第十一个晚上
ELEVENth EVENING
“我要给你一幅庞贝的图画。” 月亮说。“我在郊区，在他们所谓的墓道上，在那些美丽的纪念碑矗立的地方，在很多年前，那些快乐的年轻人，头上戴着玫瑰花环，和莱伊斯的美丽姐妹们一起跳舞的地方。现在，死亡的寂静笼罩着四周。为那不勒斯效劳的德国雇佣兵在站岗、打牌和掷骰子；一群来自山那边的陌生人在一名哨兵的陪同下进入了这座城市。
“I will give you a picture of pompeii,” said the moon. “I was in the suburb in the Street of tombs, as they call it, where the fair monuments stand, in the spot where, ages ago, the merry youths, their temples bound with rosy wreaths, danced with the fair sisters of Lais. Now, the stillness of death reigned around. German mercenaries, in the Neapolitan service, kept guard, played cards, and diced; and a troop of strangers from beyond the mountains came into the town, acpanied by a sentry.
他们想看看这座从坟墓中崛起、被我的光芒照亮的城市；我给他们看铺着宽阔熔岩板的街道上的车辙；我给他们看门上的名字和仍然挂在那里的标志：他们在小院子里看到喷泉的水池，用贝壳装饰着；但是没有水柱向上喷涌，从绘有华丽壁画、有铜狗看门的房间里也没有传出歌声。
they wanted to see the city that had risen from the grave illumined by my beams; and I showed them the wheel-ruts in the streets paved with broad lava slabs; I showed them the names on the doors, and the signs that hung there yet: they saw in the little courtyard the basins of the fountains, ornamented with shells; but no jet of water gushed upwards, no songs sounded forth from the richly-painted chambers, where the bronze dog kept the door.
“这是一座死亡之城；只有维苏威火山轰鸣着它永恒的赞美诗，人们把它的每一节单独的诗句都称为一次喷发。我们去了用洁白大理石建造的维纳斯神庙，高高的祭坛在宽阔的台阶前面，哭泣的柳树在柱子间重新长出嫩绿的枝叶。空气透明而湛蓝，黑色的维苏威火山构成了背景，火焰不断从它那里喷出，就像松树的树干。在它上方，寂静的夜空中伸展着烟雾般的云彩，像松树的树冠，但却是血红色的光亮。在这群人中有一位女歌手，一位真正的、伟大的歌手。我在欧洲最大的城市里目睹了人们对她的敬意。当他们来到这座悲剧剧场时，他们都坐在圆形露天剧场的台阶上，于是这座剧场的一小部分被观众占据了，就像几个世纪以前一样。
“It was the city of the dead; only Vesuvius thundered forth his everlasting hymn, each separate verse of which is called by men an eruption. we went to the temple of Venus, built of snow-white marble, with its high altar in front of the broad steps, and the weeping willows sprouting freshly forth among the pillars. the air was transparent and blue, and black Vesuvius formed the background, with fire ever shooting forth from it, like the stem of the pine tree. Above it stretched the smoky cloud in the silence of the night, like the crown of the pine, but in a blood-red illumination. Among the pany was a lady singer, a real and great singer. I have witnessed the homage paid to her in the greatest cities of Europe. when they came to the tragic theatre, they all sat down on the amphitheatre steps, and thus a small part of the house was occupied by an audience, as it had been many centuries ago.
舞台依然没有变化，有带围墙的侧景和背景中的两个拱门，观众透过拱门看到的是和古代一样的景色 —— 一幅大自然自己绘制的景色，即索伦托和阿马尔菲之间的山脉。歌手欢快地登上古老的舞台，唱起歌来。这个地方给了她灵感，她让我想起一匹狂野的阿拉伯马，鼻孔喷气、鬃毛飞扬地向前猛冲 —— 她的歌声如此轻快却又如此坚定。不一会儿，我想到了在各各他十字架下哀悼的母亲，她的痛苦表情是如此深刻。就像几千年前一样，现在掌声和欢呼声充满了剧院。“快乐的、有天赋的人！” 所有的听众都赞叹道。五分钟后，舞台空了，人群消失了，再也听不到一点声音 —— 所有人都走了。但是废墟依然没有变化，几百年后它们还会这样矗立着，那时没有人会知道这短暂的掌声和美丽的女歌手的胜利；当一切都被遗忘、消失的时候，甚至对我来说，这一刻也将只是一个过去的梦。”
“the stage still stood unchanged, with its walled side-scenes, and the two arches in the background, through which the beholders saw the same scene that had been exhibited in the old times — a scene painted by nature herself, namely, the mountains between Sorento and Amalfi. the singer gaily mounted the ancient stage, and sang. the place inspired her, and she reminded me of a wild Arab horse, that rushes headlong on with snorting nostrils and flying mane — her song was so light and yet so firm. Anon I thought of the mourning mother beneath the cross at Golgotha, so deep was the expression of pain. And, just as it had done thousands of years ago, the sound of applause and delight now filled the theatre. ‘happy, gifted creature!’ all the hearers exclaimed. Five minutes more, and the stage was empty, the pany had vanished, and not a sound more was heard — all were gone. but the ruins stood unchanged, as they will stand when centuries shall have gone by, and when none shall know of the momentary applause and of the triumph of the fair songstress; when all will be forgotten and gone, and even for me this hour will be but a dream of the past.”
第十二个晚上
twELFth EVENING
“我透过一位编辑的窗户向里看。” 月亮说。“那是在德国的某个地方。我看到漂亮的家具、很多书和一堆杂乱的报纸。
“I looked through the windows of an editor’s house,” said the moon. “It was somewhere in Germany. I saw handsome furniture, many books, and a chaos of newspapers.
