這幾天心裏頗不寧靜。今晚在院子裏坐著乘涼，忽然想起日日走過的荷塘，在這滿月的月光裏，總該另有壹番樣子吧。月亮漸漸地升高了，墻外馬路上孩子們的歡笑，已經聽不見了；妻在屋裏拍著閏兒，迷迷糊糊地哼著眠歌。我悄悄地披了大衫，帶上門出去。 沿著荷塘，是壹條曲折的小煤屑路。這是壹條幽僻的路；白天也少人走，夜晚更加寂寞。荷塘四面，長著許多樹，蓊蓊(wěng)郁郁的。路的壹旁，是些楊柳，和壹些不知道名字的樹。沒有月光的晚上，這路上陰森森的，有些怕人。今晚卻很好，雖然月光也還是淡淡的。 路上只我壹個人，背著手踱著。這壹片天地好像是我的；我也像超出了平常的自己，到了另壹世界裏。我愛熱鬧，也愛冷靜；愛群居，也愛獨處。像今晚上，壹個人在這蒼茫的月下，什麽都可以想，什麽都可以不想，便覺是個自由的人。白天裏壹定要做的事，壹定要說的話，現在都可不理。這是獨處的妙處，我且受用這無邊的荷香月色好了。 曲曲折折的荷塘上面，彌望的是田田的葉子。葉子出水很高，像亭亭的舞女的裙。層層的葉子中間，零星地點綴著些白花，有裊娜(niǎo,nuó)地開著的，有羞澀地打著朵兒的；正如壹粒粒的明珠，又如碧天裏的星星，又如剛出浴的美人。微風過處，送來縷縷清香，仿佛遠處高樓上渺茫的歌聲似的。這時候葉子與花也有壹絲的顫動，像閃電壹般，霎時傳過荷塘的那邊去了。葉子本是肩並肩密密地挨著，這便宛然有了壹道凝碧的波痕。葉子底下是脈脈(mò)的流水，遮住了，不能見壹些顏色；而葉子卻更見風致了。 月光如流水壹般，靜靜地瀉在這壹片葉子和花上。薄薄的青霧浮起在荷塘裏。葉子和花仿佛在牛乳中洗過壹樣；又像籠著輕紗的夢。雖然是滿月，天上卻有壹層淡淡的雲，所以不能朗照；但我以為這恰是到了好處——酣眠固不可少，小睡也別有風味的。月光是隔了樹照過來的，高處叢生的灌木，落下參差的斑駁的黑影，峭楞楞如鬼壹般；彎彎的楊柳的稀疏的倩影，卻又像是畫在荷葉上。塘中的月色並不均勻；但光與影有著和諧的旋律，如梵婀(ē)玲(英語violin小提琴的譯音)上奏著的名曲。 荷塘的四面，遠遠近近，高高低低都是樹，而楊柳最多。這些樹將壹片荷塘重重圍住；只在小路壹旁，漏著幾段空隙，像是特為月光留下的。樹色壹例是陰陰的，乍看像壹團煙霧；但楊柳的豐姿，便在煙霧裏也辨得出。樹梢上隱隱約約的是壹帶遠山，只有些大意罷了。樹縫裏也漏著壹兩點路燈光，沒精打采的，是渴睡人的眼。這時候最熱鬧的，要數樹上的蟬聲與水裏的蛙聲；但熱鬧是他們的，我什麽也沒有。 忽然想起采蓮的事情來了。采蓮是江南的舊俗，似乎很早就有，而六朝時為盛；從詩歌裏可以約略知道。采蓮的是少年的女子，她們是蕩著小船，唱著艷歌去的。采蓮人不用說很多，還有看采蓮的人。那是壹個熱鬧的季節，也是壹個風流的季節。梁元帝《采蓮賦》裏說得好： 於是妖童媛(yuán)女，蕩舟心許；鷁(yì)首徐回，兼傳羽杯；欋(zhào)將移而藻掛，船欲動而萍開。爾其纖腰束素，遷延顧步；夏始春余，葉嫩花初，恐沾裳而淺笑，畏傾船而斂裾(jū)。 可見當時嬉遊的光景了。這真是有趣的事，可惜我們現在早已無福消受了。 於是又記起《西洲曲》裏的句子： 采蓮南塘秋，蓮花過人頭；低頭弄蓮子，蓮子清如水。今晚若有采蓮人，這兒的蓮花也算得“過人頭”了；只不見壹些流水的影子，是不行的。這令我到底惦著江南了。 這樣想著，猛壹擡頭，不覺已是自己的門前；輕輕地推門進去，什麽聲息也沒有，妻已睡熟好久了。編輯本段英文 The last few days have found me very restless. This evening as I sat in the yard to enjoy the cool, it struck me how different the lotus pool I pass every day must look under a full moon. The moon was sailing higher and higher up the heavens, the sound of childish laughter had died away from the lane beyond our wall, and my wife was in the house patting Juner and humming a lullaby to him. I quietly slipped on a long gown, and walked out leaving the door on the latch. A cinder - path winds along by the side of the pool. It is off the beaten track and few pass this way even by day, so at night it is still more quiet. Trees grow thick and bosky all around the pool, with willows and other trees I cannot name by the path. On nights when there is no moon the track is almost terrifyingly dark, but tonight it was quite clear, though the moonlight was pale. Strolling alone down the path, hands behind my back, I felt as if the whole earth and sky were mine and I had stepped outside my usual self into another world. I like both excitement and stillness, under the full moon, I could think of whatever I pleased or of nothing at all, and that gave me a sense of freedom. All daytime duties could be disregarded. That was the advantage of solitude: I could savour to the full that expanse of fragrant lotus and the moonlight. As far as eye could see, the pool with its winding margin was covered with trim leaves, which rose high out of the water like the flared skirts of dancing girls. And starring these tiers of leaves were white lotus flowers, alluringly open or bashfully in bud, like glimmering pearls, stars in an azure sky, or beauties fresh from the bath. The breeze carried past gusts of fragrance, like the strains of a song faintly heard from a far-off tower. And leaves and blossoms trembled slightly, while in a flash the scent