刘正逐句对译 《Jacob\'s Room by Virginia Woolf》及笔记

2018年精读吴尔芙作品，刘正逐句对译

《Jacob's Room by Virginia Woolf》及笔记

（校勘和学习王家湘、蒲隆二译本之正误）

 

Chapter One

第一章

 

每章笔记分作者英文原文、刘正中文翻译、刘正中英逐句对译文和翻译对比（校勘和学习王家湘、蒲隆二译本之正误）三部分组成。其中，第一章全部耗费时间是两周/每天五小时。

A、作者英文全文

 

"So of course," wrote Betty Flanders, pressing her heels rather deeper in the sand, "there was nothing for it but to leave."

Slowly welling from the point of her gold nib, pale blue ink dissolved the full stop；for there her pen stuck；her eyes fixed, and tears slowly filled them. The entire bay quivered；the lighthouse wobbled；and she had the illusion that the mast of Mr. Connor's little yacht was bending like a wax candle in the sun. She winked quickly. Accidents were awful things. She winked again. The mast was straight；the waves were regular；the lighthouse was upright；but the blot had spread.

"……nothing for it but to leave," she read.

"Well, if Jacob doesn't want to play" (the shadow of Archer, her eldest son, fell across the notepaper and looked blue on the sand, and she felt chilly—it was the third of September already), "if Jacob doesn't want to play"—what a horrid blot! It must be getting late.

"Where IS that tiresome little boy?" she said. "I don't see him. Run and find him. Tell him to come at once." "……but mercifully," she scribbled, ignoring the full stop, "everything seems satisfactorily arranged, packed though we are like herrings in a barrel, and forced to stand the perambulator which the landlady quite naturally won't allow……"

Such were Betty Flanders's letters to Captain Barfoot—many-paged, tear-stained. Scarborough is seven hundred miles from Cornwall: Captain Barfoot is in Scarborough: Seabrook is dead. Tears made all the dahlias in her garden undulate in red waves and flashed the glass house in her eyes, and spangled the kitchen with bright knives, and made Mrs. Jarvis, the rector's wife, think at church, while the hymn-tune played and Mrs. Flanders bent low over her little boys' heads, that marriage is a fortress and widows stray solitary in the open fields, picking up stones, gleaning a few golden straws, lonely, unprotected, poor creatures. Mrs. Flanders had been a widow for these two years.

"Ja—cob! Ja—cob!" Archer shouted.

"Scarborough," Mrs. Flanders wrote on the envelope, and dashed a bold line beneath；it was her native town；the hub of the universe. But a stamp? She ferreted in her bag；then held it up mouth downwards；then fumbled in her lap, all so vigorously that Charles Steele in the Panama hat suspended his paint-brush.

Like the antennae of some irritable insect it positively trembled. Here was that woman moving—actually going to get up—confound her! He struck the canvas a hasty violet-black dab. For the landscape needed it. It was too pale—greys flowing into lavenders, and one star or a white gull suspended just so—too pale as usual. The critics would say it was too pale, for he was an unknown man exhibiting obscurely, a favourite with his landladies' children, wearing a cross on his watch chain, and much gratified if his landladies liked his pictures—which they often did.

"Ja—cob! Ja—cob!" Archer shouted.

Exasperated by the noise, yet loving children, Steele picked nervously at the dark little coils on his palette.

"I saw your brother—I saw your brother," he said, nodding his head, as Archer lagged past him, trailing his spade, and scowling at the old gentleman in spectacles.

"Over there—by the rock," Steele muttered, with his brush between his teeth, squeezing out raw sienna, and keeping his eyes fixed on Betty Flanders's back.

"Ja—cob! Ja—cob!" shouted Archer, lagging on after a second.

The voice had an extraordinary sadness. Pure from all body, pure from all passion, going out into the world, solitary, unanswered, breaking against rocks—so it sounded.

Steele frowned；but was pleased by the effect of the black—it was just THAT note which brought the rest together. "Ah, one may learn to paint at fifty! There's Titian…" and so, having found the right tint, up he looked and saw to his horror a cloud over the bay.

Mrs. Flanders rose, slapped her coat this side and that to get the sand off, and picked up her black parasol.

The rock was one of those tremendously solid brown, or rather black, rocks which emerge from the sand like something primitive. Rough with crinkled limpet shells and sparsely strewn with locks of dry seaweed, a small boy has to stretch his legs far apart, and indeed to feel rather heroic, before he gets to the top.

But there, on the very top, is a hollow full of water, with a sandy bottom；with a blob of jelly stuck to the side, and some mussels. A fish darts across. The fringe of yellow-brown seaweed flutters, and out pushes an opal-shelled crab—

"Oh, a huge crab," Jacob murmured—and begins his journey on weakly legs on the sandy bottom. Now! Jacob plunged his hand. The crab was cool and very light. But the water was thick with sand, and so, scrambling down, Jacob was about to jump, holding his bucket in front of him, when he saw, stretched entirely rigid, side by side, their faces very red, an enormous man and woman.

An enormous man and woman (it was early-closing day) were stretched motionless, with their heads on pocket-handkerchiefs, side by side, within a few feet of the sea, while two or three gulls gracefully skirted the incoming waves, and settled near their boots.

The large red faces lying on the bandanna handkerchiefs stared up at Jacob. Jacob stared down at them. Holding his bucket very carefully, Jacob then jumped deliberately and trotted away very nonchalantly at first, but faster and faster as the waves came creaming up to him and he had to swerve to avoid them, and the gulls rose in front of him and floated out and settled again a little farther on. A large black woman was sitting on the sand. He ran towards her.

"Nanny! Nanny!" he cried, sobbing the words out on the crest of each gasping breath.

The waves came round her. She was a rock. She was covered with the seaweed which pops when it is pressed. He was lost.

There he stood. His face composed itself. He was about to roar when, lying among the black sticks and straw under the cliff, he saw a whole skull—perhaps a cow's skull, a skull, perhaps, with the teeth in it. Sobbing, but absent-mindedly, he ran farther and farther away until he held the skull in his arms.

"There he is!" cried Mrs. Flanders, coming round the rock and covering the whole space of the beach in a few seconds. "What has he got hold of? Put it down, Jacob! Drop it this moment! Something horrid, I know. Why didn't you stay with us? Naughty little boy! Now put it down. Now come along both of you," and she swept round, holding Archer by one hand and fumbling for Jacob's arm with the other. But he ducked down and picked up the sheep's jaw, which was loose.

Swinging her bag, clutching her parasol, holding Archer's hand, and telling the story of the gunpowder explosion in which poor Mr. Curnow had lost his eye, Mrs. Flanders hurried up the steep lane, aware all the time in the depths of her mind of some buried discomfort.

There on the sand not far from the lovers lay the old sheep's skull without its jaw. Clean, white, wind-swept, sand-rubbed, a more unpolluted piece of bone existed nowhere on the coast of Cornwall. The sea holly would grow through the eye-sockets；it would turn to powder, or some golfer, hitting his ball one fine day, would disperse a little dust—No, but not in lodgings, thought Mrs. Flanders. It's a great experiment coming so far with young children. There's no man to help with the perambulator. And Jacob is such a handful；so obstinate already.

"Throw it away, dear, do," she said, as they got into the road；but Jacob squirmed away from her；and the wind rising, she took out her bonnet-pin, looked at the sea, and stuck it in afresh. The wind was rising. The waves showed that uneasiness, like something alive, restive, expecting the whip, of waves before a storm. The fishing-boats were leaning to the water's brim. A pale yellow light shot across the purple sea；and shut. The lighthouse was lit. "Come along," said Betty Flanders. The sun blazed in their faces and gilded the great blackberries trembling out from the hedge which Archer tried to strip as they passed.

