［翻译］伍尔夫――Time Passes（Chapter 4）

Chapter 4

So with the house empty and the doors locked and the mattresses rolled round, those stray airs, advance guards of great armies, blustered in, brushed bare boards, nibbled and fanned, met nothing in bedroom or drawing-room that wholly resisted them but only hangings that flapped, wood that creaked, the bare legs of tables, saucepans and china already furred, tarnished, cracked. What people had shed and left—a pair of shoes, a shooting cap, some faded skirts and coats in wardrobes—those alone kept the human shape and in the emptiness indicated how once they were filled and animated; how once hands were busy with hooks and buttons; how once the looking-glass had held a face; had held a world hollowed out in which a figure turned, a hand flashed, the door opened, in came children rushing and tumbling; and went out again. Now, day after day, light turned, like a flower reflected in water, its sharp image on the wall opposite. Only the shadows of the trees, flourishing in the wind, made obeisance on the wall, and for a moment darkened the pool in which light reflected itself; or birds, flying, made a soft spot flutter slowly across the bedroom floor.

房子空了，门都上了锁，地毯也都卷了起来。这些走散的微风是一支英勇军队的前锋。它们喧嚷着闯进来，掠过光秃秃的板壁，到处轻咬，到处吹拂。在卧室和客厅里没有遇到任何东西在全力抗拒着它们。在那里只剩下帘子的拂动声和地板的嘎吱声，而餐桌裸露的桌腿，盘子和瓷器早已蒙上厚厚的灰，显得暗淡无光，迹象破败。人抛弃和遗留的只有――一双鞋子，一顶猎帽，和衣柜里一些褪色的短裙外套――只有这些还留有人的痕迹，表明现时空虚的房子也曾充满人的气息。它们诉说着曾经在挂钩和纽扣间忙活的双手; 镜子怎样照见一张面容；怎样照见一个空幻的世界――那里有人转身，有人挥手，有在门打开后跌跌撞撞跑进来的孩子，之后又都出去了。现在，灯光随着日子在墙上变幻出轮廓分明的意象，就像映照在水里的花朵。树的阴影在风中摇曳，对墙致礼，偶尔也遮暗水光潋滟的池塘。鸟儿呢，在飞。它们圆点似的影子在卧室地板上缓缓掠过。

So loveliness reigned and stillness, and together made the shape of loveliness itself, a form from which life had parted; solitary like a pool at evening, far distant, seen from a train window, vanishing so quickly that the pool, pale in the evening, is scarcely robbed of its solitude, though once seen. Loveliness and stillness clasped hands in the bedroom, and among the shrouded jugs and sheeted chairs even the prying of the wind, and the soft nose of the clammy sea airs, rubbing, snuffling, iterating, and reiterating their questions—"Will you fade? Will you perish?"—scarcely disturbed the peace, the indifference, the air of pure integrity, as if the question they asked scarcely needed that they should answer: we remain.

就这样，优美和寂静统治着一切。它们俩又共同变化出优美本身的模样――一个生活已经与之告别的模样――像从火车窗边看到夜色笼罩下的一塘水――寂寞、遥远。但很快又从视线里消失。它在一片黑暗里显得惨白，即使有人看见它，也难解它的孤独。优美和寂静在卧室里携手，穿梭在被布覆盖的水罐和椅子间，甚至风儿也在此间窥探。粘湿冰凉的海风用它柔软的鼻子到处挨擦、闻嗅，不断重复着它们的问题――“你们会消逝吗？你们会毁灭吗？”几乎没有扰到这份寂静，冷漠，纯洁。似乎它们提出的问题几乎不需要这个回答：我们依然存在。

Nothing it seemed could break that image, corrupt that innocence, or disturb the swaying mantle of silence which, week after week, in the empty room, wove into itself the falling cries of birds, ships hooting, the drone and hum of the fields, a dog's bark, a man's shout, and folded them round the house in silence. Once only a board sprang on the landing; once in the middle of the night with a roar, with a rupture, as after centuries of quiescence, a rock rends itself from the mountain and hurtles crashing into the valley, one fold of the shawl loosened and swung to and fro. Then again peace descended; and the shadow wavered; light bent to its own image in adoration on the bedroom wall; and Mrs McNab, tearing the veil of silence with hands that had stood in the wash-tub, grinding it with boots that had crunched the shingle, came as directed to open all windows, and dust the bedrooms.

似乎没有什么能打破这份意象，腐蚀这份纯真，打搅这份寂静。一周又一周，在这空房子里，占绝对统治力的寂静把鸟儿渐喑的叫声、轮船的汽笛声、原野上的嗡嗡声、狗吠声和人叫声统统织进自己的斗篷，再悄悄地折叠，包裹在房子四周。只有一次，在午夜时分，一块木板大吼一声，断裂下来，落到楼梯平台上，好像经过几个世纪的沉寂，一块岩石从上体分离，冲到山谷里，把自己摔得粉碎。于是围绕房子的纱巾这才松开一角，在空中前后飘摆。随后寂静再次降临，到处阴影婆娑。灯光恋着自己投在卧室墙上的阴影，对它鞠躬致敬。管家麦克纳布夫人在水槽边忙活的双手正撕裂着寂静的面纱；卵石路上靴子的哒哒声也在消磨这份寂静。她受了嘱托，来打开所有窗户，掸去卧室的灰尘。