praying. I remember her most often at prayer. She made long, rambling prayers out of suffering and hope, having seen many things. I was never sure that I had the right to hear, so exclusive were they of all mere custom and company. The last time I saw her she prayed standing by the side of her bed at night, naked to the waist, the light of a kerosene lamp moving upon her dark skin. Her long, black hair, always drawn and braided in the day, lay upon her shoulders and against her breasts like a shawl. I do not speak Kiowa, and I never understood her prayers, but there was something inherently sad in the sound, some merest hesitation upon the syllables of sorrow. She began in a high and descending pitch, exhausting her breath to silence; then again and again—and always the same intensity of effort, of something that is, and is not, like urgency in the human voice. Transported so in the dancing light among the shadows of her room, she seemed beyond the reach of time. But that was illusion; I think I knew then that I should not see her again.
我记忆最多的就是祈祷中的她。由于一生中见过太多事情而产生了痛苦和希望的情绪，于是她总是做长时间的、不连贯的祷吿。我从不确定我有权利听她祷告，这些祷告从不按照那些纯粹的习俗进行。我最后一次见到她是在一个晚上，她正站在床边祷告，上身赤裸，煤油灯光在她黝黑的皮肤上晃动。她那白天里总是拢起或编成辫子的长长的黑发如今像披肩一样散落在肩膀上，垂在胸前。我不会说克尔瓦语，因此从来也听不懂她的祷告，但是我能听出她的声音里固有的悲伤和悲伤的音节中流露的某种迟疑。她以一种高亢的、逐渐递减的声调开始，竭尽全身力气，直到最后减不出声音来；然后一次又一次——总是用同样强烈的力度，有时像有时又不像人类声音中急促的感觉。她对房间阴影里眺跃的灯光欣喜若狂，她看起来已经摆脱了时间的控制。但是那只是幻觉，那时我就知道我不会再见到她了。
Houses are like sentinels in the plain, old keepers of the weather watch. There, in a very little while, wood takes on the appearance of great age. All colors wear soon away in the wind and rain, and then the wood is burned gray and the grain appears and the nails turn red with rust. The windowpanes are black and opaque; you imagine there is nothing within, and indeed there are many ghosts, bones given up to the land. They stand here and there against the sky, and you approach them for a longer time than you expect. They belong in the distance; it is their domain.
房屋就像平原上的哨兵，是监测天气的古老的守卫者。在那里，在很短的时间里树木就会显得老态龙钟。所有的颜色不久就会在风雨的洗礼中褪掉，然后树木被烤成灰色，出现粗糙的纹理，钉子由于生锈而变红。窗户玻璃黑暗不透光；你会想象窗户里面什么都没有，但是其实有许多魔鬼和埋于地下的尸骨。他们站在各个地方挡住天空，你接近他们所用的时间比你想象的要长。他们属于远方，那是他们的领地。
评论
打印
