沈从文《一个多情水手与一个多情妇人》中英双语 -《湘西散记：汉英对照》

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一个多情水手与一个多情妇人

我的小表到了七点四十分时，天光还不很亮。停船地方两山过高，故住在河上的人，睡眠仿佛也就可以多些了。小船上水手昨晚上吃了我五斤河鱼，吃过了鱼，大约还记得着那吃鱼的原因，不好意思再睡，这时节业已起身，卷了铺盖，在烧水扫雪了。两个水手一面工作一面用野话编成韵语骂着玩着，对于恶劣天气与那些昨晚上能晃着火炬到有吊脚楼人家去同宽脸大奶子妇人纠缠的水手，含着无可奈何的妒忌。

大木筏都得天明时漂滩，正预备开头，寄宿在岸上的人已陆续下了河，与宿在筏上的水手们，共同开始从各处移动木料。筏上有斧斤声与大摇槌嘭嘭的敲打木桩的声音。许多在吊脚楼寄宿的人，从妇人热被里脱身，皆在河滩大石间踉跄走着，回归船上。妇人们恩情所结，也多和衣靠着窗边，与河下人遥遥传述那种种“后会有期各自珍重”的话语。很显然的事，便是这些人从昨夜那点儿露水恩情上，已经各在那里支付分上一把眼泪与一把埋怨。想到这些眼泪与埋怨，如何揉进这些人的生活中，成为生活之一部分，使人心中柔和得很！

第一个大木筏开始移动时，约在八点左右。木筏四隅数十支大桡，泼水而前，筏上且起了有节奏的“欸”声。接着又移动了第二个。……木筏上的桡手，各在微明中画出一个黑色的轮廓。木筏上某一处必飏着一片红红的火光，火堆旁必有人正蹲下用钢罐煮水。

我的小船到这时节一切业已安排就绪，也行将离岸，向长潭上游溯江而上了。

只听到河下小船邻近不远某一只船上，有个水手哑着嗓子喊人：

“牛保，牛保，不早了，开船了呀！”

许久没有回答，于是又听那个人喊道：

“牛保，牛保，你不来当真船开动了！”

再过一阵，催促转而成为辱骂，不好听的话已上口了。

“牛保，牛保，狗×的，你个狗就见不得河街女人的×！”

吊脚楼上那一个，到此方仿佛初从好梦中惊醒，从热被里妇人手臂中逃出，光身跑到窗边来答着：

“宋宋，宋宋，你喊什么？天气还早咧。”

“早你的娘，人家木簰全开了，你×了一夜还尽不够！”

“好兄弟，忙什么？今天到白鹿潭好好的喝一杯！天气早得很！”

“早得很，哼，早你的娘！”

“就算是早我的娘吧。”

最后一句话，不过是我想象的。因为河岸水面那一个，虽尚呶呶不已，楼上那一个却业已沉默了。大约这时节那个妇人还卧在床上，也开了口：“牛保，牛保，你别理他，冷得很！”因此即刻又回到床上热被里去了。

只听到河边那个水手喃喃的骂着各种野话，且有意识把船上家伙撞磕得很响。我心想：这是个什么样子的人，我倒应该看看他。且很希望认识岸上那一个。我知道他们那只船也正预备上行，就告给我小船上水手，不忙开头，等等同那只船一块儿开。

不多久，许多木筏离岸了，许多下行船也拔了锚，推开篷，着手荡桨摇橹了。我卧在船舱中，就只听到水面人语声，以及橹桨激水声，与橹桨本身被扳动时咿咿哑哑声。河岸吊脚楼上妇人在晓气迷蒙中锐声的喊人，正如同音乐中的笙管一样，超越众声而上。河面杂声的综合，交织了庄严与流动，一切真是一个圣境。

我出到舱外去站了一会儿。天已亮了，雪已止了，河面寒气逼人。眼看这些船筏各戴上白雪浮江而下，这里那里飏着红红的火焰同白烟，两岸高山则直矗而上，如对立巨魔，颜色淡白，无雪处皆作一片墨绿。奇景当前，有不可形容的瑰丽。

一会儿，河面安静了。只剩下几只小船同两片小木筏，还无开头意思。

河岸上有个蓝面短衣青年水手，正从半山高处人家下来，到一只小船上去。因为必须从我的小船边过身，故我把这人看得清清楚楚。大眼，宽脸，鼻子短，宽阔肩膊下挂着两只大手（手上还提了一个棕衣口袋，里面填得满满的），走路时肩背微微向前弯曲，看来处处皆证明这个人是一个能干得力的水手！我就冒昧的喊他，同他说话：

