編輯推薦：2020年全國翻譯資格考試準考證打印時間及入口匯總

AltogetherAutumn

It’s time to plant the bulbs. But Iput it off as long as possible because planting bulbs mean making space inborders which are still flowering. Pulling out all the annuals which nature hasallowed to erupt in overpowering purple, orange and pink, a final cry of joy.That would almost be murder, and so I wait until the first night frostanaesthetizes all the flowers with a cold, a creaky crust that causes them towither; a very gentle death. Now I wander through my garden indecisively, tryingto hold on to the last days of late summer.

The trees are plump with leafysplendor. The birch is softly rustling gold, which is now fluttering down likean unending stream of confetti. Soon November will be approaching with itsautumn storms and leaden clouds hanging above your head like soaking wet rags.Just let it stay like this, I think, gazing at the huge mysterious shadows thetrees conjure up on the shining green meadows, the cows languidly flickingtheir tails. Everything breathes an air of stillness, the silence rent by theexuberant color of asters, dahlias, sunflowers and roses.

The mornings begin chilly. Theevenings give you shivers and cold feet in bed. But in the middle of the daythe sun breaks through, evaporating the mist on the grass, butterflies andwasps appear and cobwebs glisten against windows like silver lace. The harvestof a whole year’s hard work is on the trees and bushes; berries, beech mast,chestnuts, and acorns.

Suddenly, I think of my youngestdaughter, living now in Amsterdam. Very soon she will call and ask “Have youplanted the bulbs yet?” Then I will answer teasingly that actually I’m waitinguntil she comes to help me. And then we will both be overcome by nostalgia,because once we always did that together. One entire sunny autumn afternoon,when she was three and a half years old, she helped me with all enthusiasm andjoyfulness of her age.

It was one of the last afternoonsthat I had her around, because her place in school has been already reserved.She wandered around so happily carefree with her little bucket and spade,covering the bulbs with earth and calling out “Night, night” or “Sleep night”,her little voice chattering constantly on. She discovered “baby bulbs”, “kiddiebulbs”, and “mummy and daddy bulbs”, the latter snuggling cozily together.While we were both working so industriously, I watched my kid verydeliberately. She was such a tiny thing, between an infant and a toddler, withsuch a round little tummy.

Every autumn, throughout herchildhood, we repeated the ritual of planting the bulbs together. Every autumnI saw her changing, the toddler became a schoolgirl, a straightforward realist,full of drive. Never once dreamy, her hands in her pockets; no longer happilyindulging in her fantasies. The schoolgirl developed long legs, her jaw-linechanged, she had her hair cut. It was autumn again that I thought “bye roses,bye butterflies, bye schoolgirl”. I listened to her stories while wepainstakingly burrowed in the earth, planting the promise of spring.

Suddenly, much quicker than I hadexpected, a tall teenager was standing by my side. She is taller than I. Theritual became rather silent, and we no longer chatter from one subject toanother. I thought about her room full of posters and knick-knacks, how it hadbeen full of treasures in bottles and boxes, white peddles, a copper brooch,colored drawings, the treasures of a child who still knew nothing of money, whowanted to be read to and who looked anxiously at a spider at her room andasked, “Would he want to be my friend?”

Then came the autumn when I plantedthe bulbs alone, and I knew from then on it would always be that way. But everyyear, in autumn, she talks about it, full of nostalgia for the security ofchildhood, the seclusion of a garden, the final moments of a season. How bothof us would dearly love to have a time machine to go back. Just for a day.