有几个年轻人在那里：编辑本人站在他的书桌旁，可以看到两本小书，都是年轻作者写的。“这本是寄给我的。” 他说。“我还没读呢；你觉得内容怎么样？”“哦，” 被问到的人说 —— 他自己也是个诗人 ——“还不错；当然有点浅显；但是，你知道，作者还年轻。诗句本可以更好，这是肯定的；思想是正确的，尽管其中肯定有很多陈词滥调。但你还能要求什么呢？你不可能总是得到新东西。我不相信他会写出什么伟大的作品，但你可以放心地赞扬他。他学识渊博，是一位杰出的东方学者，判断力也很强。就是他写了那篇对我的《家庭生活随想》的精彩评论。我们必须对这个年轻人宽容些。”
Several young men were present: the editor himself stood at his desk, and two little books, both by young authors, were to be noticed. ‘this one has been sent to me,’ said he. ‘I have not read it yet; what think you of the contents?’ ‘oh,’ said the person addressed — he was a poet himself— ‘it is good enough; a little broad, certainly; but, you see, the author is still young. the verses might be better, to be sure; the thoughts are sound, though there is certainly a good deal of mon-place among them. but what will you have? You can’t be always getting something new. that he’ll turn out anything great I don’t believe, but you may safely praise him. he is well read, a remarkable oriental scholar, and has a good judgment. It was he who wrote that nice review of my ‘Reflections on domestic Life.’ we must be lenient towards the young man.”
“‘但他完全是个平庸之辈！’另一位先生提出异议。‘诗歌中没有比平庸更糟糕的了，而他肯定没有超越这一点。’”
“‘but he is a plete hack!’ objected another of the gentlemen. ‘Nothing worse in poetry than mediocrity, and he certainly does not go beyond this.’
“‘可怜的家伙，’第三个人说道，‘而且他的姑妈还为他那么高兴呢。编辑先生，就是她为您上次的译着拉来了那么多订户。’
“‘poor fellow,’ observed a third, ‘and his aunt is so happy about him. It was she, mr. Editor, who got together so many subscribers for your last translation.’
“‘啊，那个好心的女人！嗯，我已经简略地留意过那本书了。无疑是有才华的——一份受欢迎的作品——诗歌园地里的一朵鲜花——装帧精美——诸如此类。不过这另一本书——我猜作者是指望我去买它吧？我听说它受到了赞扬。
“‘Ah, the good woman! well, I have noticed the book briefly. Undoubted talent — a wele offering — a flower in the garden of poetry — prettily brought out — and so on. but this other book — I suppose the author expects me to purchase it? I hear it is praised.
“他当然有天赋，你不这么认为吗？”
“he has genius, certainly: don’t you think so?”
“‘是的，全世界都这么认为。’诗人回答，‘但结果却有些狂野。尤其是这本书的标点，非常古怪。’”
“‘Yes, all the world declares as much,’ replied the poet, ‘but it has turned out rather wildly. the punctuation of the book, in particular, is very eccentric.’
“‘如果我们把他批得一无是处，让他有点生气，这对他有好处，否则他会对自己评价过高。’”
“‘It will be good for him if we pull him to pieces, and anger him a little, otherwise he will get too good an opinion of himself.’
“‘但那会不公平。’第四个人提出异议。‘我们不要挑剔小毛病，而要为我们在这里发现的真正而丰富的优点而高兴：他超越了其他人。’”
“‘but that would be unfair,’ objected the fourth. ‘Let us not carp at little faults, but rejoice over the real and abundant good that we find here: he surpasses all the rest.’
“‘不是这样。如果他是真正的天才，他就能承受严厉的批评之声。有足够多的人会赞扬他。别让我们把他捧得太高。’”
“‘Not so. If he is a true genius, he can bear the sharp voice of censure. there are people enough to praise him. don’t let us quite turn his head.’
“‘有明显的天赋，’编辑写道，‘但也一如既往地粗心。从第 25 页可以看出他会写出不正确的诗句，那里有两处格律错误。我们建议他学习古人等等。’”
“‘decided talent,’ wrote the editor, ‘with the usual carelessness. that he can write incorrect verses may be seen in page 25, where there are two false quantities. we remend him to study the ancients, etc.’
“我离开了，” 月亮继续说道，“透过那位姨妈家的窗户往里看。那位备受赞扬的诗人，温顺的那位，坐在那里；所有的客人都向他致敬，他很开心。”
“I went away,” continued the moon, “and looked through the windows in the aunt’s house. there sat the be-praised poet, the tame one; all the guests paid homage to him, and he was happy.
“我去找另一位诗人，狂野的那位；我也在他赞助人的一个盛大聚会上找到了他，在那里人们正在讨论温顺诗人的书。”
“I sought the other poet out, the wild one; him also I found in a great assembly at his patron’s, where the tame poet’s book was being discussed.
“‘我也会读你的书，’梅塞纳斯说，‘但说实话 —— 你知道我从不对你隐瞒我的看法 —— 我对它期望不高，因为你太狂野，太异想天开了。但必须承认，作为一个人，你非常值得尊敬。’”
“‘I shall read yours also,’ said maecenas; ‘but to speak honestly — you know I never hide my opinion from you — I don’t expect much from it, for you are much too wild, too fantastic. but it must be allowed that, as a man, you are highly respectable.’
一个年轻女孩坐在一个角落里，她在一本书里读到这些话：
“‘在尘埃中躺着天才和荣耀，
但日常的才能会有回报。
这只是古老的故事，
但这一幕每天都在重演。’”
“A young girl sat in a corner; and she read in a book these words:
‘In the dust lies genius and glory,
but ev’ry-day talent will pay.
