在國內時﹐舊書店裡買到一本中英對照的“浮生六記”。英文部份是林博士翻譯的。
對照閱讀後﹐覺得除了一個地方外﹐其餘翻譯得都很到位。這處的中文原文可能是
“促膝談心”。記不太清了。林的譯文可能是 had a heart-to-heart talk in her
womanly manner. 後麵的介詞短語記得很清楚。當時我想﹐既然原文是“促膝”﹐
何不譯成 with knees against knees﹐不就到位了嗎﹖所以﹐翻譯要精益求精是不
容易的。
說到“浮生六記”﹐真是情文並茂﹐感人至深。當時就寫了篇文言的讀後感。錄如
下﹕
《浮生六記》延陵氏後序
渺乎其遙哉﹗天道悠悠﹐莫之能窺。慨世事蒼黃﹐浮生若夢。悲江水長逝﹐雪鴻無
蹤。孤雁哀鳴﹐白首難期。夭桃摧絕﹐紅顏命乖。海棠麗質﹐遭風雨之妒嫉。萍草
無根﹐歷漂泊之艱辛。方魚水之相得﹐效鸞鳳而於飛﹔詎料連理枝折﹐堪嘆魂夢難
接。何物造化﹐播弄眾生。既生佳人情重﹐才子意長﹔不與良辰久享﹐美景共賞。
窮困潦倒﹐誰言大任將降﹖淚枯心瘦﹐豈是淑閣情暢﹖自古好事多磨﹐天意難問﹔
蒼皮百圍﹐地力虛載。篷瀛無路﹐玄海有邊。和靖安在﹐嗣宗往矣。傷伊人之玉隕﹐
徒留佳話。哀蕙蘭之香消﹐豈忍卒讀。數言未盡﹐筆灑墨淚。四韻吟成﹐聲轉哀咽。
詩雲﹕
淡月搖寒焰﹐涼風透素衣。秋侵人影瘦﹐霜染菊花肥。
悲去鴛衾冷﹐啼來杜宇悽。泉台冥路斷﹐何處芳魂歸﹖
下麵是本人譯文﹕
Postword of Yanlingshi on "Six Chapters of Floating Life"
So far, far away! Providence is at a tremendous distance; no one can learn
its will. I sigh for world events so changeable and the floating life like
a dream. I grieve for the river water flowing away forever and wild geese
gone without leaving any trace on snow Like a bereft goose crying so melancholy,
her life mate can't live till their hair grows white. Like pretty peach
blooms being destroyed, the fate of the beauty is so lamentable. The Chinese
crabapple is so delicate and suffers from the envy of winds and rains.
The duckweed is rootless and so experiences all hardship of floating and
roaming. Just as they get along like fish in water or like phoenixes flying
side by side, unexpectedly, however, the intertwined boughs of twin trees
are broken and they sigh for being unable even to meet in dreams. What
is Heaven that plays tricks on humans? Now that the fair lady is born with
deep love and the man of letters with pure affection, why not let them enjoy
good time forever and view beautiful scenery together? Who said that a man
in poverty and destitution is destined for great tasks? Should the affection
of a lady end in her tears running dry and her heart becoming lean? Since
the ancient time, good things always undergo tribulations. It's difficult
to ask Heaven why they should be as they are. Old black tree bark with the
circumference of a hundred feet, the ground supports it in vain. There's
no way to Pengying, but the Bitter Sea has bounds. Where is Hejing now?
And Sizong is long gone. I mourn for the death of the lady; her story remains,
but what's the use? I grieve that she died like the orchid withering with
no more fragrance left. I cannot bear to finish her story. When these words
have not expressed what I have to say, my pen is dripping with tears of
ink. As I finish the writing of the eight lines, my voice in chanting becomes
melancholy. My poem goes as follows:
The flame of the candle sways in the pale moonlight;
The cool wind permeates her thin dress.
Autumn intrudes and her shadow gets meager;
Frost dyes the chrysanthemum so fat
As she's sadly gone, the quilts are left cold.
And cuckoo's cry sounds so sorrowful.
Since the gloomy road to Hades discontinued,
Where does her sweet ghost return to?
