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冰与火之歌第五部 中文版(3)

(2011-09-21 23:04:27)
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冰与火之歌

第五部

魔龙的狂舞

中文版

文化

分类: 家庭作业
明明是一次翻完的,生生让新浪掰成两半 
The snowmelt only made him hungrier. It was food his belly craved, not water. The snow had stopped falling, but the wind was rising, filling the air with crystal, slashing at his face as he struggled through the drifts, the wound in his side opening and closing again. His breath made a ragged white cloud. When he reached the weirwood tree, he found a fallen branch just long enough to use as a crutch. Leaning heavily upon it, he staggered toward the nearest hut. Perhaps the villagers had forgotten something when they fled … a sack of apples, some dried meat, anything to keep him alive until Thistle returned.
              融化的雪只让他更饿。肚子渴望的不是水,是食物。雪停了,但是起风了,风夹着雪块打在脸上,他挣扎着通过障碍,身侧的伤口开裂又合拢,呼出的气息形成破碎的云。到达怪树林时他发现了一条掉落的枝干,长短正合适用作拐杖。他将自己挂在拐杖上,蹒跚着朝着最近的小屋走去。村民在逃走的时候可能忘了点什么...一包苹果、一些肉干、任何让他支持到Thistle回来的东西。
 
  He was almost there when his crutch snapped beneath his weight, and his legs went out from under him.
              快到怪树林时,拐杖被体重压跨了,感觉不到腿的存在。

  How long he sprawled there with his blood reddening the snow Varamyr could not have said. The snow will bury me. It would be a peaceful death. They say you feel warm near the end, warm and sleepy. It would be good to feel warm again, though it made him sad to think that he would never see the green lands, the warm lands beyond the Wall that Mance used to sing about. “The world beyond the Wall is not for our kind,” Haggon used to say. “The free folk fear skinchangers, but they honor us as well. South of the Wall, the kneelers hunt us down and butcher us like pigs.”
               他躺在这里,任由血染红白雪多久了?瓦拉米尔不知道。大雪将会掩埋我。这将是场平静的死亡。他们说在将死之际会觉得暖和,温暖而困倦。如果能再次感到温暖也很好,尽管这让他悲伤的想起再也看不到绿色的大地,长城以内温暖的大地,曼斯以前就是这么唱的。“长城内的世界不属于我们这种人”哈根总是这么说。“自由民害怕换肤者,但是他们也尊敬我们。长城以南,那些人猎杀我们,就像屠杀猪猡一样屠杀我们。”

  You warned me, Varamyr thought, but it was you who showed me Eastwatch too. He could not have been more than ten. Haggon traded a dozen strings of amber and a sled piled high with pelts for six skins of wine, a block of salt, and a copper kettle. Eastwatch was a better place to trade than Castle Black; that was where the ships came, laden with goods from the fabled lands beyond the sea. The crows knew Haggon as a hunter and a friend to the Night’s Watch, and welcomed the news he brought of life beyond their Wall. Some knew him for a skinchanger too, but no one spoke of that. It was there at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea that the boy he’d been first began to dream of the warm south.
               瓦拉米尔想,你警告过我,但也是你,你向我展示了Eastwatch。那是他应该还不到十岁。哈根用一打穿起来的琥珀以及一雪橇堆得高高的皮毛换回了六瓶酒、一包盐和一个铜水壶。比起Castle Black来说,Eastwatch是做生意的好地方;那里有船只往来,满载着来自海那一边的虚拟世界的货物,乌鸦们知道,哈根是个猎人,是Night’s Watch的朋友,也欢迎他带来长城外的消息。有些人也知道他是换肤者,但没人讨论过。就是在那里,在海边的Eastwatch,他第一次开始梦想到温暖的南方。

  Varamyr could feel the snowflakes melting on his brow. This is not so bad as burning. Let me sleep and never wake, let me begin my second life. His wolves were close now. He could feel them. He would leave this feeble flesh behind, become one with them, hunting the night and howling at the moon. The warg would become a true wolf. Which, though?
               瓦拉米尔能感到雪花在他的额头融化。并不像燃烧般难受。让我睡吧,不再醒来,让我开始我的第二次生命。我的狼群就在附近。他能感觉到它们。他将成为它们的一员,把这具孱弱的肉体抛在脑后,在夜晚打猎,对着月亮长嗷。狼灵将变成一头真狼。可是,变成哪只狼呢?

  Not Sly. Haggon would have called it abomination, but Varamyr had often slipped inside her skin as she was being mounted by One Eye. He did not want to spend his new life as a bitch, though, not unless he had no other choice. Stalker might suit him better, the younger male … though One Eye was larger and fiercer, and it was One Eye who took Sly whenever she went into heat.
               不要变成Sly,哈根会说这是亵渎,可是在Sly被独眼骑的时候,瓦米拉尔经常渗入她的毛皮。他可不希望作为一个婊子度过他的新生命,可是,除非他没有别的选择。Stalker可能更适合他,年轻的男性...尽管独眼更加高大凶猛,不管什么时候Sly发情,都是独眼在上她。

  “They say you forget,” Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death. “When the man’s flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains.”
              在几周前,哈根在死前告诉过他“他们说你会忘却,但人的肉体死去,他的精神会生活在一只野兽身体中,但是逐渐他的记忆会褪色,然后这头野兽会变成一只比狼灵差,比狼强的动物,最后人什么也不剩下,只剩野兽。”