“牛保，牛保，你玩得好！”

谁知那水手当真就是牛保。

那家伙回过头来看看是我叫他，就笑了。我们的小船好几天以来，皆一同停泊，一同启碇，我虽不认识他，他原来早就认识了我的。经我一问，他有点儿害羞起来了。他把那口袋举起带笑说道：

“先生，冷呀！你不怕冷吗？我这里有核桃，你要不要吃核桃？”

我以为他想卖给我些核桃，不愿意扫他的兴，就说我要，等等我一定向他买些。

他刚走到他自己那只小船边，就快乐的唱起来了。忽然税关复查处比邻吊脚楼人家窗口，露出一个年青妇人鬓发散乱的头颅，向河下人锐声叫将起来：“牛保，牛保，我同你说的话，你记着吗？”

年青水手向吊脚楼一方把手挥动着。

“唉，唉，我记得到！……冷！你是怎么的啊！快上床去！”大约他知道妇人起身到窗边时，是还不穿衣服的。

妇人似乎因为一番好意不能使水手领会，有点儿不高兴的神气。

“我等你十天，你有良心，你就来——”说着，嘭的一声把格子窗放下了。这时节眼睛一定已红了。

那一个还向吊脚楼喃喃说着什么，随即也上了船。我看看，那是一只深棕色的小货船。

我的小船行将开头时，那个青年水手牛保却跑来送了一包核桃。我以为他是拿来卖给我的，赶快取了一张值五角的票子递给他。这人见了钱只是笑。他把钱交还，把那包核桃从我手中抢了回去。

“先生，先生，你买我的核桃，我不卖！我不是做生意人。（他把手向吊脚楼指了一下，话说得轻了些。）那婊子同我要好，她送我的。送了我那么多，还有栗子，干鱼。还说了许多痴话，等我回来过年咧。……”

慷慨原是辰河水手一种通常的性格。既不要我的钱，皮箱上正搁了一包烟台苹果，我随手取了四个大苹果送给他，且问他：

“你回不回来过年？”

他只笑嘻嘻的把头点点，就带了那四个苹果飞奔而去。我要水手开了船。小船已开到长潭中心时，忽然又听到河边那个哑嗓子在喊嚷：

“牛保，牛保，你是怎么的？我×你的妈，还不下河，我翻你的三代，还……”

一会儿，一切皆沉静了，就只听到我小船船头分水的声音。

听到水手的辱骂，我方明白那个快乐多情的水手，原来得了苹果后，并不即返船，仍然又到吊脚楼人家去了。他一定把苹果献给那个妇人，且告给妇人这苹果的来源，说来说去，到后来自然又轮着来听妇人说的痴话，所以把下河的时间完全忘掉了。

小船已到了辰河多滩的一段路程，长潭尽后就是无数大滩小滩。河水半月来已落下六尺，雪后又照例无风，较小船只即或可以不从大漕上行，沿着河边浅水处走去也依然十分费事。水太干了，天气又实在太冷了点儿。我伏在舱口看水手们一面骂野话，一面把长篙向急流乱石间掷去，心中却念及那个多情水手。船上滩时浪头俨然只想把船上人攫走。水流太急，故常常眼看业已到了滩头，过了最紧要处，但在抽篙换篙之际，忽然又会为急流冲下。海水又大又深，大浪头拍岸时常如一个小山，但它总使人觉得十分温和。河水可同一股火，太热情了一点儿，时时刻刻皆想把人攫走，且仿佛完全只凭自己意见作去。但古怪的是这些弄船人，他们逃避激流同漩水的方法十分巧妙。他们得靠水为生，明白水，比一般人更明白水的可怕处；但他们为了求生，却在每个日子里每一时间皆有向水中跳去的准备。小船一上滩时，就不能不向白浪里钻去，可是他们却又必有方法从白浪里找到出路。

在一个小滩上，因为河面太宽，小漕河水过浅，小船缆绳不够长不能拉纤，必需尽手足之力用篙撑上，我的小船一连上了五次皆被急流冲下。船头全是水。到后想把船从对河另一处大漕走去，漂流过河时，从白浪中钻出钻进，篷上也沾了水。在大漕中又上了两次，还花钱加了个临时水手，方把这只小船弄上滩。上过滩后问水手是什么滩，方知道这滩名“骂娘滩”（说野话的滩！）。即或是父子弄船，一面弄船一面也得互骂各种野话，方可以把船弄上滩口。