"Don't lag, boys. You've got nothing to change into," said Betty, pulling them along, and looking with uneasy emotion at the earth displayed so luridly, with sudden sparks of light from greenhouses in gardens, with a sort of yellow and black mutability, against this blazing sunset, this astonishing agitation and vitality of colour, which stirred Betty Flanders and made her think of responsibility and danger. She gripped Archer's hand. On she plodded up the hill.

"What did I ask you to remember?" she said.

"I don't know," said Archer.

"Well, I don't know either," said Betty, humorously and simply, and who shall deny that this blankness of mind, when combined with profusion, mother wit, old wives' tales, haphazard ways, moments of astonishing daring, humour, and sentimentality—who shall deny that in these respects every woman is nicer than any man?

Well, Betty Flanders, to begin with.

She had her hand upon the garden gate.

"The meat!" she exclaimed, striking the latch down.

She had forgotten the meat.

There was Rebecca at the window.

The bareness of Mrs. Pearce's front room was fully displayed at ten o'clock at night when a powerful oil lamp stood on the middle of the table. The harsh light fell on the garden；cut straight across the lawn；lit up a child's bucket and a purple aster and reached the hedge. Mrs. Flanders had left her sewing on the table. There were her large reels of white cotton and her steel spectacles；her needle-case；her brown wool wound round an old postcard. There were the bulrushes and the Strand magazines；and the linoleum sandy from the boys' boots. A daddy-long-legs shot from corner to corner and hit the lamp globe. The wind blew straight dashes of rain across the window, which flashed silver as they passed through the light. A single leaf tapped hurriedly, persistently, upon the glass. There was a hurricane out at sea.

Archer could not sleep.

Mrs. Flanders stooped over him. "Think of the fairies," said Betty Flanders. "Think of the lovely, lovely birds settling down on their nests. Now shut your eyes and see the old mother bird with a worm in her beak. Now turn and shut your eyes," she murmured, "and shut your eyes."

The lodging-house seemed full of gurgling and rushing；the cistern overflowing；water bubbling and squeaking and running along the pipes and streaming down the windows.

"What's all that water rushing in?" murmured Archer.

"It's only the bath water running away," said Mrs. Flanders.

Something snapped out of doors.

"I say, won't that steamer sink?" said Archer, opening his eyes.

"Of course it won't," said Mrs. Flanders. "The Captain's in bed long ago. Shut your eyes, and think of the fairies, fast asleep, under the flowers."

"I thought he'd never get off—such a hurricane," she whispered to
Rebecca, who was bending over a spirit-lamp in the small room next door.
The wind rushed outside, but the small flame of the spirit-lamp burnt
quietly, shaded from the cot by a book stood on edge.

"Did he take his bottle well?" Mrs. Flanders whispered, and Rebecca nodded and went to the cot and turned down the quilt, and Mrs. Flanders bent over and looked anxiously at the baby, asleep, but frowning. The window shook, and Rebecca stole like a cat and wedged it.

The two women murmured over the spirit-lamp, plotting the eternal conspiracy of hush and clean bottles while the wind raged and gave a sudden wrench at the cheap fastenings.

Both looked round at the cot. Their lips were pursed. Mrs. Flanders crossed over to the cot.

"Asleep?" whispered Rebecca, looking at the cot.

Mrs. Flanders nodded.

"Good-night, Rebecca," Mrs. Flanders murmured, and Rebecca called her ma'm, though they were conspirators plotting the eternal conspiracy of hush and clean bottles.

Mrs. Flanders had left the lamp burning in the front room. There were her spectacles, her sewing；and a letter with the Scarborough postmark. She had not drawn the curtains either.

The light blazed out across the patch of grass；fell on the child's green bucket with the gold line round it, and upon the aster which trembled violently beside it. For the wind was tearing across the coast, hurling itself at the hills, and leaping, in sudden gusts, on top of its own back. How it spread over the town in the hollow! How the lights seemed to wink and quiver in its fury, lights in the harbour, lights in bedroom windows high up! And rolling dark waves before it, it raced over the Atlantic, jerking the stars above the ships this way and that.

There was a click in the front sitting-room. Mr. Pearce had extinguished the lamp. The garden went out. It was but a dark patch. Every inch was rained upon. Every blade of grass was bent by rain. Eyelids would have been fastened down by the rain. Lying on one's back one would have seen nothing but muddle and confusion—clouds turning and turning, and something yellow-tinted and sulphurous in the darkness.

The little boys in the front bedroom had thrown off their blankets and lay under the sheets. It was hot；rather sticky and steamy. Archer lay spread out, with one arm striking across the pillow. He was flushed；and when the heavy curtain blew out a little he turned and half-opened his eyes. The wind actually stirred the cloth on the chest of drawers, and let in a little light, so that the sharp edge of the chest of drawers was visible, running straight up, until a white shape bulged out；and a silver streak showed in the looking-glass.

In the other bed by the door Jacob lay asleep, fast asleep, profoundly unconscious. The sheep's jaw with the big yellow teeth in it lay at his feet. He had kicked it against the iron bed-rail.

Outside the rain poured down more directly and powerfully as the wind fell in the early hours of the morning. The aster was beaten to the earth. The child's bucket was half-full of rainwater；and the opal-shelled crab slowly circled round the bottom, trying with its weakly legs to climb the steep side；trying again and falling back, and trying again and again.

 

B、刘正中文翻译

 

“所以，当然。”贝蒂·弗兰德斯写道，把她的鞋跟在沙里压得更深。“没有任何值得留恋了，只好离开。”

从她的金笔尖的尖端缓缓地涌出，淡蓝色的墨水溶化了句号；因为她的笔被纸卡住了；她的眼睛出神看着，眼泪慢慢充满了双眼。整个海湾颤抖起来；灯塔摇晃着；她幻想着康纳先生小游艇的桅杆在阳光下像蜡烛一样在弯曲着。她快速地眨了眨眼。事故是件可怕的事情。她又眨了眨眼。桅杆是笔直的；波浪也是规律的；连灯塔也是直立的；但是墨渍却已经蔓延。“……没有任何值得留恋了，只好离开。”她念着。

“好吧，如果雅各不想玩的话。”阿切尔的影子，她的长子，倒映在落在沙滩的信纸上并泛着蓝色。她觉得很冷了——这已经是九月三号了。“如果雅各不想玩。”——多么可怕的污点！一定要晚了。

“那个讨厌的小孩子在哪里？”她说。

“我没看见他。跑去快找到他。叫他马上过来。”“……但是幸运的是”，她潦草地写着，忽略了那个句号，“一切似乎令人满意地安排好了，尽管我们拥挤得像桶里的鲱鱼一样，并且被迫竖着放置那童车，女房东那里很自然地不会允许……

正如贝蒂·弗兰德斯写给巴尔富特上尉的信——很多页面，都被沾满了泪痕。

斯卡伯勒距离康沃尔七百英里：巴尔富特上尉在斯卡伯勒：西布鲁克已经死了。眼泪使她的花园里所有的大丽花在红色浪花中起伏着，并在她的眼睛里闪耀着玻璃温室，鲜亮的刀子把厨房装饰得闪烁发光，并让贾维斯夫人，那个教区校长的妻子，当赞美诗的曲调奏起时，弗兰德夫人低头看着她小孩子的头，在教堂里思考：婚姻是一个堡垒，而寡妇们孤零零地在开放的旷野上流浪着，偶尔拾起石头，或者拾起几根金色的秸秆，显得那么孤独的，没有保护的，而又可怜的生物。弗兰德斯夫人成为寡妇已经两年了。

