was crawling across them, as if it were making a thorough study of the leaf.

这让我想到了人类的智慧:我们也在一片叶子上爬来爬去;我们的知识仅限于此,然而我们却毫不犹豫地就整棵大树 —— 树根、树干和树冠 —— 由上帝、世界和不朽组成的大树 —— 发表演讲,而对于这一切,我们只知道一片小小的叶子!

this made me think of man’s wisdom: we also crawl about on a leaf; our knowledge is limited to that only, and yet we unhesitatingly deliver a lecture on the whole big tree - the root, the trunk, and the crown - the great tree prised of God, the world, and immortality - and of all this we know only a little leaf!

当我坐在那里的时候,米勒姨妈来看我了。

As I was sitting there, I received a visit from Aunty mille.

我把有昆虫的叶子给她看,并告诉了她我由此产生的想法。

I showed her the leaf with the insect and told her of my thoughts in connection with these.

她的眼睛亮了起来。

And her eyes lit up.

“你是个诗人!” 她说。“也许是我们当中最伟大的诗人。如果我能活着看到这一天,我会很高兴地入土为安。自从酿酒商拉斯穆森的葬礼之后,你的强大想象力就一直让我惊叹。”

“You are a poet!” she said. “perhaps the greatest we have. If I should live to see this, I would go to my grave gladly. Ever since the brewer Rasmussen’s funeral you have amazed me with your powerful imagination.”

米勒姨妈这么说着,然后吻了我。

So said Aunty mille, and she then kissed me.

谁是米勒姨妈,谁是酿酒商拉斯穆森呢?

who was Aunty mille, and who was Rasmussen the brewer?

II

我们这些孩子总是称呼我们母亲的姨妈为 “姨妈”;我们没有别的称呼给她。

we children always called our mother’s aunt “Aunty”; we had no other name for her.

她给我们果酱和糖果,尽管它们对我们的牙齿非常有害;但是亲爱的孩子们是她的弱点,她说。当孩子们那么喜欢糖果的时候,拒绝给他们一点是很残忍的。这就是我们那么爱姨妈的原因。

She gave us jam and sweets, although they were very injurious to our teeth; but the dear children were her weakness, she said. It was cruel to deny them a few sweets, when they were so fond of them. And that’s why we loved Aunty so much.

她是个老处女;在我的记忆中,她一直都很老。她的年龄似乎从未改变过。

She was an old maid; as far back as I can remember, she was always old. her age never seemed to change.

早年她深受牙疼之苦,她总是提起这件事;所以她的朋友,酿酒商拉斯穆森,一个很机智的人,就叫她牙疼姨妈。

In earlier years she had suffered a great deal from toothache, and she always spoke about it; and so it happened that her friend, the brewer Rasmussen, who was a great wit, called her Aunty toothache.

几年前他就从酿酒业退休了,那时靠他的钱的利息生活。

he had retired from the brewing business some years before and was then living on the interest of his money.

他经常去看望姨妈;他比她年纪大。

he frequently visited Aunty; he was older than she.

他一颗牙都没有了 —— 只有几颗黑色的残根。

he had no teeth at all - only a few black stumps.

他告诉我们这些孩子,他小时候吃了太多的糖,所以才变成现在这个样子。

when a child, he had eaten too much sugar, he told us children, and that’s how he came to look as he did.

姨妈在她小时候肯定没吃过糖,因为她有最漂亮的白牙。

Aunty could surely never have eaten sugar in her childhood, for she had the most beautiful white teeth.

她非常爱护她的牙齿,晚上睡觉都不戴着它们!—— 酿酒商拉斯穆森说。

She took great care of them, and she did not sleep with them at night! - said Rasmussen the brewer.

我们这些孩子知道这是恶意的话,但姨妈说他不是那个意思。

we children knew that this was said in malice, but Aunty said he did not mean anything by it.

一天早上,在早餐桌上,她告诉我们她夜里做了一个可怕的梦,在梦里她的一颗牙掉了。

one morning, at the breakfast table, she told us of a terrible dream she had had during the night, in which one of her teeth had fallen out.

