【时间旅行者的妻子】98
时间:2017-03-29 06:02:59
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(单词翻译)
The Berghoff is warm, and noisy. There are quite a few people, eating and
standing1 around. The
legendary2 Berghoff waiters are
bustling3 importantly from kitchen to table. I stand in line,
thawing4 out, amidst
chattering5 families and couples. Eventually I am led to a small table in the main dining room, toward the back. I order a dark beer and a plate of duck wursts with spaetzle. When the food comes, I eat slowly. I polish off all the bread, too, and realize that I can’t remember eating lunch. This is good, I’m taking care of myself, I’m not being an idiot, I’m remembering to eat dinner. I lean back in my chair and survey the room. Under the high ceilings, dark paneling, and murals of boats,
middle-aged6 couples eat their dinners. They have spent the afternoon shopping, or at the symphony, and they talk pleasantly of the presents they have bought, their grandchildren, plane tickets and arrival times, Mozart. I have an urge to go to the symphony, now, but there’s no evening program. Dad is probably on his way home from Orchestra Hall. I would sit in the upper reaches of the uppermost balcony (the best place to sit, acoustically) and listen to Das Lied von der Erde, or Beethoven, or something similarly un-Christmasy. Oh well. Maybe next year. I have a sudden glimpse of all the Christmases of my life lined up one after another, waiting to be gotten through, and despair floods me. No. I wish for a moment that Time would lift me out of this day, and into some more
benign7 one. But then I feel guilty for wanting to avoid the sadness; dead people need us to remember them, even if it eats us, even if all we can do is say I’m sorry until it is as meaningless as air. I don’t want to burden this warm
festive8 restaurant with grief that I would have to recall the next time I’m here with Gram and Gramps, so I pay and leave.
Back on the street, I stand pondering. I don’t want to go home.
然后我又走到溜冰场。几对男女,还有一些孩子正在溜冰,他们相互追逐,有倒着滑的,有滑8字的。我租了双尺码差不多的溜冰鞋,系上鞋带,走进场子里。我沿着溜冰场绕圈,轻松从容,什么都不想。重复,动作,平衡,冷风,感觉很不错。太阳正在西沉,我滑了大约一个小时,还了溜冰鞋,套上靴子,继续前进。
我沿着鲁道夫大街往西,拐到密歇根大道再向南,经过芝加哥美术馆,门口的狮子戴上了圣诞花环。我沿着哥伦布大街走,格兰特公园里空空如也,只剩下几只乌鸦,在傍晚微微发蓝的雪地上阔步,盘旋。路灯把头顶的天空映成了橘黄色,湖那边的天空则是一片深深的蔚蓝。在白金汉喷泉边,我站立良久,看着成群的海鸥时而绕圈飞翔,时而下沉争抢路人喂食的面包,直到冷得再也无法忍受。一名骑警一度骑着马,缓缓绕了喷泉一周,然后气定神闲地向南巡逻去了。
我走着,靴子并不防水,尽管穿了好几件毛衣,对于不停下降的气温,我的大衣还是太单薄了。我也没有足够的脂肪,每年十一月到次年四月间,我总会觉得冷。我沿着哈里森大街,来到国立街。我经过太平洋花园教会,无家可归的人为了投宿和食物聚集一堂,我想,今晚他们吃些什么?收留所里是否也有欢庆呢?没有汽车。我也没有手表,估计已经七点了。最近我对时间的感觉有点特别,仿佛时间在我身上走得比别人慢一些,一个下午犹如一整天,一程地铁仿佛一场史诗之旅。今天更是冗长不堪,整天我都一直努力不去想妈妈,想那场车祸,想所有的一切……可是现在,在夜里,我走着,这些念头全都追上了我。我饿了,酒已经喝完了,人也快走到亚当斯街了。我盘算了一下口袋里剩下的现金,然后决定去贝格豪夫,那家啤酒鼎鼎有名的老牌德国餐馆。
贝格豪夫温暖又喧闹。已经有不少人了,吃着的,站着的,贝格豪夫传奇的侍者们神情庄重地往返于厨房和餐桌之间。我排在候餐的队伍中,前后都是唧唧喳喳的家家对对,我开始逐渐融化。终于我被引到主厅后的一张小桌旁。我点了黑啤,一盆鸭肉香肠佐鸡蛋面疙瘩。菜端了上来,我细嚼慢咽,把沾在面包上的酱汁都吃光了,才发现自己怎么也想不起来我是否吃过午饭。真好,我学会照顾自己了,我不再是傻瓜了,我记得吃晚饭了。我靠在椅背上扫视四周,高高的天顶、深色的镶板和壁画上的小船下面,正在共进晚餐的中年伴侣们。他们整个下午都在采购,或者听音乐会,他们正愉快地谈论买来的礼物、儿孙们、飞机票、到达时间,还有莫扎特。我突然也有种想去听音乐会的冲动,可是今天晚上并没有演出,此刻爸爸很可能正在从交响音乐厅回家的路上。我以前总坐在最上层的包厢(就音效而言的最佳位置)里聆听《大地之歌》③《大地之歌》,完成于1908年,马勒选择了七首唐诗,包括李白的《悲歌行》《采莲曲》《春日醉起言志》、孟浩然的《宿业师山房待丁大不至》、王维的《送别》、钱起的《效古秋夜长》等,写成了《大地之歌》。全曲共分六个乐章,是一部加入人声的、作者称之为“为男高音、女低音(或男中音)声部与管弦乐队而写的交响曲”。,或是贝多芬,或是其他的非圣诞曲目。嗯,也许明年吧。我突然看见我一生中所有的圣诞节,它们一个接一个地,等着我穿越。绝望淹没了我,不!我希望时间能让我摆脱这一天,能把我带进其他平和的日子。然后,我又对自己逃避痛苦而内疚起来。死去的人需要我们的缅怀,即使它会吞噬我们,即使我们能做的一切只是说一声:抱歉,直到它最后变得和空气一样无足轻重。下次我会带祖父母一起来这吃饭,我不想让悲哀压沉这充满节日温暖的餐馆,也不想下次来吃饭时想起这些,所以我付了账便离开了。
回到大街上,我站着思忖。我不想回家,
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