“雅各！雅各！”阿切尔喊道。

“斯卡伯勒，”弗兰德斯夫人在信封上写道，划了一道粗线在下面。这是她的家乡；宇宙的中心。可邮票呢？她在她的包里搜着；然后她把书包开口向下拿着；然后在她的膝盖上摸索着倒出来的东西，一切如此地忙乱。

戴着巴拿马帽子的查尔斯·斯蒂尔把他的画笔停在半空中。就像一些易怒的昆虫的触角一样，那把画笔在明确地抖动着。这里那个女人正在移动着——实际上想站起来——是动还是站让她感到困惑！他点击着画布草率地画了紫黑色的一块,为了景观需要它。太平淡了——灰色夹杂着淡紫色，一颗星或一只白色的鸥就这样的悬着——通常过于平淡。批评家们会说这太平淡了，因为他是一个无名之辈，展出自然不引人关注。在他的手表链上戴着十字架，那是他那女房东的孩子们最喜欢的东西。如果他的女房东喜欢他的画——他们经常这样做，那他将很满意。

“雅各！雅各！”阿切尔喊道。

虽然被孩子们的噪音所激怒，但是他还是爱着孩子们。斯蒂尔紧张地抓着他的调色板上的黑色小卷。

“我看见了你的兄弟——我看见你的兄弟了，”他点点头，说着，当阿切尔从他身后蹒跚而过，拖着他的锹，穿过眼镜怒视着那位老先生。

“在那边—在石头上，”斯蒂尔嘀咕着，用他的牙齿咬着花笔，挤出生的赭色颜料，并持续地将他的目光盯在贝蒂·弗兰德斯的背上。

“雅各！雅各！”阿切尔叫着，落后了一秒钟之后。声音显得非常地悲哀，来自全身的纯洁、全部热情的纯洁，传到了外界之中，但是却显得孤独、没有任何应答，这听起来如同打碎在岩石上。斯蒂尔皱起了眉头。但是对黑色的效果感到满意——正是这笔颜色把其余的一切全组织到了一起。“啊，可以在五十岁了学习画画！那里有橘黄色……等等，找到了正确的色彩，他看了看，看见了他惊恐地一片云笼罩在海湾上。

弗兰德夫人站了起来，拍打她的外套边缘，把沙子脱掉，拿起她黑色的遮阳伞。

岩石是那些非常坚实的棕色岩石之一，或相当黑的，就像是从沙滩上冒出来的一些原始的东西。皱巴巴的帽贝的壳和稀疏散落着干海藻的缠绕，一个小男孩必须把他的腿伸得很开，而且确实感到相当的英雄，才可以到达顶峰。

但是，在岩石顶部却是一个充满水的空洞，和一个泥沙的底部；有一大块水母粘在一边，还有一些贻贝。一条鱼飞驰而过。黄褐色海藻的边缘飘动着，并推出了一个蛋白色的石蟹——“哦，一只大个的螃蟹，”雅各嘀咕道——在沙子的底部，它伸出虚弱的腿开始了它的旅程。现在！雅各伸下他的手想抓住它。螃蟹很冷，非常轻。但是水里有沙子有些浑浊，然后如此就要爬下来，雅各把他的水桶放在他面前，正要跳下去，他却看到完全是一个大块儿的男人和女人僵硬的、并排着的脸色通红的躺在那里。

一个大块儿的男人和女人（在提前关门的日子）不知疲倦地扭展着身躯，他们的头靠在手绢上，肩并肩地，在离海只有的几英尺的范围内，两三条海鸥在涌来的海浪中翩翩起舞，停落在他们的靴子附近。

红着脸躺在手帕上的这对儿大块儿男女盯着雅各。雅各也盯着他们。他非常小心地抓住他的水桶，雅各然后故意跳了起来，首先非常无所顾忌地跑开了，而且越跑越快，海浪正迎面扑向他，使得他不得不避开它们，海鸥在他面前飞起，向外漂浮后再稍微安顿下来。一个大个子的黑女子正坐在沙滩上。他跑向她。

“阿姨！阿姨！”他哭了，每次在气喘嘘嘘地顶峰时刻哭泣着说。

海浪围绕着她。她原来是一块岩石。她被按压时弹出的海藻覆盖着。他迷路了。

他站在那里。他的脸色镇静下来。他正要吼叫，在悬崖下的黑树枝和稻草中间时，他看到一个完整的头骨——也许是一头牛的头骨，一个头骨，也许里面还有牙齿。心不在焉地哭泣着，他跑得越来越远，直到他把头骨抱在怀里。

“他在那儿！”弗兰德太太喊道，几秒钟之后绕过岩石，就看遍了整个海滩。“他有什么东西？把它放下，雅各！立刻放下它！有些东西是可怕的，我知道。你为什么不和我们在一起？淘气的小男孩！现在把它放下。现在你们两个来吧。”她扫了一下，一只手握着阿切尔，另一只手摸着雅各的手臂。但是雅各躲了起来，捡起了羊颚，这回骨头已经松散了。

摇着她的包，抓住她的遮阳伞，握住阿切尔的手，讲述可怜的科诺先生因为火药爆炸失去了他的眼睛的故事，弗兰德斯太太急匆匆地迈着沉重的步伐跑上了陡峭的巷子，在她心灵的深处意识到了一直埋藏着一些不安感。

沙滩上那对儿恋人躺着不远处的老羊没有下颚的头骨附近。干净的，白色的，刮风的，沙砾的，在康沃尔海岸没有哪里一块儿比它更没污染的骨头。海冬青会从头骨眼窝里长出来，它将会变成粉末，或者被某个高尔夫球员，在一天之内击球打中它，会驱散掉一点点灰尘——不，但不是在寄宿处，弗兰德斯太太想着。带着年幼的孩子们出来，这次已是一个很好的实验了。没有人可以帮助她推这个婴儿车。雅各就是这么一小撮人，已经如此地倔强。

“把它扔掉吧，亲爱的，是的，”她说。当他们上路时，但是雅各从她身边扭动起来；风起来的时候，她拿掉了帽子的别针，看了看海，又重新别上了。风已在上升。海浪显示它的不安，如同有生命力的东西一样，躁动不安，在风暴之前，它期待着海浪的鞭打。渔船斜靠在水边上。一道淡黄色的光芒照射在紫色的海面上；然后关闭了。灯塔已经点亮了。“来吧，”贝蒂·弗兰德斯说。太阳在他们的脸上闪闪发光，阿奇尔试着去从树篱中把一个金光闪闪的大黑莓颤抖着剥出来。“不要拖延，孩子。你们没有任何东西去改变风暴的到来，”贝蒂说道，把他们拉了过来，看着地球上的不安情绪显得如此色彩斑斓，从花园里的温室突然发出一阵闪光，带着一种忽黄忽黑的色彩变化，迎着炽热的日落，这种令人惊讶的激动和色彩的活力，激起了贝蒂·弗兰德斯，使她想到了责任和危险。她握住阿切尔的手。她上了山。

“我要求你记住什么？”她说。

“我不知道，”阿切尔说。

“呃，我也不知道，”贝蒂幽默而简单地说道。谁又会否认这种空虚的心态，再加上丰富多彩的组合，母亲智慧，老太太的故事，随意的方式，惊人的大胆时刻，幽默和多愁善感——谁会否认在这些方面每个女人都比任何男人都好？

