流放的地方

    妈妈，天空上的光成了灰色了；我不知道是什么时候了。

    我玩得怪没劲儿的，所以到你这里来了。这是星期六，是我们的休息日。

    放下你的活计，妈妈；坐在靠窗的一边，告诉我童话里的特潘塔沙漠在什么地方？

    雨的影子遮掩了整个白天。

    凶猛的电光用它的爪子抓着天空。

    当乌云在轰轰地响着，天打着雷的时候，我总爱心里带着恐惧爬伏到你的身上。

    当大雨倾泻在竹叶子上好几个钟头，而我们的窗户为狂风震得格格发响的时候，我

就爱独自和你坐在屋里，妈妈，听你讲童话里的特潘塔沙漠的故事。

    它在哪里，妈妈，在哪一个海洋的岸上，在哪些个山峰的脚下，在哪一个国王的国

土里？

    田地上没有此疆彼壤的界石，也没有村人在黄昏时走回家的，或妇人在树林里捡拾

枯枝而捆载到市场上去的道路。沙地上只有一小块一小块的黄色草地，只有一株树，就

是那一对聪明的老鸟儿在那里做窝的，那个地方就是特潘塔沙漠。

    我能够想象得到，就在这样一个乌云密布的日子，国王的年轻的儿子，怎样地独自

骑着一匹灰色马，走过这个沙漠，去寻找那被囚禁在不可知的重洋之外的巨人宫里的公

主。

    当雨雾在遥远的天空下降，电光像一阵突然发作的痛楚的痉挛似地闪射的时候，他

可记得他的不幸的母亲，为国王所弃，正在扫除牛棚，眼里流着眼泪，当他骑马走过童

话里的特潘塔沙漠的时候？

    看，妈妈，一天还没有完，天色就差不多黑了，那边村庄的路上没有什么旅客了。

    牧童早就从牧场上回家了，人们都已从田地里回来，坐在他们草屋的檐下的草席上，

眼望着阴沉的云块。

    妈妈，我把我所有的书本都放在书架上了——不要叫我现在做功课。

    当我长大了，大得像爸爸一样的时候，我将会学到必须学的东西的。

    但是，今天你可得告诉我，妈妈，童话里的特潘塔沙漠在什么地方？

                          THE LAND OF THE EXILE

MOTHER, the light has grown grey in the sky; I do not know what the time is.

There is no fun in my play, so I have come to you. It is Saturday, our holiday.

Leave off your work, mother; sit here by the window and tell me where the desert of Tep?ntar in the fairy tale is?

The shadow of the rains has covered the day from end to end.

The fierce lightning is scratching the sky with its nails.

When the clouds rumble and it thunders, I love to be afraid in my heart and cling to you.

When the heavy rain patters for hours on the bamboo leaves, and our windows shake and rattle at the gusts of wind, I like to sit alone in the room, mother, with you, and hear you talk about the desert of Tep?ntar in the fairy tale.

Where is it, mother, on the shore of what sea, at the foot of what hills, in the kingdom of what king?

There are no hedges there to mark the fields, no footpath across it by which the villagers reach their village in the evening, or the woman who gathers dry sticks in the forest can bring her load to the market. With patches of yellow grass in the sand and only one tree where the pair of wise old birds have their nest, lies the desert of Tep?ntar.

I can imagine how, on just such a cloudy day, the young son of the king is riding alone on a grey horse through the desert, in search of the princess who lies imprisoned in the giant's palace across that unknown water.

When the haze of the rain comes down in the distant sky, and lightning starts up like a sudden fit of pain, does he remember his unhappy mother, abandoned by the king, sweeping the cow-stall and wiping her eyes, while he rides through the desert of Tep?ntar in the fairy tale?

See, mother, it is almost dark before the day is over, and there are no travellers yonder on the village road.

The shepherd boy has gone home early from the pasture, and men have left their fields to sit on mats under the eaves of their huts, watching the scowling clouds.

Mother, I have left all my books on the shelf--do not ask me to do my lessons now.

When I grow up and am big like my father, I shall learn all that must be learnt.

But just for to-day, tell me, mother, where the desert of Tep?ntar in the fairy tale is?