英譯《臺階》

原文作者簡介：

李森祥（1956—）：浙江衢州人。當代作家，浙江省作協的專業作家。1975年入伍，曾在嘉興軍分區某部工作，少校。李森祥的小說以農村、軍營量大生活為主要題材，塑造出一系列生動的普通人尤其是農民的質樸形象。《臺階》一文通過敘述父親建造高臺階的過程，表現了父親為實現理想而不懈追求，與命運搏斗的精神。同時，也反映出父親那輩農民為提高地位，贏得尊重，付出了巨大的代價。同時也表達了作者對父親身上的優秀品質的敬仰和贊嘆；以及億萬農民渴望提高生產力，結束農村落后狀況的心聲，回蕩著時代召喚的主旋律。

《臺階》原文

父親總覺得我們家的臺階低。

我們家的臺階有三級，用三塊青石板鋪成。那石板多年前由父親從山上背下來，每塊大約有三百來斤重。那個石匠笑著為父親托在肩膀上，說是能一口氣背到家，不收石料錢。結果父親一下子背了三趟，還沒覺得花了太大的力氣。只是那一來一去的許多山路，磨破了他一雙麻筋草鞋，父親感到太可惜。

那石板沒經石匠光面，就鋪在家門口。多年來，風吹雨淋，人踩牛踏，終于光滑了些，但磨不平那一顆顆硬幣大的小凹。臺階上積了水時，從堂里望出去，有許多小亮點。天若放晴，穿堂風一吹，青石板比泥地干得快，父親又用竹絲掃把掃了，石板上青幽幽的，寬敞陰涼，由不得人不去坐一坐，躺一躺。母親坐在門檻上干活，我就被安置在青石板上。母親說我那時好乖，我乖得坐坐就知道趴下來，用手指抓青石板，劃出細細的沙沙聲，我就癡癡地笑。我流著一大串涎水，張嘴在青石板上啃，結果啃了一嘴泥沫子。

再大些，我就喜歡站在那條青石門檻上往臺階上跳。先是跳一級臺階，蹦、蹦、蹦！后來，我就跳二級臺階，蹦、蹦！再后來，我跳三級臺階，蹦！又覺得從上往下跳沒意思，便調了個頭，從下往上跳，啪、啪、啪！后來，又跳二級，啪、啪！再后來，又跳三級，啪！我想一步跳到門檻上，但摔了一大跤。父親拍拍我后腦勺說，這樣是會吃苦頭的！

父親的個子高，他覺得坐在臺階上很舒服。父親把屁股坐在最高的一級上，兩只腳板就擱在最低的一級。他的腳板寬大，裂著許多干溝，溝里嵌著沙子和泥土。父親的這雙腳是洗不干凈的，他一般都去河里洗，拖著一雙濕了的草鞋唿嗒唿嗒地走回來。大概到了過年，父親才在家里洗一次腳。那天，母親就特別高興，親自為他端了一大木盆水。盆水冒著熱氣，父親就坐在臺階上很耐心地洗。因為沙子多的緣故，父親要了個板刷刷拉刷拉地刷。后來父親的腳終于洗好了，終于洗出了腳的本色，卻也是黃幾幾的，是泥土的顏色。我為他倒水，倒出的是一盆泥漿，木盆底上還積了一層沙。父親說洗了一次干凈的腳，覺得這腳輕飄飄的沒著落，踏在最硬實的青石板上也像踩在棉花上似的。

我們家的臺階低！父親又像是對我，又像是自言自語地感嘆。這句話他不知說了多少遍。

在我們家鄉，住家門口總有臺階，高低不盡相同，從二三級到十幾級的都有。家鄉地勢低，屋基做高些，不大容易進水。另外還有一說，臺階高，屋主人的地位就相應高。鄉鄰們在一起常常戲稱：你們家的臺階高！言外之意，就是你們家有地位啊。

父親老實厚道低眉順眼累了一輩子，沒人說過他有地位，父親也從沒覺得自己有地位。但他日夜盼著，準備著要造一棟有高臺階的新屋。

The Steps

My father always felt that the steps in front of our house were too low.

The three-stair steps in front of our house are paved with three bluestones，which were carried here by my father from the mountain years ago，each weighing more than 150 kilograms. The mason，who helped put the slates on my father’s shoulder smilingly，said that if my father carried the slates direct home without a stop，they would be free of charge. Consequently，my father went back and forth for three times without feeling much fatigue，but he seemed to feel a lot of pity for wearing out his hemp straw sandals.

The slates were laid unpolished on the floor in front of our house. For the past years，it became somewhat smooth after undergoing wind and rain as well as being trodden by people and cattle，though the coin-like concave grindings on the surface were about the same. When the steps were waterlogged，you could see many tiny bright spots through the halls. If it cleared up and the wind freely blew through the rooms，the bluestone steps would dry out faster than the soil ground. After father swept them with bamboo brooms，the slates were blue and quiet，wide and cool，so much so that they lured people to take a sit or lie down on it. And when my mother was sitting on the threshold and working，I was placed on the steps. She said I was such a good boy that I knew to lie down to grasp the slates with my nails and senselessly laugh after siting for a few moments. I dribbled a lot and gnawed the slates，as a result，only to have my mouth filled with sand.

When I grow older，I would stand on the threshold of the bluestone to jump onto the steps. At first，I jumped step by step，“Bang！ Bang！ Bang！” Then，I did two steps each time “Bang Bang！” Later，I jumped three steps，“Bang！” However，I soon felt it boring to jump down the steps，so I turned about and jumped from the bottom，“Pop！ Pop！ Pop！” Later，I jumped two steps “Pop！ Pop！” and then three steps at one go “Pop！” I wanted to jump onto the threshold at one try，but I fell down heavily. Father patted me on the back of the head and said that I would suffer a great deal.

My father was very tall，so it was comfortable for him to sit on the steps. When he sat on the top step，his feet were put on the lowest level. Father’s feet were big and there were many dry wrinkles in his wide feet，which embedded sand and clay. Father couldn’t wash his feet clean at home，so he usually went to the river to wash and then went back with a pair of wet straw sandals. Probably only in the Spring Festival my father would wash his feet at home. On that day，my mother would be particularly pleased and bring him some water in the wooden basin personally. As the water gave off hot air，father sat on the steps washing his feet with great patience. There being a lot of sands in his feet，he would use a scrub brush to remove them. Eventually，his feet were washed thoroughly，but they were still yellow，almost the color of mud. I poured water for him，which，in fact，was a basin of mud rather than a basin of water and a layer of sand was left on the bottom！ Father told me that he felt his feet so drifting and floating as if he was stepping on the cotton after he washed his feet clean.

“The steps of our house are too low！ “ Father seemingly said to me and seemingly to himself. He was always repeating it.

In our hometown，there are always steps in front of the houses with stairs varying from two or three to a dozen. It’s said that the steps on a high groundsill would help prevent flood into the house，as the whole areas are low-lying. There is also another popular saying which goes that if the steps are high，the status of the owner is correspondingly high. The neighbours often play jokes on each other “You have high steps for your house”，which means your family really enjoys high status.

Honestly and obediently，my father live in this way all his life，and he never felt he was somebody since nobody has ever really said that. What he looked forward to day and night is to building a new house with high steps.