爱伦·坡，《影子》 （SHADOW. — A PARABLE.）

                
                
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Yea! though I walk through the valley of the Shadow: — Psalm of David.
YE who read are still among the living: but I who write shall have long since gone my way into the region of shadows. For indeed strange things shall happen, and secret things be known, and many centuries shall pass away, ere these memorials be seen of men. And, when seen, there will be some to disbelieve, and some to doubt, and yet a few who will find much to ponder upon in the characters here graven with a stylus of iron.
The year had been a year of terror, and of feelings more intense than terror for which there is no name upon the earth. For many prodigies and signs had taken place, and far and wide, over sea and land, the black wings of the Pestilence were spread abroad. To those, nevertheless, cunning in the stars, it was not unknown that the heavens wore an aspect of ill; and to me, the Greek Oinos, among others, it was evident that now had arrived the alternation of that seven hundred and ninety-fourth year when, at the entrance of Aries, the planet Jupiter is conjoined with the red ring of the terrible Saturnus. The peculiar spirit of the skies, if I mistake not greatly, made itself manifest, not only in the physical orb of the earth, but in the souls, imaginations, and meditations of mankind.
Over some flasks of the red Chian wine, within the walls of a noble hall, in a dim city called Ptolemais, we sat, at night, a company of seven. And to our chamber there was no entrance save by a lofty door of brass: and the door was fashioned by the artisan Corinnos, and, being of rare workmanship, was fastened from [page 293:] within. Black draperies, likewise, in the gloomy room, shut out from our view the moon, the lurid stars, and the peopleless streets — but the boding and the memory of Evil, they would not be so excluded. There were things around us and about of which I can render no distinct account — things material and spiritual — heaviness in the atmosphere — a sense of suffocation — anxiety — and, above all, that terrible state of existence which the nervous experience when the senses are keenly living and awake, and meanwhile the powers of thought lie dormant. A dead weight hung upon us. It hung upon our limbs — upon the household furniture — upon the goblets from which we drank; and all things were depressed, and borne down thereby — all things save only the flames of the seven iron lamps which illumined our revel. Uprearing themselves in tall slender lines of light, they thus remained burning all pallid and motionless; and in the mirror which their lustre formed upon the round table of ebony at which we sat, each of us there assembled beheld the pallor of his own countenance, and the unquiet glare in the downcast eyes of his companions. Yet we laughed and were merry in our proper way — which was hysterical; and sang the songs of Anacreon — which are madness; and drank deeply — although the purple wine reminded us of blood. For there was yet another tenant of our chamber in the person of young Zoilus. Dead, and at full length he lay, enshrouded; — the genius and the demon of the scene. Alas! he bore no portion in our mirth, save that his countenance, distorted with the plague, and his eyes in which Death had but half extinguished the fire of the pestilence, seemed to take such interest in our merriment as the dead may haply take in the merriment of those who are to die. But although I, Oinos, felt that the eyes of the departed were upon me, still I forced myself not to perceive the bitterness of their expression, and, gazing down steadily into the depths of the ebony mirror, sang with a loud and sonorous voice the songs of the son of Teios. But gradually my songs they ceased, and their echoes, rolling afar off among the sable draperies of the chamber, became weak, and undistinguishable, and so faded away. And lo! from among those sable draperies where the sounds of the song departed, there came forth a dark and undefined shadow — a shadow such as the moon, when low in heaven, might fashion [page 294:] from the figure of a man: but it was the shadow neither of man nor of God, nor of any familiar thing. And quivering awhile among the draperies of the room, it at length rested in full view upon the surface of the door of brass. But the shadow was vague, and formless, and indefinite, and was the shadow neither of man nor God — neither God of Greece, nor God of Chaldæa, nor any Egyptian God. And the shadow rested upon the brazen doorway, and under the arch of the entablature of the door, and moved not, nor spoke any word, but there became stationary and remained. And the door whereupon the shadow rested was, if I remember aright, over against the feet of the young Zoilus enshrouded. But we, the seven there assembled, having seen the shadow as it came out from among the draperies, dared not steadily behold it, but cast down our eyes, and gazed continually into the depths of the mirror of ebony. And at length I, Oinos, speaking some low words, demanded of the shadow its dwelling and its appellation. And the shadow answered, “I am SHADOW, and my dwelling is near to the Catacombs of Ptolemais, and hard by those dim plains of Helusion which border upon the foul Charonian canal.” And then did we, the seven, start from our seats in horror, and stand trembling, and shuddering, and aghast: for the tones in the voice of the shadow were not the tones of any one being, but of a multitude of beings, and, varying in their cadences from syllable to syllable, fell duskily upon our ears in the well remembered and familiar accents of many thousand departed friends.