那么，贝蒂·弗兰德斯就是这样的女人。

她把她的手放在花园门口。

“肉！”她喊道。

敲了敲门闩。她已经忘记了带肉回来。

窗户上露出了丽贝卡的面孔。前屋皮尔斯太太的露台在晚上十点全部露了出来，桌子中间放着一盏强大的油灯。刺眼的光线落在了花园里。直行穿过草坪;照亮了孩子的桶和伸出树篱的一颗紫色的翠菊。弗兰德斯夫人放下她的针线活儿在桌子上。那里有她的大卷的白棉布和她的钢制眼镜；她的针线盒；她的棕色羊毛缠绕在一张旧明信片上。那里有芦苇和《海滨》杂志；油地毯上还有从男孩的靴子沾带进来的沙子。一个长腿昆虫映出身影从一个角落飞到另一个角落，然后撞上了灯泡。风直接吹过了穿过窗户的雨水，当闪亮的银光通过那些灯的时侯。一片叶子匆匆地、固执地拍打在玻璃上。海上出现了一场飓风。

阿切尔无法入睡。

弗兰德夫人弯下腰来。“想想仙女，”贝蒂·弗兰德斯说。“想想那些可爱的，可爱的小鸟在它们的巢穴上安顿下来。现在闭上你的眼睛，看到老母鸟在嘴里有一只虫子。现在请闭上你的眼睛，“她低声说，“闭上你的眼睛。”

住宿屋似乎充满了潺潺流水，水箱溢出；水冒泡，吱吱作响，沿着管道流下，往下流过窗户。“水冲进来什么了？”阿切尔嘀咕着。

弗兰德斯太太说：“只是洗澡水被跑掉了。”

有东西在门外折断的声音。

“我说，那轮船不会下沉吗？”阿切尔睁开眼睛说。

“当然不会，”弗兰德斯太太说。

“船长早就在床上了。闭上你的眼睛，想着仙女，在花下快速入睡。”

“我以为他根本不会睡着了——在这样的飓风中。”她低声对丽贝卡说。丽贝卡正弯着身子坐在隔壁门口的一盏灯旁。

风在外面冲了出来，但是那只小小的油灯静静地燃烧着，从床边放置的一本书遮挡住了灯光的影子。

“他奶吃得好吗？”弗兰德夫人低声说，丽贝卡点点头，走到小床边，把被子卷了下去。弗兰德夫人俯下身，焦急地看着婴儿：似乎睡着了，但是皱着眉头。窗户摇了摇，丽贝卡偷偷地像一只猫一样的走进来，把窗户销子锁住。

两个女人在油灯之间低声说着话，策划着的管住孩子的永恒谋略和清洗瓶子的话题。当狂风大作并突然地扭动着廉价的窗口插销。

两人都转头看了一下婴儿床。他们的嘴唇紧闭着。弗兰德夫人冲过来。

“睡着了？”丽贝卡低声说，望着婴儿床。

弗兰德斯太太点了点头。

“丽贝卡，晚安，”弗兰德太太低声说，丽贝卡叫她“妈妈”，虽然他们是策划着管住孩子的永恒谋略和清洗瓶子的要点话题的同谋。

弗兰德斯夫人已经离开了前面的房间里正在点着的油灯。那里有她的眼镜，她的针线活儿；还有斯卡伯勒邮戳的一封信。她也没有拉上窗帘。

灯光在草地上闪闪发光，倒映在孩子的周围有金线的绿桶上，旁边剧烈地颤抖着的翠菊。此刻风正在撕叫着穿过海岸，纷纷向山上倾泻，突然猛然一跃，在山的背上旋转而起。它是怎样散布在城市的空洞中的！灯光似乎在闪烁，颤抖着。海港里的灯光、卧室窗户的灯光都高高地升起！在它面前摇晃着黑暗的波浪，它在大西洋上空飞驰着，用这种方式把船上空看到的星星甩开。

前面的客厅里传来“咔嗒”一声。皮尔斯先生熄灭了灯。花园立刻消失了，变成了一个黑暗的土地。每寸土地上正下着雨。每片草叶都被雨水压得弯曲了。眼皮本来被雨水快速打住而无法睁开。一个人放平后背躺着，他什么也看不见，但是只会看到混乱和混杂——云在上下左右地翻滚着，在黑暗中显示出有些黄色和硫磺色。

前卧室的小男孩已经把毯子踢掉了，躺在床单下面。那里很热；也相当粘稠和潮湿。阿切尔摊开了一只手臂压在枕头上。他满脸通红着。当沉重的窗帘被风吹动了一下，他转过身，半睁着眼睛。看着风真的把衣柜里的衣服掀开，并放出一点点光可以看见抽屉边缘楞角，笔直地闪动着，一直奔向白色的光影，并在镜子里闪现出了银色的条纹。

雅各在另一张床上，已经睡着了，进入了深沉的睡眠中。那只大黄牙的羊颚放在他的脚下，他已经把它踢到铁床栏附近。

在凌晨的几个小时里，外面的雨水更加直接而有力地倾泻下来。翠菊被敲打到地上。孩子的桶里全是半满的雨水，蛋白色的石蟹在水桶底部缓缓地盘爬着，用微弱的腿试着爬上陡峭的桶壁的一边。掉了下来，再次尝试着向上爬，一次又一次地尝试着。

 

C、中英逐句对译和译文比较

 

2018年精读吴尔芙作品，刘正逐句对译

《Jacob's Room by Virginia Woolf》及笔记

（校勘和学习王家湘、蒲隆二译本之正误）

 

Chapter One

第一章

 

“So of course.”wrote Betty Flanders,

“所以，当然。”贝蒂·弗兰德斯写道，

pressing her heels rather deeper in the sand. 

把她的鞋跟在沙里压得更深。

“there was nothing for it but to leave.”

“没有任何值得留恋了，只好离开。”

 

【刘正笔记】人民文学出版社出版的蒲隆译本中，①“there was nothing for it but to leave.”

译为：“看来只有走了。”显然不符合原意。

 

Slowly welling from the point of her gold nib,

从她的金笔尖的尖端缓缓地涌出，

pale blue ink dissolved the full stop;

淡蓝色的墨水溶化了句号;

for there her pen stuck;

因为她的笔被卡住了;

her eyes fixed,

她的眼睛出神看着，

and tears slowly filled them.

眼泪慢慢充满了它们。

The entire bay quivered;

整个海湾颤抖起来；

the lighthouse wobbled;

灯塔摇晃着;

and she had the illusion that the mast of Mr. Connor’s little yacht was bending like a wax candle in the sun.

她幻想着康纳先生小游艇的桅杆在阳光下像蜡烛一样在弯曲着。

She winked quickly.

她快速地眨了眨眼。

Accidents were awful things.

事故是可怕的事情。

She winked again.

她又眨了眨眼。

The mast was straight;

桅杆是笔直的;

the waves were regular;

波浪是规律的;

the lighthouse was upright;

灯塔是直立的;

but the blot had spread.

但是墨渍已经蔓延。

“……nothing for it but to leave ,”she read.

“……没有任何值得留恋了，只好离开。”她念着。

 

【刘正笔记】人民文学出版社出版的蒲隆译本中，①“……nothing for it but to leave ,”译为“看来只有走了”。还是不符合原意。

 

“Well, if Jacob doesn’t want to play.”

