自译 契诃夫短篇小说 谎言(2)
2023-04-28 来源:百合文库
“还活个什么劲。”万紫英的声音颤抖着，“他是我的命，我的命根子。要是他真的…走了，我在这世上也没盼头了。我死了算了。”
Wringing her hands, Olga Ivanovna walked from one window to the other and went on:
万紫英两手紧扣，又走到另一扇窗前，继续道：
“When he was born, I wanted to send him away to the Foundling Hospital, you remember that, but, my God, how can that time be compared with now? Then I was vulgar, stupid, feather-headed, but now I am a mother, do you understand? I am a mother, and that’s all I care to know. Between the present and the past there is an impassable gulf.”
“你还记得吧，阳阳刚生下来的时候我还想把他送去孤儿所，唉，今非昔比啊。那时候我就是个傻丫头，可现在我是当妈的人了，你明白吗？我是他妈妈，他就是我的命。现在不是从前了。”
Silence followed again. The doctor shifted his seat from the chair to the sofa and impatiently playing with his hat, kept his eyes fixed upon Olga Ivanovna. From his face it could be seen that he wanted to speak, and was waiting for a fitting moment.
沉默重临。叶大夫换了个座位，焦急地摆弄着帽子，一刻不停地望着紫英。看得出他有话想说，只是在等待时机。
“You are silent, but still I do not give up hope,” said the lady, turning round. “Why are you silent?”
“你怎么不说话。没事，我不会死心的。”万紫英转过身，说道，“你说句话啊。”
“I should be as glad of any hope as you, Olga, but there is none,” Tsvyetkov answered, “we must look the hideous truth in the face. The boy has a tumour on the brain, and we must try to prepare ourselves for his death, for such cases never recover.”
Wringing her hands, Olga Ivanovna walked from one window to the other and went on:
万紫英两手紧扣，又走到另一扇窗前，继续道：
“When he was born, I wanted to send him away to the Foundling Hospital, you remember that, but, my God, how can that time be compared with now? Then I was vulgar, stupid, feather-headed, but now I am a mother, do you understand? I am a mother, and that’s all I care to know. Between the present and the past there is an impassable gulf.”
“你还记得吧，阳阳刚生下来的时候我还想把他送去孤儿所，唉，今非昔比啊。那时候我就是个傻丫头，可现在我是当妈的人了，你明白吗？我是他妈妈，他就是我的命。现在不是从前了。”
Silence followed again. The doctor shifted his seat from the chair to the sofa and impatiently playing with his hat, kept his eyes fixed upon Olga Ivanovna. From his face it could be seen that he wanted to speak, and was waiting for a fitting moment.
沉默重临。叶大夫换了个座位，焦急地摆弄着帽子，一刻不停地望着紫英。看得出他有话想说，只是在等待时机。
“You are silent, but still I do not give up hope,” said the lady, turning round. “Why are you silent?”
“你怎么不说话。没事，我不会死心的。”万紫英转过身，说道，“你说句话啊。”
“I should be as glad of any hope as you, Olga, but there is none,” Tsvyetkov answered, “we must look the hideous truth in the face. The boy has a tumour on the brain, and we must try to prepare ourselves for his death, for such cases never recover.”
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