“那意味着,” 她说,“我将失去一个真正的朋友!”

“that means,” she said, “that I shall lose a true friend!”

“是一颗假牙吗?” 酿酒商笑着问。“如果是,那只能意味着你将失去一个假朋友!”

“was it a false tooth?” asked the brewer with a chuckle. “If so, it can only mean that you will lose a false friend!”

“你是个无礼的老头!” 姨妈说,比我以前见过的她或以后见过的她都要生气。

“You are an insolent old man!” said Aunty, angrier than I had seen her before or ever have since.

后来她告诉我们,她的老朋友只是在逗她;他是世界上最好的人,当他去世的时候,他会成为天堂里上帝的小天使之一。

She later told us that her old friend had only been teasing her; he was the finest man on earth, and when he died he would bee one of God’s little angels in heaven.

我对这种转变想了很多,并且想知道如果他以这个新的形象出现我是否能认出他来。

I thought a good deal of this transformation, and wondered if I would be able to recognize him in this new character.

当姨妈和他年轻的时候,他曾向她求婚。她坐下来考虑这件事,考虑得太久了,结果成了一个老处女,但她始终是他真正的朋友。

when Aunty and he had been young, he had proposed to her. She had settled down to think it over, had thought too long, and had bee an old maid, but always remained his true friend.

然后酿酒商拉斯穆森去世了。他被用最昂贵的灵车送去墓地,后面跟着很多人,包括有勋章的人和穿制服的人。

And then brewer Rasmussen died. he was taken to his grave in the most expensive hearse and was followed by a great number of folks, including people with orders and in uniform.

姨妈穿着丧服和我们所有的孩子一起站在窗边,除了我们的小弟弟,他是一周前鹳送来的。当灵车和送葬队伍过去,街道空了的时候,姨妈想离开窗边,但我不想;我在等天使,酿酒商拉斯穆森;他现在肯定已经成为上帝有翅膀的小天使之一并且会出现。

Aunty stood dressed in mourning by the window, together with all of us children, except our little brother, whom the stork had brought a week before. when the hearse and the procession had passed and the street was empty, Aunty wanted to go away from the window, but I did not want to; I was waiting for the angel, Rasmussen the brewer; surely he had by now bee one of God’s bewinged little children and would appear.

“姨妈,” 我说,“你不觉得他现在会来吗?或者当鹳再次给我们送来一个小弟弟的时候,他会把天使拉斯穆森也带来吗?”

“Aunty,” I said, “don’t you think that he will e now? or that when the stork again brings us a little brother, he’ll then bring us the angel Rasmussen?”

姨妈被我的想象力深深地打动了,她说:“那个孩子会成为一个伟大的诗人!” 在我上学的时候她一直这么说,甚至在我受坚信礼之后,是的,现在我是一个学生了她还这么说。

Aunty was quite overwhelmed by my imagination, and said, “that child will bee a great poet!” And this she kept repeating all the time I went to school, and even after my confirmation and, yes, still does now that I am a student.

她过去是,现在也是我最有同情心的朋友,无论是在我的诗歌烦恼中还是牙疼的痛苦中,因为我这两种情况都有。

She was, and is, to me the most sympathetic of friends, both in my poetical troubles and dental troubles, for I have attacks of both.

“就把你所有的想法都写下来,” 她说,“然后把它们放在桌子抽屉里!让?保罗就是这么做的;他成了一个伟大的诗人,尽管我并不钦佩他;他不能让人兴奋。你必须让人兴奋!是的,你会让人兴奋的!”

“Just write down all your thoughts,” she said, “and put them in the table drawer! that’s what Jean paul did; he became a great poet, though I don’t admire him; he does not excite one. You must be exciting! Yes, you will be exciting!”

