命若琴弦
Page 8
Then there was the woman engineer who passed south through the temple on her way to her work in the morning and walked home north in the evening. In fact I didn't know anything about her, but I liked to think that she was an engineer — an intellectual. Hardly anyone else could possess the same kind of simplistic grace. When she walked through the park, the woods seemed to become more tranquil and there seemed to be the sound of distant music, something like For Elise.
I never saw her lucky husband. I tried to form my own picture of him but couldn't. Later I realized that it was better if the man never appeared. Whenever I saw her walking homeward out of the north gate I would worry that she would end up in a kitchen. Or perhaps she possessed another kind of charm as she cooked, though For Elise certainly wouldn't come to mind again. Yet what would be an appropriate piece?
And my friend, a competent long-distance runner. Because of a "political slip of the tongue" during the "cultural revolution", he was imprisoned for several years and thus had his future ruined. After he was out he eventually found a job pulling a cart but still couldn't be treated equally. Disappointment made him take up running.
When he ran in the temple I would calculate the time for him. Everytime he finished a circuit he would wave to me and I would check my watch and mark the result in a notebook. He would run round the temple twenty times each time, which was about twenty thousand metres. He wished that one day he might gain his political liberation through his running achievements. He believed that newspaper reporters with their cameras and reports could help him achieve his goal.
The first time he took part in the annual Spring Festival Beijing race around the city, he came fifteenth. It gave him a huge boost to see the photos of the first ten athletes displayed in the glass cases in central Beijing's Chang'an Boulevard. The second year he won fourth place, but this time only the pictures of the first three athletes were exhibited. The third year he came seventh and the first six were shown. The fourth year he jumped to third place, but this time only the champion's photo was put in the case. He finally became champion in the fifth year, but the glass cases only displayed a "mass photo" of the annual race. He lost all hope.
During those years we often stayed in the temple till very late and vented our anger about the times. When we parted, we would tell each other not to commit suicide just yet, just live another year and see what might happen.
He is now too old to run. He participated in the race for the last time when he was thirty-eight. It was also the second time he won the championship. This time he broke the record. A coach said to him, "Oh, if only I had seen you ten years ago."He smiled a bitter smile but said nothing. That evening he found me in the temple and told me the story peacefully.
It's been a few years since I last saw him. Now he and his wife and children live in a faraway place.