一整天小船尽是上滩，我一面欣赏那些从船舷驰过急于奔马的白浪，一面便用船上的小斧头，剥那个风流水手见赠的核桃吃。我估想这些硬壳果，说不定每一颗还都是那吊脚楼妇人亲手从树上摘下，用鞋底揉去一层苦皮，再一一加以选择，放到棕衣口袋里来的。望着那些棕色碎壳，那妇人说的“你有良心你就赶快来”一句话，也就尽在我耳边响着。那水手虽然这时节或许正在急水滩头趴伏到石头上拉船，或正脱了裤子涉水过溪，一定却记忆着吊脚楼妇人的一切，心中感觉十分温暖。每一个日子的过去，便使他与那妇人接近一点点。十天完了，过年了，那吊脚楼上，照例门楣上全贴了红喜钱，被捉的雄鸡咯咯的叫着。雄鸡宰杀后，把它向门角落抛去，只听到翅膀扑地的声音。锅中蒸了一笼糯米，热气腾腾的倒入大石臼中，两人就开始在一个石臼里捣将起来。一切事都是两个人共力合作，一切工作中都掺和有笑谑与善意的诅骂。于是当真过年了。又是叮咛与眼泪，在一分长长的日子里有所期待，留在船上另一个放声的辱骂催促着，方下了船，又是核桃与栗子，干鲤鱼与……

到了午后，天气太冷，无从赶路。时间还只三点左右，我的小船便停泊了。停泊地方名为杨家岨。依然有吊脚楼，飞楼高阁悬在半山中，结构美丽悦目。小船傍在大石边，只须一跳就可以上岸。岸上吊脚楼前枯树边，正有两个妇人，穿了毛蓝布衣裳，不知商量些什么，幽幽的说着话。这里雪已极少，山头皆裸露作深棕色，远山则为深紫色。地方静得很，河边无一只船，无一个人，无一堆柴。不知河边哪一块大石后面有人正在捶捣衣服，一下一下的捣。对河也有人说话，却看不清楚人在何处。

小船停泊到这些小地方，我真有点儿担心。船上那个壮年水手，是一个在军营中开过小差作过种种非凡事情的人物，成天在船上只唱着“过了一天又一天，心中好似滚油煎”，若误会了我箱中那些带回湘西送人的信笺信封，以为是值钱东西，在唱过了埋怨生活的戏文以后，转念头来玩个新花样，说不定我还来不及被询问“吃板刀面或吃云吞”以前，就被他解决了。这些事我倒不怎么害怕，凡是蠢人作出的事我不知道什么叫吓怕的。只是有点儿担心。因为若果这个人做出了这种蠢事，我完了，他跑了，这地方可糟了。地方既属于我那些同乡军官大老管辖，就会把他们可忙坏了。

我盼望牛保那只小船赶来，也停泊到这个地方，一面可以不用担心，一面还可以同这个有人性的多情水手谈谈。

直等到黄昏，方来了一只邮船，靠着小船下了锚。过不久，邮船那一面有个年青水手嚷着要支点儿钱上岸去吃“荤烟”，另一个管事的却不允许，两人便争吵起来了。只听到年青的那一个呶呶絮语，声音神气简直同大清早上那个牛保一个样子。到后来，这个水手负气，似乎空着个荷包，也仍然上岸过吊脚楼人家去了。过了一会儿还不见他回船，我很想知道一下他到了那里作些什么事情，就要一个水手为我点上一段废缆，晃着那小小火把，引导我离了船，爬了一段小小山路，到了所谓河街。

五分钟后，我与这个穿绿衣的邮船水手，一同坐到一个人家正屋里火堆旁，默默的在烤火了。面前一个大油松树根株，正伴同一饼油渣，熊熊的燃着快乐的火焰。间或有人用脚或树枝拨了那么一下，便有好看的火星四散惊起。主人是一个中年妇人，另外还有两个老妇人，不断向水手提出种种问题，且把关于下河的油价，木价，米价，盐价，一件一件来询问他，他却很散漫的回答，只低下头望着火堆。从那个颈项同肩膊，我认得这个人的性格同灵魂，竟完全同早上那个牛保一样。我明白他沉默的理由，一定是船上管事的不给他钱，到岸上来赊烟不到手。他那闷闷不乐的神气，可以说是很妩媚。我心想请他一次客，又不便说出口。到后机会却来了。门开处进来了一个年事极轻的妇人，头上裹着大格子花布首巾，身穿葱绿色土布袄子，系一条蓝色围裙，胸前还绣了一朵小小白花。那年轻妇人把两只手插在围裙里，轻脚轻手进了屋，就站在中年妇人身后。说真话，这个女人真使我有点儿惊讶。我似乎在什么地方另一时节见着这样一个人，眼目鼻子皆仿佛十分熟悉。若不是当真在某一处见过，那就必定是在梦里了。公道一点儿说来，这妇人是个美丽得很的生物！

