Loren Eiseley - Lesson of the Gull（双语）

Lesson of the Gull

海鸥的启示

Loren Eiseley

洛伦·艾斯利

I have walked much to the sea, not knowing what I seek. The west headland I visit is always boiling, even on calm days. Spume leaps up from the sea caverns of buried reefs and the blue and purple of the turbulent waters are roiled and twisted with clashing and opposed currents. I go there frequently and sit for hours on an old whiskey crate half-buried in the sand.

我常常到海边，不知道自己欲何所求。我爱去的西岬角总是波涛翻滚，即使在无风的日子也不平静。泡沫从水下暗礁的洞穴中涌起，激流互碰，湍波相撞，使那片澎湃的紫蓝色海水涡旋涛腾。我经常去那片海滩，在一个半截埋进沙里的威士忌包装箱上坐上几小时。

Staring into those uncertain and treacherous waters with their unexpected and lifting apparitions is like looking into the future. You can see its forces constantly gathering, expending themselves, streaming away and streaming back. The meaning escapes one, but day after day the harpy gulls scream and mew over it and the crabs scuttle along its edge, waving threatening pincers.

凝视那片变化无常、波谲浪诡的水域，凝视其形态莫测、不断涌腾的幻象，就好像是在窥视未来。你会看见海水的力量不断聚集，忽而骇浪冲天，忽而惊涛拍岸，不停地消耗着自己。世人看不出这其中的意蕴，但日复一日，银鸥尖声呼啸着翱翔在水面，螃蟹挥舞着螯足疾行于海滩。

But I wander.

而我爱在海边徘徊。

On one occasion, there was just this broken crate in the sand, myself, and the sea – and then this other. I first encountered him when I had ventured at low tide up to the verge of the reef beyond which burst that leaping, spouting thunder I had come to conceive of as containing the future. As I reached the flat, slippery stones which passed a constant surf, I saw a grey wing tilt upward and move a few feet farther on.

曾有一天，那里只有我、大海和那个半截埋进沙子的破木箱——另外就是它。我最初与它相遇时正值退潮，当时我冒险踏上那片礁岩的边缘，而礁岩前方正迸发出那种波汹涛涌的轰鸣，那种我已开始将其想象为包含着未来的轰鸣。当踏上那滩被海浪不断冲刷、平坦而光滑的礁岩时，我看见一只灰色的翅膀向上倾斜，扑棱着朝远处挪动了几呎。

It was a big gray-backed gull, who slid quietly down again amidst the encrusted sea growth. He moved just enough, out of old and wise judgment, to keep me at arm’s length, no more. He was no longer, with his kind, hovering over the outer rock masses of a dubious future. He had a space of his own on the last edge of the present. He fed there upon such things as the sea brought. He was old and he rested, if one could be said to rest beside such waters.

那是只硕大的灰背鸥。它悄无声息地向下挪回到一片表面已变硬的苔藻之中。出于其鸟情练达，它挪动得恰到好处，拒我正好一臂之遥。它不再和同类一道翱翔于礁岩之外那片属于一种不定未来的天空。它在属于现在的时空边缘有自己的一方栖身之地。它以大海冲上岸的食物为生。它老了，在安度晚年，如果在险礁恶浪边苟活也可叫安度晚年的话。

I disturbed him once by coming closer, whereupon he rose and tilted slightly in the blast from over the reef. If I did not move, neither did he. Since I am not one to go rushing over dangerous crevices, we achieved, after some days, a dignified relationship. We were both grey. We stood or sat a little apart and ignored each other, being, after all, creatures diverse.

有次我靠得近了点儿，惊扰了它，于是它直起身来，迎着刮过礁岩的海风微倾着身子。一旦我停下脚步，它也就地蹲下。因为我并非敢跨越那些岩缝的冒险者，所以几天之后，我和它之间建立起了一种相互尊重的关系。我俩都老成持重，或立或坐都保持着一小段距离，互不干扰，毕竟我们种属不同。

Every morning when I came he was there. He was growing thinner, but he still flew at my coming and hovered low upon his great seagoing wings. Then I would seek my box and he would swoop back to the little space that contained his last of life. I came to look for this bird as though we shared some sane, enormously simple secret amidst a little shingle of hard stones and broken beach.

我每天早晨去海边时，它都在那儿。它一天比一天消瘦，但它仍然飞起来迎我，展开那双曾翱翔长空的宽大翅膀低低地盘旋一周。然后我总是找到我那个破木箱坐下，而它也总是飞回那块包容它生命最后时光的小小空间。我渐渐地开始期待看见这只海鸟，仿佛在那片铺满乱石、凹凸不平的海滩上，我俩分享了某种合乎情理而又极其简单的秘密。

After several days he was gone. I shied a stone uncertainly toward the still-spouting future. Nothing came of it, no shape emerged. The only rational shape had been that aged gull, too knowing to venture more than tilting wing’s length upward in such air. Finally, the extremest edge of his space had hesitantly touched mine. Neither of us had much farther to go, and the harsh simplicity of it was somehow appropriate and gratifying. A little salt-washed rock had contained us both.

几天后它死了。我漫无目的地朝那仍在喷涌的未来扔出一块卵石。没有什么来自未来，没有任何幻象出现。唯一合理的幻象曾是那只年迈的海鸥，那只因历经风浪而不再冒险、只倾斜着翅膀在低空扑棱的海鸥。最终，它那块空间的边缘若即若离地与我的空间交接。我俩都无需再远行，而不知何故，这个残酷而简单的事实既恰如其分又令人惬意。一小块被海水冲刷的礁岩曾接纳过我和那只海鸥。

Here, I thought, is where I shall abide my ending, in the mind at least. Here where the sea grinds coral and bones alike to pebbles, and the crabs come in the night for the recent dead. Here where everything is transmuted and transmutes, but all is living or about to live.

我想，至少在我心底，这里就是我等待死亡的地方。在这儿，大海把珊瑚和骸骨都磨成卵石，螃蟹趁夜色觅食刚死去的鱼虾。在这儿，万物都会被嬗变或会嬗变，但一切都在生存或即将生存。

（曹明伦 译）