高中生外国小说欣赏选修课程《桥边的老人》中英文对照阅读素材

《桥边的老人》中英文比较
【美】海明威
一个戴钢丝边眼镜的老人坐在路旁，衣服上尽是灰尘。

河上搭着一座浮桥，大车、卡车、男人、女人和孩子们在涌过桥去。

骡车从桥边踉跄地爬上斜坡，一些士兵扳着轮辐在帮着推车。

卡车嘎嘎地驶上斜坡
就开远了，把全部抛在后边，而农民们还在齐到脚踝的灰尘中踯躅着。

但那个老人却坐在那边，一动也不
动。

他太累，走不动了。

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我的任务是过桥去侦探对岸的桥头堡，查明仇敌终究推动到了什么地址。

达成任务后，我又从桥上回
到原处。

这时车辆已经不多了，行人也稀稀落落，但是那个老人还在原处。

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" 你从哪儿来？ " 我问他。

" 从圣卡洛斯来， " 他说着，露出笑脸。

那是他的故土，提到它，老人便高盛行来，浅笑了。

" 那时我在看守动物，" 他对我解说。

" 噢， " 我说，并无完整听懂。

" 唔， " 他又说， " 你知道，我待在那边照顾动物。

我是最后一个走开圣卡洛斯的。

"
他看上去既不象牧羊的，也不象管牛的。

我瞧着他尽是尘埃的黑衣服、尽是灰尘的灰色面貌，以及那
副钢丝边眼镜，问道，" 什么动物？ " DXDiTa9E3d
" 各种各种， " 他摇着头说， " 唉，只得把它们抛下了。

"
我凝望着浮桥，瞭望充满非洲色彩的埃布罗河① 三角洲地域，寻思终究要过多久才能看到仇敌，同时
向来聆听着，期望第一阵响声，它将是一个信号，表示那神奇莫测的遭受战马上迸发，而老人一直坐在那里。

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" 什么动物？ " 我又问道。

" 一共三种， " 他说， " 两只山羊，一只猫，还有四对鸽子。

"
" 你只得抛下它们了？" 我问。

" 是啊。

怕那些大炮呀。

那个上尉叫我走，他说炮火不饶人哪。

"
"你没家？ " 我问，边凝视着浮桥的另一头，那边最后几辆大车正仓促地驶下河畔的斜坡。

"没家， " 老人说， " 只有方才讲过的那些动物。

猫，自然不重要。

猫会照顾自己的，但是，此外几个东
西怎么办呢？我几乎不敢想。

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"你的政治态度如何？ " 我问。

" 政治跟我不相关，" 他说， " 我七十六岁了。

我已经走了十二公里，我想我此刻再也走不动了。

"
" 这儿可不是久留之地，" 我说，" 假如你牵强还走得动，那处通向托尔托萨②的歧路上有卡车。

"
" 我要待一会，而后再走，" 他说，" 卡车往哪儿开？"
"巴塞罗那， " 我告诉他。

③
"那处我没有熟人， " 他说， " 可是我仍是特别感谢你。

"
他疲倦不堪地茫然瞅着我，过了一会又张口，为了要他人分担他的忧愁，" 猫是不重要的，我拿得稳。

不用为它担忧。

但是，此外几个呢，你说它们会怎么样？" jLBHrnAILg
" 噢，它们大体挨得过的。

"
" 你这样想吗？ "
"自然， " 我边说边凝视着远处的河岸，那边已经看不见大车了。

" 但是在炮火下它们怎么办呢？人家叫我走，就是由于要开炮了。

"
"鸽笼没锁上吧？ " 我问。

"没有。

"
"那它们会飞出去的。

"
" 嗯，自然会飞。

但是山羊呢？唉，不想也罢，" 他说。

"假如你歇够了，我得走了， " 我催他。

" 站起来，逛逛看。

" " 感谢你， " 他说着撑起来，摇摆了几步，
向后一仰，终于又在路旁的灰尘中坐了下去。

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"那时我在照看动物， " 他木然地说，可不再是对着我讲了。

