童年时的旅行 Childhood

夏洛特·勃朗特/Charlotte Bronte

It was in the cold weather, which follows the shortest day that we first came to England. I was a little child at the time—perhaps four years old, or between that and five. The sea voyage is well remembered by me；the milky greenness of the waves, the curl of the foam, the dark meeting of December sea and sky, the glinting sea-birds and passing ships, made each an imprint on my vision which I yet retain—worn but not obliterated.

When did we come? Where had we lived? What occasioned this voyage? Memory puzzles herself to reply to these questions. She reflects with finger raised to her lips and eyes bent on the pavement. She turns to her chronicle and searches its faded pages where the records are so pale, brief, and broken: this is all she reads—we came from a place where the buildings were numerous and stately, where before white house-fronts there rose here and there trees straight as spires, where there was one walk broad and endlessly long, down which on certain days rolled two tides: one of people on foot, brightly clad with shining silks, delicate bonnets with feathers and roses, scarves fluttering, little parasols gay as tulips；and the other of carriages rolling along rapid and quiet. Indeed, all was quiet in this walk it was a mysterious place, full of people but without noise.

We had lived in a house with slippery floors and no carpets；a house with many mirrors and many windows. In this house I know there was a hall with a door of red and violet glass, glowing brilliant in the shade of that end opposite the entrance. The bright portal opened into a garden, small but green, where there was turf, many flowers, and one tree. What chiefly made it green and filled it with leaf was the curtain of vines concealing the high walls—vines I know they were, because I remember both the grapes and the curled tendrils.

With whom did we live? To this question I can only reply—with my father；and of him I have twenty reminiscences, but they are all scant and fragmentary. My father—papa, as I called him, was the origin of all the punishments I had in those early days. I had an unreasonable wish to be always with him；and to this end, whenever the nurse who had charge of me turned her back, I was apt to escape from the nursery and seek the study. Then I was caught, shaken, and sometimes whipped, which I well deserved.

Whether my father knew how much I prized his presence I cannot pronounce. He was much engaged all day, frequently out, and when at home other gentlemen were with him；but it often happened of an evening that he would suddenly enter the nursery, come up to me as I sat in my little chair, stand a moment looking down at me, and as I held up my arms, full of pleasure, he would stoop, lift me, take me to his heart and say,“Polly may come downstairs now and be papa’s little visitress.”

Papa had a wonderfully interesting style of conversation, intelligible to my childish brain, delightful to my childish heart. He charmed while he taught me. I think he had a quick, fiery temper: his brain was indeed gentle for me, but not always for others. I remember him both hasty and stern, but never with me. I never irritated him, never feared to do so. How I liked to stroke his dark face with my hands, to stand on his knees and comb his hair, to rest my head against his shoulder and thus fall asleep!

我们第一次来到英格兰的时候，正是在最短的白昼即将来临前的严冬。当时我还是个孩子——可能是四岁，或者在四岁至五岁之间。那次航行我仍然记忆犹新：那乳白色的海浪，荡漾的泡沫，阴沉沉的十二月的海景与天光的融合，一闪而过的海鸟和航行的船只，这一切依然历历在目——虽然历经岁月的打磨，但仍令人难以忘却。

我们从哪里来？我们曾住在什么地方？是什么事促成了这次旅行？记忆本身就模模糊糊，回答不了这些问题。她在人行道上低着头，用手指滑过唇边和眼角思索着。打开她的记事簿，在发黄的纸页中翻看那暗淡、简短而支离破碎的记录，她能读到的只有这些——我来自这样一个地方，那里高楼林立，雄伟壮观，白色的房屋前到处是挺拔如塔楼的树木。那里有条平坦的、走不到尽头的大道。在这条道路上，卷起两股潮流：一股是步行者的潮流，穿着艳丽的丝绸衣物，戴着插有羽毛和玫瑰花的帽子，披巾飘动着，小阳伞像郁金香一样赏心悦目；另一股是轻捷的、静悄悄的马车的潮流。实际上，在那条马路上一切都是静悄悄的——那是一个神奇的地方，到处都是人，但并不吵闹。

我们住在一个地板光滑、没铺地毯的房间里。这里有许多镜子和窗户。在这幢房子里，我清楚地知道有一个大门，门上嵌着紫红色的玻璃，它那色彩斑斓的反光映照在门对面的阴影中。出了这条光线明亮的通道口，就可以见到一个小巧的绿色花园，那里有草坪、许多鲜花和一棵大树。使花园变得葱绿而且到处挂满叶子的，主要还是那些覆盖着高高围墙的葡萄藤——我明白那是葡萄藤，因为我对那一串串葡萄和弯弯曲曲的藤蔓印象深刻。

我们跟谁生活在一起？对于这个问题，我的回答只能是——跟我的父亲。对于他的事，我能记起一二十件，但都是支离破碎的。我的父亲——我当时叫他爸爸——是我童年时代所受到的一切惩罚的缘由。我总不合情理地希望经常跟他待在一起。为了做到这一点，每当负责照看我的保姆转过身去时，我就会悄悄地溜出育儿室去找他的书房。然后我就会被逮住，身子被摇晃着，有时还会挨揍，那都是我应得的。

我的父亲是否了解我多么珍视与他在一起的机会，这我不敢断言。他整天忙忙碌碌，经常出门。即使在家里时，也总有别的乡绅与他在一起。不过，黄昏时分，他经常会突然走入育儿室，走到我坐的小椅子边，站上一会儿，眼睛看着我。当我兴高采烈地伸出手臂时，他会低头把我抱在他的胸口，说：“波莉，现在可以下楼做爸爸的小客人了。”

爸爸有一种灵活而有趣的谈话方式，很容易使我幼稚的头脑明了一切，让我天真的心灵感到兴奋。当教导我时，他显得非常有魅力。我觉得他的性情有点儿急躁，他对我确实很温柔，但他对别人并不总是这样。我记得他既性急又严厉，但对我从来不是这样。我从来不惹他发怒，从来不担心他会生气。我多么想用我的小手拍拍他黝黑的面庞，站在他的身边，梳理他的头发，或者把头靠在他的怀里睡上一觉啊！

心灵小语

我们对童年的回忆可能模糊，但是对自己所得到的爱，和那些给予我们爱的亲人，却深深铭记，因为我们是如此深深地思念他们，依恋他们。

obliterate v.除去；清除；涂掉；擦掉；消灭

例 The sand-storm obliterated his footprints.

沙尘暴掩埋掉了他的脚印。

pavement n.人行道；铺筑过的地面

例 Heat waves shimmered from the pavement.

热浪从道路上摇曳而起。

fragmentary adj.碎片的；不完整的；不连续的

例 His knowledge of the subject is fragmentary.

他有关这个学科的知识残缺不全。

punishment n.处罚；痛击；损害

例 The boy accepted his punishment without complaining.

男孩没有怨言地接受了惩罚。

记忆本身就模模糊糊，回答不了这些问题。

译___________________________________________________________________

我的父亲是否了解我多么珍视与他在一起的机会，这我不敢断言。

译___________________________________________________________________

爸爸有一种灵活而有趣的谈话方式，很容易使我幼稚的头脑明了一切，让我天真的心灵感到兴奋。

译___________________________________________________________________

I had an unreasonable wish to be always with him.

wish to：希望做某事；盼望

造___________________________________________________________________

I was apt to escape from the nursery and seek the study.

escape from：逃脱；逃离

造___________________________________________________________________