From Chinese into English
從漢語到英語
儘管我學習英語已經很多年，也翻譯出版了幾本英美小說，可是直到今天我對漢譯英卻還是十分謹慎的，對一些國外報刊的英文約稿從不敢輕易應允，更不敢主動把自己的文章譯成英文發表。準確的英譯漢要經過嚴格的訓練才有可能做到，翻譯文學作品就要有更深的功力了，而要把文學作品的漢譯英做好，不僅要具備漢語和英語本身的堅實基礎，還要有其他方面的深厚涵養。文學的漢譯英決不是學過幾年英語就能做到的，實際上這種翻譯是譯者的二度創作。
對於中國人，英譯漢做得漂亮不容易，漢譯英做得漂亮就更難了，因為在進行漢譯英的置換時，我們很可能在潛意識裡就把漢語習慣載入了英語。往往是這樣，我們認為自己譯得很好的英文，英語國家的人卻會挑出很多毛病，小的，大的，甚至標點符號，還有的地方他們乾脆就說看不懂。那種時候真讓人很喪氣，可是怎麼辦呢？
多年前，我經常把一篇篇自認為很好的漢譯英文章寄給我的美國朋友Jerry，他看完又把修改後的文章寄回來，看著被他用紅色圓珠筆修改得密密麻麻的地方，我總是很難過，也很奇怪，為什麼我認為對的地方卻是錯的呢？有時候，我會一連幾個小時，盯著那些被紅筆劃過的痕跡苦思冥想，一會兒好像恍然大悟，一會兒好像又繞進了文字的迷魂陣。我覺得漢譯英太難了。不過，我還是鼓起勇氣，繼續學習，並且堅持每天都做一些漢譯英的練習。
那時候，我讀了一本《中詩英譯探勝》，那本書讓我愛不釋手，裡面是中外語言專家翻譯的中國古代詩詞，從到。讀那些詩歌，我體味到漢語詩詞英譯的困難，把意思表達準確是要下苦功的，而既忠實於原文，又表現出原文的意蘊，就需要付出更多的心血。有些古詩詞被譯成了英語，卻品不出古詩詞的意味了，但是，我仍然感受到譯者對每一個句子，甚至每一個詞的認真推敲。不過我想，也許任何一種外語都不能充分地表達意象萬千的中國古詩詞，因為它們獨特魅力的光芒是別的語言不能與之爭輝的。比如唐代孟浩然的《春曉》：
春眠不覺曉，
處處聞啼鳥。
夜來風雨聲，
花落知多少？
羅伯特?佩恩（Robert Payne）是這樣翻譯的：
I slept in spring not conscious of the dawn,
But heard the gay birds chattering all around,
I remember, there was a storm at night.
Pray, how many blossoms have fallen down?
許淵衝先生的譯文是這樣的：
This morn of spring in bed I'm lying,
Not to awake till birds are crying.
After one night of wind and showers,
How many are the fallen flowers!
這種對比多麼有趣啊！文學作品有多種多樣的譯法，因為人們對它有各種各樣的理解和想像。我已經不能確切地回憶起那些日子是怎樣度過的，只記得那本《中詩英譯探勝》一直放在我的床頭，每天夜晚我都要翻看，我喜歡書中那些英語國家的人翻譯的每一首詩詞，看他們怎樣用英語來表現中國古代詩詞，或是把它們變成一個個通俗的英語故事。讀那本書我總是快樂的。
從那以後，我又給Jerry寄去文章，一篇又一篇，我發現，他在文章裡做的紅色修改印跡越來越少了。再後來，我就用e-mail給Jerry發去我的漢譯英文章。有一次，我給Jerry發去一篇我翻譯的自己的散文，他在回信中說：
It was so beautiful. I love it. It was wonderful. Haidi, this was a joy to read and I was excited to read every line. Your imagination is so vivid and thoughtful. Yes, remember our conversations, “What is the meaning of life?” Well, you have a clear idea. Those memories last forever. They do. Don't they?
