凯瑟琳·曼斯菲尔德/Katherine Mansfield
凯瑟琳·曼斯菲尔德（1888—1923），生于新西兰威灵顿，本名卡瑟琳·包姗普。1914年，她的小说集《节奏》和《忧郁评论》在她的第一位房客、后来成为她丈夫的社会学家和前文学评论家米多尔顿·莫里的协助下编辑出版，后创作了著名小说《序曲》和《园会》。1923年1月9日，常年罹患肺结核的凯瑟琳·曼斯菲尔德逝世，年仅45岁。在凯瑟琳的世界里，死亡是静穆和安逸，甚至是美丽的。看，她临终前的最后的一句话是：“我喜爱雨，我想要感到它们落到脸上的感觉。”
... You see that big nail to the right of the front door? I can scarcely look at it even now and yet I could not bear to take it out. I should like to think it was there always even after my time. I sometimes hear the next people saying, "There must have been a cage hanging from there." And it comforts me. I feel he is not quite forgotten.
... You cannot imagine how wonderfully he sang. It was not like the singing of other canaries. And that isn't just my fancy. Often, from the window I used to see people stop at the gate to listen, or they would lean over the fence by the mock-orange for quite a long time—carried away. I suppose it sounds absurd to you—it wouldn't if you had heard him—but it really seemed to me he sang whole songs, with a beginning and an end to them.
For instance, when I finished the house in the afternoon, and changed my blouse and brought my sewing on the verandah here, he used to hop, hop, hop from one perch to the other, tap against the bars as if to attract my attention, sip a little water, just as a professional singer might, and then break into a song so exquisite that I had to put my needle down to listen to him. I can't describe it; I wish I could. But it was always the same, every afternoon, and I felt that I understood every note of it.
... I loved him. How I loved him! Perhaps it does not matter so very much what it is one loves in this world. But love something one must! Of course there was always my little house and the garden, but for some reason they were never enough. Flowers respond wonderfully, but they don't sympathize. Then I loved the evening star. Does that sound ridiculous? I used to go into the backyard, after sunset, and wait for it until it shone above the dark gum tree. I used to whisper, "There you are, my darling." And just in that first moment it seemed to be shining for me alone. It seemed to understand this... something which is like longing, and yet it is not longing. Or regret—it is more like regret. And yet regret for what? I have much to be thankful for!
... But after he came into my life I forgot the evening star; I did not need it any more. But it was strange. When the Chinaman who came to the door with birds to sell held him up in his tiny cage, and instead of fluttering, fluttering, like the poor little goldfinches, he gave a faint, small chirp. I found myself saying, just as I had said to the star over the gum tree, "There your are, my darling." From that moment he was mine!
... It surprises even me now to remember how he and I shared each other's lives. The moment I came down in the morning and took the cloth off his cage he greeted me with a drowsy little note. I knew it meant "Missus! Missus!" Then I hung him on the nail outside while I got my three young men their breakfasts, and I never brought him in, to do his cage, until we had the house to ourselves again. Then, when the washing-up was done, it was quite a little entertainment. I spread a newspaper over a corner of the table and when I put the cage on it he used to beat with his wings, despairingly, as if he didn't know what was coming. "You're a regular little actor," I used to scold him. I scraped, dusted it with fresh sand, filled his seed and water tins, tucked a piece of chickweed and half a chili between the bars. And I am perfectly certain he understood and appreciated every item of this little performance. You see by nature he was exquisitely neat. There was never a speck on his perch. And you'd only to see him enjoy his bath to realise he had a real small passion for cleanliness. His bath was put in last. And the moment it was in he positively leapt into it. First he fluttered one wing, then the other, then he ducked his head and dabbled his breast feathers. Drops of water were scattered all over the kitchen, but still he would not get out. I used to say to him,"Now that's quite enough. You're only showing off." And at last out he hopped and standing on one leg he began to peck himself dry. Finally he gave a shake, a flick, a twitter and he lifted his throat —Oh, I can hardly bear to recall it. I was always cleaning the knives by then. And it almost seemed to me the knives sang too, as I rubbed them bright on the board. ... Company, you see, that was what he was. Perfect company. If you have lived alone you will realize how precious that is. Of course there were my three young men who came in to supper every evening, and sometimes they stayed in the diningroom afterwards reading the paper. But I could not expect them to be interested in the little things that made my day. Why should they be? I was nothing to them. In fact, I overheard them one evening talking about me on the stairs as "the Scarecrow". No matter. It doesn't matter. Not in the least. I quite understand. They are young. Why should I mind? But I remember feeling so especially thankful that I was not quite alone that evening. I told him, after they had gone. I said, "Do you know what they call Missus?" And he put his head on one side and looked at me with his little bright eye until I could not help laughing. It seemed to amuse him.