在她说完这句话的第二天晚上,我躺在床上睡不着,充满了渴望和痛苦,怀着焦虑和美好的希望,想要成为姨妈在我身上看到和察觉到的伟大诗人;我经历了一个诗人所有的痛苦!但是还有一种更大的痛苦 —— 牙疼 —— 它正在折磨着我、挤压着我;我变成了一条扭动的虫子,带着一袋草药和一块芥末膏药。

the night after she said this, I lay awake, full of longings and anguish, with anxiety and fond hopes to bee the great poet that Aunty saw and perceived in me; I went through all the pains of a poet! but there is an even greater pain - toothache - and it was grinding and crushing me; I became a writhing worm, with a bag of herbs and a mustard plaster.

“我全知道,” 姨妈说。她的嘴唇上带着悲伤的微笑,她的白牙闪闪发光。

“I know all about it, “ said Aunty. there was a sorrowful smile on her lips, and her white teeth glistened.

但是我必须在我和姨妈的故事中开始一个新的篇章。

but I must begin a new chapter in my own and my aunt’s story.

III

我搬到了一个新的公寓,已经在那里住了一个月了。我正在给姨妈讲这件事。

I had moved to a new flat and had been living there a month. I was telling Aunty about it.

“我和一个安静的家庭住在一起;即使我按三次铃,他们也不会注意到我。此外,这是一个吵闹的房子,充满了天气、风和人引起的声音和干扰。我住在临街大门的正上方;每一辆进出的马车都使墙上的画晃动起来。大门砰砰作响,使房子摇晃,就好像发生了地震一样。如果我躺在床上,震动会传遍我的四肢,但据说这对神经有好处。”

“I live with a quiet family; they pay no attention to me, even if I ring three times. besides, it is a noisy house, full of sounds and disturbances caused by the weather, the wind, and the people. I live just above the street gate; every carriage that drives out or in makes the pictures on the walls move about. the gate bangs and shakes the house as if there were an earthquake. If I am in bed, the shocks go right through all my limbs, but that is said to be strengthening to the nerves.

如果刮风了 —— 在这个国家风总是在刮 —— 外面的长窗钩就会来回摆动,敲击着墙壁。

If the wind blows, and it is always blowing in this country, the long window hooks outside swing to and fro, and strike against the wall.

邻居院子大门上的铃铛在每一阵风中都会响。

the bell on the gate to the neighbor’s yard rings with every gust of wind.

“住在这所房子里的人在任何时候都回家,从深夜一直到深夜;住在我楼上的房客,白天教长号,回来得最晚,在穿着铁鞋跟的沉重脚步进行一次午夜小散步之前他不会上床睡觉。

“the people who live in the house e home at all hours, from late in the evening until far into the night; the lodger just above me, who in the daytime gives lessons on the trombone, es home the latest and does not go to bed before he has taken a little midnight promenade with heavy steps and in iron heeled shoes.

“没有双层窗户。我的房间里有一块破玻璃,女房东在上面贴了一些纸,但尽管如此风还是从裂缝中吹进来,发出一种类似嗡嗡叫的黄蜂的声音。这就像那种能让人入睡的音乐。如果我最后睡着了,很快就会被公鸡的打鸣声吵醒。从地下室管理员的鸡笼里,公鸡和母鸡宣告天很快就要亮了。没有马厩而被拴在楼梯下储藏室里的小矮马在走动时踢着门和镶板。

“there are no double windows. there is a broken pane in my room, over which the landlady has pasted some paper, but the wind blows through the crack despite that and produces a sound similar to that of a buzzing wasp. It is like the sort of music that makes one go to sleep. If at last I fall asleep, I am soon awakened by the crowing of the cocks. From the cellarman’s hencoop the cocks and hens announce that it will soon be morning. the small ponies, which have no stable, but are tied up in the storeroom under the staircase, kick against the door and the paneling as they move about.

“天亮了。住在阁楼里和家人一起的门房轰隆隆地走下楼梯;他的木鞋咔嗒作响;大门砰地一声关上,房子摇晃起来。

“the day dawns. the porter, who lives with his family in the attic, es thundering down the stairs; his wooden shoes clatter; the gate bangs and the house shakes.

