橘香飘飘，情意切切 The Scent of Oranges
文字难度：★★★☆
Death, and the notion of aging, has always hung over me like a heavy cloud. I have sought ways of avoiding the topic. But here I find myself visiting my mother, recently confined to a 1)home. All around me, I hear death 2)hissing through the 3)clang of 4)bedpans and squeals of wheelchairs, through the endless 5)drone of 6)catatonic dining companions. Amid the vacant eyes of childlike faces, the tired bodies 7)draped before the dinner trays, my mother sits facing me. She glances at the gift of oranges I have brought her and nods her approval.
一直以来,“死亡”、“衰老”这些念头就如阴霾一般笼罩在我的头上。我千方百计回避这个话题。然而,此刻,我在探望最近困卧老人院的母亲,再也难以逃避了。在这里,死神在我耳边嘶嘶鸣响——便盆的叮当声,轮椅的刺耳吱嘎声,还有那些紧张兮兮的饭友们没完没了的嗡嗡声。那些老人面带稚气、眼神空洞,疲倦的身躯在碟碟盆盆前像窗帘一样垂着,在他们中间,我母亲与我相对而坐。她瞄了一眼我带来的橘子,向我点头表示满意。
I have come 3,000 miles to be with her, but silence forms a wall between us now. 8)Advanced 9)Parkinson’s has already claimed her voice. Her legs, long withered,10)dangle uselessly. I wheel her into her small room, still 11)stupefied by the disease that chains us both to these white walls away from life.
我从三千英里(约4827公里)以外的地方来看她,但如今沉默却在我们之间筑起了一堵墙。晚期帕金森病已经让她无法开口说话。她萎缩已久的,丧失了一切功能的双腿吊晃着。我把她推到一个小房间里,仍不能相信这病就这样将我们拴在这几堵白墙之内,脱离了生活。
My mother’s eyes are luminous, glistened pearls. Once they flashed 12)indignantly at the thought of being in a nursing home, then accusingly, then 13)beseechingly. Now they simply look at me with 14)resignation. Sometimes they stare into a far off place.
母亲的双眸明亮,如光彩闪亮的珍珠。曾经,一想到住进养老院,她的双眸一开始流露出的是愤怒,然后是指责,再后来是恳求。但如今,她只是顺从地看着我,偶尔,双眼定格在某个遥远的地方。
I watch her helplessly as the minutes tick by. My mind races to fill the space taken up by silence. I think: if only she had been diagnosed earlier, if only I were not so far away. Then hope, not guilt, would be a visitor. I remember the warmth of her back when she carried me, my small arms 15)wrapped around her like a shawl. How, when I was red with fever, she rocked my 16)blistered body until I fell asleep. The hot nights on the rooftops of Kowloon eating watermelon seeds and watching the 17)neon lights twinkling in the streets below. The first days in America when I clung to her like a shadow. The dark times, too, when I 18)cowered in a corner before her 19)wrath. These thoughts I hold onto like photographs in an album, stilled images of the mother I no longer have access to.
时间一分一秒地流逝,我只是无助地看着她。沉默之中,我的脑海里飞快地闪过很多很多的念头。我觉得,如果再早一点诊断的话,如果我住在离她不那么远的地方,那可能还有希望,我感到的就不会是愧疚了。我还记得小时候,她背着我时那背上透出的温暖,而我的小手臂就像围巾一样紧紧地缠着她;我发烧时,全身泛红,她轻轻地摇着我长满疱疹的身体,直到我睡着;在炎夏的晚上,我们在九龙的屋顶天台,嗑着瓜子,看着下面街道上闪烁的霓虹灯。刚到美国的时候,我像影子一样粘着她。还有那些艰难的日子里,面对她的怒火,我在角落瑟瑟缩缩。这些挥之不去的回忆就像相册里的照片一样,将母亲的形象定格,而这些是我在现实生活中无法再目睹到的。
She points a 20)gnarled finger at the orange I left on her table. I peel it carefully, glad to have something to do. A 21)spray of 22)citrus fills the air and her eyes widen like a child anticipating sweets. I hand her a slice, which she grasps unsteadily. She brings it 23)painstakingly to her mouth and sucks with soft 24)smacks. I eat my slice too, squeezing the little 25)beads of juice with my teeth until the flavor bursts over my tongue like a rain shower.
