布魯克林有棵樹

女孩弗蘭西來自布魯克林貧民區，母親靠做清潔工來養活全家，父親貪戀于酒精。弗蘭西和弟弟從小便靠撿破爛來換取微薄的零用錢。她熟悉每種廢品的價格，也知道如何買到完整的廉價發霉面包。然而每到周末，她都會去圖書館，她想把那里所有的書從A到Z都一一看過。星期天下午，她最愛在家里太平梯上，藏在樹蔭里看書。弗蘭西體味著成長的艱辛:家境的貧窮、同學的歧視、社會的不公……然而她始終像布魯克林的“天堂樹”一般，出身、成長于貧民區，卻奮力成長，堅毅不拔。

“There’s a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls， it makes a tree which struggles to reach the sky. It grows in 1)boarded-up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps. It grows up out of cellar 2)gratings. It is the only tree that grows out of cement. It grows lushly…survives without sun， water， and seemingly without earth. It would be considered beautiful except that there are too many of it.”

3)Serene was a word you could put to Brooklyn， New York. Especially in the summer of 1912. Somber， as a word， was better. But it did not apply to Williamsburg， Brooklyn. Prairie was lovely and Shenandoah had a beautiful sound， but you couldn’t fit those words into Brooklyn. Serene was the only word for it; especially on a Saturday afternoon in summer.

Late in the afternoon the sun 4)slanted down into the mossy yard belonging to Francie Nolan’s house， and warmed the worn wooden fence. Looking at the shafted sun， Francie had that same fine feeling that came when she recalled the poem they recited in school.

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring

pines and the 5)hemlocks，

Bearded with moss， and in garments green，

6)indistinct in the twilight，

Stand like 7)Druids of eld.

The one tree in Francie’s yard was neither a pine nor a hemlock. It had pointed leaves which grew along green switches which radiated from the bough and made a tree which looked like a lot of opened green umbrellas. Some people called it the Tree of Heaven. It grew lushly， but only in the 8)tenements districts.

You saw a small one of these trees through the iron gate leading to someone’s yard and you knew that soon that section of Brooklyn would get to be a tenement district. The tree knew. It came there first. Afterwards， poor foreigners seeped in and the quiet old 9)brownstone houses were hacked up into flats， feather beds were pushed out on the window sills to air and the Tree of Heaven flourished. That was the kind of tree it was. It liked poor people.

That was the kind of tree in Francie’s yard. Its umbrellas curled over， around and under her third-floor fire-escape. An eleven-year-old girl sitting on this fire-escape could imagine that she was living in a tree. That’s what Francie imagined every Saturday afternoon in summer.

For Francie， Saturday started with the trip to the 10)junkie. She and her brother， Neeley， like other Brooklyn kids， collected rags， paper， metal， rubber， and other junk and 11)hoarded it in locked cellar 12)bins or in boxes hidden under the bed. All week Francie walked home slowly from school with her eyes in the 13)gutter looking for tin foil from cigarette packages or chewing gum wrappers. This was melted in the lid of a jar.

“在紐約的布魯克林，長著一種樹，有人稱之為‘天堂樹’。不管它的種子落到什么地方，都會長出一棵樹來，向著天空，努力生長。這樹長在四周圍滿木籬的空場子里，或是從無人留意的垃圾堆里鉆出來。它從地下室的格柵里伸出，它也是唯一能在水泥地里長出來的樹。它長得很茂盛……能在沒有陽光、水分，甚至看起來沒有泥土的地方生長。人們大抵都會覺得它挺漂亮的——只是，這種樹太多了。”

“寧靜”這個詞用于紐約的布魯克林恰如其分。尤其是在1912年的夏天。“沉靜”這個詞大概更好些。只是對布魯克林的威廉斯堡不大合適。大草原的可愛，雪蘭多的悅耳，用于布魯克林都不合適。只能用“寧靜”這個詞，特別是在夏日的一個星期六下午。

下午的斜陽照在弗蘭西·諾蘭家爬滿苔蘚的院子里，把破舊的木籬笆曬得暖烘烘的。看著斜陽，弗蘭西心頭涌出一種美好的感覺來。這樣的感覺，她回憶起一首詩歌時也有過。