【赫临译笔】迷人的月色 - 心云驛站

我家附近有一座小山，我常常在夜里去攀爬。城市的喧嚣成为遥远的低语，在黄昏的静寂中，我分享着蟋蟀的欢乐和猫头鹰的自信。但我来看的却是月亮升起的时刻，这使我回归到被城市过度挥霍的静谧和澄澈之中。

在这个小山上，我观察过许多次月出。每一次都有自己的格调。秋天收获时节自信满满的朗月，春天雾气迷漫羞羞答答的月亮，冬天升起在漆黑寂静天空中的苍白孤单的月亮，夏天悬挂在干燥旷野上的烟环雾绕的橙黄月亮。每一次，都像一曲精美的音乐，激荡了我的心，荡涤了我的灵魂。

但居住在室内的我们，已经失去了与月亮的联系。刺目的街灯和烟尘的污染遮挡了夜空。虽然人类已能登月，但月亮却变得日益陌生。没有几个人能够说出今晚月亮将何时升起。

如果我们不经意间在地平线上邂逅一轮大大的黄黄的满月，我们会情不自禁地回望它威严的仪态。月亮赐予观月者以礼物。

我是在一个七月份的傍晚得到这份礼物的。我的车莫名其妙地熄火，把我独自一人滞留在山中。太阳已经落山，我注视着东山脊后那一片橙黄橙黄的光亮，犹如林火一样，光芒灿烂。突然，山脊似乎升腾成火焰。接着，一轮又大又红的月亮，由于夏日大气灰尘和水珠而变得奇形怪状，光怪陆离，从森林中升起钻出，划出一道环形轮廓。由于地球的热气而扭曲变形的月亮似乎脾气暴躁，微有瑕疵。附近农舍里的狗紧张地吠叫，好像这奇异的光亮唤醒了草丛中的邪恶精灵。

但当月亮升起，离开山脊时，它聚集了坚定和威严。色彩由红而橙而金而成冷陌的黄色。它似乎从暗淡下去的地球上提取了亮色，因为随着月亮的上升，下面的山山谷谷变得越来越模糊不清。当月亮清晰地呈现在地平线上时，饱满，圆润，色如象牙，山谷变成了模糊的阴影。见到熟悉的月亮，打消了疑虑的狗停止了吠叫。突然我感觉到一种近乎欢笑的自信和喜悦。

这激动人心的场面持续了一小时。月亮缓缓升起，精妙无穷。要赏月，我们必须进入到过去更有耐心的时间意识中。

观赏月亮僵硬地越升越高，我们发现了自己内心不同寻常的宁静。我们想象到空间的广阔无边，地球的浩瀚无垠，自身存在的极其荒谬，感觉到了自己的渺小和荣幸。

月光展示不出生活中的些微艰难。月光下，山腰似乎柔和起来，银光闪烁；海洋静止不动，蓝得耀眼；人们也不再计较，而是更多地关注自己的内心世界。

There is a hill near my home that I often climb at night. The noise of the city is afar-off murmur. In the hush of dark I share the cheerfulness of crickets and the confidence of owls. But it is the drama of the moonrise that I come to see.For that restores in me a quiet and clarity that the city spends too freely.

From this hill I have watched many moons rise. Each one had its own mood. There have been broad, confident harvest moons in autumn; shy, misty moons in spring;lonely, white winter moons rising into the utter silence of an ink-black sky and smoke-smudged orange moons over the dry fields of summer. Each, like finemusic, excited my heart and then calmed my soul.

But we, who live indoors, have lost contact with the moon. The glare of streetlights and the dust of pollution veil the night sky. Though men have walked onthe moon, it grows less familiar. Few of us can say what time the moon will rise tonight.

If we unexpectedly encounter the full moon, huge and yellow over the horizon, we are helpless but to stare back at its commanding presence. And the moon hasgifts to bestow upon those who watch.

I learned about its gifts one July evening in the mountains. My car hadmysteriously stalled, and I was stranded and alone. The sun had set, and I waswatching what seemed to be the bright-orange glow of a forest fire beyond aridge to the east. Suddenly, the ridge itself seemed to burst into flame. Then,the rising moon, huge and red and grotesquely misshapen by the dust and sweatof the summer atmosphere, loomed up out of the woods. Distorted thus by the hotbreath of earth, the moon seemed ill-tempered and imperfect. Dogs at nearbyfarmhouse barked nervously, as if this strange light had wakened evil spiritsin the weeds.

But as the moon lifted off the ridge it gathered firmness and authority. Its complexion changed from red, to orange, to gold, to impassive yellow. It seemed to draw light out of the darkening earth, for as it rose, the hills and valleysbelow grew dimmer. By the time the moon stood clear of the horizon,full-chested and round and of the colour of ivory, the valleys were deep shadows in the landscape. The dogs, reassured that this was the familiar moon,stopped barking. And all at once I felt a confidence and joy close to laughter.

The drama took an hour. Moonrise is slow and serried with subtleties. To watch it,we must slip into an older, more patient sense of time.

To watch the moon move inflexibly higher is to find an unusual stillness within ourselves. Our imaginations become aware of the vast distance of space, the immensityof the earth and the huge improbability of our own existence. We feel small butprivileged.

Moonlight shows us none of life’s harder edges. Hillsides seem silken and silvery, the oceans still and blue in its light. In moonlight we become less calculating,more drawn to our feelings.