她干起活来像个男人- 琳达·巴茨凯尔-楚雨庭、一心

她干起活来像个男人 “她干起活来像个男人。”邻居们 都说。令她女儿 羞愧难当的是，她在田间干活， 像头骡子，或者说，像个男人。而其他人的 母亲，都藏在厚厚的蕾丝裙里， 她的母亲呢，在漫过脚踝的泥水里跋涉， 围裙扎得老高，种洋葱， 锄草，扒垄，掰玉米， 扯下西红柿身上的绿毛虫， 喊牛，喂猪，养出 一身肥膘来应对躲不过的 冬天。生育——女人的工作——也 不能让她歇多久，喂奶， 修修补补，把断了的东西再绑起来， 砍柴，拉水，到了 星期天，风琴呼哧呼哧 唱着歌，缝纫机合着拍。 没人表扬，快乐不多。给鸡拔毛 这门艺术，练得挺多，多过什么帽子 和面纱、镜子和眉毛的小伎俩。责任 是她的姐妹，让她 握着大斧头、小斧头和猎枪的手，不发抖。一个女人孤零零 因为她别无选择。不得已 是她的天使，真实，是她的美貌。众人的 闲言是对她的赞歌： 她干起活来像个男人。 作者 / [美国] 琳达巴茨凯尔 翻译 / 唐小栗 She Works Like a Man “She works like a man,” that’s what the neighbors said. To her daughter’s intensest shame, she works in the fields, like a mule, or man. While the mothers of others hide behind lace-pretend curtains, hers wades, ankle-deep in mud, apron hitched high, planting onions, hoeing, raking, putting in corn, pulling green worms off tomatoes calling cows, feeding hogs, piling up a wall of fat against the inevitable winter. Birth–women’s work–that never stopped her for long, nursing, mending, binding what was broken, chopping wood, hauling water, and on Sunday, the wheezing pump organ sings, the sewing machine keeps time. No praise, little joy. Plucking chickens an art more practiced than tricks with hats and veils, mirror and eyebrow. Duty is her sister, steadies her hand with axe, hatchet, shotgun. A woman alone because she has no choice. Necessity is her angel, truth, her beauty. The common gossip sings her alleluias: She works like a man. Linda Backiel