介绍:
(点击右边黑三角下拉有中英配文）
Wherever Hana is now, in the future, she is aware of the line of movement Kip’s body followed out of her life. Her mind repeats it. The path he slamed through among them. When he turned into a stone of silence in their midst. She recalls everything of that August day—what the sky was like, the objects on the table in front of her going dark under the thunder.
无论现在还是将来，无论在什么地方，哈纳会意识到基普的身影是如何离她的生活越来越远。她在脑海中不断地想起。他使劲在他们之间挤出一条路，他和他们在一起时像石头一样沉默。她会回忆起八月里的那一天所发生的一切——天空的样子，她面前桌上的物品在雷声里变得昏暗。
She sees him in the field, his hands clasped over his head, then realizes this is a gesture not of pain but of his need to hold the earphones tight against his brain. He is a hundred yards away from her in the lower field when she hears a scream emerge from his body which had never raised its voice among them. He sinks to his knees, as if unbuckled. Stays like that and then slowly gets up and moves in a diagonal towards his tent, enters it, and closes the flaps behind him. There is the dry crackle of thunder and she sees her arms darken.
她看见他在野外，双手抱着头，然后明白了他这种姿势并不是因为头疼，而是因为他想把耳机紧紧地贴在脑袋上。当她听到他发出一声怒吼时，他正在离她一百码远的低地上。他跪倒在地上，好像全身都散了一样。那样待了一会儿之后，他站起来，向他的帐篷斜冲进去，随手关上了身后的帐篷盖。天空打了一个响雷，她看见他的手臂上罩上了一层黑影。
Kip emerges from the tent with the rifle. He comes into the Villa San Girolamo and sweeps past her, moving like a steel ball in an arcade game, through the doorway and up the stairs three steps at a time, his breath metronomed, the hit of his boots against the vertical sections of stairs. She hears his feet along the hallway as she continues to sit at the table in the kitchen, the book in front of her, the pencil, these objects frozen and shadowed in the pre-storm light.
基普提着步枪，从帐篷里出来。他向圣吉洛拉莫别墅走来，风一般地从她身边擦身而过，像一颗游乐场里的钢球。他穿过走道，三步并作一步地蹿上楼，他的呼吸沉重，楼梯上响起他沉重的脚步声。她继续坐在厨房的桌前，听着他的脚步声朝向走廊去了。她的面前有一本书，一支铅笔，在暴风雨前的光线下，这些东西都冻结在阴影之中。
He enters the bedroom. He stands at the foot of the bed where the English patient lies. Hello, sapper.
The rifle stock is against his chest, its sling braced against his triangled arm.
What was going on outside?
Kip looks condemned, separate from the world, his brown face weeping. The body turns and fires into the old fountain, and the plaster explodes dust onto the bed. He pivots back so the rifle points at the Englishman. He begins to shudder, and then everything in him tries to control that.
他走进卧室，站在英国病人躺着的床脚边。
“你好，工兵!”
步枪的枪托抵着他的胸膛，枪背带紧抵在他放在胸前的手臂上。
“外面发生了什么事?
基普像是与世界隔绝了，他棕色的脸上流着泪水。他的身体转动了一下，向着旧喷水池开火，爆炸的石膏尘溅到了床上。他又转回身来，将步枪对着那个英国人。他开始颤抖，却又竭力控制自己不要颤抖。
Put down the gun, Kip.
He slams his back against the wall and stops his shaking. Plaster dust in the air around them.
I sat at the foot of this bed and listened to you, Uncle. These last months. When I was a kid I did that, the same thing. I believed I could fill myself up with what older people taught me. I believed I could carry that knowledge, slowly altering it, but in any case passing it beyond me to another.
“基普，放下枪!”