（文章這麼美，我喜歡它，寫得很好。海迪，讀這篇文章是一種快樂，讀每一行文字都讓我激動。你的想像是這樣生動並且令人深思。是的，還記得我們的談話嗎？“生命的意義是什麼？”啊，你的想法很明確。生命的記憶是持久的，肯定是持久的，不是這樣嗎？）
不過，Jerry 的信並沒有讓我感到欣慰，我覺得Jerry作為美國人也許還不能透徹地理解我的本意，他只是讀懂了這個故事。怎樣才能讓外國人真正理解這個故事呢？我繼續修改文章，還請另一位美國朋友Margaret幫我提意見。我想，Margaret是女性，她也許會從另一個角度理解這個故事。在和他們討論這篇文章的時候，我覺得自己對漢譯英有了更大的興趣——漢語和英語畢竟是兩種語言，怎麼才能譯得更好呢？
下面是Jerry 和Margaret幫我修改過的散文。我真希望有人能再將它譯成中文，看看在別人的筆下它會變成一個什麼樣的故事：
In a small town, I lived in a very large courtyard. The courtyard was so large that people in big cities could not have imagined the size. It was as large as two football fields. There was a row of single-story houses where our two families lived. The courtyard was bathed in bright sunshine, so my neighbor grew various kinds of vegetables: cucumber, eggplant, haricot bean, tomatoes, and hot green peppers. In the summer the open ground was colorful; the red, the green, the purple and the orange formed a beautiful pattern. Our red roof houses with a sharp tower reflected the suns brightness, and the big doors and windows were painted sky blue as if the houses were built of colorful toy bricks as in the fairy tales.
Usually the courtyard was quiet, and sometimes it was so quiet that you could feel that it was so spacious, yet empty. I loved reading in the courtyard where the sunshine was mild and the air was fresh. I sat under a big tree where the leaves breathed perfume of greenness and tenderness.
There was a black dog, he was a big watchdog. To me he was friendly and when I was reading he would always lie beside my wheelchair. Sometimes I felt the book was dull, so I would raise my head and wanted to talk to somebody. But at those times no one was there talking to me. In the evening when the sun was setting, the courtyard was bathed in golden red light. People coming home from work brought life to the courtyard. Men and women chattered when drawing water from the well. After school children played catching games around the courtyard, as they were running and laughing the black dog ran after them joyfully barking. Everyday the scene appeared as the same.
During the day there was not only the black dog and me in the courtyard, there was also a Granny who was over eighty-years old. She was my neighbor and utterly blind. Most of the time she stayed in her house, sitting in an old armchair. Sometimes the armchair was moved to the front of the door and she sat there a whole afternoon in silence. No sound was heard from her so I often forgot her existence and in my consciousness there was only the black dog and me in the courtyard; but in reality there was the black dog, me and Granny.
One day I again sat under the big tree, reading Die Weltraetsel (The Mystery of the Universe) by Ernst Haeckel, a German biologist. The chapter I was reading related to the life processes of human beings. Haeckel said, the processes of life in the nature were flowing like the loquacious stream, the blazing fire, the fitful breezes and the collapsing of rocks from mountains... I couldn't help thinking of Granny. I turned my head and looked at her. I saw that she was sitting in her armchair not far from me. She held a dragon stick with both hands in front of her chest. Her head drooped, and the skin on her face was flabby. Her eyes were slightly closed and she made no sound as if she was asleep. She was always so quiet and serene. What was she thinking about? Was the river of her consciousness still flowing? I wanted very much to ask her if she felt lonely? If there were any other feelings in her mind?
I turned my wheelchair to her side and asked her loudly, are you asleep Granny?
No, I don't feel sleepy, Granny answered.
So, what are you thinking about? I asked.
I was recalling the days when I was a young girl and I was made a match, she replied.
I was so surprised; I opened my eyes wide as if a rainbow suddenly appeared before me.
With her eyes still slightly closed Granny said, when I was young matchmakers went to my home one after another. My face was so fair; I always wore a flower patterned cotton-padded coat and my waist was only two spans. My hair was beautiful, too; I always washed my hair with sesame flowers or egg whites. My plait was so thick and black that when I walked the end swayed behind my back. At the end of my plait I always tied a five-inch long bundle with a piece of red string...
What, a Granny of over eighty-years old was recalling her maiden years! I was really surprised. In fact, the old people still keep their mind young, which the youngsters cannot imagine.
