双语读剧:Call me by ...(一)58:我恐怕倾听的那个人必须是你……
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    There was no one to speak to. Whom could I tell? Mafalda? She’d leave the house. My aunt? She’d probably tell everyone. Marzia, Chiara, my friends? They’d desert me in a second. My cousins when they came? Never. My father held the most liberal views—but on this? Who else? Write to one of my teachers? See a doctor? Say I needed a shrink? Tell Oliver?
    Tell Oliver. There is no one else to tell, Oliver, so I’m afraid it’s going to have to be you…
     
    没人能倾诉。我能对谁说?玛法尔达?她会出门去。我阿姨?她可能告诉每一个人。玛琪雅?奇亚拉?我的朋友?他们会立刻弃我而去。等堂表亲来的时候对他们说?免谈。父亲的见解最开明——可是谈这种事?还有谁?写信给我的老师?看医生?说我需要心理医生?告诉奥利弗?
    告诉奥利弗。不可能对其他任何人说。奥利弗,所以我恐怕倾听的那个人必须是你……

     
    One afternoon, when I knew that the house was totally empty, I went up to his room. I opened his closet and, as this was my room when there were no residents, pretended to be looking for something I’d left behind in one of the bottom drawers. I’d planned to rifle through his papers, but as soon as I opened his closet, I saw it. Hanging on a hook was this morning’s red bathing suit which he hadn’t swum in, which was why it was hanging there and not drying on the balcony. I picked it up, never in my life having pried into anyone’s personal belongings before. I brought the bathing suit to my face, then rubbed my face inside of it, as if I were trying to snuggle into it and lose myself inside its folds—So this is what he smells like when his body isn’t covered in suntan lotion, this is what he smells like, this is what he smells like, I kept repeating to myself, looking inside the suit for something more personal yet than his smell and then kissing every corner of it, almost wishing to find hair, anything, to lick it, to put the whole bathing suit into my mouth, and, if I could only steal it, keep it with me forever, never ever let Mafalda wash it, turn to it in the winter months at home and, on sniffing it, bring him back to life, as naked as he was with me at this very moment. On impulse, I removed my bathing suit and began to put his on. I knew what I wanted, and I wanted it with the kind of intoxicated rapture that makes people take risks they would never take even with plenty of alcohol in their system. I wanted to come in his suit, and leave the evidence for him to find there. Which was when a crazier notion possessed me. I undid his bed, took off his suit, and cuddled it between his sheets, naked. Let him find me—I’ll deal with it, one way or another. I recognized the feel of the bed. My bed. But the smell of him was all around me, wholesome and forgiving, like the strange scent which had suddenly come over my entire body when an elderly man who happened to be standing right next to me in a temple on Yom Kippur25 placed his tallis over my head till I had all but disappeared and was now united with a nation that is forever dispersed but which, from time to time, comes together again when one being and another wrap themselves under the same piece of cloth. I put his pillow over my face, kissed it savagely, and, wrapping my legs around it, told it what I lacked the courage to tell everyone else in the world. Then I told him what I wanted. It took less than a minute.
     
    有一天下午,我发现屋里空无一人,于是我上楼走进他房间,打开他的衣柜——没有住客的时候,这里是我的房间,我假装想找我落在底层抽屉的东西。我原本打算快速翻找他的文件,但一打开衣柜,我就看见那个。吊在挂钩上的,是今天早上他没穿去游泳的红色泳裤,所以吊在衣柜里,而不是晾在阳台上。我这辈子从没窥看过他人的私人物品。我拿起他的泳裤,拿到面前,原来这就是他身上没涂防晒乳液时的味道啊。这就是他的味道,这就是他的味道,但愿我能偷走它,永远放在身边,永远不让玛法尔达洗,在冬天离开这儿的那几个月求助于它,嗅着它,让奥利弗重生,像他此刻一样赤裸裸与我在一起。一阵冲动之下,我脱掉我的泳裤,穿上他的。我知道我想要什么,而且我是抱着一种沉醉的狂喜想要这个东西,我想要冒险,一个人即使在烂醉时也绝对不愿意冒的险。我想穿着他的泳裤达到高潮,留下证据让他发现。这时一个更疯狂的念头攫住了我的心。我摊开他的被褥,脱下他的泳裤,一丝不挂地躺在他的被单下搂着他的泳裤。让他发现我吧——我会面对他,总有办法的。我认得这张床的感觉。我的床。但他的气味围绕着我,健康、宽容,就像在犹太教赎罪日那天,一个碰巧站在我旁边的陌生人把他的祈祷披肩披在我头上盖住我时,我突然闻到的怪味,那气味与那个族人四散的国家合为一体,只有当一个人与另一个人将自己包裹在同一块布里时,这个民族会再度聚合起来。我拿起他的枕头盖在自己脸上,粗野地吻它,双腿夹着它,告诉它我没有勇气对世界上其他人说的事。我告诉它我想要什么。只花不到一分钟。
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