"我不过在照看动物。

"
对他毫无方法。

那一天是复生节的星期天，法西斯正在向埃布罗挺进。

但是天气阴森，乌云密布，法西斯飞机没能腾飞。

这一点，再加上猫会照顾自己，也许就是这位老人仅有的好运吧。

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① 托尔托萨：西班牙塔拉戈纳省城市。

② 巴塞罗那：西班牙最大的港市。

③ 埃布罗河：西班牙境内最长的一条河。

An old man with steel rimmed spectacles and very dusty clothes sat by the side of the road. There was a pontoon bridge across the river and carts, trucks, and men, women and children were crossing it. The mule-drawn carts staggered up the steep bank from the bridge with soldiers helping push against the spokes of the wheels. The trucks ground up and away heading out of it all and the peasants plodded along in the ankle deep dust. But the old man sat there without moving. He was too tired to go any farther.
It was my business to cross the bridge, explore the bridgehead beyond and find out to what point the enemy had advanced. I did this and returned over the bridge. There were not so many carts now and very few people on foot, but the old man was still there.
"Where do you come from?" I asked him.
"From San Carlos," he said, and smiled.
That was his native town and so it gave him pleasure to mention it and he smiled.
"I was taking care of animals," he explained.
"Oh," I said, not quite understanding.
"Yes," he said, "I stayed, you see, taking care of animals. I was the last one to leave the town of San Carlos."
He did not look like a shepherd nor a herdsman and I looked at his black dusty clothes and his gray dusty
face and his steel rimmed spectacles and said, "What animals were they?"
"Various animals," he said, and shook his head. "I had to leave them."
I was watching the bridge and the African looking country of the Ebro Delta and wondering how long now it would be before we would see the enemy, and listening all the while for the first noises that would signalthat ever mysterious event called contact, and the old man still sat there.
"What animals were they?" I asked.
"There were three animals altogether," he explained. "There were two goats and a cat and then there were four pairs of pigeons."
And you had to leave them?" I asked.
"Yes. Because of the artillery. The captain told me to go because of the artillery."
"And you have no family?" I asked, watching the far end of the bridge where a few last carts were hurrying down
the slope of the bank.
"No," he said, "only the animals I stated. The cat, of course, will be all right. A cat can look out for itself, but I cannot think what will become of the others."
"What politics have you?" I asked.
"I am without politics," he said. "I am seventy-six years old. I have come twelve kilometers now and I think now I
can go no further."
"This is not a good place to stop," I said. "If you can make it, there are trucks up the road where it forks
for Tortosa."
"I will wait a while," he said, " and then I will go. Where do the trucks go?"
"Towards Barcelona," I told him.
"I know no one in that direction," he said, "but thank you very much. Thank you again very much."
He looked at me very blankly and tiredly, and then said, having to share his worry with someone, "The cat will be all right, I am sure. There is no need to be unquiet about the cat. But the others. Now what do you think about the others?"
"Why they'll probably come through it all right."
"You think so?"
"Why not," I said, watching the far bank where now there were no carts.
"But what will they do under the artillery when I was told to leave because of the artillery?"
"Did you leave the dove cage unlocked?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Then they'll fly."
"Yes, certainly they'll fly. But the others. It's better not to think about the others," he said.
"If you are rested I would go," I urged. "Get up and try to walk now."
"Thank you," he said and got to his feet, swayed from side to side and then sat down backwards in the dust.
"I was taking care of animals," he said dully, but no longer to me. "I was only taking care of animals."
There was nothing to do about him. It was Easter Sunday and the Fascists were advancing toward the Ebro. It was a gray overcast day with a low ceiling so their planes were not up. That and the fact that cats know how to look
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after themselves was all the good luck that old man would ever have.。