最先我以为这小妇人是无意中撞来玩玩，听听从下河来的客人谈谈下面事情，安慰安慰自己寂寞的。可是一瞬间，我却明白她是为另一件事而来的了。屋主人要她坐下，她却不肯坐下，只把一双放光的眼睛尽瞅着我，待到我抬起头去望她时，那眼睛却又赶快逃避了。她在一个水手面前一定没有这种羞怯，为这点儿羞怯我心中有点儿惆怅，引起了点儿怜悯。这怜悯一半给了这个小妇人，却一半留下给我自己。

那邮船水手眼睛为小妇人放了光，很快乐的说：

“夭夭，夭夭，你打扮得真像个观音！”

那女人抿嘴笑着不理会，表示这点儿阿谀并不稀罕，一会儿方轻轻的说：

“我问你，白师傅的大船到了桃源不到？”

邮船水手回答了，妇人又轻轻的问：

“杨金保的船？”

邮船水手又回答了，妇人又继续问着这个那个。我一面向火一面听他们说话，却在心中计算一件事情。小妇人虽同邮船水手谈到岁暮年末水面上的情形，但一颗心却一定在另外一件事情上驰骋。我几乎本能的就感到了这个小妇人是正在对我感到特别兴趣。不用惊奇，这不是稀奇事情。我们若稍懂人情，就会明白一张为都市所折磨而成的白脸，同一件称身软料细毛衣服，在一个小家碧玉心中所能引起的是一种如何幻想，对目前的事也便不用多提了。

对于身边这个小妇人，也正如先前一时对于身边那个邮船水手一样，我想不出用个什么方法，就可以使这个有了点儿野心与幻想的人，得到她所要得到的东西。其实我在两件事上皆不能再吝啬了，因为我对于他们皆十分同情。但试想想看，倘若这个小妇人所希望的是我本身，我这点儿同情，会不会引起五千里外另一个人的苦痛？我笑了。

……假若我给这水手一笔钱，让这小妇人同他谈一个整夜？

我正那么计算着，且安排如何来给那个邮船水手钱，使他不至于感觉难为情。忽然听那年轻妇人问道：

“牛保那只船？”

那邮船水手吐了一口气。“牛保的船吗，我们一同上骂娘滩，溜了四次。末后船已上了滩，那拦头的伙计还同他在互骂，且不知为什么互相用篙子乱打乱剸起来，船又溜下滩去了。看那样子不是有一个人落水，就得两个人同时落水。”

有谁发问：“为什么？”

邮船水手感慨似的说：“还不是为那一张×！”

几人听着这件事，皆大笑不已。那年轻小妇人，却长长的吁了一口气。

忽然河街上有个老年人嘶声的喊人：

“夭夭小婊子，小婊子婆，卖×的，你是怎么的，夹着那两片小×，一䀹眼又跑到哪里去了！你来！……”

小妇人听门外街口有人叫她，把小嘴收敛做出一个爱娇的姿势，带着不高兴的神气自言自语说：“叫骡子又叫了。你就叫吧。夭夭小婊子偷人去了！投河吊颈去了！”咬着下唇很有情致的盯了我一眼，拉开门，放进了一阵寒风，人却冲出去，消失到黑暗中不见了。

那邮船水手望了望小妇人去处那扇大门，自言自语的说：

“小婊子偏偏嫁老烟鬼，天晓得！”