人間盡秋

到了栽種球莖植物的時候了。我卻是能拖則拖，因為栽種球莖得在園籬處騰出空間，而此時籬上仍開著朵朵鮮花。把一年生植物強行拔起，掐死造化恩賜的紫絳、橘黃和淺紅這一片爛漫，阻斷自然界的最后歡聲，簡直無異于謀殺。所以我要等待第一個霜降之夜，等待花瓣全部沾上一層冷冽的霜晶，蒙無知覺中自行凋零，和婉地壽終正寢。我在園中徜徉，拿不定主意，只求留住殘夏的最后兒天。

樹葉猶盛，光鮮可人。白樺婆娑輕搖，一片片金色的葉子飄飄落地，有如一溜不絕如縷的慶典彩紙。十一月行將降臨，帶來秋的凄風苦雨和鉛灰色陰云，像浸水的抹布一樣壓在你的頭頂。但愿眼下的好天氣會持續下去，我這樣想，一邊注視著樹木在綠油油的草地上投下的幢幢詭譎黑影，還有倦慵地甩動尾巴的牛群。一片靜謐，唯有紫苑、大麗菊、向日葵和玫瑰的濃艷色彩似在撕裂四下的沉寂。

清晨時分，天氣凜冽，到了夜晚，你打起了哆嗦，躺在床上雙腳冰涼。但在正午時分，陽光撥開云層，將霧靄化作蒸汽，在草地上升騰。蝴蝶和黃蜂開始出沒，蛛網猶如絲帶，掛在窗前閃出銀光。樹梢上和灌木叢里凝結了整整一年的辛勞，漿果、毛栗、板栗和橡實等著收獲歸倉。

突然，想到如今客居阿姆斯特丹的幼女。這兩天，她定會打來電話來問：“球莖植物種下了嗎?”隨即我會用打趣的口吻回答說，老媽正等著她來幫忙下種呢。接著母女雙雙陷入懷舊的情思，因為從前有段時間我們總是合作下種的，她才三歲半的那年，一個秋陽萬里的午后，女兒曾懷著她那年齡特有的全部踴躍和歡樂，做過我的幫手。

生活中女兒繞膝的下午不多了，因為學校已給她留出一個名額。她帶上自己的小桶和鏟子，興高采烈又無憂無慮地滿園子跑，給球莖培掩泥土的同時，用尖細的嗓子一遍又一遍聒噪著“晚安，晚安”或是“睡個好覺”。她還分別發現了“貝貝種”和“娃娃種”，還有“媽媽爸爸種”，后者指的是那些親密依偎的球莖種。兩人辛苦勞作的同時，我曾留意審視孩子：真是個小不點兒，出了襁褓，挺著個圓滾滾的小肚子剛開始蹣跚學步。

在女兒童年期的每個秋季，我們履行儀式似的種下球莖植物，而每個秋季，我都注意到女兒身上發生的變化。學步小兒長大成了女學生，成為一個充滿進取心又坦率直面現實的人，從不把雙手插在口袋里想入非非，再不靠恣意幻想而自得其樂。女學生的雙腿變得修長，下頦的輪廓線變了，要上理發店剪發了。秋季再次來臨時，我在心里默念“別了，玫瑰;別了，蝴蝶;別了，女學生。”當我們使勁在泥土里掘洞，種下明春的希望時，我在傾聽女兒述說她的故事。

突然，站在我身旁的女兒成了大姑娘，變化之神速遠勝我的預料。隨后，她的身高超過了我。下種成了相對無言的程式，不再有天南海北的閑聊。我不由地想起她那掛滿大幅招貼以及充斥各種小擺設的房間，而先前這兒多的是瓶子和紙盒，白色的卵石，一枚銅制胸針，彩色圖畫。這些都是一個尚不知曉金錢為何物的幼兒的珍藏品，一個要大人讀書給她聽的稚女，見了屋里的蛛網會憂心忡忡地發問：“蜘蛛愿跟我做朋友嗎?”

接著就是我獨自下種的那個秋天，我還知道從此就是單干的命了。但每年秋天，她總要提到下種的事，口氣里充滿懷舊的意味，緬想事事都有保障的童年，幽閉的庭園，一個季節的最后時刻。母女倆多么衷心希望有一臺時間機器，能回到往昔，即便過上一天也好。

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