It’s only the old, old story,
but the piece is repeated each day.’”
第十三个晚上
thIRtEENth EVENING
月亮说：“在林间小道旁边有两座小农舍。门很低，有些窗户安装得很高，有些则靠近地面；白刺和伏牛花灌木丛生长在它们周围。每座房子的屋顶都长满了青苔、黄色的花朵和长生草。花园里只种着卷心菜和土豆，但树篱外长着一棵柳树，柳树下坐着一个小女孩，她眼睛盯着两座小屋之间的那棵老橡树。
“the moon said, “beside the woodland path there are two small farm-houses. the doors are low, and some of the windows are placed quite high, and others close to the ground; and whitethorn and barberry bushes grow around them. the roof of each house is overgrown with moss and with yellow flowers and houseleek. cabbage and potatoes are the only plants cultivated in the gardens, but out of the hedge there grows a willow tree, and under this willow tree sat a little girl, and she sat with her eyes fixed upon the old oak tree between the two huts.
“那是一根古老的、枯萎的树干。它的顶部被锯掉了，一只鹳在上面筑了巢；它站在巢里，用嘴拍打着。一个小男孩走过来站在女孩旁边：他们是兄妹。
“It was an old withered stem. It had been sawn off at the top, and a stork had built his nest upon it; and he stood in this nest clapping with his beak. A little boy came and stood by the girl’s side: they were brother and sister.
“‘你在看什么？’他问。
“‘what are you looking at?’ he asked.
“‘我在看鹳。’她回答说，‘我们的邻居告诉我，今天它会给我们带来一个小弟弟或小妹妹；我们看着它来吧！’
“‘I’m watching the stork,’ she replied: ‘our neighbors told me that he would bring us a little brother or sister to-day; let us watch to see it e!’
“‘鹳不会带来这样的东西。’男孩断言，‘你可以肯定这一点。我们的邻居也跟我这么说，但她说的时候笑了，所以我让她发誓‘以我的名誉担保’，可她做不到；我由此知道鹳送宝宝的故事不是真的，他们只是为了逗我们孩子才这么说的。’
“‘the stork brings no such things,’ the boy declared, ‘you may be sure of that.our neighbor told me the same thing, but she laughed when she said it, and so I asked her if she could say ‘on my honor,’ and she could not; and I know by that the story about the storks is not true, and that they only tell it to us children for fun.’
“‘那宝宝是从哪儿来的呢？’女孩问。
“‘but where do babies e from, then?’ asked the girl.
“哎呀，是一位来自天堂的天使把它们藏在他的斗篷下带来的，但是没人能看见他；这就是为什么我们永远不知道他什么时候把它们带来。”
“‘why, an angel from heaven brings them under his cloak, but no man can see him; and that’s why we never know when he brings them.’
“就在这时，柳树枝头沙沙作响，孩子们双手合十，面面相觑：肯定是送宝宝的天使来了。他们牵起彼此的手，就在这时，其中一间屋子的门打开了，邻居出现了。
“At that moment there was a rustling in the branches of the willow tree, and the children folded their hands and looked at one another: it was certainly the angel ing with the baby. they took each other’s hand, and at that moment the door of one of the houses opened, and the neighbour appeared.
“‘进来吧，你们俩。’她说。‘看看鹳带来了什么。是个小弟弟呢。’
‘e in, you two,’ she said. ‘See what the stork has brought. It is a little brother.’
“孩子们郑重地点点头，因为他们早就确信宝宝已经来了。”
“And the children nodded gravely at one another, for they had felt quite sure already that the baby was e.”
第十四个晚上
FoURtEENth EVENING
“我正掠过吕讷堡荒原。” 月亮说。“路边有一间孤零零的小屋，附近长着几棵稀疏的灌木，一只迷路的夜莺婉转地歌唱着。它在寒夜中死去：我听到的是它的告别之歌。
“I was gliding over the Luneburg heath,” the moon said. “A lonely hut stood by the wayside, a few scanty bushes grew near it, and a nightingale who had lost his way sang sweetly. he died in the coldness of the night: it was his farewell song that I heard.
“黎明破晓，曙光微红。我看到一队移民农民家庭，他们要前往汉堡，在那里乘船去美国，在那里他们想象中的繁荣将会绽放。
“the morning dawn came glimmering red. I saw a caravan of emigrant peasant families who were bound to hamburgh, there to take ship for America, where fancied prosperity would bloom for them.
母亲们把小孩子背在背上，大一点的孩子在她们身边蹒跚而行，一匹瘦弱饥饿的马拖着一辆装着他们少得可怜的家当的马车。
the mothers carried their little children at their backs, the elder ones tottered by their sides, and a poor starved horse tugged at a cart that bore their scanty effects.
寒风吹着，因此小女孩紧紧依偎在母亲身边。母亲抬头看着我渐渐变小的圆盘，想起了家里的贫困，说起了他们无法筹集到的沉重税款。
the cold wind whistled, and therefore the little girl nestled closer to the mother, who, looking up at my decreasing disc, thought of the bitter want at home, and spoke of the heavy taxes they had not been able to raise.
整个队伍都在想着同样的事情；因此，初升的太阳在他们看来似乎是太阳传来的一个关于财富的信息，财富将会在他们身上闪耀。
the whole caravan thought of the same thing; therefore, the rising dawn seemed to them a message from the sun, of fortune that was to gleam brightly upon them.
他们听到了垂死的夜莺的歌唱；它不是一个假先知，而是财富的预兆。
they heard the dying nightingale sing; it was no false prophet, but a harbinger of fortune.