当这一切都结束的时候,楼上的房客又开始进行体操锻炼了;他每只手举起一个沉重的铁球,但他拿不住它们,它们不断地掉在地上,与此同时,房子里要去上学的年轻人竭尽全力地尖叫着。

And when all this is over, the lodger above begins to occupy himself with gymnastic exercises; he lifts a heavy iron ball in each hand, but he is not able to hold onto them, and they are continually falling on the floor, while at the same time the young folks in the house, who are going to school, e screaming with all their might.

我走到窗前打开它呼吸一些新鲜空气,这非常提神 —— 当我能呼吸到新鲜空气的时候,以及当后面那栋楼里的年轻女人不在肥皂水里洗手套的时候,她靠洗手套谋生。否则这是一个令人愉快的房子,而且我和一个安静的家庭住在一起!

I go to the window and open it to get some fresh air, and it is most refreshing - when I can get it, and when the young woman in the back building is not washing gloves in soapsuds, by which she earns her livelihood. otherwise it is a pleasant house, and I live with a quiet family!”

这就是我向姨妈描述我的公寓的情况,尽管当时说得更生动些,因为口头语言比书面语言听起来更新鲜。

this was the report I gave Aunty about my flat, though it was livelier at the time, for the spoken word has a fresher sound than the written.

“你是个诗人!” 姨妈喊道。“只要把你说的都写下来,你就会和狄更斯一样出色!的确,对我来说,你有趣多了。你说话的时候就像在画画。你描述你的房子,让人能看见它。这让人不寒而栗。继续你的诗歌创作吧。在里面加入一些有生命的东西 —— 人,迷人的人,尤其是不幸的人。”

“You are a poet!” cried Aunty. “Just write down all you have said, and you will be as good as dickens! Indeed, to me, you are much more interesting. You paint when you speak. You describe your house so that one can see it. It makes one shudder. Go on with your poetry. put some living beings into it - people, charming people, especially unhappy ones.”

我按照原样写下了我对房子的描述,包括所有的声音、噪音,但里面只有我自己。里面没有情节。那是后来才有的。

I wrote down my description of the house as it stands, with all its sounds, its noises, but included only myself. there was no plot in it. that came later.

IV

那是在冬天,深夜,剧院散场后;天气很可怕;暴风雪肆虐,让人几乎无法前行。

It was during wintertime, late at night, after theater hours; it was terrible weather; a snowstorm raged so that one could hardly move along.

姨妈去了剧院,我去那里接她回家;一个人要去任何地方都很困难,更不用说帮助别人了。所有的出租马车都被租走了。姨妈住在城市的一个很远的地方,而我的住处离剧院很近。如果不是这样的话,我们就得在一个岗亭里躲一会儿了。

Aunty had gone to the theater, and I went there to take her home; it was difficult for one to get anywhere, to say nothing of helping another. All the hiring carriages were engaged. Aunty lived in a distant section of the town, while my dwelling was close to the theater. had this not been the case, we would have had to take refuge in a sentry box for a while.

我们在深雪中艰难前行,雪花在我们周围飞舞。我不得不扶着她,抓住她,推着她走。我们只摔倒了两次,但我们倒在了柔软的雪上。

we trudged along in the deep snow while the snowflakes whirled around us. I had to lift her, hold onto her, and push her along. only twice did we fall, but we fell on the soft snow.

我们到了我的门口,在那里我们抖掉了一些雪。在楼梯上,我们也抖掉了一些雪,但仍然有足够多的雪几乎覆盖了前厅的地面。

we reached my gate, where we shook some of the snow from ourselves. on the stairs, too, we shook some off, and yet there was still enough almost to cover the floor of the anteroom.

