雙語散文|蕭 紅——永遠(yuǎn)的憧憬和追求
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永遠(yuǎn)的憧憬和追求
一九一一年，在一個小縣城里邊，我生在一個小地主的家里。那縣城差不多就是中國的最東最北部——黑龍江省——所以一年之中，倒有四個月飄著白雪。父親常常為著貪婪而失掉了人性。他對待仆人，對待自己的兒女，以及對待我的祖父都是同樣的吝嗇而疏遠(yuǎn)，甚至于無情。
有一次，為著房屋租金的事情，父親把房客的全套的馬車趕了過來。房客的家屬們哭著訴說著，向我的祖父跪了下來，于是祖父把兩匹棕色的馬從車上解下來還了回去。
為著這匹馬，父親向祖父起著終夜的爭吵。“兩匹馬，咱們是算不了什么的，窮人，這匹馬就是命根。”祖父這樣說著，而父親還是爭吵。九歲時，母親死去。父親也就更變了樣，偶然打碎了一只杯子，他就要罵到使人發(fā)抖的程度。后來就連父親的眼睛也轉(zhuǎn)了彎，每從他的身邊經(jīng)過，我就像自己的身上生了針刺一樣；他斜視著你，他那高傲的眼光從鼻梁經(jīng)過嘴角而后往下流著。
所以每每在大雪中的黃昏里，圍著暖爐，圍著祖父，聽著祖父讀著詩篇，看著祖父讀著詩篇時微紅的嘴唇。
父親打了我的時候，我就在祖父的房里，一直面向著窗子，從黃昏到深夜——窗外的白雪，好像白棉花一樣飄著；而暖爐上水壺的蓋子，則像伴奏的樂器似的振動著。
祖父時時把多紋的兩手放在我的肩上，而后又放在我的頭上，我的耳邊便響著這樣的聲音：
“快快長吧！長大就好了。”
二十歲那年，我就逃出了父親的家庭。直到現(xiàn)在還是過著流浪的生活。
“長大”是“長大”了，而沒有“好”。
可是從祖父那里，知道了人生除掉了冰冷和憎惡而外，還有溫暖和愛。
所以我就向這“溫暖”有“愛”的方面，懷著永久的憧憬和追求。
My Everlasting Dream and Pursuit
In 1911, I was born into a petty landlord family in a remote county town in Heilongjiang Province—a town situated virtually at the northeastern tip of China. We had snow there for as long as one third of a year.Father, driven by avarice, often became very unfeeling. He would treat his servants, his own children and even my grandpa alike with meanness and indifference, not to say with ruthlessness.
Once, due to a dispute over house rent, he took away by force a tenant's horse-drawn cart and drove it home. The tenant's family came to see grandpa and, dropping to their knees, tearfully related their troubles. Grandpa unharnessed the two chestnut horses and returned them to the tenant.
That touched off a night-long quarrel between father and grandpa. "The two horses mean nothing to us, but everything to the poor," argued grandpa. Father, however, refused to listen. Mother died when I was nine. From then on father went from bad to worse. Even a mere cup accidentally broken by someone would send him into such a violent rage that we all shivered with fear. Later, whenever I happened to walk past him, he would even have his eyes directed sideways, which made me feel like being pricked all over on thorns. When he looked askance at me, superciliousness gushed from his eyes down the bridge of his nose and then off the corners of his mouth.
Often of a snowy evening, we children would hang about grandpa by a heating stove, listening to him reading poems aloud and meanwhile watching his busy ruddy lips.
Whenever father had given me a beating, I would seek solace in grandpa's room where I would stay gazing out of the window from dusk till late into the night while snowflakes were flying like cotton and the lid of the kettle over the heating stove rattling like a musical instrument playing an accompaniment.
Grandpa would place his wrinkled hands on my shoulder and then on my head, saying,
Grow up quick, poor child! You'll be all right after you've grown up.
I fled from home at twenty. And so far I still live the life of a vagrant.
True, I've "grown up", but I'm not yet "all right".
Nevertheless, from grandpa I've learned that apart from coldness and hatred, there is also warmth and love in life.
Hence my everlasting dream and pursuit of this "warmth" and "love".
蕭紅（1911一1942），黑龍江省呼蘭縣人，官僚地主家庭出身，是才華橫溢的女作家。《永遠(yuǎn)的憧憬和追求》是她應(yīng)美國友人斯諾之約而寫的小傳。文章訴說她如何在祖父的關(guān)懷和撫育下度過寂寞的幼女時代。
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