风在吹着，因此他们不明白夜莺在唱着：“远渡重洋吧！你已用你所有的一切支付了漫长的旅程，你将贫穷而无助地进入迦南。你必须卖掉你自己、你的妻子和你的孩子。但是你的悲伤不会持续太久。在宽大芬芳的树叶后面潜伏着死亡女神，她欢迎的吻将把热病吹进你的血液。远去吧，远去吧，越过汹涌的波涛。”
the wind whistled, therefore they did not understand that the nightingale sung, ‘Fare away over the sea! thou hast paid the long passage with all that was thine, and poor and helpless shalt thou enter canaan. thou must sell thyself, thy wife, and thy children. but your griefs shall not last long. behind the broad fragrant leaves lurks the goddess of death, and her wele kiss shall breathe fever into thy blood. Fare away, fare away, over the heaving billows.’
队伍愉快地听着夜莺的歌声，这歌声似乎预示着好运。
And the caravan listened well pleased to the song of the nightingale, which seemed to promise good fortune.
天亮了，透过淡淡的云彩；乡下人穿过荒地去做礼拜；穿着黑色长袍、戴着白色头巾的妇女们看起来就像从教堂的画里走出来的鬼魂。
day broke through the light clouds; country people went across the heath to church; the black-gowned women with their white head-dresses looked like ghosts that had stepped forth from the church pictures.
四周是一片广阔的死寂平原，覆盖着褪色的棕色石南，白色沙丘之间是黑色烧焦的地方。
“All around lay a wide dead plain, covered with faded brown heath, and black charred spaces between the white sand hills.
女人们拿着赞美诗集，走进教堂。哦，祈祷吧，为那些在波涛汹涌的大海之外寻找坟墓的人祈祷吧。”
“the women carried hymn books, and walked into the church. oh, pray, pray for those who are wandering to find graves beyond the foaming billows.”
第十五个晚上
FIFtEENth EVENING
“我认识一个普尔钦奈拉。” 月亮告诉我。“人们一看到他就大声喝彩。他的每一个动作都很滑稽，肯定会让全场哄堂大笑；然而这其中毫无技巧可言 —— 完全是天性使然。当他还是个小男孩，和其他男孩一起玩耍的时候，他就已经是个小丑了。天性注定了他要成为这样，在他背上和胸前各长了一个驼峰；但相反，他的内心世界，他的思想却很丰富。在情感的深度和思维的敏捷度上，没人能超越他。剧院是他的理想世界。如果他有一个苗条匀称的身材，他可能会成为任何舞台上的第一悲剧演员；英雄气概和伟大之处充满了他的灵魂；然而他却不得不成为一个普尔钦奈拉。他的悲伤和忧郁只会增加他轮廓分明的脸上那种滑稽的干涩感，也会增加观众的笑声，他们为自己喜爱的演员热烈鼓掌。可爱的科隆比娜确实对他很亲切、很热情；但她更喜欢嫁给哈利昆。”
“I know a pulcinella,” the moon told me. “the public applaud vociferously directly they see him. Every one of his movements is ic, and is sure to throw the house into convulsions of laughter; and yet there is no art in it all — it is plete nature. when he was yet a little boy, playing about with other boys, he was already punch. Nature had intended him for it, and had provided him with a hump on his back, and another on his breast; but his inward man, his mind, on the contrary, was richly furnished. No one could surpass him in depth of feeling or in readiness of intellect. the theatre was his ideal world. If he had possessed a slender well-shaped figure, he might have been the first tragedian on any stage; the heroic, the great, filled his soul; and yet he had to bee a pulcinella. his very sorrow and melancholy did but increase the ic dryness of his sharply-cut features, and increased the laughter of the audience, who showered plaudits on their favourite. the lovely columbine was indeed kind and cordial to him; but she preferred to marry the harlequin.
如果美与丑真的结合在一起，那可就太荒唐了。
“It would have been too ridiculous if beauty and ugliness had in reality paired together.
“当普尔钦奈拉情绪非常低落的时候，只有她能让他开怀大笑，甚至露出笑容：一开始她会和他一起忧伤，然后安静一些，最后变得非常愉快和开心。‘我很清楚你怎么了。’她说，‘是的，你恋爱了！’他忍不住笑了起来。‘我和爱情，’他叫道，‘那会很滑稽。观众会怎么喊啊！’‘当然，你恋爱了。’她接着说，带着一种滑稽的感伤，‘而我就是你爱的人。’你看，当完全不可能的时候，可以这么说 —— 事实上，普尔钦奈拉大笑起来，跳了起来，他的忧伤被忘记了。
“when pulcinella was in very bad spirits, she was the only one who could force a hearty burst of laughter, or even a smile from him: first she would be melancholy with him, then quieter, and at last quite cheerful and happy. ‘I know very well what is the matter with you,’ she said; ‘yes, you’re in love!’ And he could not help laughing. ‘I and Love,” he cried, “that would have an absurd look. how the public would shout!’ ‘certainly, you are in love,’ she continued; and added with a ic pathos, ‘and I am the person you are in love with.’ You see, such a thing may be said when it is quite out of the question — and, indeed, pulcinella burst out laughing, and gave a leap into the air, and his melancholy was forgotten.
“然而她只是说出了事实。他确实爱她，热烈地爱着她，就像他热爱艺术中伟大和崇高的东西一样。在她的婚礼上，他是客人中最快乐的一个，但在寂静的夜晚他哭泣了：如果观众当时看到他扭曲的脸，他们会热烈鼓掌的。
“And yet she had only spoken the truth. he did love her, love her adoringly, as he loved what was great and lofty in art. At her wedding he was the merriest among the guests, but in the stillness of night he wept: if the public had seen his distorted face then, they would have applauded rapturously.