“好吧，如果雅各不想玩的话。”

the shadow of Archer,

阿切尔的影子，

her eldest son,

她的长子，

fell across the notepaper and looked blue on the sand,

倒映在沙滩上飘落的信纸上并泛着蓝色。

 

【刘正笔记】人民文学出版社出版的蒲隆译本中，①“fell across the notepaper and looked blue on the sand”译为“落在了信纸上，落在了沙滩上，显得兰幽幽的”。显然，这句话翻译和理解有问题。

 

and she felt chilly—

她觉得很冷—

it was the third of September already.

这已经是九月三号了。

“if Jacob doesn’t want to play.”

“如果雅各不想玩。”

— what a horrid blot!

—多么可怕的污点！

It must be getting late.

一定要晚了。

“Where is that tiresome little boy?” she said.

“那个讨厌的小孩子在哪儿呢？”她说。

“I don’t see him.

“我没看见他。

Run and find him.

跑去找到他。

Tell him to come at once.”

叫他马上过来。”

“……but mercifully,” she scribbled, 

“......但是幸运的是”，她潦草地写着，

ignoring the full stop,

忽略了那个句号，

 “everything seems satisfactorily arranged,

“一切似乎令人满意地安排好了，

packed though we are like herrings in a barrel, 

尽管我们拥挤得像桶里的鲱鱼一样，

and forced to stand the perambulator which the landlady quite naturally won’t allow……”

并被迫着去竖着放置那童车，女房东很自然地不会允许......”

Such were Betty Flanders’s letters to Captain Barfoot—  

这正是贝蒂·弗兰德斯给巴尔富特上尉的信—

many-paged, tearstained. 

很多页面，都被沾满了泪痕。

Scarborough is seven hundred miles from Cornwall:

斯卡伯勒距离康沃尔七百英里：

Captain Barfoot is in Scarborough:

巴福特上尉在斯卡伯勒：

Seabrook is dead.

西布鲁克已经死了。

Tears made all the dahlias in her garden undulate in red waves and flashed the glass house in her eyes,

眼泪使她的花园里所有的大丽花在红色浪花中起伏着，并且玻璃暖房在她的眼睛里闪耀着，

and spangled the kitchen with bright knives,

用鲜亮的刀子把厨房装饰得闪烁发光，

and made Mrs. Jarvis,

并让贾维斯夫人，

the rector’s wife,

那个教区校长的妻子

think at church,

在教堂里思考，

while the hymn-tune played and Mrs. Flanders bent low over her little boys’ heads,

当赞美诗的曲调奏起时，弗兰德夫人低头看着她小孩子的头，

that marriage is a fortress and widows stray solitary in the open fields,

婚姻是一个堡垒，而寡妇孤零零地在开放的旷野上流浪着，

picking up stones,

拾起石头，

gleaning a few golden straws,

拾起几根金色的秸秆，

lonely, unprotected, poor creatures.

孤独的，没有保护的，可怜的生物。

 

【刘正笔记】人民文学出版社出版的蒲隆译本中，①“lonely, unprotected, poor creatures.

”译为“孑然一身，无依无靠，真可怜。”显然意译太多。

 

Mrs. Flanders had been a widow for these two years.

弗兰德斯夫人成为寡妇已经两年了。

“Ja — cob! Ja — cob!” Archer shouted.

“雅各！雅各！”阿切尔喊道。

“Scarborough,” Mrs. Flanders wrote on the envelope,

“斯卡伯勒，”弗兰德斯夫人在信封上写道，

and dashed a bold line beneath;

划了一道粗线在下面。

it was her native town;

这是她的家乡;

the hub of the universe.

宇宙的中心。

But a stamp?

可邮票呢？

She ferreted in her bag;

她在她的包里搜着；

then held it up mouth downwards;

然后她把书包开口向下拿着；

then fumbled in her lap,

然后在她的膝盖上摸索着倒出来的东西，

 

【刘正笔记】人民文学出版社出版的蒲隆译本中，①“then fumbled in her lap”译为“随后在衣兜里摸”，显然是误译。她没有理解上一句“then held it up mouth downwards”的动作含义。这是讲她把书包口向下，把里面东西全部倒在自己的膝盖和腿面上。接下来只能是在她的膝盖上摸索着倒出来的东西中是否有邮票。

 

all so vigorously that Charles Steele in the Panama hat suspended his paint-brush.

一切如此地忙乱。戴着巴拿马帽子的查尔斯·斯蒂尔把他的画笔停在半空中。

Like the antennae of some irritable insect it positively trembled.

就像一些易怒的昆虫的触角一样，那把画笔明显地发抖着。

Here was that woman moving —

这里那个女人正在移动着—

actually going to get up —

实际上却想站起来—

confound her!

让她感到困惑！

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①“confound her!”这句话译文为：“讨厌！”以我现在的英文，无法理解。②人民文学出版社出版的蒲隆译本中，这句话翻译为“管她呢！”应该是描写她不知道该动还是该站的困惑。

 

He struck the canvas a hasty violet-black dab.

他点击着画布画出草率地紫黑色的一块。

For the landscape needed it.

为了景观需要它。

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①“He struck the canvas a hasty violet-black dab.”这句话译文为：“他在画布上匆匆抹上一笔紫黑色”，根本没有翻译出“dab”的含义，显然属于漏译。而且原文使用“struck”已经含有使用画笔点击画布的含义，如果翻译为“抹上”，可能不太符合原意。

 

It was too pale —

太平淡了—

greys flowing into lavenders, 

灰色夹杂着淡紫色，

and one star or a white gull suspended just so —

一颗星或一只白色的鸥就这样的悬着—

too pale as usual.

通常过于平淡。

The critics would say it was too pale,

批评家们会说这画太平淡了，

for he was an unknown man exhibiting obscurely, 

因为他是一个无名之辈，展出自然不会引人关注，

a favourite with his landladies’ children,

一个他女房东的孩子们最喜欢的东西，

wearing a cross on his watch chain,

在他的手表链上戴着十字架，

and much gratified if his landladies liked his pictures —

并且他将很满意，如果他的女房东喜欢他的画— 

which they often did.

他们通常喜欢。

“Ja — cob! Ja — cob!” Archer shouted.

“雅各！雅各！”阿切尔喊道。

Exasperated by the noise, yet loving children,

被噪音所激怒，还是爱着孩子们

Steele picked nervously at the dark little coils on his palette.

斯蒂尔紧张地抓着他的调色板上的黑色小卷。

“I saw your brother — I saw your brother,” he said,

“我看见了你的兄弟—我看见你的兄弟了，”他说，

nodding his head,

他点点头，

as Archer lagged past him,

当阿切尔从他身后蹒跚而过，

trailing his spade,

拖着他的锹，

and scowling at the old gentleman in spectacles.

穿过眼镜怒视着那位老先生。

“Over there — by the rock,” Steele muttered,

“在那边—在石头上，”斯蒂尔嘀咕着，

with his brush between his teeth,

画笔咬在他的牙齿之间，

squeezing out raw sienna, 

挤出生的赭色颜料，

and keeping his eyes fixed on Betty Flanders’s back.

并保持他的目光盯在贝蒂弗兰德斯的背上。

“Ja — cob! Ja — cob!” shouted Archer, 

“雅各！雅各！”阿切尔叫着，

lagging on after a second.

落后了一秒钟之后。

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①“lagging on after a second.”这句话翻译为“接着又慢吞吞地向前走去”。应该是译者的创作太多了，超出了原作的内涵。

 

The voice had an extraordinary sadness.