我们脱下大衣、靴子和其他可以脱的衣服。女房东借给姨妈干袜子和睡帽;她说姨妈会需要这些,还说那天晚上姨妈不可能回家了,这是真的。然后她请姨妈使用她的客厅,在那里她会在沙发上为姨妈准备一张床,就在通向我房间的门前面,那扇门总是锁着的。于是她就留了下来。

we took off our overcoats and boots and what other clothes might be removed. the landlady lent Aunty dry stockings and a nightcap; this she would need, said the landlady, and added that it would be impossible for my aunt to get home that night, which was true. then she asked Aunty to make use of her parlor, where she would prepare a bed for her on the sofa, in front of the door that led into my room and that was always kept locked. And so she stayed.

我的炉火烧得正旺,茶壶放在桌子上,这个小房间变得舒适起来,虽然不像姨妈自己的房间那样舒适,在冬天,她的房间门口有厚厚的窗帘,窗户前有厚厚的窗帘,地板上有双层地毯,下面还有三层厚纸。人坐在那里就像坐在一个塞得紧紧的瓶子里,充满了温暖的空气;不过,就像我说的,在我的地方也很舒适,而外面风在呼啸。

the fire burned in my stove, the tea urn was placed on the table, and the little room became cozy, if not as cozy as Aunty’s own room, where in the wintertime there are heavy curtains before the door, heavy curtains before the windows, and double carpets on the floor, with three layers of thick paper underneath. one sits there as if in a well-corked bottle, full of warm air; still, as I have said, it was also cozy at my place, while outside the wind was whistling.

姨妈聊天并回忆着;她想起了她年轻时的日子;酿酒商又回来了;许多旧的回忆被唤起。

Aunty talked and reminisced; she recalled the days of her youth; the brewer came back; many old memories were revived.

她还记得我长出第一颗牙的时候,全家人为此有多高兴。我的第一颗牙!天真无邪的牙齿,像一小滴牛奶一样闪闪发光 —— 乳牙!

She could remember the time I got my first tooth, and the family’s delight over it. my first tooth! the tooth of innocence, shining like a little drop of milk - the milk tooth!

当一颗牙长出来后,又有几颗长了出来,一整排,并排着,上面和下面都有 —— 最好的乳牙,尽管这些只是 “先头部队”,而不是真正的牙齿,真正的牙齿要伴随人的一生。

when one had e, several more came, a whole rank of them, side by side, appearing both above and below - the finest of children’s teeth, though these were only the “vanguard,” not the real teeth, which have to last one’s whole lifetime.

然后那些牙齿也长了出来,还有智齿,每一排的侧翼,在痛苦和巨大的磨难中诞生。

then those also appeared, and the wisdom teeth as well, the flank men of each rank, born in pain and great tribulation.

它们也会消失,有时每一颗都会消失;它们在服役期满之前就消失了,当最后一颗牙掉了的时候,那绝不是一个快乐的日子;那是一个哀悼的日子。所以即使一个人感觉自己还年轻,也会觉得自己老了。

they disappear, too, sometimes every one of them; they disappear before their time of service is up, and when the very last one goes, that is far from a happy day; it is a day for mourning. And so then one considers himself old, even if he feels young.

这样的想法和谈话并不令人愉快。

Such thoughts and talk are not pleasant.

然而我们开始谈论这一切;我们回到了我的童年时光,不停地交谈。十二点的时候姨妈才去旁边的房间休息。

Yet we came to talk about all this; we went back to the days of my childhood and talked and talked. It was twelve o’clock before Aunty went to rest in the room near by.

“晚安,我亲爱的孩子。” 她喊道。“我现在睡觉就像在我自己的床上一样。”

“Good night, my sweet child,” she called. “I shall now sleep as if I were in my own bed.”

她睡得很安稳;但除此之外,房子里和外面都不平静。暴风雨摇晃着窗户,把长长的、悬着的铁钩撞在房子上,还敲响了邻居后院的铃铛。楼上的房客回家了。他还在房间里进行他每晚的小散步,上上下下;然后他踢掉靴子,上床睡觉了;但是他鼾声如雷,耳朵好的人隔着天花板都能听到。

And she slept peacefully; but otherwise there was no peace either in the house or outside. the storm rattled the windows, struck the long, dangling iron hooks against the house, and rang the neighbor’s back-yard bell. the lodger upstairs had e home. he was still taking his little nightly tour up and down the room; he then kicked off his boots and went to bed and to sleep; but he snores so that anyone with good ears can hear him through the ceiling.