“几天前，科隆比娜去世了。在葬礼那天，哈利昆不必在舞台上露面，因为他是一个悲痛欲绝的鳏夫。导演不得不演一出非常欢快的戏，这样观众才不会太痛苦地想念美丽的科隆比娜和敏捷的哈利昆。
“And a few days ago, columbine died. on the day of the funeral, harlequin was not required to show himself on the boards, for he was a disconsolate widower. the director had to give a very merry piece, that the public might not too painfully miss the pretty columbine and the agile harlequin.
因此普尔钦奈拉不得不比以往更加喧闹和放肆；他跳着舞，蹦蹦跳跳，心里充满绝望；观众们欢呼着，高喊着 “好啊，太棒了！” 普尔钦奈拉实际上被叫到了幕前。他被宣布是无与伦比的。
“therefore pulcinella had to be more boisterous and extravagant than ever; and he danced and capered, with despair in his heart; and the audience yelled, and shouted ‘bravo, bravissimo!’ pulcinella was actually called before the curtain. he was pronounced inimitable.
“但是昨晚这个丑陋的小家伙独自一人走出城，来到了荒无人烟的教堂墓地。科隆比娜坟墓上的花环已经枯萎了，他坐在那里。这是画家的一幅写生画。他手托着下巴坐在那里，眼睛望着我，他看起来像一座怪诞的纪念碑 —— 坟墓上的一个小丑 —— 奇特而古怪！如果人们看到了他们喜爱的演员，他们会像往常一样喊道，‘好啊，普尔钦奈拉；好啊，太棒了！’”
“but last night the hideous little fellow went out of the town, quite alone, to the deserted churchyard. the wreath of flowers on columbine’s grave was already faded, and he sat down there. It was a study for a painter. As he sat with his chin on his hands, his eyes turned up towards me, he looked like a grotesque monument — a punch on a grave — peculiar and whimsical! If the people could have seen their favourite, they would have cried as usual, ‘bravo, pulcinella; bravo, bravissimo!’”
第十六个晚上
SIxtEENth EVENING
听听月亮跟我讲的事儿吧。“我见过刚被任命为军官的军校学员第一次穿上他那帅气的制服；我见过年轻的新娘穿着她的婚纱，还有那位公主模样的年轻妻子穿着华丽的长袍满心欢喜；但我从未见过像今晚我所看到的一个四岁小女孩那样的幸福模样。她收到了一件崭新的蓝色连衣裙和一顶崭新的粉红色帽子，华丽的服饰刚穿戴好，大家就都嚷着要拿蜡烛来，因为我透过房间窗户洒进来的光线对当时的场合来说不够亮，还需要更多的光亮。
“hear what the moon told me. I have seen the cadet who had just been made an officer put on his handsome uniform for the first time; I have seen the young bride in her wedding dress, and the princess girl-wife happy in her gorgeous robes; but never have I seen a felicity equal to that of a little girl of four years old, whom I watched this evening. She had received a new blue dress, and a new pink hat, the splendid attire had just been put on, and all were calling for a candle, for my rays, shining in through the windows of the room, were not bright enough for the occasion, and further illumination was required.
小女孩笔直地站着，像个洋娃娃一样僵硬，她的胳膊痛苦地直直伸着，远离衣服，手指分开；哦，她的眼睛里和整个脸上闪耀着多么幸福的光芒啊！“明天你就穿着新衣服出去。” 她妈妈说；小女孩抬头看看她的帽子，又低头看看她的连衣裙，开心地笑了。“妈妈，” 她叫道，“当小狗们看到我穿着这些漂亮的新衣服时，它们会怎么想呢？”
“there stood the little maid, stiff and upright as a doll, her arms stretched painfully straight out away from the dress, and her fingers apart; and oh, what happiness beamed from her eyes, and from her whole countenance! ‘to-morrow you shall go out in your new clothes,’ said her mother; and the little one looked up at her hat, and down at her frock, and smiled brightly. ‘mother,’ she cried, ‘what will the little dogs think, when they see me in these splendid new things?’”
第十七个晚上
SEVENtEENth EVENING
“我跟你说过庞贝。” 月亮说，“那座城市的尸体，暴露在现存的城镇面前：我还知道一个更奇怪的景象，这不是尸体，而是一座城市的幽灵。每当码头的喷泉把水喷进大理石水池，在我看来，它们似乎在讲述那座漂浮城市的故事。是的，喷涌的水可以讲述她的故事，大海的波浪可以歌唱她的名声！海面上常常笼罩着一层薄雾，那是她的寡妇面纱。大海的新郎死了，他的宫殿和他的城市是他的陵墓！你知道这座城市吗？在她的街道上，从没听到过车轮的辘辘声或马蹄的得得声，鱼儿在街道里游过，而黑色的凤尾船幽灵般地滑过绿色的水面。我将指给你那个地方。” 月亮继续说，“那是城里最大的广场，你会觉得自己仿佛被带到了一个童话城市。”
“I have spoken to you of pompeii,” said the moon; “that corpse of a city, exposed in the view of living towns: I know another sight still more strange, and this is not the corpse, but the spectre of a city. whenever the jetty fountains splash into the marble basins, they seem to me to be telling the story of the floating city. Yes, the spouting water may tell of her, the waves of the sea may sing of her fame! on the surface of the ocean a mist often rests, and that is her widow’s veil. the bridegroom of the sea is dead, his palace and his city are his mausoleum! dost thou know this city? She has never heard the rolling of wheels or the hoof-tread of horses in her streets, through which the fish swim, while the black gondola glides spectrally over the green water. I will show you the place,” continued the moon, “the largest square in it, and you will fancy yourself transported into the city of a fairy tale.