还有一些人，我还能想起一些常到这园子里来的人。有一个老头，算得一个真正的饮者；他在腰间挂一个扁瓷瓶，瓶里当然装满了酒，常来这园中消磨午后的时光。他在园中四处游逛，如果你不注意你会以为园中有好几个这样的老头，等你看过了他卓尔不群的饮酒情状，你就会相信这是个独一无二的老头。他的衣着过分随便，走路的姿态也不慎重，走上五六十米路便选定一处地方，一只脚踏在石凳上或土埂上或树墩上，解下腰间的酒瓶，解酒瓶的当儿眯起眼睛把一百八十度视角内的景物细细看一遭，然后以迅雷不及掩耳之势倒一大口酒入肚，把酒瓶摇一摇再挂向腰间，平心静气地想一会儿什么，便走下一个五六十米去。还有一个捕鸟的汉子，那岁月园中人少，鸟却多，他在西北角的树丛中拉一张网，鸟撞在上面，羽毛戗在网眼里便不能自拔。他单等一种过去很多而现在非常罕见的鸟，其他的鸟撞在网上他就把它们摘下来放掉，他说已经有好多年没等到那种罕见的鸟了，他说他再等一年看看到底还有没有那种鸟，结果他又等了好多年。早晨和傍晚，在这园子里可以看见一个中年女工程师，早晨她从北向南穿过这园子去上班，傍晚她从南向北穿过这园子回家，事实上我并不了解她的职业或者学历，但我以为她必是学理工的知识分子，别样的人很难有她那般的素朴并优雅。当她在园子穿行的时刻，四周的树林也仿佛更加幽静，清淡的日光中竟似有悠远的琴声，比如说是那曲《献给艾丽丝》才好。我没有见过她的丈夫，没有见过那个幸运的男人是什么样子，我想象过却想象不出，后来忽然懂了想象不出才好，那个男人最好不要出现。她走出北门回家去，我竟有点担心，担心她会落入厨房，不过，也许她在厨房里劳作的情景更有另外的美吧，当然不能再是《献给艾丽丝》，是个什么曲子呢？还有一个人，是我的朋友，他是个最有天赋的长跑家，但他被埋没了。他因为在“文革”中出言不慎而坐了几年牢，出来后好不容易找了个拉板车的工作，样样待遇都不能与别人平等，苦闷极了便练习长跑。那时他总来这园子里跑，我用手表为他计时，他每跑一圈向我招一下手，我就记下一个时间。每次他要环绕这园子跑二十圈，大约两万米。他盼望以他的长跑成绩来获得政治上真正的解放，他以为记者的镜头和文字可以帮他做到这一点。第一年他在春节环城赛上跑了第十五名，他看见前十名的照片都挂在了长安街的新闻橱窗里，于是有了信心。第二年他跑了第四名，可是新闻橱窗里只挂了前三名的照片，他没灰心。第三年他跑了第七名，橱窗里挂前六名的照片，他有点怨自己。第四年他跑了第三名，橱窗里却只挂了第一名的照片。第五年他跑了第一名—他几乎绝望了，橱窗里只有一幅环城赛群众场面的照片。那些年我们俩常一起在这园子里呆到天黑，开怀痛骂，骂完沉默着回家，分手时再互相叮嘱：先别去死，再试着活一活看。现在他已经不跑了，年岁太大了，跑不了那么快了。最后一次参加环城赛，他以三十八岁之龄又得了第一名并破了纪录，有一位专业队的教练对他说：“我要是十年前发现你就好了。”他苦笑一下什么也没说，只在傍晚又来这园中找到我，把这事平静地向我叙说一遍。不见他已有好几年了，现在他和妻子和儿子住在很远的地方。
These people have long been replaced by a stream of new visitors. After fifteen years, only the old couple and I still frequent the old temple. For some time I saw only the old man strolling into the temple in the evening, his pace slower. I was concerned, fearing that something might have happened to the old lady. Fortunately, after a whole winter, she appeared again, and the old couple still walk anti-clockwise round the temple. Her hair is greyer than before but she still clings to her husband's arm like a young girl.
Neither have I forgotten the pretty but unlucky little girl.
I saw her one afternoon fifteen years ago when I first came into the temple. She was probably only three then and was kneeling on the west side of the Hall of Abstinence collecting the little "lanterns" that had dropped from the goldenrain trees nearby. When spring comes countless small yellow flowers blossom on these trees and when the petals fall little three-leafed lanterns will appear. They turn from green to yellow, and then fall to the ground. Even adults can't help picking up the lovely, delicate little fruit.
She kept babbling to herself in a sweet voice. I wonder how such a small child could come to the temple by herself and asked her where she lived. She pointed randomly and called for her brother. A boy of seven or eight came out from amongst the weeds under the old wall and looked at me. Finding nothing suspicious he said to his sister, "I'm here," before bending down again to continue to look for insects. He caught mantises, grasshoppers, cicadas and dragonflies to please her.
Over two to three years I often saw them playing together under the big goldenrain trees. Then they stopped coming to the temple and I didn't see them again. I thought they must have gone to school. Even the little girl was old enough to g
o. It was natural that they wouldn't have as much time to play in the temple as before. I had forgotten them almost completely when one day, years later, I saw them again in the temple. It was then that I realized the little girl was retarded.
