好的故事 The Good Story

燈火漸漸地縮小了，在預吿石油的已經不多；The lamp flame was gradually shrinking, signaling that the kerosene was running low;石油又不是老牌，早熏得燈罩很昏暗。Besides, the kerosene was not a good brand, and had long since smoked the lampshade dim.鞭爆的繁響在四近，煙草的煙霧在身邊：是昏沈的夜。The dense crackle of firecrackers sounded all around, tobacco smoke hung close by: it was a heavy, drowsy night.

灯火渐渐地缩小了，在预吿石油的已经不多；石油又不是老牌，早熏得灯罩很昏暗。鞭爆的繁响在四近，烟草的烟雾在身边：是昏沈的夜。

我閉了眼睛，向後一仰，靠在椅背上；I closed my eyes, leaned back, and rested against the back of the chair;��着『初學記』的手擱在膝髁上。the hand holding the Chuxue Ji lay upon my knee.

我闭了眼睛，向后一仰，靠在椅背上；𪮆着『初学记』的手搁在膝髁上。

我在朦朧中，看見一個好的故事。In my drowsiness, I saw a good story.

我在朦胧中，看见一个好的故事。

這故事很美麗，幽雅，有趣。This story was beautiful, elegant, and delightful.許多美的人和美的事，錯綜起來像一天雲錦，而且萬颗奔星似的飛動着，同時又展開去，以至於無窮。Many beautiful people and beautiful things, interwoven like a sky of cloud-brocade, flew and darted like ten thousand racing stars, and at the same time unfurled outward, on and on without end.

这故事很美丽，幽雅，有趣。许多美的人和美的事，错综起来像一天云锦，而且万颗奔星似的飞动着，同时又展开去，以至于无穷。

我彷佛記得曾坐小船經過山陰道，兩岸邊的烏桕、新禾、野花、雞、狗，叢樹和枯樹，茅屋，塔，伽藍，農夫和村婦、村女，曬着的衣裳，和尙、簑笠、天、雲、竹、……I seemed to remember once taking a small boat along the Shanyin road, and on both banks the tallow trees, the new rice shoots, wild flowers, chickens, dogs, clusters of trees and withered trees, thatched huts, pagodas, temples, farmers and village wives, village girls, clothes hung out to dry, monks, straw rain-capes, the sky, clouds, bamboo, ……都倒影在澄碧的小河中，隨着每一打槳，各各夾帶了閃爍的日光，幷水裏的萍藻游魚，一同蕩漾。were all reflected in the clear green little river, and with every stroke of the oar, each of them, carrying glinting sunlight along with the duckweed, algae, and swimming fish in the water, rippled together.諸影諸物：無不解散，而且搖動，擴大，互相融和；All those reflections and things: every one dissolved, and moreover swayed, expanded, and merged into one another;剛一融和，卻又退縮，復近於原形。and just as they merged, they would draw back again, returning close to their original shapes.邊緣都參差如夏雲頭，鑲着日光，發出水銀色燄。Their edges were all jagged like the crests of summer clouds, rimmed with sunlight, giving off a mercury-colored flame.凡是我所經過的河，都是如此。Every river I had ever passed was like this.

我彷佛记得曾坐小船经过山阴道，两岸边的乌桕、新禾、野花、鸡、狗，丛树和枯树，茅屋，塔，伽蓝，农夫和村妇、村女，晒着的衣裳，和尙、蓑笠、天、云、竹、……都倒影在澄碧的小河中，随着每一打桨，各各夹带了闪烁的日光，并水里的萍藻游鱼，一同荡漾。诸影诸物：无不解散，而且摇动，扩大，互相融和；刚一融和，却又退缩，复近于原形。边缘都参差如夏云头，镶着日光，发出水银色燄。凡是我所经过的河，都是如此。

現在我所見的故事也如此。And the story I now saw was the same.水中的靑天的底子，一切事物统在上面交錯，織成一篇，永是生動，永是展開，我看不見這一篇的結束。Against the ground of the blue sky in the water, all things interlaced upon it, weaving themselves into a single piece, forever vivid, forever unfurling — I could not see where this piece came to an end.