声音显得非常地悲哀。

Pure from all body,

来自全身的纯洁，

pure from all passion,

来自全部热情的纯洁，

going out into the world,

传播到外界之中，

solitary, unanswered, breaking against rocks —

独自，没有回答，打碎在岩石上—

so it sounded.

这听起来。

Steele frowned;

斯蒂尔皱起了眉头。

but was pleased by the effect of the black —

但是对黑色的效果感到满意— 

it was just THAT note which brought the rest together.

正是这个注释把其余的一切组合到了一起。

“Ah, one may learn to paint at fifty! There’s Titian……”

“啊，可以在五十岁了学习画画！那里有澄黄色......”

and so, having found the right tint,

等等，找到了正确的色彩，

up he looked and saw to his horror a cloud over the bay.

他看了看，看见了让他惊恐地一片云笼罩在海湾上。

Mrs. Flanders rose,

弗兰德夫人站了起来，

slapped her coat this side and that to get the sand off,

拍打她的外套边缘，把沙子脱掉，

and picked up her black parasol.

拿起她黑色的遮阳伞。

The rock was one of those tremendously solid brown,

岩石是那些非常坚实的棕色岩石之一，

or rather black,

或相当黑的，

rocks which emerge from the sand like something primitive.

从沙滩上冒出来就像是一些原始的东西。

Rough with crinkled limpet shells and sparsely strewn with locks of dry seaweed,

皱巴巴的帽贝的壳和稀疏散落着干海藻的缠绕，

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①“sparsely strewn with locks of dry seaweed,”漏译了“locks”，译者显然是按照“sparsely strewn with dry seaweed,”来翻译和理解的。但是他把“sparsely strewn with locks of dry seaweed”译为“缕缕干海藻散步其间”属于意译。“locks of”没有“缕缕”含义，而是“缠绕”含义。

 

a small boy has to stretch his legs far apart,

一个小男孩必须把他的腿迈得很大，

and indeed to feel rather heroic,

而且确实感到相当的英雄，

before he gets to the top.

在他到达顶峰之前。

But there, on the very top,

但是，最高处

is a hollow full of water,

却是一个充满水的空洞，

with a sandy bottom;

和一个沙地的底部；

with a blob of jelly stuck to the side,

有一大块水母粘在一边，

and some mussels.

还有一些贻贝。

A fish darts across.

一条鱼飞驰而过。

The fringe of yellow-brown seaweed flutters,

黄褐色海藻的边缘飘动着，

and out pushes an opal-shelled crab —

并推出了一个蛋白色的石蟹—

“Oh, a huge crab,” Jacob murmured —

“哦，一只巨大的螃蟹，”雅各嘀咕道—

and begins his journey on weakly legs on the sandy bottom.

在沙子的底部它虚弱的腿开始了它的旅程。

Now! Jacob plunged his hand.

现在！雅各伸下他的手。

The crab was cool and very light.

螃蟹很冷，也非常轻。

But the water was thick with sand,

但是水里有沙子有些浑浊，

and so, scrambling down,

于是，就要往下爬，

Jacob was about to jump,

雅各正要跳下去，

holding his bucket in front of him,

把他的水桶放在他面前，

when he saw,

当他看到，

stretched entirely rigid,

完全是僵硬的，

side by side,

肩并肩地，

their faces very red,

他们的脸色很红，

an enormous man and woman.

一个大块头的男人和女人。

An enormous man and woman (it was early-closing day) were stretched motionless,

一个大块头的男人和女人（这是提前关门的日子）不知疲倦地扭展着，

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①“it was early-closing day”译为“在涨潮的日子”。②人民文学出版社出版的蒲隆译本中，这句话翻译为“天快黑了”。看起来，两个译文全不可靠。

 

with their heads on pocket-handkerchiefs,

他们的头靠在手绢上，

side by side,

肩并肩地，

within a few feet of the sea,

在离海有几英尺之内，

while two or three gulls gracefully skirted the incoming waves,

两三条海鸥在涌来的海浪中翩翩起舞，

and settled near their boots.

停落在他们的靴子附近。

The large red faces lying on the bandanna handkerchiefs stared up at Jacob.

大红脸男女躺在手帕上的盯着雅各。

Jacob stared down at them.

雅各盯着他们。

Holding his bucket very carefully,

非常小心地抓住他的水桶，

Jacob then jumped deliberately and trotted away very nonchalantly at first,

雅各然后故意跳了起来，首先非常无所顾忌地跑开，

but faster and faster as the waves came creaming up to him and he had to swerve to avoid them,

而且越来越快，海浪迎面扑向他，他不得不避开它们，

and the gulls rose in front of him and floated out and settled again a little farther on.

海鸥在他面前升起，漂浮在外面再稍微安顿下来。

A large black woman was sitting on the sand.

一个大个子的黑人女子正坐在沙滩上。

He ran towards her.

他跑向她。

“Nanny! Nanny!” he cried,

“阿姨！阿姨！”他哭了，

sobbing the words out on the crest of each gasping breath.

每次气喘嘘嘘地顶峰时刻哭泣着说。

The waves came round her.

海浪围绕着她。

She was a rock.

她原来是一块岩石。

She was covered with the seaweed which pops when it is pressed.

她被按压时弹出的海藻覆盖着。

He was lost.

他迷路了。

There he stood.

他站在那里。

His face composed itself.

他的脸色镇静下来。

He was about to roar when,

他正要吼叫，

lying among the black sticks and straw under the cliff,

躺在悬崖下的黑色树枝和稻草中间，

he saw a whole skull —

他看到一个完整的头骨—

perhaps a cow’s skull,

也许是一头牛的头骨，

a skull, perhaps,

一个头骨，也许，

with the teeth in it.

里面还有牙齿。

Sobbing, but absent-mindedly,

呜咽着，但心不在焉，

he ran farther and farther away until he held the skull in his arms.

他跑得越来越远，直到他把头骨抱在他的手臂里。

“There he is!” cried Mrs. Flanders,

“他在那儿！”弗兰德太太喊道，

coming round the rock and covering the whole space of the beach in a few seconds.

几秒钟之后绕过岩石，覆盖整个海滩。

“What has he got hold of?

“他有什么东西？

Put it down, Jacob!

把它放下，雅各！

Drop it this moment!

立刻放下它！

Something horrid, I know.

有些东西是可怕的，我知道。

Why didn’t you stay with us?

你为什么不和我们在一起？

Naughty little boy!

淘气的小男孩！

Now put it down.

现在把它放下。

Now come along both of you,”

现在你们两个来吧。”

and she swept round,

她扫了一下，

holding Archer by one hand and fumbling for Jacob’s arm with the other.

一只手握着阿切尔，另一只手摸着雅各的手臂。

But he ducked down and picked up the sheep’s jaw,

但是他躲了起来，捡起了羊颚，

which was loose.

它已经松散了。

Swinging her bag,

摇着她的包，

clutching her parasol,

抓住她的遮阳伞，

holding Archer’s hand,

握住阿切尔的手，

and telling the story of the gunpowder explosion in which poor Mr. Curnow had lost his eye,

正讲述着可怜的科诺先生因为火药爆炸失去了他的眼睛的故事，

Mrs. Flanders hurried up the steep lane,

弗兰德斯太太急匆匆地跑上了陡峭的巷子，

aware all the time in the depths of her mind of some buried discomfort.

意识到了在她的心灵的深处一直埋藏着一些不适。

There on the sand not far from the lovers lay the old sheep’s skull without its jaw.