于是大家便来谈说刚才走去的那个小妇人的一切。屋主中年妇人，告给我那小妇人年纪还只十九岁，却为一个年过五十的老兵所占有。老兵原是一个烟鬼，虽占有了她，只要谁有土有财就让床让位。至于小妇人呢，人太年轻了点儿，对于钱毫无用处，却似乎常常想得很远很远。屋主人且为我解释很远很远那句话的意思，给我证明了先前一时我所感觉到的一件事情的真实。原来这小妇人虽生在不能爱好的环境里，却天生有种爱好的性格。老烟鬼用名分缚着了她的身体，然而那颗心却无从拘束。一只船无意中在码头边停靠了，这只船又恰恰有那么一个年青男子，一切派头都和水手不同，夭夭那颗心，将如何为这偶然而来的人跳跃！屋主人所说的话，增加了我对于这个年轻妇人的关心。我还想多知道一点儿，请求她告给我，我居然又知道了些不应当写在纸上的事情。到后来，谈起命运，那屋主人沉默了，众人也沉默了。各人眼望着熊熊的柴火，心中玩味着“命运”两个字的意义，而且皆俨然有一点儿痛苦。

我呢，在沉默中体会到一点儿“人生”的苦味。我不能给那个小妇人什么，也再不作给那水手一点点钱的打算了。我觉得他们的欲望同悲哀都十分神圣，我不配用钱或别的方法渗进他们命运里去，扰乱他们生活上那一份应有的哀乐。

下船时，在河边我听到一个人唱《十想郎》小曲，曲调卑陋，声音却清圆悦耳。我知道那是由谁口中唱出且为谁唱的。我站在河边寒风中痴了许久。

An Amorous Boatman and an Amorous Woman

It was 7:40 by my watch, yet not very light. The two mountains between which we had moored loomed so high that the villagers living below seemed to have more time to sleep. I had treated the crew of my small boat to five catties of fish the previous evening, and probably the recollection of this made them ashamed to sleep late for, already up, they had folded their quilts and were boiling water or sweeping away the snow. As they worked to pass the time, they reeled off abusive jingles in bad language. In frustration, they cursed the foul weather and those boatmen who had managed the previous evening to go up with flaring torches to the stilt-houses and have it off with some broad faced, big-breasted woman.

The large wooden rafts had to make an early start. As they prepared to cast off, men who had spent the night ashore came back in relays to help those who had slept on board to move timber. The chopping sound made by their axes blended with the pounding of hammers on wooden stakes. The boatmen who had slept in the stilt-houses, snug in a woman’s warm quilt, came lurching down through the boulders back to their boats. Many women, having a soft spot for them, draped clothes over their shoulders to lean out of the window and farewell the men far below. “Take care of yourself till we meet again!” they called.It was obvious that their love-making last night had already cost each of them some tears and resentment. The thought of those tears, that resentment, and how they entered into these people’s lives would soften anyone’s heart!

It was round about eight when the first large raft moved off.Dozens of big oars on all its four corners splashed forward, and a rhythmical chant was set up. Then the second raft moved off. The oarsmen were black silhouettes against the faint light. Red flames could be seen on one part of every raft where a man was squatting to boil a can of water.

All was ready now in my boat to leave the shore and head upstream to Long Lake.

On a boat not far from ours I heard a boatman yell hoarsely:

“Niu Bao, Niu Bao, it’s not early. Time to start!”

For a long time no one answered. Again he yelled:

“Niu Bao, Niu Bao. If you don’t come I’ll leave without you!”

After a while the man switched from shouting to swearing.

“Niu Bao, Niu Bao, you dog-shit. Stop screwing that woman,will you?”

Only then did the man in the stilt-house appear to wake with a start from his sweet dreams and jump out from the woman’s arms in her warm quilt. Padding naked to the window he called back:

“What are you yelling for, Songsong? It’s still early.”

“Fuck your mother! The rafts have all left. A whole night’s fucking, isn’t that enough?”

“What’s the hurry, mate? I’ll stand you a drink when we get to White Deer Lake. It’s early yet.”

“Call this early? Mother-fucker!”

“All right, so I’m a mother-fucker.”

This last sentence was dreamed up by me. Because although the man in the boat was still growling, the one in the house kept quiet. Now the woman still in bed would probably say, “Don’t mind him, Niu Bao, it’s freezing!” And at once he burrowed back into the warm quilt.

The man in the boat continued muttering curses and clattered the pots and pans. I thought I ought to see what the fellow looked like, and hoped to meet the one who had gone ashore. I knew that they would be going upstream too, so I told my boatmen to wait for the other boat and leave together.

Before long, most of the rafts had left and many boats going downstream had weighed anchor, pushed open their canopies and rowed off. Lying in the cabin I listened to the talk on the river,the plash of rowing and the creaking of oars. In the hazy light of dawn the shrill cries of the women in the stilt-houses sounded like reed-pipes pitched higher than the rest of the orchestra. The medley of sounds on the river intermingled magnificently and floated out to make the whole scene something out of this world.