    读这则寓言的你还活在世上，而写这则寓言的我恐怕已去了那亡灵之乡。因为在这些记录被世人读到之前，奇异的事情将会发生，神秘的事情将被知晓，许多个世纪将会过去。而在这些记载被读之时，有些人会不信，有些人会怀疑，但有少数人会用铁笔镌刻的字符中发现许多引人深思的东西。
     那是一个恐怖之年，人们心里充满了一种这个世上还没有字眼可形容的比恐怖还恐怖的感情。因为许多奇征异兆相继出现，普天之下，从海洋到陆地，都被时疫黑色的翅膀所覆盖。然而，对于那些精通星象的人来说，并非不知道这是天象显出了凶兆；对他们中的我，希腊人奥伊洛斯来说，这显然是木星在白羊宫入口处与可怕的土星那道红色光环交接，七百九十四年的那场大更迭已经来临。如果我没有完全弄错的话，那种奇特的天意不仅显现在地球的自然轨道中，也显现在人类的精神、想象和沉思冥想之中。
       一天晚上，在一座名叫普托勒墨斯幽幽城中，在一个宏伟大厅的四壁之内，围着一些用长颈瓶装的中国红酒，我们七个人坐在一起。除了一道巍峨的黄铜大门，我们这个房间没别的入口；那道大门由工匠科里乌诺斯铸成，稀罕的是那门只能从里边开闭。那阴暗房间的黑色帷幔，使我们看不见苍白的月亮和星星，也看不见窗外无人的街甬——但却挡不住那不祥之兆，也无法逐出我们对灾祸的记忆。我现在已不能清晰地描述当时的情景——无论是物质上的存在还是精神上的实感——除了气氛的压抑、窒息的感觉和如焚的忧虑，我记得最清楚的就是在意识清醒而敏锐但思维能力却沉睡不醒之时神经所经历的那种对生存的恐惧。一种死亡的压迫缠住我们不放。它缠住我们的四肢，缠住室内的摆设，也缠住我们喝酒的那些酒杯；所有的一切都被缠住，所有的一切都被压倒——只除了那七团照亮我们酒宴的七盏铁灯的火焰。七盏灯的火苗都又细又长，火苗暗淡而且一动不动。灯光在我们围坐的那张黑檀圆桌上形成了一面镜子，从那面镜子中，我们每个人都看见了自己脸色的苍白，看见了同伴眼中的萎靡不振和焦灼不安。然而，我们仍歇斯底里地纵声大笑纵情作乐，疯疯癫癫地吟唱阿那克里翁咏赞酒色的琴歌；虽然紫色的酒浆让我们想到鲜血，但我们依然狂饮高歌。因为我们屋里还有另一闪叫做小索伊勒斯的房客。他在裹着尸衣直挺挺地躺在一旁——好像是那个场景的守护神。唉！他分享不到我们的快乐，只是他那张被瘟疫扭歪的脸和那双只被死神熄灭了一半瘟疫火焰的眼睛似乎正对我们的狂欢感兴趣。但是，虽然我感到死者的眼睛正盯着我，但我仍然强迫自己不去理会那眼跳的痛苦，而是凝视着镜子般的黑檀桌面，用宏亮的声音高唱泰斯之子的那些琴歌。但渐渐地，我的歌声停止了，那屋里黑色帷幔间萦绕的回声也越来越弱，最后终于完全消逝。瞧！就从歌声消逝的那些黑色的帷幔之中，走出一个模模糊糊、飘忽不定的影子——就像月亮刚刚升起时可能映出的人的影子；但它既不是人影，也不是神影，也不是任何我们所熟悉的东西的影子。它在黑色的帷幔间哆嗦了一会儿，最后终于在黄铜大门的表面上附定。但那影子仍若明若暗，虚无缥缈，毫不成形；既不像人也不像神——不像希腊的神，不像迦勒底的神，也不像埃及的任何神。那影子就附在门拱下的黄铜门上，一动不动，一声不吭，完全静止。如果我没记错，影子所依附的门正对着裹着尸衣的小索伊勒斯的双脚。但自从那影子从帷幔间飘出之后，我们七个人都没有正眼看过它一眼，而是垂下目光久久盯着那面黑檀木镜。最后我嗫嚅着问那影子姓甚名谁，居住何方。影子回答，“我叫死荫，居住在这普托勒斯城地下墓窑附近，就在Helusion那混沌的旷野旁边，紧挨着那条肮脏的冥河。”这下就把我们七个人都吓得从文化合作上一跃而起，一个个战战兢兢直打哆嗦；因为那影子的声音所包含的不是一个的声调，而是许许多多人的声调，它说话时每发出一个音节就变换一种声调，这些声调阴沉沉地钻进我们的耳朵，使我们回忆起成千上万死去的朋友们那熟悉的口音。
译文转自网络，标题【死荫——寓言一则】