沙滩上在离那对儿恋人不远处躺着老羊没有下颚的头骨。

Clean, white, wind-swept, sand-rubbed,

干净的，白色的，刮风的，沙砾的，

a more unpolluted piece of bone existed nowhere on the coast of Cornwall.

在康沃尔海岸没有哪里会存在一块比它更没污染的骨头。

The sea holly would grow through the eye-sockets;

海冬青会从头骨眼窝里长出来，

it would turn to powder,

头骨会变成粉末，

or some golfer,

或者某个高尔夫球员，

hitting his ball one fine day,

在一个晴朗的日子里击球，

would disperse a little dust —

会将它驱散成一点点灰尘—

No, but not in lodgings,

不，但不是在寄宿的房子里，

thought Mrs. Flanders.

弗兰德斯太太想着。

It’s a great experiment coming so far with young children.

这是一个很好的实验，带着年幼的孩子们。

There’s no man to help with the perambulator.

没有人可以帮助这个婴儿车。

And Jacob is such a handful;

雅各就是如此的一小撮；

so obstinate already.

已经如此固执。

“Throw it away, dear, do,” she said,

“把它扔掉吧，亲爱的，是的，”她说。

as they got into the road;

当他们上路时，

but Jacob squirmed away from her;

但是雅各从她身边扭动起来;

and the wind rising,

风起来的时候，

she took out her bonnet-pin,

她拿掉了她帽子的别针，

looked at the sea,

看了看海，

and stuck it in afresh.

又重新别上了。

The wind was rising.

风已在上升。

The waves showed that uneasiness, 

海浪显示它的不安，

like something alive, restive,

如同有生命力的东西一样，躁动不安，

expecting the whip of waves before a storm.

在风暴之前期待着海浪的鞭打。

The fishing-boats were leaning to the water’s brim.

渔船斜靠在水边上。

A pale yellow light shot across the purple sea;

一道淡黄色的光芒照射在紫色的海面上；

and shut.

然后关闭了。

The lighthouse was lit.

灯塔点亮了。

“Come along,” said Betty Flanders.

“来吧，”贝蒂·弗兰德斯说。

The sun blazed in their faces and gilded the great blackberries trembling out from the hedge which Archer tried to strip as they passed.

太阳在他们的脸上闪闪发光，阿奇尔试着去把一个金光闪闪的大黑莓颤抖着从树篱中剥出来。

“Don’t lag, boys.

“不要拖延，孩子。

You’ve got nothing to change into,” said Betty,

你们没有任何东西去改变了，”贝蒂说道，

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①“You’ve got nothing to change into”译为“你们没有衣服可以换了”。②人民文学出版社出版的蒲隆译本中，“You’ve got nothing to change into”译为“你们再没有鬼把戏可变了”。显然，这两个理解不符合小说的原意。这里是想说明孩子们已经没有任何可能去改变大风暴的到来。

 

pulling them along,

把他们拉了过来，

and looking with uneasy emotion at the earth displayed so luridly, 

看着地球上的不安情绪显得如此色彩斑斓，

with sudden sparks of light from greenhouses in gardens,

从花园里的温室突然发出一阵闪光，

with a sort of yellow and black mutability,

带着一种不停变化的黄色和黑色，

against this blazing sunset,

迎着炽热的日落，

this astonishing agitation and vitality of colour,

这种令人惊讶的激动和色彩的活力，

which stirred Betty Flanders and made her think of responsibility and danger.

激起了贝蒂弗兰德斯，使她想到了责任和危险。

She gripped Archer’s hand.

她握住阿切尔的手。

On she plodded up the hill.

她沉重地登上了山，

“What did I ask you to remember?” she said.

“我要求你记住什么？”她说。

“I don’t know,” said Archer.

“我不知道，”阿彻尔说。

“Well, I don’t know either,”

“呃，我也不知道，”

said Betty, humorously and simply,

贝蒂说道，幽默而简单地

and who shall deny that this blankness of mind,

谁又会否认这种空虚的心态，

when combined with profusion,

再加上丰富多彩的组合，

mother wit, old wives’ tales,

母亲智慧，老太太的故事，

haphazard ways,

随意的方式，

moments of astonishing daring,

惊人的大胆时刻，

humour, and sentimentality —

幽默和多愁善感—

who shall deny that in these respects every woman is nicer than any man?

谁会否认在这些方面每个女人都比任何男人都好？

Well, Betty Flanders, to begin with.

那么，贝蒂弗兰德斯，首先就是这样。

She had her hand upon the garden gate.

她把她的手放在花园门口。

“The meat!” she exclaimed,

“肉！”她喊道。

striking the latch down.

敲了敲门闩。

She had forgotten the meat.

她已经忘记了肉。

There was Rebecca at the window.

窗户上是丽贝卡。

The bareness of Mrs. Pearce’s front room was fully displayed at ten o’clock at night，

前屋皮尔斯太太的露台在晚上十点全部露出来，

when a powerful oil lamp stood on the middle of the table.

桌子中间站着一盏强大的油灯。

The harsh light fell on the garden;

刺眼的光线落在了花园里。

cut straight across the lawn;

直行穿过草坪;

lit up a child’s bucket and a purple aster and reached the hedge.

照亮了一个孩子的桶和伸出树篱的一颗紫色的翠菊。

Mrs. Flanders had left her sewing on the table.

弗兰德斯夫人放下她的针线活在桌子上。

There were her large reels of white cotton and her steel spectacles;

那里有她的大卷的白棉布和她的钢制眼镜;

her needle-case;

她的针线盒;

her brown wool wound round an old postcard.

她的棕色羊毛缠绕在一张旧明信片上。

There were the bulrushes and the Strand magazines;

那里有芦苇和《海滨》杂志;

and the linoleum sandy from the boys’ boots.

还有在地毯上从男孩的靴子上沾进来的沙子地。

A daddy-long-legs shot from corner to corner and hit the lamp globe. 

一个长腿昆虫映出身影从一个角落飞到另一个角落，然后撞上了灯泡。

The wind blew straight dashes of rain across the window,

风直接吹过了穿透窗户的雨水，

which flashed silver as they passed through the light.

当闪亮的银光通过那些灯的时侯。

A single leaf tapped hurriedly, persistently, upon the glass.

一片叶子匆匆地、固执地拍打在玻璃上。

There was a hurricane out at sea.

海上出现了一场飓风。

Archer could not sleep.

阿切尔无法入睡。

Mrs. Flanders stooped over him.

弗兰德夫人弯下腰来。

“Think of the fairies,” said Betty Flanders.

“想想仙女，”贝蒂弗兰德斯说。

“Think of the lovely, lovely birds settling down on their nests.

 “想想那些可爱的，可爱的小鸟在它们的巢穴上安顿下来。

Now shut your eyes and see the old mother bird with a worm in her beak.

现在闭上你的眼睛，看到老母鸟在嘴里有一只虫子。

Now turn and shut your eyes,” she murmured,

现在请闭上你的眼睛，“她低声说，

“and shut your eyes.”

“闭上你的眼睛。”

The lodging-house seemed full of gurgling and rushing;

住宿屋似乎充满了潺潺流水，

the cistern overflowing;

水箱溢出;

water bubbling and squeaking and running along the pipes and streaming down the windows.

水冒泡，吱吱作响，沿着管道流下，往下流过窗户。

“What’s all that water rushing in?” murmured Archer.

 “水冲进来的是什么？”阿切尔嘀咕着。

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①“What’s all that water rushing in?”译为“那些水怎么回事都冲进来了？”明显是意译。

 

“It’s only the bath water running away,” said Mrs. Flanders.