I went to stand outside the cabin. It was light now, the snow had stopped, and the river was bitterly cold. I watched boats and rafts white with snow drifting downstream, red flames and white steam rising here and there from their decks. The hills on both banks rising sheer, like giants confronting each other, glimmered white with the exception of patches of dark green where the snow had melted. This extraordinary scene was indescribably lovely.

Soon the river was quiet. Only a few small boats and two little rafts remained at their moorings with no intention of leaving.

Halfway up the hill a young boatman in a blue cotton jacket came out of a house to make his way down to his boat. As he had to pass mine I got a good look at his big eyes, broad face, short nose, broad shoulders and powerful hands, in which he carried a coir bag which was bulging. He walked with slightly hunched shoulders. Everything about him proclaimed that this was a first rate boatman! I took the liberty of accosting him.

“Niu Bao! Had a good time?”

It was indeed Niu Bao.

He turned to see who had called, and grinned at me. For several days our boats had moored and weighed anchor together,so although I did not know him he recognized me. My question embarrassed him slightly. He held up his bag and said with a smile:

“It’s freezing! Don’t you feel the cold, sir? I’ve walnuts here.Would you like some?”

I thought he was offering to sell them, and not wanting to disappoint him I promised to buy some from him presently.

As soon as he reached his boat he started singing cheerfully.Suddenly, in the window of a house next to the tax office,appeared the head of a woman with tousled hair. She called down shrilly:

“Niu Bao, Niu Bao! Remember what I told you?”

The young boatman waved to her.

“Sure, I’ll remember!… Don’t catch cold! Go back to bed!”He guessed that she had run to the window with no clothes on.

The woman looked rather upset, as if he had failed to appreciate how well she meant.

“I’ll wait ten days, then have a heart, come back …” She let down the lattice-window with a bang. Her eyes must now be red.

After calling out again towards the stilt-house he boarded his boat, a dark brown cargo boat.

We were just about to cast off when Niu Bao ran over to give me a package of walnuts. Under the impression that he was selling them, I promptly handed him a fifty-cent note. At the sight of it he laughed and thrust it back, then snatched the walnuts from my hands and made off.

“Oh no, sir! My walnuts aren’t for sale! I’m no peddler. (He pointed at the stilt-house, lowering his voice.) She took a fancy to me and gave them to me. A whole lot of walnuts, chestnuts and salted fish. And a whole lot of silly talk—wants me to go back for New Year.”

The boatmen of those parts are generous people. As he would not accept payment, I took four big Yantai apples from a pile on my case and gave him these, asking:

“Will you go back at New Year?”

He simply grinned and nodded, then rushed away with the fruit. I told my boatmen to start. We were in midstream when I heard a gruff shout from the bank:

“What the hell are you up to, Niu Bao? Fuck your mother!Still mucking around. Shit on your ancestors …”

Soon all was still, apart from the sound of our boat cutting through the water.

From the boatman’s curses I realized that the cheerful,amorous youngster had taken the apples not to his boat but up to the stilt-house instead. He must have given them to the woman there, telling her where they came from, after which it would naturally be her turn to talk nonsense again, making him completely forget that it was time to go back to the river.

We had now reached a stretch of the River Chen where there were endless rapids, large and small. In the last two weeks the water had gone down six feet. There was no wind after the snowfall, and small vessels even if they steered clear of midstream found it hard to row up the shallows by the bank. The river was too low and the weather was really too cold. Crouching in the cabin doorway I watched the boatmen cursing as they thrust their long poles on to the rocks in the current. My thoughts were still with that other amorous boatman. As we tacked upstream fearsome waves tried to snatch us off the deck. The current was racing. Often, just as we thought we had passed the worst stretch of a rapid, when the poles were raised to be plunged in once more the current would suddenly sweep us back again. The sea,though vast and deep with mountainous billows, impresses sailors as gentle. But that river was like a fire, it was too ardent, trying every minute to carry us away, as if completely headstrong. The strange thing was that these boatmen had artful dodges to escape currents and whirlpools. They depended on the water for a living,knew the river and its dangers better than anyone else; but in order to survive they were ready at every second to jump into the water. Going through the rapids, forced to drive through the white waves, they had to know how to find a passage through them.