野草在宽阔的石板间茂盛地生长，在晨曦中，成千上万只温顺的鸽子在那座孤零零的高塔周围扑腾。三面都是有回廊的通道。在这些通道里，沉默的土耳其人坐着抽着他的长烟斗，英俊的希腊人靠在柱子上，凝视着高高举起的战利品和高耸的桅杆，那是逝去的权力的纪念。旗帜像哀悼的围巾一样垂着。一个女孩在那里休息：她放下了沉重的装满水的水桶，挑水的扁担还搭在她的一个肩膀上，她靠在胜利的桅杆上。你在那边看到的不是一座童话中的宫殿，而是一座教堂：镀金的圆顶和闪亮的圆球反射着我的光芒；那边的青铜骏马像童话里的青铜马一样曾经远行过：它们来到这里，又离去，然后又回来了。你注意到墙壁和窗户那五彩斑斓的壮丽景象了吗？在装饰这些奇特的庙宇时，看起来就像天才听从了一个孩子的突发奇想。你看到柱子上有翼的狮子了吗？金子仍然闪闪发光，但它的翅膀被缚住了 —— 狮子死了，因为海之王死了；宏伟的大厅一片荒凉，曾经挂着华丽绘画的地方，现在露出了光秃秃的墙壁。流浪汉睡在拱廊下，在过去，拱廊的路面只有高贵的人才能踩踏。
the grass grows rank among the broad flagstones, and in the morning twilight thousands of tame pigeons flutter around the solitary lofty tower. on three sides you find yourself surrounded by cloistered walks. In these the silent turk sits smoking his long pipe, the handsome Greek leans against the pillar and gazes at the upraised trophies and lofty masts, memorials of power that is gone. the flags hang down like mourning scarves. A girl rests there: she has put down her heavy pails filled with water, the yoke with which she has carried them rests on one of her shoulders, and she leans against the mast of victory. that is not a fairy palace you see before you yonder, but a church: the gilded domes and shining orbs flash back my beams; the glorious bronze horses up yonder have made journeys, like the bronze horse in the fairy tale: they have e hither, and gone hence, and have returned again. do you notice the variegated splendour of the walls and windows? It looks as if Genius had followed the caprices of a child, in the adornment of these singular temples. do you see the winged lion on the pillar? the gold glitters still, but his wings are tied — the lion is dead, for the king of the sea is dead; the great halls stand desolate, and where gorgeous paintings hung of yore, the naked wall now peers through. the lazzarone sleeps under the arcade, whose pavement in old times was to be trodden only by the feet of high nobility.
从深井里，也许是从叹息桥边的监狱里，传出悲哀的声音，就像当年在欢快的凤尾船里听到手鼓的声音，从总督的游船 “布森托罗” 号上把金戒指扔向亚得里亚海 —— 海之女王的时候一样。亚得里亚海！用雾把你自己裹起来吧；让你寡妇的面纱裹住你的身躯，给你的新郎 —— 大理石砌成的幽灵般的威尼斯 —— 这座陵墓披上悲哀的野草。”
“From the deep wells, and perhaps from the prisons by the bridge of Sighs, rise the accents of woe, as at the time when the tambourine was heard in the gay gondolas, and the golden ring was cast from the bucentaur to Adria, the queen of the seas. Adria! shroud thyself in mists; let the veil of thy widowhood shroud thy form, and clothe in the weeds of woe the mausoleum of thy bridegroom — the marble, spectral Venice.”
第十八个晚上
EIGhtEENth EVENING
“我俯瞰着一座大剧院。” 月亮说。“剧院里座无虚席，因为当晚有一位新演员要首次登台亮相。我的光芒滑过墙上的一扇小窗户，我看到一张化了妆的脸，额头紧贴着窗玻璃。那是当晚的主角。骑士般的胡须在下巴上卷曲着；但这个人的眼睛里含着泪水，因为他被嘘下了台，而且确实是有原因的。可怜的无能之辈！但是无能之辈是不能进入艺术王国的。他感情深沉，对自己的艺术充满热情，但艺术并不爱他。提示员的铃声响了；‘英雄坚定地登场’，他的角色说明上是这么写的，而他不得不出现在一群把他变成笑柄的观众面前。演出结束后，我看到一个裹着披风的身影悄悄走下台阶：那是当晚失败的骑士。舞台工作人员窃窃私语，我跟着这个可怜的人回到了他的房间。”
“I looked down upon a great theatre,” said the moon. “the house was crowded, for a new actor was to make his first appearance that night. my rays glided over a little window in the wall, and I saw a painted face with the forehead pressed against the panes. It was the hero of the evening. the knighly beard curled crisply about the chin; but there were tears in the man’s eyes, for he had been hissed off, and indeed with reason. the poor Incapable! but Incapables cannot be admitted into the empire of Art. he had deep feeling, and loved his art enthusiastically, but the art loved not him. the prompter’s bell sounded; ‘the hero enters with a determined air,’ so ran the stage direction in his part, and he had to appear before an audience who turned him into ridicule. when the piece was over, I saw a form wrapped in a mantle, creeping down the steps: it was the vanquished knight of the evening. the scene-shifters whispered to one another, and I followed the poor fellow home to his room.