这些人现在都不到园子里来了，园子里差不多完全换了一批新人。十五年前的旧人，现在就剩我和那对老夫老妻了。有那么一段时间，这老夫老妻中的一个也忽然不来，薄暮时分唯男人独自来散步，步态也明显迟缓了许多，我悬心了很久，怕是那女人出了什么事。幸好过了一个冬天那女人又来了，两个人仍是逆时针绕着园子走，一长一短两个身影恰似钟表的两支指针；女人的头发白了许多，但依旧攀着丈夫的胳膊走得像个孩子。“攀”这个字用得不恰当了，或许可以用“搀”吧，不知有没有兼具这两个意思的字。
五
我也没有忘记一个孩子— 一个漂亮而不幸的小姑娘。十五年前的那个下午，我第一次到这园子里来就看见了她，那时她大约三岁，蹲在斋宫西边的小路上捡树上掉落的“小灯笼”。那儿有几棵大栾树，春天开一簇簇细小而稠密的黄花，花落了便结出无数如同三片叶子合抱的小灯笼，小灯笼先是绿色，继而转白，再变黄，成熟了掉落得满地都是。小灯笼精巧得令人爱惜，成年人也不免捡了一个还要捡一个。小姑娘咿咿呀呀地跟自己说着话，一边捡小灯笼；她的嗓音很好，不是她那个年龄所常有的那般尖细，而是很圆润甚或是厚重，也许是因为那个下午园子里太安静了。我奇怪这么小的孩子怎么一个人跑来这园子里？我问她住在哪儿？她随手指一下，就喊她的哥哥，沿墙根一带的茂草之中便站起一个七八岁的男孩，朝我望望，看我不像坏人便对他的妹妹说“我在这儿呢”，又伏下身去，他在捉什么虫子。他捉到螳螂、蚂蚱、知了和蜻蜓，来取悦他的妹妹。有那么两三年，我经常在那几棵大栾树下见到他们，兄妹俩总是在一起玩，玩得和睦融洽，都渐渐长大了些。之后有很多年没见到他们。我想他们都在学校里吧，小姑娘也到了上学的年龄，必是告别了孩提时光，没有很多机会来这儿玩了。这事很正常，没理由太搁在心上，若不是有一年我又在园中见到他们，肯定就会慢慢把他们忘记。
It was a cloudless Sunday morning. I rolled my wheel-chair to the goldenrain trees. It was the season when their little lanterns were covering the ground. I had been having great difficulties in ending a story, so I had come here wondering whether I should drop the story altogether. Just as I stopped my wheel-chair, I saw, not far off, several youngsters teasing a young girl. They were trying to frighten her by making horrible faces and, when she tried to escape from them, chased her and stopped her from getting away. The girl hid herself behind the trees holding up the hem of her skirt, not realizing that her legs were thus exposed.
I could tell from her reactions that she was retarded and hurried over to help. A young man rushed over from the distance on his bike. The bullies ran away. The young man stopped his bike beside the girl and panting, angrily looked at the vanishing brutes. It was then that I recognized them. I let out a sad, silent cry.
The young girl loosened her hands and countless little lanterns dropped to her feet. She was still a pretty young girl, but there was no light in her eyes. She stared in a daze in the direction the bullies had run. With her limited intelligence, there was no way she could understand the world around her. The young man helped her onto the back seat of his bike and quietly rode home.
那是个礼拜日的上午。那是个晴朗而令人心碎的上午，时隔多年，我竟发现那个漂亮的小姑娘原来是个弱智的孩子。我摇着车到那几棵大栾树下去，恰又是遍地落满了小灯笼的季节；当时我正为一篇小说的结尾所苦，既不知为什么要给它那样一个结尾，又不知何以忽然不想让它有那样一个结尾，于是从家里跑出来，想依靠着园中的镇静，看看是否应该把那篇小说放弃。我刚刚把车停下，就见前面不远处有几个人在戏耍一个少女，做出怪样子来吓她，又喊又笑地追逐她拦截她，少女在几棵大树间惊惶地东跑西躲，却不松手揪卷在怀里的裙裾，两条腿袒露着也似毫无察觉。我看出少女的智力是有些缺陷，却还没看出她是谁。我正要驱车上前为少女解围，就见远处飞快地骑车来了个小伙子，于是那几个戏耍少女的家伙望风而逃。小伙子把自行车支在少女近旁，怒目望着那几个四散逃窜的家伙，一声不吭喘着粗气，脸色如暴雨前的天空一样一会儿比一会儿苍白。这时我认出了他们，小伙子和少女就是当年那对小兄妹。我几乎是在心里惊叫了一声，或者是哀号。世上的事常常使上帝的居心变得可疑。小伙子向他的妹妹走去。少女松开了手，裙裾随之垂落了下来，很多很多她捡的小灯笼便洒落了一地，铺散在她脚下。她仍然算得漂亮，但双眸迟滞没有光彩。她呆呆地望着那群跑散的家伙，望着极目之处的空寂，凭她的智力绝不可能把这个世界想明白吧？大树下，破碎的阳光星星点点，风把遍地的小灯笼吹得滚动，仿佛喑哑地响着无数小铃铛。哥哥把妹妹扶上自行车后座，带着她无言地回家去了。
Since God had bestowed on her both beauty and retardation, all she could do was to return home quietly.