In one small rapid, the river was so broad and so shallow at the edge, that our hawser was too short to tug the boat. The boatmen had to punt with might and main, but five times in succession the current swept us back. Our prow was under water. They decided then to cross to a deeper channel by the other bank, and as we veered across through the foaming waves even our canopy was soaked. We made two attempts to navigate that deeper channel, and only succeeded in the end by hiring an extra boatman. I asked the name of this rapid, and learned that it was called “Fuck-Your-Mother”. Even if a father and son were manning a boat up this stretch, they exhausted their stock of swear words on each other before winning through to calm water.

We had rapids to contend with all that day. While admiring the foaming waves which raced past like chargers, I used the small axe on board to crack the walnuts given me by the gallant boatman. I imagined that woman in the stilt-house picking them one by one from the tree, rubbing off the bitter rind with the sole of her shoe, then choosing the best to put in the coir bag. As I looked at their broken brown shells I seemed to hear her saying,“Have a heart and come back soon.” At this moment that boatman might be straining forward on a rock tugging his boat through the rapids; he might have stripped off his trousers to wade through the water. But remembering the details of his affair would warm his heart. Each passing day would bring him a bit closer to that woman. After ten days, at New Year, those stilt-houses would have red “Happiness” signs posted over their lintels, the roosters caught would be crowing; after being killed they would be flung in a corner, flapping the ground with their wings. The glutinous rice would be emptied out of the steamer, and the two of them would start pounding it in a stone mortar. All tasks would be shared by both and interspersed with jokes and good-natured curses. Then, after New Year, would come fresh exhortations and tears, another long spell of waiting. The other man on the boat would have to swear at him to look sharp before he went back aboard with more walnuts, chestnuts, salted carp …

After noon it was too cold to continue our journey. The boat moored early, round about three o’clock. At a place called Yang Family Cliff. Here too there were finely built stilt-houses, like towers and pavilions hung halfway up the hill to delight the eyes.Our boat anchored by a boulder, so that with a single bound you could go ashore. By an old tree in front of one of the stilt-houses,two women in blue homespun were engaged in a quiet discussion.There was little snow here, the hilltops were dark brown, the distant mountains purple. The place was very quiet, with no other boats, and not a soul nor a wood-stack by the river. Someone was pounding laundry behind a rock on the bank. On the other shore people were talking, but they were out of sight.

Mooring in such a small place made me rather nervous.My middle-aged boatman, a deserter from the army, acted outrageously in many ways. On board he kept singing, “The days pass slowly by, and desperate am I.” If he got it into his head that the case of stationery which I meant to give to friends in west Hunan was full of valuables, after singing that aria lamenting his fate he might decide to play a new trick and finish me off, not even stopping to ask whether I wanted to have my head chopped off or be chucked overboard. Not that I was really afraid of this,or of any other stupid trick he might play. I simply felt rather nervous. Because if he was fool enough to kill me and run away,this place would be in for trouble. It was under the jurisdiction of the military commanders from my parts, who would leave no stone unturned to apprehend him.

I hoped Niu Bao’s boat would come along and moor here, to end my nervousness and give me the chance to chat with that very human, amorous boatman.

Not till dusk did a mailboat arrive and cast anchor beside us. Presently a young boatman on it clamoured for money to go ashore and smoke opium, but the man in charge refused, and they started squabbling. The young fellow blustered exactly as Niu Bao had that morning. Later, he still went ashore grumpily; it seemed that he went with an empty purse, to climb up to the stilt-houses.When he had been gone for some time I was curious to know what he was doing there and asked a boatman to light a strip of rotten hawser for me. Carrying this small torch he led me ashore and up a little path to River Street.

Five minutes later I was sitting with the mailboat man in a green uniform by the fire in someone’s main room, where we warmed ourselves in silence. The stump of a pine tree and a slab of pressed oil-dregs were blazing away merrily. If prodded with someone’s foot or with a stick, bright sparks flew in all directions.The mistress of the house was middle-aged, and there were two old women as well. Although the mistress of the house asked him all sorts of questions he only gave casual answers to her inquiries about the price of oil, timber, rice and salt downstream, keeping his head lowered to stare at the fire. Judging by his neck and shoulders, his character must duplicate that of Niu Bao. I knew he was keeping quiet because his boss had given him no money for a pipe of opium. There was something engaging about his sulkiness.I felt like treating him, but could hardly suggest this. A chance came later on when the door opened to admit a young woman wearing a big striped turban, green homespun jacket and blue apron on the breast of which she had embroidered a tiny white flower. She had both hands tucked in the apron as she came softly in to stand behind the mistress of the house. To tell the truth, she quite took my breath away. Surely I must have met her somewhere before, her eyes and features all seemed so familiar. If I hadn’t met her before, I must have dreamed about her. Honestly speaking she was a ravishing creature!