上吊是一种可耻的死法，而毒药也不是随时都有，这我知道；但他想到了这两种死法。我看到他看着镜子里自己苍白的脸，眼睛半闭着，想看看自己死了以后会不会好看。一个人可能非常不幸，但又极其做作。他想到了死，想到了自杀；我相信他是在可怜自己，因为他悲痛地哭了起来，而一个人痛痛快快地哭一场之后是不会自杀的。
“to hang one’s self is to die a mean death, and poison is not always at hand, I know; but he thought of both. I saw how he looked at his pale face in the glass, with eyes half closed, to see if he should look well as a corpse. A man may be very unhappy, and yet exceedingly affected. he thought of death, of suicide; I believe he pitied himself, for he wept bitterly, and when a man has had his cry out he doesn’t kill himself.
“从那以后，一年过去了。又有一场戏要演了，但在一个小剧院里，由一个可怜的巡回剧团演出。我又看到了那张记忆犹新的脸，涂着胭脂的脸颊和卷曲的胡须。他抬头看着我，笑了；然而仅仅一分钟之前他还被人嘘下了台 —— 被一个可怜的观众从一个糟糕的剧院里嘘下了台。今晚，一辆破旧的灵车驶出了城门。这是一起自杀事件 —— 我们那个化了妆、遭人鄙视的英雄。灵车的车夫是唯一在场的人，因为除了我的光芒之外，没有人跟随。在教堂墓地的一个角落里，自杀者的尸体被铲进了土里，很快荨麻就会在他的坟墓上茂盛地生长起来，教堂司事会把从其他坟墓上拔来的荆棘和野草扔在他的坟墓上。”
“Since that time a year had rolled by. Again a play was to be acted, but in a little theatre, and by a poor strolling pany. Again I saw the well-remembered face, with the painted cheeks and the crisp beard. he looked up at me and smiled; and yet he had been hissed off only a minute before — hissed off from a wretched theatre, by a miserable audience. And tonight a shabby hearse rolled out of the town-gate. It was a suicide — our painted, despised hero. the driver of the hearse was the only person present, for no one followed except my beams. In a corner of the churchyard the corpse of the suicide was shovelled into the earth, and nettles will soon be growing rankly over his grave, and the sexton will throw thorns and weeds from the other graves upon it.”
第十九个晚上
NINEtEENth EVENING
“我来自罗马。” 月亮说。“在城市的中央，在七座山的一座山上，坐落着皇宫的废墟。”
“I e from Rome,” said the moon. “In the midst of the city, upon one of the seven hills, lie the ruins of the imperial palace.
无花果树在墙缝里生长，用它宽大的灰绿色叶子遮住了墙壁的赤裸之处；驴子在垃圾堆中践踏，踩在绿色的月桂树上，为茂盛的蓟草而高兴。从这个曾经有罗马雄鹰飞出的地方，从他们 “来了，看见了，征服了” 的地方，我们的门通向一座简陋的小房子，它用粘土建造在两根柱子之间；野葡萄像一条哀悼的花环一样悬挂在弯曲的窗户上。一位老妇人和她的小孙女住在那里：现在她们统治着恺撒的宫殿，并向陌生人展示着它昔日辉煌的遗迹。曾经辉煌的王座大厅现在只剩下一面光秃秃的墙壁，一棵黑色的柏树把它深色的影子投在曾经放王座的地方。破碎的路面上积了几英尺厚的灰尘；这个小少女，现在是皇宫的女儿，常常在晚钟敲响的时候坐在她的凳子上。她把旁边门的钥匙孔叫做她的塔楼窗户；透过这个窗户，她可以看到半个罗马，一直看到圣彼得大教堂巨大的圆顶。
“the wild fig tree grows in the clefts of the wall, and covers the nakedness thereof with its broad grey-green leaves; trampling among heaps of rubbish, the ass treads upon green laurels, and rejoices over the rank thistles. From this spot, whence the eagles of Rome once flew abroad, whence they ‘came, saw, and conquered,’ our door leads into a little mean house, built of clay between two pillars; the wild vine hangs like a mourning garland over the crooked window. An old woman and her little granddaughter live there: they rule now in the palace of the caesars, and show to strangers the remains of its past glories. of the splendid throne-hall only a naked wall yet stands, and a black cypress throws its dark shadow on the spot where the throne once stood. the dust lies several feet deep on the broken pavement; and the little maiden, now the daughter of the imperial palace, often sits there on her stool when the evening bells ring. the keyhole of the door close by she calls her turret window; through this she can see half Rome, as far as the mighty cupola of St. peter’s.
“在这个晚上，像往常一样，四周一片寂静；在我的明亮光芒下，小孙女走了过来。她头上顶着一个古式的陶罐，里面装满了水。她光着脚，短上衣和白色的袖子都破了。我亲吻了她漂亮的圆肩膀、她的黑眼睛和乌黑闪亮的头发。”
“on this evening, as usual, stillness reigned around; and in the full beam of my light came the little granddaughter. on her head she carried an earthen pitcher of antique shape filled with water. her feet were bare, her short frock and her white sleeves were torn. I kissed her pretty round shoulders, her dark eyes, and black shining hair.