However, who can truly understand the world?
One may blame God for bringing so much suffering to the human world; one may also gain a sense of pride and nobility by devoting oneself to eliminating the cause of these sufferings. But if one thinks twice, one falls into a maze: For if there is no suffering in the world, is it possible for the world to exist? If stupidity is extinguished, where is the virtue of intelligence? Without ugliness can there be beauty? Good without evil? Health without illness and disability?
I often dream of the day when all forms of disability disappear from the earth. But will disease replace disability and its victims suffer similar misfortunes? And if it were possible to eradicate disease from the face of the earth as well, would, for example, ugliness take its place? What will happen if we rid the world of ugliness, stupidity and evil, or unpleasant people and deeds, and everyone is equally healthy, good-looking, intelligent and honest? I fear, then, the curtains will have to fall on all human dramas. A world without disparities would be like a pool of stagnant water — a barren desert devoid of all meaning.
Disparity is an eternal necessity. Suffering must be endured, for it is an essential part of all human drama. We exist, therefore we suffer. God's plan is, after all, right.
无言是对的。要是上帝把漂亮和弱智这两样东西都给了这个小姑娘，就只有无言和回家去是对的。
谁又能把这世界想个明白呢？世上的很多事是不堪说的。你可以抱怨上帝何以要降诸多苦难给这人间，你也可以为消灭种种苦难而奋斗，并为此享有崇高与骄傲，但只要你再多想一步你就会坠入深深的迷茫了：假如世界上没有了苦难，世界还能够存在么？要是没有愚钝，机智还有什么光荣呢？要是没了丑陋，漂亮又怎么维系自己的幸运？要是没有了恶劣和卑下，善良与高尚又将如何界定自己又如何成为美德呢？要是没有了残疾，健全会否因其司空见惯而变得腻烦和乏味呢？我常梦想着在人间彻底消灭残疾，但可以相信，那时将由患病者代替残疾人去承担同样的苦难。如果能够把疾病也全数消灭，那么这份苦难又将由（比如说）相貌丑陋的人去承担了。就算我们连丑陋，连愚昧和卑鄙和一切我们所不喜欢的事物和行为，也都可以统统消灭掉，所有的人都一样健康、漂亮、聪慧、高尚，结果会怎样呢？怕是人间的剧目就全要收场了，一个失去差别的世界将是一潭死水，是一块没有感觉没有肥力的沙漠。
看来差别永远是要有的。看来就只好接受苦难—人类的全部剧目需要它，存在的本身需要它。看来上帝又一次对了。
Fate does not speak justice.
Then where is Noah's Ark for the unfortunate sufferers?
If knowledge and wisdom lead some to the Ark, can the rest discover the way there too?
I believe it is ugliness that sets off beauty, just as stupidity serves as a contrast to intelligence, cowardice to heroism and the unenlightened masses to Buddha.
If the temple has a guardian spirit, it must have seen me sitting here all these years. Three questions, basically, have kept haunting me: Shall I take my own life? Why should I remain alive? And why do I write?
I've said earlier that death is something that doesn't need to be pursued in haste, for sooner or later one will meet it. Just try to live on. It is this crucial point that has kept me going. Why not give it another try? Possibly because I didn't want to give up just like that. Life is too precious. Seeing as I'd lost the use of my legs, there was nothing more I could lose. It can't hurt to try. I might even discover something during the process. So I became more relaxed, more free.
But why do I bother to write? Writing is still a profession that wins people's respect, everybody knows that. As a disabled man sitting all day long in a wheel-chair in an old temple, I wish some day I may attract the attention of others and gain an entry to their hearts. If I die then it will not be so worthless. That is what I thought in the beginning.
于是就有一个最令人绝望的结论等在这里：由谁去充任那些苦难的角色？又由谁去体现这世间的幸福、骄傲和快乐？只好听凭偶然，是没有道理好讲的。
就命运而言，休论公道。