我找不到安宁,得不到平静。天气也不平静;它很活跃。风以它自己的方式呼啸和歌唱;我的牙齿也开始活跃起来,它们也以它们自己的方式嗡嗡作响和歌唱。一场可怕的牙疼要来了。

I found no rest, no peace. the weather did not rest, either; it was lively. the wind howled and sang in its own way; my teeth also began to be lively, and they hummed and sang in their way. An awful toothache was ing on.

有一股从窗户吹进来的气流。月亮照在地板上;光随着暴风雨天气中云的来来去去而时有时无。有一个不安的光影变化,但最后地板上的影子开始成形。我盯着移动的影子,感到一股冰冷的风扑面而来。

there was a draft from the window. the moon shone in upon the floor; the light came and went as the clouds came and went in the stormy weather. there was a restless change of light and shadow, but at last the shadow on the floor began to take shape. I stared at the moving form and felt an icy-cold wind against my face.

地板上坐着一个身影,又瘦又长,就像孩子用铅笔在石板上画的东西,应该是看起来像一个人的东西,一条细细的线构成身体,另外两条线是胳膊,每条腿只是一条线,头是多边形的。

on the floor sat a figure, thin and long, like something a child would draw with a pencil on a slate, something supposed to look like a person, a single thin line forming the body, another two lines the arms, each leg being but a single line, and the head having a polygonal shape.

这个身影很快变得更清晰了;它身上披着一块非常薄、非常精致的布,清楚地表明这个身影是一个女性的。

the figure soon became more distinct; it had a very thin, very fine sort of cloth draped around it, clearly showing that the figure was that of a female.

我听到一阵嗡嗡声。是她还是风在像黄蜂一样从窗玻璃的裂缝中嗡嗡作响?

I heard a buzzing sound. was it she or the wind which was buzzing like a hornet through the crack in the pane?

不,是她,牙疼夫人本人!她那可怕的威严,地狱的撒旦尼亚!愿上帝拯救我们,使我们免受她的伤害!

No, it was she, madam toothache herself! her terrible highness, Satania Infernalis! God deliver and preserve us from her!

“在这里真好!” 她嗡嗡地说。“这些是很好的住处 —— 长满青苔的地面,沼泽般的地面!蚊子一直在这里嗡嗡叫,它们的刺里有毒;现在我带着这样一根刺来了。它必须在人的牙齿上磨锋利。这里床上这个人的牙齿很闪亮。它们经受住了酸甜的东西、冷热、坚果壳和李子核;但是我要摇晃它们,让它们颤抖,用通风的风喂它们的根部,让它们的脚发凉!”

“It is good to be here!” she buzzed. “these are nice quarters - mossy ground, fenny ground! Gnats have been buzzing around here, with poison in their stings; and now I am here with such a sting. It must be sharpened on human teeth. those belonging to the fellow in bed here shine so brightly. they have defied sweet and sour things, heat and cold, nutshells and plum stones; but I shall shake them, make them quake, feed their roots with drafty winds, and give them cold feet!”

那是一番可怕的话!她是一个可怕的访客!

that was a frightening speech! She was a terrible visitor!

“所以你是一个诗人!” 她说。“好吧,我会让你精通所有牙疼的诗歌!我会把钢铁刺进你的身体!我会抓住你所有的神经纤维!”

“So you are a poet!” she said. “well, I’ll make you well versed in all the poetry of toothache! I’ll thrust iron and steel into your body! I’ll seize all the fibers of your nerves!”

然后我感觉好像有一个炽热的锥子被钉进我的下巴骨里;我扭动着身体。

I then felt as if a red-hot awl were being driven into my jawbone; I writhed and twisted.

“一口漂亮的牙齿,” 她说,“就像一架可以弹奏的风琴!我们将举行一场盛大的音乐会,有犹太竖琴、定音鼓、小号、短笛,还有智齿里的长号!伟大的诗人,伟大的音乐!”