她走上楼梯；楼梯很陡，是用粗糙的碎大理石块和一根倒下的柱子的柱头砌成的。彩色的蜥蜴受了惊，从她脚边溜走了，但她并不害怕它们。她已经抬起手去拉门铃了 —— 一只系在绳子上的野兔脚构成了皇宫的门铃拉手。她停顿了一会儿 —— 她在想什么呢？也许是在想那穿着金衣服和银衣服的美丽的圣婴，圣婴在下面的小教堂里，那里银烛台闪闪发光，她的小伙伴们在那里唱着赞美诗，她也可以一起唱？我不知道。不一会儿，她又动了起来 —— 她绊了一下：陶罐从她头上掉下来，摔在大理石台阶上摔碎了。她大哭起来。皇宫美丽的女儿为那不值钱的破罐子哭泣；她光着脚站在那里哭泣；不敢去拉那根绳子，那皇宫的门铃绳！”
“She mounted the stairs; they were steep, having been made up of rough blocks of broken marble and the capital of a fallen pillar. the coloured lizards slipped away, startled, from before her feet, but she was not frightened at them. Already she lifted her hand to pull the door-bell — a hare’s foot fastened to a string formed the bell-handle of the imperial palace. She paused for a moment — of what might she be thinking? perhaps of the beautiful christ-child, dressed in gold and silver, which was down below in the chapel, where the silver candlesticks gleamed so bright, and where her little friends sung the hymns in which she also could join? I know not. presently she moved again — she stumbled: the earthen vessel fell from her head, and broke on the marble steps. She burst into tears. the beautiful daughter of the imperial palace wept over the worthless broken pitcher; with her bare feet she stood there weeping; and dared not pull the string, the bell-rope of the imperial palace!”
第二十个晚上
twENtIEth EVENING
月亮已经有两个多星期没有露面了。现在，他又圆又亮地出现在云层之上，缓缓前行。听听月亮告诉我的话。
“It was more than a fortnight since the moon had shone. Now he stood once more, round and bright, above the clouds, moving slowly onward. hear what the moon told me.
“From a town in Fezzan I followed a caravan. on the margin of the sandy desert, in a salt plain, that shone like a frozen lake, and was only covered in spots with light drifting sand, a halt was made.
队伍中最年长的人 —— 水葫芦挂在他的腰带上，头上戴着一小袋无酵饼 —— 用他的手杖在沙地上画了一个正方形，在里面写了几句《古兰经》上的话，然后整个商队从这个神圣的地方走过。一个年轻的商人，从他的眼神和身材我可以看出他是东方人，骑着他那匹喷着鼻息的白色骏马，若有所思地向前走着。他是不是在想念他美丽年轻的妻子呢？就在两天前，那头装饰着毛皮和昂贵披肩的骆驼驮着她，这位美丽的新娘，绕着城墙走了一圈，鼓声和钹声齐鸣，妇女们唱着歌，喜庆的枪声此起彼伏，新郎放的枪声最多，在骆驼周围回荡；而现在他正和商队一起穿越沙漠。
“the eldest of the pany — the water gourd hung at his girdle, and on his head was a little bag of unleavened bread — drew a square in the sand with his staff, and wrote in it a few words out of the Koran, and then the whole caravan passed over the consecrated spot. A young merchant, a child of the East, as I could tell by his eye and his figure, rode pensively forward on his white snorting steed. was he thinking, perchance, of his fair young wife? It was only two days ago that the camel, adorned with furs and with costly shawls, had carried her, the beauteous bride, round the walls of the city, while drums and cymbals had sounded, the women sang, and festive shots, of which the bridegroom fired the greatest number, resounded round the camel; and now he was journeying with the caravan across the desert.
“很多个夜晚我都跟着这支队伍。我看见他们在矮小的棕榈树旁的井边休息；他们把刀刺进倒下的骆驼的胸膛，在火上烤它的肉。我的光芒冷却了炽热的沙子，让他们看到了黑色的岩石，那是浩瀚沙海中的死岛。在他们没有路径的旅途中没有遇到敌对的部落，没有暴风雨，没有沙柱在旅行的商队上方旋转带来毁灭。在家里，美丽的妻子为她的丈夫和父亲祈祷。‘他们死了吗？’她问我的金色新月；‘他们死了吗？’她对着我的满月呼喊。现在沙漠在他们身后了。”
“For many nights I followed the train. I saw them rest by the wellside among the stunted palms; they thrust the knife into the breast of the camel that had fallen, and roasted its flesh by the fire. my beams cooled the glowing sands, and showed them the black rocks, dead islands in the immense ocean of sand. No hostile tribes met them in their pathless route, no storms arose, no columns of sand whirled destruction over the journeying caravan. At home the beautiful wife prayed for her husband and her father. ‘Are they dead?’ she asked of my golden crescent; ‘Are they dead?’ she cried to my full disc. Now the desert lies behind them.
今晚他们坐在高大的棕榈树下，鹤在他们周围扑打着长长的翅膀，鹈鹕在含羞树的树枝上看着他们。茂盛的野草被大象的脚踩倒、压碎。一群黑人从内地的一个集市回来：女人们黑色的头发上别着铜纽扣，穿着染成靛蓝色的衣服，赶着驮着重物的牛，赤裸的黑人小孩在牛背上睡觉。一个黑人用绳子牵着一只他带来的小狮子。他们走近商队；年轻的商人坐着，若有所思、一动不动，想着他美丽的妻子，在黑人的土地上，梦想着沙漠那边他的白百合。他抬起头，然后 ——” 但是就在这时，一片云从月亮前飘过，接着又是一片。今晚我再也没有听到他说什么了。
“this evening they sit beneath the lofty palm trees, where the crane flutters round them with its long wings, and the pelican watches them from the branches of the mimosa. the luxuriant herbage is trampled down, crushed by the feet of elephants. A troop of negroes are returning from a market in the interior of the land: the women, with copper buttons in their black hair, and decked out in clothes dyed with indigo, drive the heavily-laden oxen, on whose backs slumber the naked black children. A negro leads a young lion which he has brought, by a string. they approach the caravan; the young merchant sits pensive and motionless, thinking of his beautiful wife, dreaming, in the land of the blacks, of his white lily beyond the desert. he raises his head, and—” but at this moment a cloud passed before the moon, and then another. I heard nothing more from him this evening.