本帖最后由 ヮ成熟、羙° 于 2013-8-19 07:49 编辑
紫丁香的回忆
荷叶/译
这一家人刚刚搬到罗德岛州，年轻的女人在五月里的那个星期天有点悲伤。那天毕竟是母亲节，八百英里的距离把她和俄亥俄州的父母隔在两地。
那天早上她给母亲打了一个电话，祝她节日快乐。电话里妈妈提到春天来了，院子里五彩缤纷。交谈中，年轻女人几乎可以嗅到她家后门那丛灌木上挂着的紫丁香所发出的阵阵诱人的清香。
后来，她向丈夫提起了她多么想念那些丁香，他从椅子上一跃而起，“我知道到哪儿可以找到你想要的东西。”他说：“带上孩子们，立刻出发。”
于是，他们动身，行驶在罗德岛北部的乡村公路上，在只有五月才有的天气里：闪烁的阳光，蓝蓝的天空，一丝云彩也没有，到处都生长着生机勃勃的绿色新生命。他们驶过一个个小村庄，驶过许多新建住宅区，驶过一个废弃的苹果园，最后驶进被树木掩映的农庄。
在他们停车的地方，茂密的雪松，刺柏，白桦遮天蔽日，却一棵丁香也看不到。
“随我来，”男人说：“山那边有一个古老的地窖，那里多年前是一个人的农场，地窖周围到处都是丁香。这里的主人说过我随时可以到此造访。我敢肯定如果我们摘几朵丁香花，他是不会介意的。”
刚到半山腰，丁香的芳香就飘了下来。孩子们开始奔跑。很快，母亲也跑了起来，一直跑到山顶。
在那里，远离行驶的汽车，隐藏在人类文明搅扰以外，生长着丛丛丁香，巨大的锥形花簇几乎把它们压成对头弯。微笑着，年轻女人冲到最近一棵丁香丛旁，沉浸在花的芬芳以及它所唤起的美好回忆之中。
当男人在检查地窖并向孩子们解释这所房子原来的样子时，女人在丁香花丛中游荡。很仔细地，她用丈夫的小折刀在这里剪下一枝，那里剪下一枝。她从容地尽情地享受每一朵花，就如同这是一件罕见的玲珑的珠宝一样。
尽管，他们最后回到了车上准备回家。当孩子们在聊天，丈夫在开车时，女人坐在车上，被花包围着，微笑着，眼睛注视着遥远的地方。
当离家还有三英里时，她向丈夫喊道：“停车，就停在这儿。”
男人重重地踩下刹车。还没来得及问为什么停车，女人已下了车，匆匆地爬上了附近一个长着茵茵绿草的山坡，怀里依然抱着丁香花。山顶上有一个养老院，因为阳光明媚，老人们正由亲属陪着在户外散步或在门廊上闲坐。
年轻的女人走到门廊尽头，那儿有一老人，孤独地坐在轮椅上，低垂着头，背对着别人。穿过栏杆，她把鲜花放到老人的膝盖上。老人抬起了头，露出了微笑。两个女人聊了几句，两人都开心得脸上放光。然后年轻的女人转身跑向她的家人。当车开走时，轮椅上的老人挥手告别，怀里紧紧抱着紫丁香花。
“妈妈，”孩子们问：“那个人是谁？你为什么把我们的花送给她？她是谁的妈妈？”母亲回答她不认识那位老人。但今天是母亲节，她看上去很孤独，谁看见花会不开心呢？“此外，”她接着说：“我还有你们大家，我还有妈妈，虽然她在千里之外。那位老人现在比我更需要这些花。”
这些话孩子们听了很满意，可丈夫没有。第二天，他去买来几棵丁香苗，种在院子周围，此后他又补种了几次。
我就是那个男人，年轻女人是我妻子。现在，每年五月，我家院子里都会弥漫着紫丁香的气息。每年母亲节，孩子们都会采几束紫丁香。每年我都记得那位孤独的老人脸上的微笑，以及使之产生微笑的善举。
附：原文
The remembrance of lilacs
The family had just moved to Rhode Island, and the young woman was feeling a little melancholy on that Sunday in May. After all, it was Mother's Day -- and 800 miles separated her from her parents in Ohio.
She had called her mother that morning to wish her a happy Mother's Day, and her mother had mentioned how colorful the yard was now that spring had arrived. As they talked, the younger woman could almost smell the tantalizing aroma of purple lilacs hanging on the big bush outside her parents' back door.
Later, when she mentioned to her husband how she missed those lilacs, he popped up from his chair. "I know where we can find you all you want," he said. "Get the kids and c'mon."
So off they went, driving the country roads of northern Rhode Island on the kind of day only mid－May can produce: sparkling sunshine, unclouded azure skies and vibrant newness of the green growing all around. They went past small villages and burgeoning housing developments, past abandoned apple orchards, back to where trees and brush have devoured old homesteads.
Where they stopped，dense thickets of cedars and junipers and birch crowded the roadway on both sides. There wasn't a lilac bush in sight.
"Come with me," the man said. "Over that hill is an old cellar hole，from somebody's farm of years ago, and there are lilacs all round it. The man who owns this land said I could poke around here anytime. I'm sure he won't mind if we pick a few lilacs."
Before they got halfway up the hill, the fragrance of the lilacs drifted down to them, and the kids started running. Soon, the mother began running, too, until she reached the top.
There，far from view of passing motorists and hidden from encroaching civilization, were the towering lilacs bushes, so laden with the huge, cone-shaped flower clusters that they almost bent double. With a smile, the young woman rushed up to the nearest bush and buried her face in the flowers, drinking in the fragrance and the memories it recalled.
While the man examined the cellar hole and tried to explain to the children what the house must have looked like, the woman drifted among the lilacs. Carefully, she chose a sprig here, another one there, and clipped them with her husband's pocket knife. She was in no hurry, relishing each blossom as a rare and delicate treasure.
Finally, though, they returned to their car for the trip home. While the kids chattered and the man drove, the woman sat smiling, surrounded by her flowers, a faraway look in her eyes.
When they were within three miles of home, she suddenly shouted to her husband, "Stop the car. Stop right here!"
The man slammed on the brakes. Before he could ask her why she wanted to stop, the woman was out of the car and hurrying up a nearby grassy slope with the lilacs still in her arms. At the top of the hill was a nursing home and, because it was such a beautiful spring day, the patients were outdoors strolling with relatives or sitting on the porch.
The young woman went to the end of the porch, where an elderly patient was sitting in her wheelchair, alone, head bowed, her back to most of the others. Across the porch railing went the flowers, in to the lap of the old woman. She lifted her head, and smiled. For a few moments, the two women chatted, both aglow with happiness, and then the young woman turned and ran back to her family. As the car pulled away, the woman in the wheelchair waved, and clutched the lilacs.
"Mom," the kids asked, "who was that? Why did you give her our flowers? Is she somebody's mother?" The mother said she didn't know the old woman. But it was Mother's Day，and she seemed so alone，and who wouldn't be cheered by flowers? "Besides," she added，"I have all of you, and I still have my mother, even if she is far away. That woman needed those flowers more than I did."
This satisfied the kids, but not the husband. The next day he purchased half a dozen young lilacs bushes and planted them around their yard, and several times since then he has added more.
I was that man. The young mother was, and is, my wife. Now, every May, our own yard is redolent with lilacs. Every Mother's Day our kids gather purple bouquets. And every year I remember that smile on a lonely old woman's face, and the kindness that put the smile there.
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发表于 2013-8-19 07:38:46
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发表于 2013-8-19 19:30:32