“A splendid set of teeth,” she said, “just like an organ to play upon! we shall have a grand concert, with jew’s-harps, kettledrums, and trumpets, piccolo-flute, and a trombone in the wisdom tooth! Grand poet, grand music!”

然后她开始演奏;她看起来很可怕,即使人们只能看到她的手,那只朦胧的、灰色的、冰冷的手,有着又长又细又尖的手指;每一根手指都是一种折磨人的工具;大拇指和食指是钳子和扳手;中指以一个尖锥结束;无名指是一个钻头,小指喷射蚊子的毒液。

And then she started to play; she looked terrible, even if one did not see more of her than her hand, the shadowy, gray, icecold hand, with the long, thin, pointed fingers; each of them was an instrument of torture; the thumb and the forefinger were the pincers and wrench; the middle finger ended in a pointed awl; the ring finger was a drill, and the little finger squirted gnat’s poison.

“我要教你韵律!” 她说。“一个伟大的诗人必须有剧烈的牙疼,一个小诗人有轻微的牙疼!”

“I am going to teach you meter!” she said. “A great poet must have a great toothache, a little poet a little toothache!”

“哦,让我做一个小诗人吧!” 我请求道。“让我什么都不是!而且我不是诗人;我只是偶尔有诗意,就像偶尔牙疼一样。走开,走开!”

“oh, let me be a little poet!” I begged. “Let me be nothing at all! And I am not a poet; I have only fits of poetry, like fits of toothache. Go away, go away!”

“那么,你会承认我比诗歌、哲学、数学和所有的音乐都更强大吗?” 她说。“比所有画在画布上或刻在大理石上的那些观念都更强大吗?我比它们每一个都更古老。我出生在靠近天堂花园的地方,就在外面,那里风在吹,潮湿的毒蘑菇在生长。是我让夏娃在寒冷的天气里穿上衣服,亚当也是。相信我,第一次牙疼就有力量!”

“will you acknowledge, then, that I am mightier than poetry, philosophy, mathematics, and all the music?” she said. “mightier than all those notions that are painted on canvas or carved in marble? I am older than every one of them. I was born close to the garden of paradise, just outside, where the wind blew and the wet toadstools grew. It was I who made Eve wear clothes in the cold weather, and Adam also. believe me, there was power in the first toothache!”

“我都相信,” 我说。“但是走开,走开!”

“I believe it all,” I said. “but go away, go away!”

“是的,如果你放弃做诗人,永远不在纸上、石板上或任何书写材料上写诗,那么我就放过你;但是如果你写诗,我还会再来!”

“Yes, if you will give up being a poet, never put verse on paper, slate, or any sort of writing material, then I will let you off; but I’ll e again if you write poetry!”

“我发誓!” 我说;“只求让我永远不再看到或感觉到你!”

“I swear!” I said; “only let me never see or feel you any more!”

“你会看到我的,但会以一种更实在的形态,一种比现在更让你喜爱的形态。你会看到我以米勒姨妈的样子出现,我会说,‘写诗吧,我亲爱的孩子!你是一个伟大的诗人,也许是我们当中最伟大的!’但是如果你相信我,开始写诗,那么我会为你的诗句配上音乐,在你的口琴上演奏它们。你这个可爱的孩子!当你看到米勒姨妈的时候,要想起我!”

“See me you shall, but in a more substantial shape, in a shape more dear to you than I am now. You shall see me as Aunty mille, and I shall say, ‘write poetry, my sweet boy! You are a great poet, perhaps the greatest we have!’ but if you believe me, and begin to write poetry, then I will set music to your verses, and play them on your mouth harp. You sweet child! Remember me when you see Aunty mille!”

然后她消失了。

then she disappeared.

