(中英)現(xiàn)代散文:郵差先生 Mr. Postman

Mr. Postman

郵差先生

◎ Shi Tuo

◎　師　陀

Mr. Postman would walk up the street with a bundle of letters in his hand. Working in a small town as postman-stamp seller, he still had lots of spare time. Every day he would sit bending over his desk scissor-cutting flower patterns, wearing a pair of glasses for farsighted old people. All this, plus age, had given him a bent back. When the mail arrived, he would stand up, run his eyes over it, pick out the letters he was to deliver, and carefully bundle them up.

郵差先生走到街上來，手里拿著一大把信。在這小城里他兼任郵務(wù)員，售票員①，但仍舊有許多剩余時間，每天戴上老花眼鏡②，埋頭在公案上剪裁花樣。因此——再加上歲月的侵蝕，他的脊背駝了。當(dāng)郵件來到的時候他站起來，他念著，將它們揀出來，然后小心的扎成一束。

This letter is from a real far place! he could not help sighing inwardly when he happened to catch sight of a letter from a remote province, such as Yunnan or Gansu. He had never thought of a place farther than that, though he himself had no clear idea at all where it was located. Who was to blame for its being so far away that people had to deny themselves, for life, the pleasure of eating, say, millet in Gansu or salted turnip in Yunnan?

“這一封真遠③！”碰巧瞥見從云南或甘肅寄來的信，他便忍不住在心里嘆息。他從來沒有想到過比這更遠的地方。其實他自己也弄不清云南和甘肅的方位——誰教它們處在那么遠，遠到使人一生不想去吃它們的小米飯或大頭菜呢？

Mr. Postman was now carrying various kinds of letters in his hand. Few, however, came from Gansu or Yunnan. Most of them were probably sent by students to their parents.

現(xiàn)在郵差先生手里拿著的是各種各樣的信。從甘肅和云南來的郵件畢竟很少，它們最多的大概還是學(xué)生寫給家長們的。

Here's another letter pressing for the allowance, said he to himself. "It'll take the poor old man at least three or four days to raise the money."

“又來催餉了④，”他心里說：“足夠老頭子忙三四天！”

While walking on the deserted open street, he reminded himself that in case he met a sow approaching with her piglets following close behind he must take care to skirt round them. The small town sun was shining down on his greying head and on the back of his black mandarin jacket. The dust kicked up from under his feet was lucky enough to settle on his white socks and leg wrappings. As a small town postman, he was not liveried. A father would grumble to him again about his own student-son, "Hum, to see him finish school... I'll be finished myself!" Mr. Postman listened smilingly to the poor old man's oft-repeated well-meaning complaints about his beloved son. Of course, not all senders knew him and none would even think of him. But that didn't matter, for he knew about them all and he also knew when they had a new address.

他在空曠的很少行人的街上走著，一面想著，如果碰見母豬帶領(lǐng)著小豬，便從旁邊繞過去。小城的陽光曬著他花白了的頭，曬著他穿皂布馬褂的背，塵土極幸運的從腳下飛起來，落到他的白布襪子上，他的扎腿帶上。在這小城里他用不著穿號衣。一個學(xué)生的家長又將向他訴苦，“畢業(yè)，畢我的業(yè)⑤！”他將聽他過去聽過無數(shù)次的，一個老人對于他的愛子所發(fā)的這種怨言，心里充滿善意，他于是笑了。這些寫信的人自然并不全認(rèn)識他，甚至沒有一個會想起他，但這沒有關(guān)系，他知道他們，他們每換一回地址他都知道。

Mr. Postman knocked at a door, and stepped inside if it was left ajar.

郵差先生于是敲門，門要是虛掩著，他走進去。

Anybody at home? he called loudly from the passageway.

“家里有人嗎？”他大聲在過道里喊。

As was often the case, he had to wait quite a while. Finally an old lady emerged. Perhaps her son-in-law was doing business elsewhere, or perhaps her son had gone soldiering somewhere. A dog behind her was barking furiously. The old lady had come out in a hurry. She must have been busy with household chores, as witness her hands still dripping wet with water.

他有時候要等好久⑥。最后從里頭走出一位老太太，她的女婿在外地做生意，再不然，她的兒子在外邊當(dāng)兵。一條狗激烈的在她背后叫著。她出來的很倉促，兩只手濕淋淋的，分明剛才還在做事。

What's up? she inquired.

“干什么的⑦？”老太太問。

A letter, Mr. Postman answered, "a registered one. You're required to stamp your seal here."

郵差先生告訴她：“有一封信，掛號信，得蓋圖章?！?

The old lady didn't have a seal.

老太太沒有圖章。

Then you have to find a shop guarantor for yourself and come later to the post office for the letter. Maybe there's money in it.

“那你打個鋪保，晚半天到局子里來領(lǐng)。這里頭也許有錢。”

How much?

“有多少？”

I said 'maybe.' Can't tell if there is any money in it.

“我說也許有，不一定有。”

What else could he do with this good old lady? After doing a lot of explaining, Mr. Postman was finally on his way down the street again. With the top of his greying head bathed in the small town sunlight, he looked dignified and calm with a characteristic bearing of his own. People would probably think he was out taking a walk at his leisure. In fact, he had no need for hurrying at all. He had plenty of time to finish delivering all the mail in his hand. Could there be anything urgent in this town calling for his prompt attention? Yes, once in a while, to his great regret, he did deliver a letter with a bit of unhappy news. It was very seldom though, and he wished it would never happen again.

你能怎么辦呢？對于這個好老太太。郵差先生費了半天唇舌，終于又走到街上來了。小城的陽光照在他的花白頭頂上，他的模樣既尊貴又從容，并有一種特別風(fēng)韻，看見他你會當(dāng)他是趁便出來散步的。說實話他又何必緊張，他手里的信反正總有時間全部送到，那么在這個小城里，另外難道還會有什么事等候他嗎？雖然他有時候是這樣抱歉，他為這個小城送來⑧——不，這種事是很少有的，但愿它不常有。

Hey, any letter for me? a playful youngster suddenly stopped him.

“送信的，有我的信嗎？”正走間，一個愛開玩笑的小子忽然攔住他的去路。

Your letter? Mr. Postman smiled. "It hasn't arrived yet. For this moment it's dozing on its way."

“你的信嗎？”郵差先生笑了?！澳愕男胚€沒有來，這會兒正在路上睡覺呢?！?

Mr. Postman kept on walking along the street with the mail in his hand. Not a vehicle in sight, nor a noise within hearing. The sun was beating down on sidewalks, roofs and walls. The whole town was immersed in a silent brilliance. He felt like sweating. Were it not for his age and long beard, he said to himself, he would break out humming a tune. He gasped with admiring wonder, "What a beautiful day!"

郵差先生拿著信，順著街道走下去，沒有一輛車子阻礙他，沒有一種聲音教他分心⑨。陽光充足的照到街岸上、屋脊上和墻壁上，整個小城都在寂靜的光耀中。他身上要出汗，他心里——假使不為尊重自己的一把年紀(jì)跟好胡子，他真想大聲哼唱小曲。為此他深深贊嘆：這個小城的天氣多好！

師陀（l910—1988）是我國散文名家，河南杞縣花寨人，破落地主家庭出身，三十年代步入文壇?！多]差先生》是他寫于1942年的一篇人物小品。文章語言淺白、平實，以寥寥數(shù)筆，勾畫一個善良、敬業(yè)的鄉(xiāng)村老郵遞員，生動傳神。