... Have you kept birds? If you haven't, all this must sound, perhaps, exaggerated. People have the idea that birds are heartless, cold little creatures, not like dogs or cats. My washerwoman used to say every Monday when she wondered why I didn't keep "a nice fox terrier", "There's no comfort, Miss, in a canary." Untrue! Dreadfully untrue! I remember one night. I had had a very awful dream — dreams can be terribly cruel — even after I had woken up I could not get over it. So I put on my dressing-gown and came down to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was a winter night and raining hard. I suppose I was half asleep still, but through the kitchen window that hadn't a blind, it seemed to me the dark was staring in, spying. And suddenly I felt it was unbearable that I had no one to whom I could say, "I've had such a dreadful dream," or — "Hide me from the dark." I even covered my face for a minute. And then there came a little"Sweet! Sweet!" His cage was on the table, and the cloth had slipped so that a chink of light shone through. "Sweet! Sweet!" said the darling little fellow again, softly, as much as to say, "I'm here, Missus. I'm here!" That was so beautifully comforting that I nearly cried.
... And now he's gone. I shall never have another bird, another pet of any kind. How could I? When I found him, lying on his back, with his eye dim and his claws wrung, when I realised that never again should I hear my darling sing, something seemed to die in me. My breast felt hollow, as if it was his cage. I shall get over it. Of course. I must. One can get over anything in time. And people always say I have a cheerful disposition. They are quite right. I thank God I have.
... All the same, without being morbid, or giving way to —to memories and so on, I must confess that there does seem to me something sad in life. It is hard to say what it is. I don't mean the sorrow that we all know, like illness and poverty and death. No, it is something different. It is there, deep down, deep down, part of one, like one's breathing. However hard I work and tire myself I have only to stop to know it is there, waiting. I often wonder if everybody feels the same. One can never know. But isn't it extraordinary that under his sweet, joyful little singing it was just this—sadness? —Ah, what is it?—that I heard.
……你看到前门右侧的大钉子了么？直到现在，我仍不能看它，也不忍拔掉。我希望它一直都在那里，甚至在我过世之后。有时，我听到附近的人说：“那里肯定挂着一只鸟笼。”这句话给了我一丝安慰。我感觉它并没有完全被遗忘。
……你无法想象它的歌唱得多么美妙。它不同于其他金丝雀的声音。这不仅仅是我一个人的迷恋。通常，我从窗外看到人们在门前驻足聆听，或是长久地俯在山梅花边的栅栏上……我想这些在你听来都是荒谬的……但如果你听过它的歌唱，便不会这样认为了……我真的觉得它唱了完整的歌曲，有头有尾。
比如，下午打扫完房子之后，我换上宽松的上衣，拿着针线走上阳台，它常常跳啊、跳啊，从一根栖木跳到另一根，敲打着像是要引起我的注意，就如同专业歌唱家那样，嘬一点水，然后放开嗓子歌唱，歌声如此优美，我不得不放下手里的针线活听它歌唱。我无法形容这种歌声。我希望我能描绘。每一次都是如此，每个下午，我感觉自己理解它的每一个音符。
……我热爱它。我是多么喜爱它啊！或许人们喜欢世间的什么内容并不重要，但是一个人必须有某种喜爱之情！当然，我喜爱我的小屋和花园，但因为某种原因，总觉得它们还不够。花儿解意，却无法共鸣。我喜爱夜晚的星星，听起来可笑吧？我过去常常在日落之后到后院，等待星星在幽暗的枫树上闪耀。我常常悄声说：“你终于来了，亲爱的。”就在那一刻，我觉得它是在为我一个人而闪耀。它似乎理解……渴望某件东西，然而又不是渴望；或者是后悔——这更像是后悔。后悔什么呢？我有太多的感恩！