她用粗糙起茧的手指朝我放在她桌上的橘子指了一下。我认真地剥起橘子来,庆幸总算有点事可做了。橘子的汁液喷射而出,香味飘溢在空气中,她睁大了眼睛,就像盼望着糖果的孩童似的。我递给她一瓣橘子,她颤悠悠地接住了。她艰难地把橘子往嘴里送,吸吮起来,吃得有滋有味,发出轻轻的“咂咂”声。我也吃了一片,牙齿碾压过小小的果粒,直到橘子的味道如一场阵雨般洒落在我的舌头上。
Oranges were always around in our house when I grew up. They cleansed the 26)palate after every dinner; topped 27)pomelos on New Year’s 28)altars, were the calling cards of visitors who always brought the fruit as a gift to the host. To me they were heavy sacks of obligation during holidays and weekends, when my mother and I 29)wended our way through 30)tenement buildings to visit fellow immigrants from China. The tables were 31)littered with 32)melon seeds and orange 33)peels as I waited impatiently while my mother and her friends chatted; conversations I found hard to relate to, preferring instead to bury my head in a 34)Nancy Drew book while they reminisced about the old village.
从小,橘子在家里就是无处不在的。它们是每次饭后净化口气的好东西,新年的时候它们被堆在柚子上面,摆放在神台上,对总喜欢带上这水果给主人家的客人来说,橘子就是他们的名片。而对我来说,它们是我和母亲在节假日时的一袋袋沉重负担——我和母亲会走街串巷,穿过出租屋去拜访那些大陆移民同乡。还记得那样的情形:桌上散落着瓜子和橘子皮,母亲和她的朋友们聊着天,我则不耐烦地等待着;他们聊的是我无法理解的事,在他们缅怀村庄旧事的时候,我更愿意埋头看我的《南茜·珠尔》系列侦探小说。
Now this bright leather-skinned fruit is the only bridge between us. We eagerly suck the memories the 35)piquant flavor evokes. The 36)tart 37)vapors tickle our nostrils. I can see from my mother’s 38)twitch of a smile that she remembers, too. She chews slowly, savoring each bite, as if the thoughts will fade away as soon as the orange is eaten and more slices of her life will peel away.
如今,这颜色鲜艳,外皮厚厚的水果成了我们之间唯一的桥梁。我们迫切地吸取这刺激气味所激起的回忆。那酸酸的气味搔挠着我们的鼻孔。从母亲那抽搐的一笑,我知道她也还记得那些时光。她慢慢地咀嚼,品味着每一口,仿佛记忆会随着被吃掉的橘子消逝,她的生命也会被瓣瓣撕落。
We finish the whole orange. She 39)belches in satisfaction. I wipe her chin; then we sit and gaze at each other. There are so many words that will never get spoken; dreams that will stay unfulfilled; regrets that are etched in our skins like 40)birthmarks. But in this moment it does not matter what I want her to be, what she used to be, or what I fear she is becoming. There is only the room, the faint scent of oranges, and us, breathing in unison. We sit and breathe together. In this moment is the whole of our lives.
我们吃完了整个橘子,她满足地打着饱嗝。我擦了擦她的下巴,然后我们又坐着,凝视着对方。千言万语未能说,许多的梦想也未及实现;遗憾就像胎记一样刻在我们的皮肤上。然而,在这个时刻,我希望她成为什么样的人,她过去是什么样的人,或者是我害怕她会变成什么样的人,这一切一切都已经不重要了。在这个房间里,只有那淡淡的橘香,而我们母女俩一同呼吸着这香味。我们就这样坐着,一同呼吸着。这一刻就是我们生活的全部。
