赫伯特作品

董繼平

笑語宮

一個秋千，一次旋轉，一個射擊場——這些是普通人的娛樂。敏銳的才智，反映的本質偏愛這笑語宮。它高尚而秘密的意圖，就是要為我們作最壞的準備。這里，在一面鏡子中，我們那從輪子上取下來的身體得到了展示——碎骨的一只變形的麻袋，在另一只麻袋里，是我們那在空氣中漫長地晾干后，從肉鉤上取下來的身體。

拜訪笑語宮。拜訪笑語宮。這是生活的門廳，這是苦難的接待室。

THE PALACE OF LAUGHTER

A swing， a whirlabout， a shooting gallery —— these are the amusements of common people. Subtle intellects， reflective natures prefer the Palace of Laughter. Its lofty and secret purpose is to prepare us for the worst. Here in one mirror is shown our body taken down from the wheel —— a misshapen sack of broken bones， in another our body taken down from the meat-hook after a long dry distillation in the air.

Visit the Palace of Laughter. Visit the Palace of Laughter. This is the vestibule of life， the anteroom of torture.

一個戰士的生平

他站在房間的門檻上，屋里，躺著他那像一條蠶裹在蠟一般的沉默中死去的父親。

他依附于咆哮，在咆哮上面攀登得越來越高，因為他知道沉默意味著死亡。有著平頭釘的靴子的節奏，橋上的馬蹄聲—— 一個輕騎兵的藍色綁腿。當火槍手行軍進入一片煙云時，鼓聲的雷霆—— 一個軍官的銀劍。大炮的咆哮，大地像一面鼓呻吟—— 一個陸軍元帥的三角形軍帽。

因此，當他死去，他的士兵想要他通過喧嘩的梯子登天。一百座鐘塔搖動鎮子。在鎮子蕩到最接近天空的時刻，炮手們開火。但他們不能削下足夠的藍色的釉，悄悄塞進那配著劍和三角形軍帽的陸軍元帥。

現在，他再次松弛而墜落到大地的臉上。他忠實的士兵們把他拾起來，再次對天空開火。

LIFE OF A WARRIOR

He stood on the threshold of the room in which lay his dead father wrapped like a silkworm in waxen silence —— and shouted. Thats how it began.

He clung to the roar and climbed upon it higher and higher， for he knew that silence means death. Rhythm of hob-nailed boots， hoof-beats on a bridge —— blue galligaskins of a hussar. Thunder of drums as musketeers march into a cloud of smoke —— silver sword of an officer. Roar of cannon， the earth groans like a drum —— triangular shako of a field-marshal.

Thus， when he died， his faithful soldiers want him to ascend to heaven by the ladder of tumult. A hundred bell-towers rocked the town. At the moment when the town swings closest to the sky， the gunners fire. But they are unable to chip off enough blue glaze to slip in the field-marshal complete with his sword and triangular shako.

Now he comes loose again and falls on the face of the earth. His faithful soldiers pick him up and once again fire at the sky.

絞衣機

審問官就在我們當中。他們生活在巨大的經濟公寓地下室里，只有那“絞衣機在此”的商店招牌泄露他們的存在。

有著曲折的青銅色肌肉的桌子，有力的滾筒，緩慢然而準確地擠壓，一只主動輪，不知道憐憫——在等待我們。

他們從絞衣店拿出來的床單，就像女巫和異教徒那空蕩蕩的尸體。

WRINGER

The inquisitors are in our midst. They live in the basements of huge tenement houses and only the shop-sign W R I N G E R H E RE betrays their presence.

Tables with fexed bronze muscles， powerful rollers， crushing slowly but with precin， a driving wheel， which knows no mercy —— are waiting for us.

The bed-sheets which they carry out of the wringer shop， are like empty bodies of witches and heretics.

出自淚水的技術

在我們的知識目前的狀態中，只有虛假的淚水適合于處理和有規律的生產。真正的淚水是熱的，因為這個緣故，很難把它們從面龐上移走。在它們縮小成固體狀態后，就證明了它們極其脆弱。商業性開發真正的淚水的問題，就成了技術人員真正的頭痛。

既然虛假的淚水本質不純，那么它們在迅速凍結前就被提交給蒸餾過程，而且隨著對純潔的尊重而被縮小成一種狀態，在那種狀態之中，它們幾乎不亞于真正的淚水。它們非常堅硬，非常耐用，因此不僅適合于裝飾品，而且還適合于切割玻璃。

FROM THE TECHNOLOGY OF TEARS

In our present state of knowledge only false tears are suitable for treatment and regular production. Genuine tears are hot， for which reason it is very difficult to remove them from the face. After their reduction to a solid state， they have proved to be extremely fragile. The problem of commercially exploiting genuine tears is a real headache for technologists.

False tears before being quick-frozen are submitted to a process of distillation， since they are by nature impure， and they are reduced to a state in which， with respect to purity， they are hardly inferior to genuine tears. They are very hard， very durable and thus are suitable not only for ornamentation but also for cutting glass.

一個俄羅斯故事

我們的小父親沙皇已經老了，很老了。他現在甚至都不能用手絞死一只鴿子。他坐在王位上，顯得金光燦燦而又呆板。只有他的胡子生長，更遠地生長到下面的地板上。

然后，某個別的人來統治，不知道是誰。好奇的民眾透過窗戶窺視宮里，但克里沃諾索夫用絞刑架擋住窗戶。因此只有被絞死的人才能看見一切。

最后沙皇我們的小父親永遠死了。喪鐘敲了又敲。然而他們并沒有把他的尸體抬出來。我們的沙皇與王位融為一體。王位的腿與沙皇的腿完全融為一體，他的手臂與扶手融為一體。不可能把他扯下來了。就把沙皇與黃金王位一起埋葬吧——多遺憾啊。

A RUSSIAN TALE

The tsar our little father had grown old， very old. Now he could not even strangle a dove with his own hands. Sitting on his throne he was golden and frigid. Only his beard grew， down to the floor and farther.

Then someone else ruled， it was not known who. Curious folk peeped into the palace through the windows but Krivonosov screened the windows with gibbets. Thus only the hanged saw anything.

In the end the tsar our little father died for good. The bells rang and rang， yet they did not bring his body out. Our tsar bad grown into the throne. The legs of the throne had become all mixed up with the legs of the tsar. His arm and the armrest were one. It was impossible to tear him loose. And to bury the tsar along with the golden throne —— what a shame.

皇帝的夢

一道裂縫！皇帝在睡夢中大叫，鴕鳥的羽毛篷冠顫抖。在走廊上來對踱步的士兵拔劍出鞘，相信皇帝夢見了一場圍困。他剛才看見了墻上有一道裂縫，想要他們闖入堡壘。

實際上，皇帝現在是一只地鱉，快速掠過地板，尋找殘湯剩羹。突然，他看見頭上有一只巨大的腳正要踏碎它。皇帝尋找一道裂縫擠進去。地板平坦而滑溜。

是的。皇帝們的夢再普通不過了。

THE EMPERORS DREAM

A crevice！ shouts the Emperor in his sleep， and the canopy of ostrich plumes trembles. The soldiers who pace the corridors with unsheathed swords believe the Emperor dreams about a siege. Just now he saw a fissure in the wall and wants them to break into the fortress.

In fact the Emperor is now a wood-louse who scurries across the floor， seeking remnants of food. Suddenly he sees overhead an immense foot about to crush him. The Emperor hunts for a crevice in which to squeeze. The floor is smooth and slippery.

Yes. Nothing is more ordinary than the dreams of Emperors.