……当它来到我的生活中，我便忘记了夜晚的星星，我再也不需要星星了。很奇怪，当那个中国人拎着小鸟笼来到我家门前售卖的时候，它不像其他可怜的小金丝雀那样焦躁地拍打翅膀，而是发出了微弱的叽喳声。我听见自己说，正如我告诉枫树上的星星一样，“原来你在这里啊，亲爱的”。从那一刻起，它便是我的了。
……直到现在想起它和我如何分享彼此的生活，我仍感惊奇。早上下楼，揭开他的鸟笼罩布时，它昏昏欲睡地轻声向我问好。我知道它在说“太太！太太！”。在给三个年轻人做早餐的时候，我就将它挂在外面的钉子上，等只剩下我们俩的时候，才带它进屋。洗刷完毕后，我获得片刻清闲，在桌子的一角铺开报纸，将鸟笼放在报纸上，它常常绝望地用翅膀拍打报纸，似乎不知道将会发生什么。“你真是一个小演员。”我常常责骂道。我刷干净盘子，换上新鲜的沙子，在食槽里放满食物，水罐里倒满水，在鸟笼里塞进一片繁缕和半个红辣椒。我完全确信它懂得并感激每一个行为。你能看到它天生就非常爱整洁。在它的栖木上，从来没有一个污点，仅看它非常享受洗澡这一过程，就能知道它对于干净的确有些疯狂。最后，给它洗澡。它主动跳进水里，先打湿一边翅膀，然后是另一边，然后将头浸入水中，将胸前的羽毛弄湿。水溅满了厨房，但它还是不愿意出去。我常对它说：“够了。你就是炫耀。”终于它跳了出来，单脚站立，开始将自己啄干。它摆了摆身子，弹了弹羽毛，叽喳叫了一声，提了提嗓子……噢，我无法忍受回忆这些了。我那时总在清洗刀子，似乎当我在板上磨刀的时候，那些刀子也在唱歌，你瞧，伴侣便是它这样的。完美的伴侣。如果你单独生活过，你就能意识到这是多么珍贵。当然，我的三位年轻人每晚都会过来吃晚餐，有时他们在饭后会待在餐厅看看报纸。但是，我不希望他们对那些我生活中的小东西感兴趣。他们为什么要感兴趣呢？对于他们，我什么也不是。事实上，一天晚上，我在楼梯上偷听到他们说我像个稻草人。没关系。不要紧。一点都没关系。我非常理解。他们还年轻。我为什么要在意呢？但让我觉得非常感恩的是，那晚我并不是那么孤单。三个年轻人走后，我告诉它。我说：“你知道他们怎么称呼太太吗？”它头歪向一边，小而亮的眼睛盯着我看，直到我忍不住笑出来。似乎它也被逗笑了。
……你养过鸟吗？如果没有，这些事情在你听来一定是言过其实。人们认为鸟儿是没有感情的、冷血的小动物，不像狗或者猫那样。帮我洗衣服的女佣对我为什么不养“漂亮的宠物狗”而感到奇怪，每个星期一，她都会说“夫人，金丝雀不能给你安慰”。不对！绝对错误！我记得有一天晚上，我做了一个非常奇怪的梦……梦里非常痛苦……甚至醒过来之后都没有恢复过来。所以我穿上睡袍，来到厨房喝了杯水。那是一个冬天的夜晚，雨下得很大。我处在半睡半醒之间，但通过厨房的窗户，我觉得似乎黑暗在窥视着屋内。突然，我觉得无法忍受了，也不能对谁说“我刚做了一个可怕的梦”或者……“藏起我，不要让黑暗看到我”。甚至有一分钟我蒙住了脸。这时传来一声“宝贝！宝贝！”，它的笼子在桌子上，罩布滑掉了，所以有一丝光照进去。“宝贝！宝贝！”亲爱的小家伙又温柔地叫道，似乎在说“我在这里，夫人，我在这里！”如此安慰人心，我差点掉下眼泪。
……现在它走了。我将不会再养其他的鸟，再不会养任何种类的宠物。我怎么能这样呢？当我发现它，平躺着，眼光微弱，爪子扭在一起，我意识到我再也不能听见它的歌唱，似乎在我的内心有些东西已经死去了。我的内心感觉空虚，就像它的笼子。当然我会恢复的。我一定会恢复的。随着时间流逝，每个人都能从任何事情中走出来。人们常说我有欢快的性情。他们说得很对。感谢上帝，我有这样的性情。
……一切照旧，没有疾病或念念不忘。但我必须承认，生活中似乎有一些悲伤的东西。很难说悲伤的事到底是什么。我不是说我们大家都知道的痛苦，比如疾病、贫穷或者死亡。不，是不同的事情。它就在那里，内心深处，成为你必不可少的一部分，就像呼吸一样。无论我如何操劳，如何精疲力竭，我一停下来就知道它在那里，等着我。我常常想知道是否每个人都有这样的感觉。无从了解。但是在它甜美欢快的歌唱中，就有这种悲伤，难道不是很奇怪吗？……啊，是怎么回事？……我听到了。
W词汇笔记
scarcely ['sk??sli] adv. 几乎不，简直不；刚刚，才；决不；（刚）一……就
例 Scarcely had they left before soldiers arrived armed with rifles.
他们刚离开，扛着步枪的士兵们就到了。
exquisite ['ekskwizit] adj. 精致的；细腻的；优美的；剧烈的
例 This exquisite embroidery won people's great admiration.
这件精美的绣品，使人惊叹不已。
sympathize ['simp?θaiz] vi. 同情，怜悯；共鸣，同感；支持，赞成；安慰
例 Some Europeans sympathize with the Americans over the issue.
一些欧洲人在该问题上对美国人表示理解。
exaggerate [iɡ'z?d??reit] vt.＆vi. （使）扩大；（使）增加
例 Sheila admitted that she did sometimes exaggerate the demands of her job.
希拉承认自己有时候确实夸大了工作的难度。
S小试身手
或许人们喜欢世间的什么内容并不重要，但是一个人必须有某种喜爱之情！
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如果你单独生活过，你就能意识到这是多么珍贵。
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随着时间流逝，每个人都能从任何事情中走出来。
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P短语家族
For instance, when I finished the house in the afternoon, and changed my blouse and brought my sewing on the verandah here, he used to hop, hop, hop from one perch to the other...
for instance：例如，比如；拿……来说
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Drops of water were scattered all over the kitchen, but still he would not get out.
all over：到处；历；周遍；浑身
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