本帖最后由 ヮ成熟、羙° 于 2014-1-4 18:15 编辑
小王子
荷叶/译
噢，小王子！我开始一点一点地理解了你唯一的娱乐——观看日落的宁静之趣了。我是在第四天早晨得知这些新细节的，那一天，你对我说：
“我非常喜欢看日落。来，我们去看日落吧。”
“但我们必须等待。”我说。
“等待？等什么？”
“等日落呀，我们必须等待日落时分。”
起初你似乎十分惊讶，即而是哑然失笑。你对我说：
“我一直以为自己在家里。”
正是这样，人人知道美国的正午是法国的日落时分。
如果你能在一分钟之内飞到法国，你就可以从正午直接进入日落时分。不幸的是，法国太遥远，不能一飞就到。但亲爱的小王子，在你那样微小的星球上，你只需把椅子挪动几步就行了。你可以随心所欲地观看日暮，观看落日余辉……
“有一天，”你对我说：“我看到了四十四次日落！”
过了一会儿，你又说：
“你知道，一个人喜欢看日落，是在他伤心时分……”
“那么，你很伤心吗？”我问：“在你看完四十四次日落的那一天？”
但是小王子没有回答。
第五天，多亏了那只羊，像往常一样，小王子又向我透露了一点他的人生秘密。突然，没有任何引子，好像这个问题已经过长时的深思熟虑，已经酝酿已久，他问：
“羊如果吃小灌木，它是否也吃花？”
“羊碰到什么吃什么。”我回答。
“即使是带刺的花吗？”
“是的，即使是带刺的花。”
“那么，那些刺还有什么用？”
我不知道，那时我正忙着拧下一颗卡在发动机里的螺丝钉。我很着急，因为我越来越清楚飞机极有可能出故障。剩下的饮用水不多了，我必须做好最坏的打算。
“那些刺，有什么用？”
一旦提出，小王子从不轻易放过一个问题。至于我嘛，我很担心那颗螺丝钉。我随口答道：
“那些刺一点用也没有，花长刺只是为了泄愤。”
“噢！”
静默了一会儿，接下来小王子反唇相讥，带着一丝不满。
“我不能相信你。花是弱势群体，它们出自本能，尽可能地安慰自己，它们认为刺是它们最可怕的武器……”
我没有回答，那时我自语道：“再拧不下这颗螺丝钉，我就用锤子把它敲下来。”小王子又一次打断了我的思绪。
“你真的相信那些刺没用吗？”
“噢，不！”我大喊：“不，不，不！我什么也不相信。我只是随口一说。你难道看不见我正在忙正经事吗？”
他直愣愣地看着我，惊呆了。
“正经事！”
他看着我，手里拿着锤子，手指上满是油污，正俯身看着一个似乎极其丑陋的东西……
“你说起话来像个大人！”
这使我有点羞愧，他继续毫不客气地说下去：
“你弄错了……你搞混了……”
他真的很生气，他金色的卷发在微风中摇曳。
小王子现在气地脸色发白。
“亿万年来，花上都长刺。亿万年来，羊照吃不误。试图弄明白花不惜千辛万苦长出那些对自己毫无用途的刺来，难道不是正经事吗？如果我知道，我自己是一朵花，世上唯一的一朵，就生长在我的星球上，在某一个早晨，一只小羊可以一口把我吞掉，甚至不会注意我在做什么。噢，你竟然认为这不重要！”
他继续说着，脸色由白变红：
“如果有个人爱上一朵花，在数以亿计的星球中独自开放的一朵小花。他会自语：‘我的花，开放在星球中的某一地方……’但如果小羊吃掉那朵花，霎时他的所有星球将会随之暗淡无光……你竟然觉得这不重要！”
他哽住了，再也说不下去。
夜幕降临，工具从我的手中脱落。此时此刻，我的锤子，螺丝钉，抑或是饥渴，生死，还有什么是重要的呢？在一个星球上，一颗行星上，在我的星球上，在地球上，有一个小王子需要安慰。我揽他入怀，轻轻摇着他，对他说：
“你爱的花不会有危险。我会画一个口套套住小羊的嘴。我会画一个篱笆圈住你的花，我会……”
我不知道对他说些什么。我觉得自己很笨拙。我不知道怎样才能追上他，赶上他，再一次与他携手前行。
眼泪的王国是一个如此神秘的地方。
附：原文
Oh, little prince! Bit by bit I came to understand the secrets of your only entertainment in the quiet pleasure of looking at the sunset. I learned that new detail on the morning of the fourth day, when you said to me: "I am very fond of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset now." "But we must wait," I said. "Wait? For what?" "For the sunset. We must wait until it is time." At first you seemed to be very much surprised. And then you laughed to yourself. You said tome: "I am always thinking that I am at home!" Just so. Everybody knows that when it is noon in the United States the sun is setting over France. If you could fly to France in one minute, you could go straight into the sunset, right from noon.Unfortunately, France is too far away for that. But on your tiny planet, my little prince, all you need do is move your chair a few steps. You can see the day end and the twilight falling whenever you like… "One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!" And a little later you added: "You know --one loves the sunset, when one is so sad…" "Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunset?" But the little prince made no reply. On the fifth day --again, as always, it was thanks to the sheep -- the secret of the little prince's life was revealed to me. Abruptly, without anything to lead up to it,and as if the question had been born of long and silent meditation on his problem, he demanded: "A sheep -- if it eats little bushes, does it eat flowers, too?" "A sheep,"I answered, "eats anything it finds in its reach." "Even flowers that have thorns?" "Yes, even flowers that have thorns." "Then the thorns -- what use are they?" I did not know. Atthat moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking-water left that I had to fear for the worst. "The thorns --what use are they?" The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. As for me, I was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my head: "The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite." "Oh!" There was a moment of complete silence. Then the little prince flashed back at me, with a kind of resentfulness: "I don't believe you! Flowers are weak creature. They are native. They reassure themselves at best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons…" I did not answer.At that instant I was saying to myself: "If this bolt still won't turn, I am going to knock it out with the hammer." Again the little prince disturbed my thoughts. "And you actually believe that the flowers" "Oh, no!"I cried. "No, no, no! I don't believe anything. I answered you the first thing that came into my head. Don't you see -- I am very busy with matters of consequence!" He stared at me,thunderstruck. "Matters of consequence!" He looked at me there,with my hammer in my hand, my fingers black with engine-grease, bending over an object which seemed to him extremely ugly… "You talk just like the grown-ups!" That made me a little ashamed. But he went on, relentlessly: "You mix everything up together…You confuse everything…" He was really very angry. He tossed his golden curls in the breeze. The little prince was now white with rage. "The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same. And is it not a matter of consequence totry to understand why the flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any use to them? And if I know -- I, myself -- one flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doing -- Oh! You think that is not important!" His face turned from white to red as he continued: "If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars. He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there…' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened…And you think that is not important!" He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing. The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted, I took him in my arms and rocked him. I said to him: "The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will--" I did not know whatto say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more. It is such a secret place, the land of tears. | 
发表于 2014-1-3 15:47:24
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发表于 2014-1-3 18:25:32
