自译 契诃夫短篇 玩笑(8)
2023-04-28 来源:百合文库
But then the month of March arrived... the spring sunshine was more kindly.... Our ice-hill turned dark, lost its brilliance and finally melted. We gave up tobogganning. There was nowhere now where poor Nadenka could hear those words, and indeed no one to utter them, since there was no wind and I was going to Petersburg — for long, perhaps for ever.
很快，时间来到了三月……春日的阳光越来越暖和……山坡上的雪由白变黑，终于化了个干净。没法再滑雪了。小雪再也没机会听到那句话了，风停了，我也就要远走他乡——也许去好些日子，也许一去不返。
It happened two days before my departure I was sitting in the dusk in the little garden which was separated from the yard of Nadenka’s house by a high fence with nails in it.... It was still pretty cold, there was still snow by the manure heap, the trees looked dead but there was already the scent of spring and the rooks were cawing loudly as they settled for their night’s rest. I went up to the fence and stood for a long while peeping through a *****. I saw Nadenka come out into the porch and fix a mournful yearning gaze on the sky.... The spring wind was blowing straight into her pale dejected face.... It reminded her of the wind which roared at us on the ice-hill when she heard those four words, and her face became very, very sorrowful, a tear trickled down her cheek, and the poor child held out both arms as though begging the wind to bring her those words once more. And waiting for the wind I said in a low voice:
很快，时间来到了三月……春日的阳光越来越暖和……山坡上的雪由白变黑，终于化了个干净。没法再滑雪了。小雪再也没机会听到那句话了，风停了，我也就要远走他乡——也许去好些日子，也许一去不返。
It happened two days before my departure I was sitting in the dusk in the little garden which was separated from the yard of Nadenka’s house by a high fence with nails in it.... It was still pretty cold, there was still snow by the manure heap, the trees looked dead but there was already the scent of spring and the rooks were cawing loudly as they settled for their night’s rest. I went up to the fence and stood for a long while peeping through a *****. I saw Nadenka come out into the porch and fix a mournful yearning gaze on the sky.... The spring wind was blowing straight into her pale dejected face.... It reminded her of the wind which roared at us on the ice-hill when she heard those four words, and her face became very, very sorrowful, a tear trickled down her cheek, and the poor child held out both arms as though begging the wind to bring her those words once more. And waiting for the wind I said in a low voice:
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