was carried away. As the closely serried leaves bent, a tide of opaque emerald could be glimpsed. That was the softly running water beneath, hidden from sight, its colour invisible, though the leaves looked more graceful than ever. Moonlight cascaded like water over the lotus leaves and flowers, and a light blue mist floating up from the pool made them seem washed in milk or caught in a gauzy dream. Though the moon was full, a film of pale clouds in the sky would not allow its rays to shine through brightly; but I felt this was all to the good - though refreshing sleep is indispensable, short naps have a charm all their own. As the moon shone from behind them, the dense trees on the hills threw checkered shadows, dark forms loomed like devils, and the sparse, graceful shadows of willows seemed painted on the lotus leaves. The moonlight on the pool was not uniform, but light and shadow made up a harmonious rhythm like a beautiful tune played on a violin. Far and near, high and low around the pool were trees, most of them willows. These trees had the pool entirely hemmed in, the only small clearings left being those by the path, apparently intended for the moon. All the trees were somber as dense smoke, but among them you could make out the luxuriant willows, while faintly above the tree-tops loomed distant hills - their general outline only. And between the trees appeared one or two street lamps, listless as the eyes of someone drowsy. The liveliest sounds at this hour were the cicadas chirruping on the trees and the frogs croaking in the pool; but this animation was theirs alone, I had no part in it. Then lotus-gathering flashed into my mind. This was an old custom south of the Yangtse, which apparently originated very early and was most popular in the period of the Six Kingdoms,* as we see from the songs of the time. The lotus were picked by girls in small boats, who sang haunting songs as they padded. They turned out in force, we may be sure, and there were spectators too, for that was a cheerful festival and a romantic one. We have a good account of it in a poem by Emperor Yuan of the Liang dynasty called Lotus Gatherers: Deft boys and pretty girls Reach an understanding while boating; Their prows veer slowly, But the winecups pass quickly; Their oars are entangled, As they cut through the duckweed, And girls with slender waists Turn to gaze behind them. Now spring and summer meet, Leaves are tender, flowers fresh; With smiles they protect their silks, Drawing in their skirts, afraid lest the boat upset. There we have a picture of these merry excursions. This must have been a delightful event, and it is a great pity we cannot enjoy it today. I also remember some lines from the poem West Islet: When they gather lotus at Nantang in autumn The lotus blooms are higher than their heads; They stoop to pick lotus seeds, Seeds as translucent as water. If any girls were here now to pick the lotus, the flowers would reach above their heads too -- ah, rippling shadows alone are not enough! I was feeling quite homesick for the south, when I suddenly looked up to discover I had reached my own door. Pushing it softly open and tiptoeing in, I found all quiet inside, and my wife was fast asleep
上一篇:鬧鬼的房子下一篇:間諜為什麽叫007?