Liam O' Flaherty/利亚姆·奥弗莱厄蒂
马义禄 译
It was a summer afternoon. The clear blue sky was dotted with fluttering larks. The wind was still, as if it listened to their gentle singing. From the shining earth a faint smoke arose, like incense, shaken from invisible thuribles in a rhapsody of joy by hosts of unseen spirits. Such peace had fallen on the world! It seemed there was nothing but love and beauty everywhere; fragrant summer air and the laughter of happy birds. Everything listened to the singing larks in brooding thoughtlessness. Yea, even the horned snails lay stretched out on grey stones with their houses on their backs. There was no loud sound. Nothing asserted its size in a brutal tumult of wind and thunder. Nothing swaggered with a raucous noise to disarrange the perfect harmony. Even the tiny insects mounting the blades of grass with slow feet were giants in themselves and things of pride to nature.
那是个夏日的午后，天气晴朗，碧空里星星点点的云雀在翩翩起舞。风很静，似乎谛云雀柔美的歌声。熠熠闪光的大地升起一缕青烟，仿佛炉香缭绕，人群无影无踪的精灵正在兴高采烈地摇晃着无形的香炉，宁静笼罩着整个大地！好像到处都充满爱和美；夏日的芬芳阵阵袭来，欢快的小鸟啁啾婉转。周围的一起都忘情地听着云雀的歌唱。可不是吗，就连长着触角的蜗牛也伏着各自的窝棚，在青石上伸展开来。四周听不见什么喧闹声。没有任何东西以风啸雷鸣般的喧嚣显示其威势。没有任何东西以粗哑刺耳的噪音扰乱这完美的和谐。就连缓缓爬到草叶上的小虫也成了自行其是的庞然大物，也是大自然的杰作。
The grass blades, brushing with the movements of their growth, made joyous gentle sounds, like the sighs of a maiden in love.
A peasant and his family were working in a little field .The father, the mother, and four children were there. They were putting fresh earth around sprouting potato stalks. They were very happy. It was a good thing to work there in the little field beneath the singing larks. Yes, God, maybe, gave music to cheer their simple hearts.
The mother and the second eldest daughter weeded the ridges, passing before the others. The father carefully spread around the stalks the precious clay that the eldest son dug from the rocky bottom of the shallow field. A younger son, of twelve years, brought sea sand in a donkey’s creels from a far corner of the field. They mixed the sand with the black clay. The fourth child, still almost an infant, staggered about near his mother, plucking weeds slowly and offering them to his mother as gifts.
草叶竞相生长，微微拂动，发出轻柔的欢声，宛如初恋少女的叹息。有个农民一家人正在一小块地里干活，头顶上就有云雀在歌唱，地里有父亲、母亲和四个孩子。他们在往绽出新芽的土豆秧周围培新土。他们十分愉快。一边在地里干活一边倾听头顶上云雀的歌唱，真是乐在其中。真是啊，也许上帝在用音乐激励他们淳朴的心吧。
母亲和二女儿在垄上锄草，把旁人甩在后面。父亲小心翼翼地把土撒在土豆秧四周，这土得来不易，是大儿子从这块薄地底下的石头缝里挖出来的。二儿子12岁，从老远的地头把海滩上的沙子装进鱼篮，赶着毛驴伏了回来。他们把黑土掺上沙子。老四还是个小不点儿，在母亲身边摇摇晃晃转悠着，慢吞吞拔起杂草，当礼物送给母亲。
They worked in silence; except once when by chance the father’s shovel slipped on a stone and dislodged a young stalk from its shallow bed. The father uttered a cry. They all looked. “Oh! Praised be God on high” the mother said, crossing herself.
In the father’s hands was the potato stalk and from its straggling thin roots here hung a cluster of tiny new potatoes, smaller than small marbles. Already their seeds had borne fruit and multiplied. They all stood around and wondered. Then suddenly the eldest son, a stripling, spat on his hands and said wistfully:
“Ah, if Mary were here now wouldn’t she be glad to see the new potatoes. I remember, on this very spot, she spread seaweed last winter.”
大家默默地干活；只有一次父亲的铁楸在石头上一滑，把一棵土豆秧铲下了垄台。父亲叫出声音来，大家都瞪着眼睛看着。
“啊！上天保佑啊！”母亲边说边在身上画着十字。
只见父亲手捧着土豆秧，稀疏的细跟上挂着一串新长出的小土豆蛋子，比弹子还小。种子已经结果繁殖了。大家围拢来，好不稀罕。大儿子是长大成人了，他忽然往手上吐了口唾沫，若有所思地说：“嗨！玛丽现在要是在这儿，看到新长出的土豆，该多高兴呀！我记得去年冬天，就是这块地，还是她撒的海草泥。”
Silence followed this remark. It was of the eldest daughter he had spoken. She had gone to America in early spring. Since then they had only receive done letter from her. A neighbor’s daughter had written home recently, though, that Mary was without work. She had left her first place that a priest had found for her, as servant in a rich woman’s house.
The mother bowed her head and murmured sadly:
“God is good. Maybe today we’ll get a letter.”
The father stooped again, struck the earth fiercely with his shovel, and whispered harshly:
“Get with the work.”
They moved away .But the eldest son mused for a while, looking over the distant hills. Then he said loudly to his mother as if in defiance:
“It’s too proud she is to write, mother, until she has money to send. I know Mary. She was always the proud one.”
话音落下，一阵沉默，他说的是大女儿。她开春去了美国，打那以后，家里只收到她一封信。不过，邻居的姑娘最近有信回家，说玛丽没活儿干了。她起初那份差事是个牧师给找的，在一家阔女人那儿当差，后来她走了。母亲垂下头，凄楚地低声道：“上帝心好啊。说不定今天我们会有信来。”
父亲又弯下腰，把铁揪狠狠戳在地上，粗声粗气压着嗓门说：“干活吧。”
大家都散开了。只是大儿子望着远山寻思了一会儿，接着像是存心作对似的冲着母亲大声说：“妈妈，她太要强了，所以不写信，她有钱寄来就会写的。我了解玛丽，从来数她顶要强。”
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