这是在google上搜到卡夫卡的“法律门前”的英文版，又找到好几个中文版参考，自己翻了一遍，准备作为“后现代之法律与文学”的一个材料分析，先拿出来大家分享一下，欢迎点评。

法之门前，有一位守门人在站岗。一个乡下来的人走到守门人跟前，请求进门见法。但守门人说现在不能放他进去。乡下人想了想，问过一会儿是否允许他进去。“可能吧，”守门人答道，“但现在不行。”由于通向法的门像往常一样敞开着，守门人又走到门的一旁去，于是乡下人探身窥望门内。守门人见他如此，笑着说：“如果你这样感兴趣，就努力进去，不必得到我的允许。不过，我提醒你，我是赋有强力的，而且我只是守门人中最微小的一个。里面穿门过户，每一座大厅前都有守门人站岗，一个比一个更加强大。就说那第三个守门人吧，我都不敢去看一样他的模样。”这些困难是乡下人未曾料想到的。他以为，任何人在任何时候都是可以晋见法的，但是当他更切近地打量这位身穿皮外套、鼻子挺拔、留着长而疏朗的鞑靼胡须的守门人时，他决定还是等到许可后再进去。守门人给了他一张小凳，允他坐在门边。他就坐在那里等着，日复一日，年复一年。其间，他多次试图获得准许，他的请求都令守门人不胜其烦了。守门人也会问乡下人一些简短的问题，关于他的家乡和其他琐事，就像一位大人物的考察，而在最后，他总是再次告诉乡下人，他还不能进入法之大门。为了这次行程，乡下人准备颇丰，现在他倾其所有，不论贵贱，希望能够买通守门人。守门人接受了每件事物，然而每次都会说：“我收下这个只是为了不致让你觉得有什么事情该做而没有做。”在漫长的岁月里，乡下人几乎是夜以继日地注视着守门人。他忘却了其他守门人，对他而言，眼前这个守门人就是他与法之间的唯一障碍。起初几年，他还大声诅咒自己的厄运；而后来因为衰老，他只能喃喃自语了。他变得天真起来，由于长年累月的探察，他甚至连守门人皮领上的跳蚤都熟悉了。他请求这些跳蚤帮忙说服守门人改变心意。最后，他的眼神开始模糊不清，他不知道是周围世界变得更加黯淡了，还是眼睛欺骗了自己。但是在昏暗之中，他终能够看到一缕光明从法的大门里迸射出来。现在他的生命正走向完结，弥留之际，他将整个等待过程中的所有体验会聚成一个问题，这个问题他还从未向守门人提出过。他招呼守门人到跟前来，因为他已不能挺直自己僵化的身体。守门人不得不把身子俯得很低才能听清他的话，因为他们之间的身高差距增加了很多，乡下人愈发显得矮小。“你现在还想知道什么？”守门人问道，“你真是不知满足。”“每个人都极力要到达法的面前，”乡下人缓缓道，“可这么多年来，除了我，竟没有一个人来求见法，怎么会是这样呢？”守门人看出乡下人已经油尽灯枯，听力也深受减损，于是在他耳边喊道：“除了你，没有人能获准进入这道门，因为它是专为你开的，现在我就要去关上它了。

——卡夫卡(Franz Kafka 1883－1924)

 
附英文版，可能与原文也有误差，但没办法了。

This translation by Ian Johnston of Malaspina University-College, Nanaimo, BC, has certain copyright restrictions.  For information please use the following link: Copyright.  For comments or question please contact Ian Johnston..  For more links to Kafka e-texts in English click here]

 

Before the Law

 

Before the law sits a gatekeeper.  To this gatekeeper comes a man from the country who asks to gain entry into the law.  But the gatekeeper says that he cannot grant him entry at the moment.  The man thinks about it and then asks if he will be allowed to come in later on.  “It is possible,” says the gatekeeper, “but not now.”  At the moment the gate to the law stands open, as always, and the gatekeeper walks to the side, so the man bends over in order to see through the gate into the inside.  When the gatekeeper notices that, he laughs and says: “If it tempts you so much, try it in spite of my prohibition.  But take note: I am powerful. And I am only the most lowly gatekeeper.  But from room to room stand gatekeepers, each more powerful than the other.  I can’t endure even one glimpse of the third.”  The man from the country has not expected such difficulties: the law should always be accessible for everyone, he thinks, but as he now looks more closely at the gatekeeper in his fur coat, at his large pointed nose and his long, thin, black Tartar’s beard, he decides that it would be better to wait until he gets permission to go inside.  The gatekeeper gives him a stool and allows him to sit down at the side in front of the gate.  There he sits for days and years.  He makes many attempts to be let in, and he wears the gatekeeper out with his requests.  The gatekeeper often interrogates him briefly, questioning him about his homeland and many other things, but they are indifferent questions, the kind great men put, and at the end he always tells him once more that he cannot let him inside yet.  The man, who has equipped himself with many things for his journey, spends everything, no matter how valuable, to win over the gatekeeper.  The latter takes it all but, as he does so, says, “I am taking this only so that you do not think you have failed to do anything.”  During the many years the man observes the gatekeeper almost continuously.  He forgets the other gatekeepers, and this one seems to him the only obstacle for entry into the law.  He curses the unlucky circumstance, in the first years thoughtlessly and out loud, later, as he grows old, he still mumbles to himself.  He becomes childish and, since in the long years studying the gatekeeper he has come to know the fleas in his fur collar, he even asks the fleas to help him persuade the gatekeeper.  Finally his eyesight grows weak, and he does not know whether things are really darker around him or whether his eyes are merely deceiving him.  But he recognizes now in the darkness an illumination which breaks inextinguishably out of the gateway to the law.  Now he no longer has much time to live.  Before his death he gathers in his head all his experiences of the entire time up into one question which he has not yet put to the gatekeeper.  He waves to him, since he can no longer lift up his stiffening body.  The gatekeeper has to bend way down to him, for the great difference has changed things to the disadvantage of the man. “What do you still want to know, then?” asks the gatekeeper. “You are insatiable.”  “Everyone strives after the law,” says the man, “so how is that in these many years no one except me has requested entry?”  The gatekeeper sees that the man is already dying and, in order to reach his diminishing sense of hearing, he shouts at him, “Here no one else can gain entry, since this entrance was assigned only to you.  I’m going now to close it.”