窗

Two men， both seriously ill， occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain[排干] the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end[連續地]. They spoke of their wives and families， their homes， their jobs， their involvement in the military service[兵役]， where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up， he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened[使生動] by all the activities and colors of the outside world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake， the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape， and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite[雅致的] detail， the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque[優美的] scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band， he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly， an alien thought entered his head： “Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything？ It didn’t seem fair.” As the thought fermented[發酵]， the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights， his envy eroded[腐蝕] into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood[沉思] and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window-and that thought now controlled his life.

Late one night， as he lay staring at the ceiling， the man by the window began to cough. He was choking[使窒息] on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly-lit room as the struggling man by the window groped[摸索] for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room， he never moved， never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes， the coughing and choking stopped， along with the sound of breathing. Now， there was only silence-deathly silence.

The following morning， the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window， she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away-no words， no fuss[大驚小怪]. As soon as it seemed appropriate[合適的]， the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable， she left him alone.

Slowly， painfully， he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. Finally， he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained[拉緊] to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

醫院的同一間病房里住著兩個病重的男人。其中一個男人每天有一小時的時間能在床上坐起身子，以便排出肺臟里的積水。他的病床緊靠著房間唯一的窗戶。而另一個男人則要一直平躺在床上。

兩個男人會連續聊上好幾個小時。他們聊自己的妻子和家庭，房子和工作，也會談論服兵役的經歷以及去過哪里度假。每天下午，當病床靠窗的男人可以坐起身時，他就會向房友描述自己透過窗戶看到的東西，消磨時光。

另一張病床的男人期盼著那一小時的到來，外面世界的各種活動和多姿多彩能拓寬他的世界，讓它生動起來。那個男人說，窗戶能俯瞰到一個有著漂亮小湖的公園。水鴨和天鵝在水里嬉戲，小孩們則操控他們的模型飛艇在湖面航行。情侶們把臂徜徉于彩虹般色彩斑斕的鮮花叢中。巨大的老樹為景致增添姿色，遠處還能看見城市地平線的美好景象。窗邊的男人用細膩雅致的細節描繪這一切的時候，房間另一頭的男人總會閉上眼睛，想象這一獨特美景。

在一個溫暖的下午，窗邊的男人描述了一隊路過的游行隊伍。盡管另外一個男人沒有聽見樂隊的奏樂聲，但聽著窗邊男人細致的描繪，他能通過內心的眼睛看到這一切。突然間，一個奇怪的想法躍進他的腦海：“為什么他能幸福地看見所有景象，而我卻看不到這些東西？……