他使劲地靠着墙来停止颤抖，空中的石膏尘散落在他们周围。 •
“我坐在这张床的床角上，听你说话，大叔。过去这几个月我都是这样做的，当我还是个孩子，我就做这种事。我相信我能透过年纪大的人的教诲充实自己，我相信我能带着那些知识，慢慢地改变，然后再传授给别人。
I grew up with traditions from my country, but later, more often, from your country. Your fragile white island that with customs and manners and books and prefects and reason somehow converted the rest of the world. You stood for precise beheviour. I knew if I lifted a teacup with the wrong finger I’d be banished. If I tied the wrong kind of knot in a tie I was out.
Was it just ships that geve you such power? Was it, as my brother said, because you had the histories and printing presses?
“我从小接受我们国家的传统教育，但是后来，我受到的教育往往来自你们的国家。你们那毫不起眼的白人岛国，用自己的习俗、礼仪、书籍、官员、理性改变了这个世界的其它地方。你们订立了严厉的行为准则。我知道如果我用错了手指端起茶杯，我就会被放逐。如果我系领结的方式错了，我就会被赶出去。是不是轮船给了你们这种权利?是不是?就像我哥哥说的，是因为你们拥有历史和印刷厂的缘故。
You and then the Americans converted us. With your missionary rules. And Indian soldiers wasted their lives as heroes so they could be pukkah. You had wars like cricket. How did you fool us into this? Here... listen to what you people heve done.
“你们和后来的美国人改变了我们。用你们传教的规矩，而印度的土兵像英雄一样捐弃他们的生命，所以他们能够被‘漂白’。你们像蟋蟀一样好战。你们怎么能愚弄我们做这些事?在这儿……听听你的人民都干了些什么。”
He throws the rifle on the bed and moves towards the Englishman. The crystal set is at his side, hanging off his belt. He unclips it and puts the earphones over the black head of the patient, who winces at the pain on his scalp. But the sapper leeves them on him. Then he walks back and picks up the rifle. He sees Hana at the door.
One b@mb. Then another. Hiroshima. Nagasaki.
他把步枪扔在床上，向那个英国人走去，那部收音机就在他身边，挂在他的肩带上。他解下它，把耳机挂在伤员黑色的头上，英国人因疼痛而退缩了一下。但是工兵还是把耳机挂在他头上。他走回去，捡起步枪，看见哈纳站在门口。
一枚炸弹，然后又是一枚炸弹。广岛，长崎。
He swerves the rifle towards the alcove. The hawk in the valley air seems to float intentionally into the V sight. If he closes his eyes he sees the streets of Asia full of fire. It rolls across cities like a burst map, the hurricane of heat withering bodies as it meets them, the shadow of humans suddenly in the air. This tremor of Western wisdom.
他把步枪转向阳台。在山谷飞翔的鹰好像要朝枪口飞来。如果他闭上眼睛，他会看到亚洲的街道上火光冲天。它像一幅撕烂的地图，席卷那些城市，灼热的飓风一碰到身体，就把他们烧焦了。空中突然出现了人类的足迹，这是西方人的智慧所带来的战傈。
He watches the English patient, earphones on, the eyes focused inwards, listening. The rifle sight moves down the thin nose to the Adam’s apple, above the collarbone. Kip stops breathing. Braced at exact right angles to the Enfield rifle. No wever.
Then the Englishman’s eyes look back at him.
他看见那个英国病人，带着耳机，他的目光收敛，全神贯注地听着，步枪的准星从他的鼻尖向下移到锁骨上方的喉结。基普屏住气，把恩菲尔德步枪放在瞄准的角度上，毫不犹豫。
那个英国人看着他。
Carevaggio enters the room and reaches for him, and Kip wheels the butt of the rifle into his ribs. A swat from the paw of an animal. And then, as if part of the same movement, he is back in the braced right-angle position of those in firing squads, drilled into him in various barracks in India and England. The burned neck in his sights.
卡拉瓦焦走进房间，赶到他身边，基普转过身，用枪托重击在他的肋骨上。一记来自野兽的重击。然后，好像是同样动作的连续部分，他又恢复行刑队持枪准备的姿势，那是他在印度和英国的兵营里受训时学会的。他的枪口对准那烧焦的脖子。
----每周一/三/五晚更----
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