弗兰德斯太太说：“只有洗澡水跑掉了。”

Something snapped out of doors.

有东西在门外折断了。

“I say, won’t that steamer sink?”

“我说，那轮船不会下沉吗？”

said Archer, opening his eyes.

阿切尔睁开眼睛说。

“Of course it won’t,” said Mrs. Flanders.

“当然不会，”弗兰德斯太太说。

“The Captain’s in bed long ago.

“船长早就在床上了。

Shut your eyes,

闭上你的眼睛，

and think of the fairies,

想着仙女，

fast asleep, under the flowers.”

快速入睡，在花下。”

“I thought he’d never get off —

“我以为他永远不会睡着了—

such a hurricane,”

这样的飓风。”

she whispered to Rebecca,

她低声对瑞贝卡说，

who was bending over a spirit-lamp in the small room next door.

她正弯着身子在隔壁房门的一盏灯旁。

The wind rushed outside,

风在外面冲了出来，

but the small flame of the spirit-lamp burnt quietly,

但是那只小小的火焰灯静静地燃烧着，

shaded from the cot by a book stood on edge.

立着一本书的边缘从床边产生阴影。

“Did he take his bottle well?” Mrs. Flanders whispered,

“他奶吃得好吗？”弗兰德夫人低声说，

and Rebecca nodded and went to the cot and turned down the quilt,

丽贝卡点点头，走到小床边，把被子卷了下去。

and Mrs. Flanders bent over and looked anxiously at the baby,

弗兰德夫人俯下身，焦急地看着婴儿，

asleep, but frowning.

睡着了，但皱着眉头。

The window shook,

窗户摇了摇，

and Rebecca stole like a cat and wedged it.

丽贝卡偷偷地像一只猫一样走过去，把窗户楔了起来。

The two women murmured over the spirit-lamp,

两个女人在油灯前低声说话，

plotting the eternal conspiracy of hush and clean bottles while the wind raged and gave a sudden wrench at the cheap fastenings.

策划着的（如何管住孩子的）永恒谋略和清洗奶瓶（的要点），当狂风大作并突然地扭动着便宜的紧固件时。

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①“plotting the eternal conspiracy of hush”翻译为“永无休止的密谋策划着有关哄婴儿”。理解对，就是意译太多。怎么译文更好？我以为应该是“策划着的（如何管住孩子的）永恒谋略和清洗奶瓶（的要点）”。

 

Both looked round at the cot.

两人都转头看婴儿床。

Their lips were pursed.

他们的嘴唇紧闭着。

Mrs. Flanders crossed over to the cot.

弗兰德夫人冲到床前。

“Asleep?” whispered Rebecca, looking at the cot.

“睡着了？”丽贝卡低声说，望着婴儿床。

Mrs. Flanders nodded.

弗兰德斯太太点了点头。

“Good-night, Rebecca,” Mrs. Flanders murmured,

“丽贝卡，晚安，”弗兰德太太低声说，

and Rebecca called her ma’m,

丽贝卡叫她妈妈，

 

【刘正笔记】译林出版社出版的王家湘译本中，①把“Rebecca called her ma’m”翻译为“丽贝卡称她为夫人”，显然有误。

 

though they were conspirators plotting the eternal conspiracy of hush and clean bottles.

虽然他们策划着的（如何管住孩子的）永恒谋略和清洗奶瓶要点的同谋人。

Mrs. Flanders had left the lamp burning in the front room.

弗兰德斯夫人已经离开了前面的房间里正在点着的灯。

There were her spectacles,

那里有她的眼镜，

her sewing;

她的缝纫;

and a letter with the Scarborough postmark.

还有斯卡伯勒邮戳的一封信。

She had not drawn the curtains either.

她也没有拉上窗帘。

The light blazed out across the patch of grass;

灯光在草地上闪闪发光。

fell on the child’s green bucket with the gold line round it,

倒映在孩子的有周围金色线的绿桶上，

and upon the aster which trembled violently beside it.

旁边剧烈地颤抖着的翠菊。

For the wind was tearing across the coast,

因为风正在撕叫着穿过海岸，

hurling itself at the hills, and leaping,in sudden gusts,

纷纷向山上倾泻，突然猛然一跃，

on top of its own back.

在自己的背上。

How it spread over the town in the hollow!

它是如何散布在城市的空洞里！

How the lights seemed to wink and quiver in its fury,

灯光似乎在闪烁，颤抖着，

lights in the harbour,

海港里的灯光，

lights in bedroom windows high up!

卧室窗户的灯光高高地升起！

And rolling dark waves before it,

在它面前摇晃着黑暗的波浪，

it raced over the Atlantic,

它在大西洋上空飞驰着，

jerking the stars above the ships this way and that.

用这种方式把船上空的星星甩开。

There was a click in the front sitting-room.

前面的客厅里传来咔嗒一声。

Mr. Pearce had extinguished the lamp.

皮尔斯先生熄灭了灯。

The garden went out.

花园消失了。

It was but a dark patch.

这只是一片黑暗的土地。

Every inch was rained upon.

每寸土地上正下着雨。

Every blade of grass was bent by rain.

每片草叶都被雨水压得弯曲了。

Eyelids would have been fastened down by the rain.

眼皮本来会被雨水快速固定的。

Lying on one’s back one would have seen nothing but muddle and confusion —

一个人放平后背躺下，什么也看不见但是只会看到混乱和混杂— 

clouds turning and turning,

云在翻滚着

and something yellow-tinted and sulphurous in the darkness.

在黑暗中有些黄色和硫磺色。

The little boys in the front bedroom had thrown off their blankets and lay under the sheets.

前卧室的小男孩已经把毯子踢掉，躺在床单下面。

It was hot;

它很热;

rather sticky and steamy.

相当粘稠和潮湿。

Archer lay spread out,

阿切尔摊开了，

with one arm striking across the pillow.

一只手臂撞在枕头上。

He was flushed;

他脸通红着。

and when the heavy curtain blew out a little he turned and half-opened his eyes.

当沉重的帷幕吹了一下，他转过身，半睁着眼睛。

The wind actually stirred the cloth on the chest of drawers,

风真的把衣柜里的衣服掀开，

and let in a little light,

并放出一点点光

so that the sharp edge of the chest of drawers was visible, running straight up,

让抽屉里的锋利边缘看得见，直线奔跑着，

until a white shape bulged out;

直到奔向白色的形状出来，

and a silver streak showed in the looking-glass.

在镜子里出现了银色的条纹。

In the other bed by the door Jacob lay asleep,

雅各在另一张床上，睡着了，

fast asleep, profoundly unconscious.

睡着了，深深地昏睡着。

The sheep’s jaw with the big yellow teeth in it lay at his feet.

那只大黄牙的羊颚放在他的脚下。

He had kicked it against the iron bed-rail.

他已经把它踢在铁床栏上了。

Outside the rain poured down more directly and powerfully as the wind fell in the early hours of the morning.

在凌晨几个小时里，外面的雨水更加直接而有力地倾泻下来。

The aster was beaten to the earth.

翠菊被敲打到地上。

The child’s bucket was half-full of rainwater;

孩子的桶里有半满的雨水，

and the opal-shelled crab slowly circled round the bottom,

蛋白色的石蟹缓缓在底部盘爬着，

trying with its weakly legs to climb the steep side;

用微弱的腿试着爬上陡峭的一边。

trying again and falling back,

再次尝试，回落下来，

and trying again and again.

一次又一次地尝试。