(中英配文)拉尔夫费因斯《英国病人》第二章 11

(中英配文)拉尔夫费因斯《英国病人》第二章 11

2018-01-12    04'45''

主播: 英伦好声音

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介绍:
(点击右边黑三角下拉有中英配文) “What do you hate most?” He asks. “A lie. And you?” “Ownership,” he says. “When you leave me, forget me.” Her fist swings towards him and hits hard into the bone just below his eye. She dresses and leaves. “你最恨什么?”他问。 “谎言,你呢?” “占有,”他说,“当你离开时,就把我忘了吧。” 她的拳头挥向他,重重地打在他的颧骨上。她穿上衣服,离开了他。 Each day he would return home and look at the black bruise in the mirror. He became curious, not so much about the bruise, but about the shape of his face. The long eyebrows he had never really noticed before, the beginning of grey in his sandy hair. He had not looked at himself like this in a mirror for years. That was a long eyebrow. 每天他都要回家,从镜子里看那块瘀青。他变得好奇了,不是对那块瘀青,而是对自己的脸感到好奇。他以前从未注意过那长长的眉毛,沙褐色的头发开始有些发白了。他已有好多年没有像这样在镜子里端详自己了。那是两道长眉毛。 Nothing can keep him from her. When he is not in the desert with Madox or with Bermann in the Arab libraries, he meets her in Groppi Park—beside the heavily watered plum gardens. She is happiest here. She is a woman who misses moisture, who has always loved low green hedges and ferns. 没有什么事能阻止他到她这来。 当他不与马多克斯一起待在沙漠里,或不与伯曼待在阿拉伯的图书馆时,他就会在格罗皮公园和她碰面。格罗皮公园就位于一座受到充分灌溉的李子园旁。她最喜欢这里,她是个喜欢潮湿空气的女人,酷爱绿色的树篱和蕨类植物。 From Groppi Park they arc out into the old city, South Cairo, markets where few Europeans go. In his rooms maps cover the walls. And in spite of his attempts at furnishing there is still a sense of base camp to his quarters. 他们从格罗皮公园绕进了旧城。开罗南面的市场上很少有欧洲人会光顾。他房间里的墙壁贴满了地图。尽管他想把房间布置得更好,但还是摆脱不了基地的那种感觉。 They lie in each other’s arms, the pulse and shadow of the fan on them. And here too the intimate exchange and echo of childhood history, of scar, of manner of kiss. 他们相拥而卧,躺在扇叶转动的阴影下。他们无拘无束的交流,回忆童年往事,诉说着疤痕的缘由和亲吻的方式。 “I don’t know what to do! How can I be your lover? He will go mad.” “我不知道怎么办! 我怎么能够做你的情人?他会发疯的。” A list of wounds. The various colours of the bruise—bright russet leading to brown. The plate she walked across the room with, flinging its contents aside, and broke across his head, the blood rising up into the straw hair. The fork that entered the back of his shoulder, leaving its bite marks the doctor suspected were caused by a fox. 一份记载伤势的资料。 各种瘀青的颜色,由明显的红褐色转为黄棕色。她端着盘子走过房间,把盘子盛的东西倒在一边,将盘子连同叉子向他的头丢去,血便从头发里流出来。叉子插进了他的肩膀。叉子留下的伤痕,连医生都以为是被狐狸咬的。 He would step into an embrace with her, glancing first to see what moveable objects were around. He would meet her with others in public with bruises or a bandaged head and explain about the taxi jerking to a halt so that he had hit the open side window. Or with iodine on his forearm that covered a welt. Madox worried about his becoming suddenly accident-prone. She sneered quietly at the weakness of his explanation. Maybe it’s his age, maybe he needs glasses, said her husband, nudging Madox. Maybe it’s a woman he met, she said. Look, isn’t that a woman’s scratch or bite? 他要向前和她拥抱时,还会先看看周围的动静。他要带着瘀青和扎着绷带的头,和她在大庭广众下见面,并对别人解释头的伤是搭出租车时,遇到紧急刹车,撞上窗户造成的。或者在前臂上擦上碘酒掩饰伤痕。马多克斯为他突然间常遇到意外而感到担心。他笨拙的解释使她暗自窃笑。也许他上了年纪了,也许他需要戴副眼镜,她丈夫一边说,一边用手肘轻推了马多克斯一下。也许他遇见了女人,她说。看,那不是被一个女人抓伤或咬伤的吗? It was a scorpion, he said. A postcard. Neat handwriting fills the rectangle. Half my days 1 cannot bear not to touch you. The rest of the time I feel it doesn’t matter if I ever see you again. It isn’t the morality, it is how much you can bear. No date, no name attached. “是蝎子。”他说。 一张明信片,长方形的卡片上字迹整齐。 在我一半的日子里,我不能忍受没有你。 在另一半日子里,我又觉得无所谓。 只要我能再次见到你。 这与道德无关, 而在于你能够忍受多少。 没有日期,没有署名。 Sometimes when she is able to spend the night with him they are wakened by the three minarets of the city beginning their prayers before dawn. He walks with her through the indigo markets that lie between South Cairo and her home. The beautiful songs of faith enter the air like arrows, one minaret answering another, as if passing on a rumour of the two of them as they walk through the cold morning air, the smell of charcoal and hemp already making the air profound. Sinners in a holy city. 当她可以整夜和他待在一起时,他们会在拂晓前被城里三座清真寺尖塔里的钟声唤醒。他和她走过设在开罗南部和她家之间的市场。他们走在清晨清冷的空气里,美妙动听的宗教歌声像弓箭一般直人云霄。一座尖塔应和着另一座的歌声,仿佛是在传播着关于他们的流言蜚语。木炭和大麻的气味浓浓地飘散在空气中。他们是圣城内的罪人。 He sweeps his arm across plates and glasses on a restaurant table so she might look up somewhere else in the city hearing this cause of noise. When he is without her. He, who has never felt alone in the miles of longitude between desert towns. He lies in his room surrounded by the pale maps. He is without Katharine. His hunger wishes to burn down all social rules, all courtesy. 他用手臂扫落餐馆桌上的盘子和玻璃杯,希望待在城里的她,会抬头看看,寻找噪音的来源。当她不在身边的时候,他是个一向独自来去沙漠和小镇之间。他躺在他的房间里,被四面墙上苍白无力的地图包围着。凯瑟琳不在他身边。他强烈地想要烧毁一切社会规则和所有的繁文缛节。 Her life with others no longer interests him. He wants only her stalking beauty, her theatre of expressions. He wants the minute and secret reflection between them, the depth of field minimal, their foreignness intimate like two pages of a closed book. 他不再在乎她与别人在一起生活的事实。他只是想着她的纤细优美,他向往那个时刻,他们之间心有灵犀,在心灵深处有一小块共同的天地,他们是如此不同,却又像合上的两张书页般亲密交融。 He has been disassembled by her. And if she has brought him to this, what has he brought her to? 他已经被她拆散了。 而如果她带给他的是破碎的心灵,那么他又带给她什么呢? ----每周一/三/五晚更---- 【文本翻译均为电台英伦好声音读给你听所有,转载请联系播主并注明】