At first I thought this young woman had dropped in to enjoy herself and hear the news from down the river, to lessen her loneliness. But I quickly discovered that she had a different motive. When the mistress of the house invited her to sit down,she declined, staring at me intently, bright-eyed, until I looked up at her—then she hastily glanced away. A boatman would never have made her feel so shy. Her shyness rather saddened me and made me feel rather sorry. Sorry for her and for myself as well.

The mailboat boatman’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. He said cheerfully:

“Yaoyao, you’ve got yourself up like a regular Goddess of Mercy!”

Her lips puckered in a smile, but she ignored him as if accustomed to such compliments. Presently she asked softly:

“Tell me, has Master Bai’s big boat reached Taoyuan?”

Told that it had, she once again asked softly:

“And Yang Jinbao’s boat?”

He told her yes it had, and she went on asking questions.Leaning towards the fire I listened, turning over a plan in my mind. Though the young woman was chatting with the boatman about the New Year preparations downstream, her heart must be beating faster for some other reason. I felt instinctively that she had taken a fancy to me. No, don’t be surprised; this was nothing extraordinary. If we know anything about women, it is clear that the pallor produced by the grind of life in town, and a well-cut,soft woollen gown, would set a pretty girl dreaming. Enough said.

In her case, just as in the case of the boatman by whom I’d been sitting, I could not hit on a way to make her wild dream come true. I wouldn’t have been niggardly in either case, because I felt such sympathy for them both. However, on reflection, if the young woman was attracted to me, this sympathy of mine might well distress someone else five thousand li away. I smiled.

… Suppose I gave the boatman money to get her to spend the whole night with him?

I was thinking of this and of how to make the offer without embarrassing him, when suddenly she asked:

“And what of Niu Bao’s boat?”

The youngster from the mailboat snorted, “Niu Bao’s boat,eh? We came up together to Fuck-Your-Mother and were swept back four times. When we finally made it, he and that surly mate of his were still bawling each other out, and for some reason or other they started fighting, striking out with their poles. So their boat drifted downstream again. Looked as if one or both of them would end up in the river.”

Someone else asked, “Why should they fight?”

The boatman answered bluntly, “Because of a bitch.”

Everyone burst out laughing. Only the young woman sighed.

Suddenly an old man yelled from the street outside:

“Yaoyao, you little bitch, what the hell are you up to? Where have you run off to? Get your arse back here!…”

Hearing this, the young woman pouted charmingly and muttered crossly, “That old donkey’s calling again. His little bitch Yaoyao has skedaddled! Drowned herself or hung herself!” Biting her lower lip she flashed me a fond glance, then opened the door,letting in a gust of cold air as she went out to be swallowed up in the darkness.

The youngster from the mailboat stared at the door through which she had disappeared.

“Heaven knows why that little bitch should have married an old opium addict!” He murmured.

Then the women gave us the low-down on Yaoyao. The mistress of the house told me that she was only nineteen yet had been carried off by an exsoldier of over fifty, an opium addict. Although she belonged to him, he let any landlord or rich man sleep with her. And Yaoyao was too young to have any use for money, yet her thoughts always seemed to be far,far away. The mistress of the house explained what this meant,confirming my earlier impression. Although this girl was born into an environment no one could love, she was also a born enthusiast. The old opium addict used her married status to bind her physically to him, but her heart remained unfettered. If a boat moored by the wharf, and there happened to be aboard a young man completely different in style from a boatman, this accidental encounter made her heart flutter. This account increased my concern for Yaoyao. I asked more questions about her, and learned certain things not fit to be set down on paper. Finally I spoke of fate, and everyone fell silent. Staring at the blazing fire we savoured the meaning of “fate”, and our hearts sank.

As for me, in that silence I felt the bitterness of “life”. There was nothing I could do for Yaoyao, and I banished the thought of giving the boatman money. I had too much respect for their dreams and wretchedness. I was not qualified to use money or other means to intervene in their fates or disturb the griefs or joys they should have in their lives.

On my way back to my boat, on the bank I heard someone singing Longing for a Lover. The vulgar song actually sounded melodious and pleasing. I knew who was singing and for whom.Like an idiot I stood rooted to the bank in the cold wind.

未经允许不得转载：帕布莉卡 » 沈从文《一个多情水手与一个多情妇人》中英双语 -《湘西散记：汉英对照》