  Varamyr knew the truth of that. When he claimed the eagle that had been Orell’s, he could feel the other skinchanger raging at his presence. Orell had been slain by the turncloak crow Jon Snow, and his hate for his killer had been so strong that Varamyr found himself hating the beastling boy as well. He had known what Snow was the moment he saw that great white direwolf stalking silent at his side. One skinchanger can always sense another. Mance should have let me take the direwolf. There would be a second life worthy of a king. He could have done it, he did not doubt. The gift was strong in Snow, but the youth was untaught, still fighting his nature when he should have gloried in it.
               瓦拉米尔知道这是事实。当他召唤曾经属于Orell的老鹰时,他能感觉到其他的换肤者对他存在的愤怒。Orell被乌鸦琼恩雪诺所杀,他的恨意如此强烈,瓦拉米尔都觉得自己同样仇恨那个男孩。在他看见那头巨大的白色冰原狼无声的跟随着雪诺时就知道他是什么人了。一个换肤者总是能觉察出其他换肤者。曼斯本应让他渗入那头冰原狼的。那是配得上一个国王的第二次生命。他毫不怀疑他能做到。雪诺的天赋也很强大,但是这个年轻人没有经过训练,还在和他本应引以为荣的本性抗争。

  Varamyr could see the weirwood’s red eyes staring down at him from the white trunk. The gods are weighing me. A shiver went through him. He had done bad things, terrible things. He had stolen, killed, raped. He had gorged on human flesh and lapped the blood of dying men as it gushed red and hot from their torn throats. He had stalked foes through the woods, fallen on them as they slept, clawed their entrails from their bellies and scattered them across the muddy earth. How sweet their meat had tasted. “That was the beast, not me,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “That was the gift you gave me.”
               瓦拉米尔能够看见鱼梁木白色躯干上红色的眼睛正在盯着他。神矢正在衡量我。他打了个冷战。他干过坏事,非常坏的事。他偷窃过,杀过人,强奸过。他吞咽过人类的鲜肉,从将死的人被撕开的喉咙里舔食过喷涌着冒着热气的献血。他悄然穿过森林,在他们熟睡时闯入,从他们肚子里拖出内脏,衔着他们穿过泥泞的土地。他们的肉尝起来可真美味啊。“那是野兽,不是我,”他用嘶哑的嗓音低语。“那是您赐予我的天赋。”

  The gods made no reply. His breath hung pale and misty in the air. He could feel ice forming in his beard. Varamyr Sixskins closed his eyes.
               神矢没有回答。他的呼吸在空气中形成苍白的薄雾。他能感觉到冰块正在包裹他的胡须。瓦拉米尔闭上双眼。

  He dreamt an old dream of a hovel by the sea, three dogs whimpering, a woman’s tears.
               他梦到一个曾经做过的梦:海边的旅馆,三只狗在呜咽,一个女人在流泪。

  Bump. She weeps for Bump, but she never wept for me.
               班普。她在为班普流泪,可是她从来没为我落泪。

  Lump had been born a month before his proper time, and he was sick so often that no one expected him to live. His mother waited until he was almost four to give him a proper name, and by then it was too late. The whole village had taken to calling him Lump, the name his sister Meha had given him when he was still in their mother’s belly. Meha had given Bump his name as well, but Lump’s little brother had been born in his proper time, big and red and robust, sucking greedily at Mother’s teats. She was going to name him after Father. Bump died, though. He died when he was two and I was six, three days before his nameday.
               Lump比预产期要早一个月出生,他太孱弱了,没人觉得他能活下来。他到了快四岁时,母亲才给他起了个名字,可是那时已经太晚了。整个村子的人都管他叫Lump。这是他还在母亲肚子里的时候,姐姐Meha给他起的名字。Meha也给Bump起了个名字,但是Lump的小弟弟在他预产期的时候出生了,个子大大的,红色的,强壮的,贪婪的吮吸着母亲的奶头。她用父亲的名字给他命名。尽管如此,班普还是死了。他在两岁时死了,在他的命名日三天前。那时我六岁。

  “Your little one is with the gods now,” the woods witch told his mother, as she wept. “He’ll never hurt again, never hunger, never cry. The gods have taken him down into the earth, into the trees. The gods are all around us, in the rocks and streams, in the birds and beasts. Your Bump has gone to join them. He’ll be the world and all that’s in it.”
              在母亲哭泣的时候,森林巫婆告诉他。“你的小儿子现在与神矢同在,他再也不会受伤,不会饥饿,不会哭泣。神矢们曾经让他来到这个世界,来到森林。神矢无处不在,在岩石和溪流间,在小鸟和野兽中。你的班普和他们在一起。他将回到这个世界,所有一切尽在其中。”

  The old woman’s words had gone through Lump like a knife. Bump sees. He is watching me. He knows. Lump could not hide from him, could not slip behind his mother’s skirts or run off with the dogs to escape his father’s fury. The dogs. Loptail, Sniff, the Growler. They were good dogs. They were my friends.
               老女人的话就像刀子一样跟随着Lump。班普能看见,他在看着我。他知道。Lump无法在他面前遁形,无法藏匿在母亲的裙底,无法和狗狗们一起逃离父亲的冲天怒气。狗狗们。Loptail, Sniff, the Growler。他们都是乖狗狗,他们都是我的好朋友。


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