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萄藤把整个车身都覆盖了。朝北望是片山谷,山谷后面有一片栗树树林,林子后面,也就是在河的这一边,又有一座高山。在这座高山里也曾经发生过交战,只是没有成功。一到秋天,雨水就连绵而至,山上栗树的叶子掉得精光,只剩下赤裸的树枝,还有那被雨打得漆黑的树干。葡萄园中也是枯枝败叶,稀疏光秃;乡里的每一样东西都是湿润的,触目所至,一片萧瑟的秋意。雾气弥漫着河流,浮云在山涧萦绕,路上卡车驶过处泥浆飞溅,士兵们顶着湿漉漉的披肩,浑身都是烂泥;他们的来福枪也被淋湿了,每个人身前的皮带都挂着两个灰皮子弹盒,里面排满了又长又窄的六点五毫米口径的子弹,鼓鼓囊囊地盖在披肩下,他们走在路上,猛地一看,就像是一群怀胎六月的妇人。

    There were small gray motor cars that passed going very fast;usually there was an officer on the seat with the driver and more officers in the back seat.They splashed more mud than the camions even...

    我看到一辆小型的灰色摩托车飞快地驶过;就像通常那样,摩托车手负责驾驶,军官坐在车子的后座上。摩托车驶过时,比军用卡车驶过时溅起的泥点子还要多……河之歌The Song of the River河之歌William Somerset Maugham/威廉·萨默塞特·毛姆You hear it all along the river.You hear it,loud and strong,from the rowers as they urge the junk with its high stem,the mast lashed alongside,down the swift running stream.You hear it from the trackers,a more breathless chant,as they pull desperately against the current,half a dozen of them perhaps if they are taking up a sampan,a couple of hundred if they are hauling a splendid junk,its square sail set,over a rapid.On the junk a man stands amidships beating a drum incessantly to guide their efforts,and they pull with all their strength,like men possessed,bent double;and sometimes in the extremity of their travail they crawl on the ground,on all fours,like the beasts of the field.They strain,strain fiercely,against the pitiless might of the stream.The leader goes up and down the line and when he sees one who is not putting all his will into the task he brings down his split bam-boo on the naked back.Each one must do his utmost or the labour of all is vain.And still they sing a vehement,eager chant,the chant of the turbulent waters.I do not know how words can describe what there is in it of effort.It serves to express the straining heart,the breaking muscles,and at the same time the indomitable spirit of man which overcomes the pitiless force of nature.Though the rope may part and the great junk swing back,in the end the rapid will be passed;and at the close of the weary day there is the hearty meal...

    Life is too hard,too cruel,and this is final despairing protest.That is the song of the river.

    沿着整条河都可以听见歌声。它洪亮而有力度,那是船夫,他们划着木船顺流而下,船尾翘得很高,船边系着桅杆。这也许是比较急促的号子。那些纤夫拉着纤逆流而上,如果拉的是小木船,也许只要五六个人,如果拉的是要过急滩、扬着横帆的大船,就要二百多人。一个汉子站在船中央不停地击鼓助威,让他们加劲。于是他们用尽全身的力量,像着了魔似的,腰弯成两折,有时力量要全部用完了就全身趴在地上匍匐前进,就像田里的牲口。他们用力,拼命用力,对抗着水流无情的磅礴之力。领头的在纤绳前后不停地奔跑,见到有人没有用尽全力,就用竹板打他的光背。每个人都必须竭尽全力,否则就要前功尽弃。就这样他们还是唱着激昂热烈的号子,那汹涌澎湃的河水号子。我不知道用怎样的词语才能描写出这其中的拼搏,它体现除了紧绷的心弦,几乎要断裂的筋肉,同时也体现了人类以顽强的精神克服着无情的自然力。虽然绳子可能扯断,大船可能倒退,但险滩最终能通过,在结束筋疲力尽的一天之后,可以痛快地吃上一顿饱饭……生活如此艰难、如此残酷,这喊声正是最后的绝望的抗议。这就是河之歌。(未完待续)

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