Childhood 童 年
◎ Lev Tolstoy
Happy, happy, never—returning time of childhood! How can we help loving and dwelling upon its recollections? They cheer and elevate the soul, and become to one a source of higher joys.
幸福的，幸福的，一去不复返的童年啊！叫我们怎能不去珍爱，不去回忆童年的美好呢？童年的回忆让我心情舒畅，精神振奋，它是我无上乐趣的源泉。
Sometimes, when dreaming of bygone days, I fancy that, tired out with running about, I have sat down, as of old, in my high arm-chair by the tea-table. It is late, and I have long since drunk my cup of milk. My eyes are heavy with sleep as I sit there and listen. How could I not listen, seeing that Mamma is speaking to somebody, and that the sound of her voice is so melodious and kind? How much its echoes recall to my heart!
有时回忆起逝去的日子，我就会想起这样的情景：跑累了，我就坐在茶桌旁的那张高背椅上休息；时候不早了，我早早地把那杯牛奶喝完，然后就那样闭上睡意浓浓的双眼，静静地坐在那儿聆听。我怎么能不听呢？妈妈正在和别人说话，她的声音是那么的美妙、亲切。她的声音给了我源自心灵深处的启发！
With my eyes veiled with drowsiness I gaze at her wistfully. Suddenly she seems to grow smaller and smaller, and her face vanishes to a point; yet I can still see it—can still see her as she looks at me and smiles. Somehow it pleases me to see her grown so small. I blink and blink, yet she looks no larger than a boy reflected in the pupil of an eye. Then I rouse myself, and the picture fades. Once more I half-close my eyes, and cast about to try and recall the dream, but it has gone, I rise to my feet, only to fall back comfortably into the armchair.
我用睡眼朦胧的双眼渴望地凝视着她。忽然，她的脸庞变得越来越小，最后只有一个圆点那么大。可我仍旧能够看见她的脸庞，她看了我一眼，冲我微微一笑。有的时候，我却喜欢看见她变成那么一点点大。当我眯上眼睛时，我眼中的她就变得比孩子还小了。忽然，我动了一下，眼前的情景消失了。我再次半睁着双眼拼命想让梦境重现，但它永远消失了。我站了起来，接着无奈地坐回到那张高背椅上。
“There! You are failing asleep again, little Nicolas,” says Mamma. “You had better go to by-by.”
“你又睡着了，小尼古拉斯，”妈妈说，“你最好上楼睡。”
“No, I won’t go to sleep, Mamma,” I reply, though almost inaudibly, for pleasant dreams are filling all my soul. The sound sleep of childhood is weighing my eyelids down, and for a few moments I sink into slumber and oblivion until awakened by some one. I feel in my sleep as though a soft hand were caressing me. I know it by the touch, and, though still dreaming, I seize hold of it and press it to my lips. Every one else has gone to bed, and only one candle remains burning in the drawing-room.
“不，妈妈，我不想睡觉，”我答道，声音小得几乎都听不见，因为那个美妙的梦境正充满着我的脑海。小孩子天生入睡快，我很快就闭上了双眼，一转眼的功夫就进入了梦乡，一直睡到我被唤醒为止。睡梦中我总能感觉到一双温柔的手抚摸着我。单凭这种感觉，我就知道那是她，即使在梦中，我也会不由自主地拉住这双手，把它紧紧地放在自己的唇边。所有人都回房睡觉了，只留下一根蜡烛在客厅里。
Mamma has said that she herself will wake me. She sits down on the arm of the chair in which I am asleep, with her soft hand stroking my hair, and I hear her beloved, well-known voice say in my ear: “Get up, my darling. It is time to go by-by.”
妈妈说过她会亲自把我唤醒的。她就坐在我睡觉的那张高背椅的扶手上，用她那双温柔的手拨弄着我的头发。接着，我的耳边传来一个充满爱意的、熟悉的声音：“亲爱的，该起来了，我们上楼睡吧！”
No envious gaze sees her now. She is not afraid to shed upon me the whole of her tenderness and love. I do not wake up, yet I kiss and kiss her hand.
没有任何羡慕的眼光为我见证这一切。她不惜将自己所有的温柔和爱都给了我。我没有醒来，只是亲了亲她的手。
“Get up, then, my angel.”
“起来呀，我的小天使。”
She passes her other arm round my neck, and her fingers tickle me as they move across it. The room is quiet and in half-darkness, but the tickling has touched my nerves and I begin to awake. Mamma is sitting near me—that I can tell—and touching me; I can hear her voice and feel her presence. This at last rouses me to spring up, to throw my arms around her neck, to hide my head in her bosom, and to say with a sigh: “Ah, dear, darling Mamma, how much I love you!”