在我们分别的时候,我的下巴骨像被一根炽热的锥子刺了一下;但很快就平息了,然后我感觉自己好像在平静的水面上滑行;我看到白色的睡莲,带着它们巨大的绿叶,在我下面弯下又沉下去;它们枯萎又溶解了,我也沉下去,溶解在宁静与安息之中。

At our parting I received a thrust through my jawbone like that of a red-hot awl; but it soon subsided, and then I felt as if I were gliding along the smooth water; I saw the white water lilies, with their large green leaves, bending and sinking down under me; they withered and dissolved, and I sank, too, and dissolved into peace and rest.

“死去,像雪一样融化!” 在水中回响;“蒸发成空气,像云一样飘走!”

“to die, and melt away like snow!” resounded in the water; “to evaporate into air, to drift away like the clouds!”

伟大的、闪闪发光的名字和写在飘扬的胜利旗帜上的题词,不朽的专利证书,写在一只蜉蝣的翅膀上,透过水向我闪耀。

Great, glowing names and inscriptions on waving banners of victory, the letters patent of immortality, written on the wing of an ephemera, shone down to me through the water.

睡眠很深,现在是一个没有梦的睡眠。我没有听到呼啸的风、砰砰作响的大门、邻居的门铃响,也没有听到房客吃力的体操声。

the sleep was deep, a sleep now without dreams. I did not hear the whistling wind, the banging gate, the ringing of the neighbor’s gate bell, or the lodger’s strenuous gymnastics.

多么幸福啊!

what happiness!

接着一阵强风刮来,锁着的通往姨妈房间的门被吹开了。姨妈跳起来,穿上鞋,穿好衣服,走进我的房间。她说我睡得像上帝的一个天使,她不忍心叫醒我。

then came a gust of wind so strong that the locked door to Aunty’s room burst open. Aunty jumped up, put on her shoes, got dressed, and came into my room. I was sleeping like one of God’s angels, she said, and she had not the heart to awaken me.

后来我自己醒了,睁开眼睛。我完全忘记了姨妈在房子里,但我很快就想起来了,然后想起了我牙疼时的幻觉。梦和现实交织在一起。

I later awoke by myself and opened my eyes. I had pletely forgotten that Aunty was in the house, but I soon remembered it and then remembered my toothache vision. dream and reality were blended.

“我想昨晚我们道晚安后你什么也没写吧?” 她说。“我希望你写了;你是我的诗人,永远都是!” 在我看来,她笑得有点狡黠。我不知道这是善良的、爱我的米勒姨妈,还是我前一天晚上向其许下承诺的可怕的那个人。

“I suppose you did not write anything last night after we said good night?” she said. “I wish you had; you are my poet and shall always be!” It seemed to me that she smiled rather slyly. I did not know if it was the kindly Aunty mille, who loved me, or the terrible one to whom I had made the promise the night before.

“你写了诗吗,可爱的孩子?”

“have you written any poetry, sweet child?”

“没有,没有!” 我喊道。“你是米勒姨妈,对吗?”

“No, no!” I shouted. “You are Aunty mille, aren’t you?”

“还能是谁?” 她说。这确实是米勒姨妈。

“who else?” she said. And it was Aunty mille.

她吻了我,上了一辆马车,回家了。

She kissed me, got into a carriage, and drove home.

我写下了这里所写的内容。它不是诗,也永远不会被印刷出来。是的,手稿到此结束。

I wrote down what is written here. It is not in verse, and it will never be printed. Yes, here ended the manuscript.

我的年轻朋友,杂货店伙计,找不到丢失的那些纸页了;它们像包着咸鲱鱼、黄油和绿色肥皂的纸一样走向了世界;它们完成了自己的使命!

my young friend, the grocer’s assistant, could not find the missing sheets; they had gone out into the world like the papers around the salted herring, the butter, and the green soap; they had fulfilled their destiny!

酿酒商死了;姨妈死了;学生也死了,他的天才火花进了废纸篓。

the brewer is dead; Aunty is dead; the student is dead, he whose sparks of genius went into the basket.

这就是故事的结尾 ——《牙疼姨妈》的故事。

this is the end of the story - the story of Aunty toothache.

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