Under the big green tree I went on reading The Mystery of the Universe. During my reading the wings of dusk came quietly shading the setting sun. In that moment, I almost forgot that in the courtyard there was Granny, the black dog, and me.
I continued to read my books in the courtyard as usual. One day I went to a very dull page and my eyes stayed stubbornly on a line. I raised my eyes and saw Granny sitting quietly in the sunlight with a gush of wind blowing her silver hair. I turned my wheelchair to her side and held her hands, which were coolish, soft, flabby but gentle. I asked her, do you feel bored all alone, Granny? No, I don't feel bored, she answered. I sit here as if I sit on the roadside at the edge of my home village like when I was young. Lively people are coming and going before my eyes. The day when my husband married me was very lively. My head was covered with a red head kerchief and I wore a red coat and a red skirt made of silk. That day a big cart came decorated with red silk and was pulled by a mule and two horses. It was the twelfth moon; the road was covered by thick snow. The wheels pressed two deep grooves into the ground behind my cart... Granny murmured very slowly with her harsh voice. She rai sed her head a little and in her eyes I saw she had memories lingering from a year long ago.
It suddenly came to me the awareness of another meaning of life. Once I had thought that Granny sitting in the solitude was waiting silently for her death to come and had no any expectation. I had also considered how bored and bitter she would feel in her loneliness and darkness. But, actually she was spending her days under the sunlight in so calm a mood. Before her eyes the hands of the clock turned backward. The lives of the past were coming back nearer and nearer. She found the lost years and got from them new comfort and pleasure. The real life is the life in one's memory, and the life in the memory is more vivid than it is in reality. Life lasts forever in the memory.
One day Granny fell ill and was sent to the hospital; I felt very sorry. People said that perhaps she could not get over such an illness, and perhaps she would never be back to the courtyard. When I was alone in the courtyard I always recalled the days when there had been Granny, the black dog and me. I felt lonely and sad. Everyday I asked the one who sent food to the hospital about the condition of Granny. One day someone told me that Granny could eat again, and when she opened her eyes she could clearly tell the stories of her ancestors and perhaps she would come back soon.
Granny did come back to the courtyard again and I was deeply moved by her strong vitality. I then highly valued each day I spent with her in the courtyard. Each day Granny sat there bathing in the warm sunshine and pondering over her past with her head leaned low as before.
That autumn she was visibly weakened and sat fewer and fewer hours in the courtyard. One day she told me, I knew I would come back; I must be back and wait for him at home. She said it was an autumn day, a day like today, leaves fell rustling everywhere, when my husband left early in the morning. He was a good ironsmith, and wore a coat and carried a cloth-wrapper on his back. At the door he said, you'd better not go out of the courtyard, for the baby's just a month old. When I earn money I'll surely be back. He said if he could not earn money he would be back before the end of the year. I made a new cotton coat for him, but he hasn't come back yet. Since that day I made a new cotton coat for him every autumn, but he still hasn't come back. Now, I cannot make a coat; I can't see anything, and if he comes back I cannot make out what he is really like...
I caressed Granny's hands lightly; they were very cool. A few dead leaves came whirling from the bare trees and threads of cold rain of late autumn fell from the sky. Granny suddenly shivered with cold and her hands shook a little. She said, I feel bad today. It is getting colder again, but why hasn't he come back yet? In murmuring so, tears rolled slowly down from her dim eyes.
The next day Granny was gone. People of her family said that she got up in the middle of the night and made her way to the middle of the cabinet, and rummaged out of it the coat she had made for her husband. She said it was cold, and she should go and send it to him. She then fell asleep with the coat in her arms. She looked very calm, and people said she had gone without any suffering.
That left only the black dog and me in the courtyard. It snowed heavily that winter. The white snow buried Granny's long and persevering expectations. In my obscure meditation there was often a quiet and a bit harsh voice leisurely telling a long story, which had no ending. The figure of Granny had gone with the wind, but her memory still lives on in the green leaves of life.
What can I recall when I am old with my hair silver, I asked myself.
在這裡，我期待著陌生朋友們的譯文，我願和你們一起分享漢譯英、英譯漢的快樂。