她用一只手托着我的脖子，另一只手的手指不断在我身上搔痒。房间里很安静，只有少许的光亮，半明半暗的。她的搔痒仿佛触碰到了我的每条神经，我醒了。妈妈就坐在我的身旁——我知道——轻抚着我。我能听到她的声音，感觉到她的存在。这让我猛得一下坐起身来，双手环住她的脖子，一头扎进她的怀里，并撒娇道：“我最亲爱的妈妈，我好爱你呀！”
She smiles her sad, enchanting smile, takes my head between her two hands, kisses me on the forehead, and lifts me on to her lap.
她笑了，那是一种多愁善感却又充满魅力的微笑。她用双手将我抱起来，亲了一下我的额头，让我坐在她的膝盖上。
“Do you love me so much, then?” she says. Then, after a few moments’ silence, she continues: “And you must love me always, and never forget me. If your Mamma should no longer be here, will you promise never to forget her—never, Nicolinka?” And she kisses me more fondly than ever.
“你真的有这么爱我吗？”她说。她沉默了一会儿，接着说：“那你无时无刻都要爱着我，永远都不要忘记我。如果妈妈不在了，你能保证永远记住她吗？尼古连卡，你要永远记住她。”话音刚落，她就给了我一个无比温存的吻。
“Oh, but you must not speak so, darling Mamma, my own darling Mamma!” I exclaim as I clasp her knees, and tears of joy and love fall from my eyes.
“噢！亲爱的妈妈，我最亲爱的妈妈，请别这么说！”我紧紧抓住她的双膝，大声说道。这时，我的眼中泛起了泪光，那是喜悦的泪水，那是充满爱的泪水。
How, after scenes like this, I would go upstairs, and stand before the ikons, and say with a rapturous feeling, “God bless Papa and Mamma!” and repeat a prayer for my beloved mother which my childish lips had learnt to lisp-the love of God and of her blending strangely in a single emotion!
之后，我回到楼上，站在神像前，虔诚地祷告着：“上帝啊，请保佑我的爸爸妈妈吧！”当我用自己那稚嫩的声音为挚爱的母亲重复祷告时，我对上帝的爱居然神奇般地与我对妈妈的爱交织在一起。
After saying my prayers I would wrap myself up in the bedclothes. My heart would feel light, peaceful, and happy, and one dream would follow another. Dreams of what? They were all of them vague, but all of them full of pure love and of a sort of expectation of happiness. I remember, too, that I used to think about Karl Ivanitch and his sad lot. He was the only unhappy being whom I knew, and so sorry would I feel for him, and so much did I love him, that tears would fall from my eyes as I thought, “May God give him happiness, and enable me to help him and to lessen his sorrow. I could make any sacrifice for him!” Usually, also, there would be some favorite toy—a china dog or hare—stuck into the bed-corner behind the pillow, and it would please me to think how warm and comfortable and well cared—for it was there. Also, I would pray God to make every one happy, so that every one might be contented, and also to send fine weather tomorrow for our walk. Then I would turn myself over on to the other side, and thoughts and dreams would become jumbled and entangled together until at last I slept soundly and peacefully, though with a face wet with tears.
祷告结束后，我会钻进被窝，心里觉得既轻松，又平静，又幸福。一个梦接着一个梦。那这些梦都是关于什么呢？它们都会渐渐消逝不见，但是，这些梦承载着满满的爱和对幸福的企盼。我依稀记得，自己曾经回忆起卡尔·伊凡内奇和他的悲惨命运。他是我唯一认识的苦命人。我为他感到难过，同时我也深爱着他。就这样想着想着，我的眼眶泛起了泪光：“祈求上帝赐予他幸福，让我帮他减轻一些痛苦吧！我愿为他做任何事情。”接着，我会拿出心爱的玩具——一只陶瓷小狗或者一只小兔——把它们藏在枕头后的角落里，好好地看着它们温暖、舒适地躺在那里。我接着祷告，求上帝赐给每个人幸福，让所有人都称心如意，明天散步会有个好天气。然后我翻了个身，脸上已被泪水浸湿。最后我沉沉地、静静地睡着了。
Do in after life the freshness and light-heartedness, the craving for love and for strength of faith, ever return which we experience in our childhood’s years? What better time is there in our lives than when the two best of virtues—innocent gaiety and a boundless yearning for affection—are our sole objects of pursuit?
童年时代所拥有的那些朝气蓬勃的精神，轻松愉快的心情，对爱和信仰的追求——还会存在吗？当天真的喜悦和对爱的无限追求——这两种最崇高的美德成为我们一生的追求时，又会有什么比这两者更美好？
Where now are our ardent prayers? Where now are our best gifts—the pure tears of emotion which a guardian angel dries with a smile as he sheds upon us lovely dreams of ineffable childish joy? Can it be that life has left such heavy traces upon one’s heart that those tears and ecstasies are for ever vanished? Can it be that there remains to us only the recollection of them?
如今，那些真诚的企盼在哪儿呢？如今，我们最好的礼物——感动的泪水——又在哪儿呢？天使会擦干这些泪水，微笑着把充满儿童乐趣的美梦带给我们。难道生活所留下的只是苦难的印迹，却把泪水与欢喜永远地带走了？难道留给我们的就只是回忆？