现在我所见的故事也如此。水中的靑天的底子，一切事物统在上面交错，织成一篇，永是生动，永是展开，我看不见这一篇的结束。

河邊枯柳樹下的幾枝瘦削的一丈紅，該是村女種的罷。By the river, beneath a withered willow, a few slender stalks of hollyhock must have been planted by a village girl.大紅花和斑紅花，都在水裏面浮動，忽而碎散，拉長了，縷縷的胭脂水，然而没有暈。The great red blossoms and the mottled red blossoms both floated on the water, now suddenly breaking into fragments, now stretching long, threads of rouge-colored water, yet without any blurring halo.茅屋、狗、塔、村女、雲、……The thatched hut, the dog, the pagoda, the village girl, the clouds, ……也都浮動着。were all floating too.大紅花一朶朶全被拉長了，這時是潑剌奔迸的紅錦帶。The great red blossoms, one by one, were all stretched long, and now became a vigorous, bursting band of red brocade.帶織入狗中，狗織入白雲中，白雲織入村女中。……The band wove into the dog, the dog wove into the white clouds, the white clouds wove into the village girl. ……在一瞬间，他們又將退縮了。In an instant, they would draw back again.但斑紅花影也已碎散，伸長，就要織进塔、村女、狗、茅屋、雲裏去。But the reflection of the mottled red blossoms had already broken apart and stretched out, about to weave itself into the pagoda, the village girl, the dog, the thatched hut, the clouds.

河边枯柳树下的几枝瘦削的一丈红，该是村女种的罢。大红花和斑红花，都在水里面浮动，忽而碎散，拉长了，缕缕的胭脂水，然而没有晕。茅屋、狗、塔、村女、云、……也都浮动着。大红花一朶朶全被拉长了，这时是泼剌奔迸的红锦带。带织入狗中，狗织入白云中，白云织入村女中。……在一瞬间，他们又将退缩了。但斑红花影也已碎散，伸长，就要织进塔、村女、狗、茅屋、云里去。

現在我所見的故事淸楚起來了，美麗，幽雅，有趣，而且光明。Now the story I saw grew clear — beautiful, elegant, delightful, and bright.靑天上面，有無數美的人和美的故事，我一一看見，一一知道。Above the blue sky were countless beautiful people and beautiful stories; I saw them one by one, knew them one by one.

现在我所见的故事淸楚起来了，美丽，幽雅，有趣，而且光明。靑天上面，有无数美的人和美的故事，我一一看见，一一知道。

我就要凝視他們。……。I was just about to gaze at them fixedly. ……。

我就要凝视他们。……。

我正要凝視他們時，驟然一驚，睜開眼，雲錦也已皺蹙，凌亂，彷佛有誰擲一塊大石下河水中，水波陡然起立，將整篇的影子撕成片片了。Just as I was about to gaze at them, I gave a sudden start, opened my eyes, and the cloud-brocade had already crumpled and gone into disarray, as if someone had flung a great stone into the river, and the water waves had abruptly reared up, tearing the whole piece of reflection into shreds.我無意識地趕忙��住幾乎墜地的『初學記，』眼前還賸着幾點虹霓色的碎影。Unconsciously I hurried to grasp the Chuxue Ji, which was on the verge of falling to the ground; before my eyes there still remained a few fragments of rainbow-colored reflection.

我正要凝视他们时，骤然一惊，睁开眼，云锦也已皱蹙，凌乱，彷佛有谁掷一块大石下河水中，水波陡然起立，将整篇的影子撕成片片了。我无意识地赶忙𪮆住几乎坠地的『初学记，』眼前还賸着几点虹霓色的碎影。

我眞愛這一篇好的故事，趁碎影還在，我要追回他，完成他，留下他。I truly loved this good story, and while the fragmentary reflections still remained, I wanted to chase it back, complete it, keep it.我抛了書，欠身伸手去取筆，——何嘗有一絲碎影，只見昏暗的燈光，我不在小船裏了。I threw down the book, leaned forward and reached out my hand for a pen — but there was not the slightest fragment of reflection left; I saw only the dim lamplight — I was no longer in the little boat.

我真爱这一篇好的故事，趁碎影还在，我要追回他，完成他，留下他。我抛了书，欠身伸手去取笔，——何尝有一丝碎影，只见昏暗的灯光，我不在小船里了。

但我總記得見過這一篇好的故事，在昏沈的夜……。But I still remember having seen this good story, on that heavy, drowsy night……。

但我总记得见过这一篇好的故事，在昏沈的夜……。

（一九二五年二月二十四日。）(February 24, 1925.)