48 · 沉默的村庄
The Silent Village
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In this much-travelled world, there are still thousands of places which are inaccessible to tourists. We always assume that villagers in remote places are friendly and hospitable. But people who are cut off not only from foreign tourists, but even from their own countrymen can be hostile to travellers. Visits to really remote villages are seldom enjoyable—as my wife and I discovered during a tour through the Balkans.
We had spent several days in a small town and visited a number of old churches in the vicinity. These attracted many visitors, for they were not only of great architectural interest, but contained a large number of beautifully preserved frescoes as well. On the day before our departure, several bus loads of tourists descended on the town. This was more than we could bear, so we decided to spend our last day exploring the countryside. Taking a path which led out of the town, we crossed a few fields until we came to a dense wood. We expected the path to end abruptly, but we found that it traced its way through the trees. We tramped through the wood for over two hours until we arrived at a deep stream. We could see that the path continued on the other side, but we had no idea how we could get across the stream. Suddenly my wife spotted a boat moored to the bank. In it there was a boatman fast asleep. We gently woke him up and asked him to ferry us to the other side. Though he was reluctant to do so at first, we eventually persuaded him to take us.
The path led to a tiny village perched on the steep sides of a mountain. The place consisted of a straggling unmade road which was lined on either side by small houses. Even under a clear blue sky, the village looked forbidding, as all the houses were built of grey mud bricks. The village seemed deserted, the only sign of life being an ugly-looking black goat on a short length of rope tied to a tree in a field nearby. Sitting down on a dilapidated wooden fence near the field, we opened a couple of tins of sardines and had a picnic lunch. All at once, I noticed that my wife seemed to be filled with alarm. Looking up I saw that we were surrounded by children in rags who were looking at us silently as we ate. We offered them food and spoke to them kindly, but they remained motionless. I concluded that they were simply shy of strangers. When we later walked down the main street of the village, we were followed by a silent procession of children. The village which had seemed deserted, immediately came to life. Faces appeared at windows. Men in shirt sleeves stood outside their houses and glared at us. Old women in black shawls peered at us from doorways. The most frightening thing of all was that not a sound could be heard. There was no doubt that we were unwelcome visitors. We needed no further warning. Turning back down the main street, we quickened our pace and made our way rapidly towards the stream where we hoped the boatman was waiting.
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整篇课文
In this much-travelled world, there are still thousands of places which are inaccessible to tourists. We always assume that villagers in remote places are friendly and hospitable. But people who are cut off not only from foreign tourists, but even from their own countrymen can be hostile to travellers. Visits to really remote villages are seldom enjoyable—as my wife and I discovered during a tour through the Balkans.
We had spent several days in a small town and visited a number of old churches in the vicinity. These attracted many visitors, for they were not only of great architectural interest, but contained a large number of beautifully preserved frescoes as well. On the day before our departure, several bus loads of tourists descended on the town. This was more than we could bear, so we decided to spend our last day exploring the countryside. Taking a path which led out of the town, we crossed a few fields until we came to a dense wood. We expected the path to end abruptly, but we found that it traced its way through the trees. We tramped through the wood for over two hours until we arrived at a deep stream. We could see that the path continued on the other side, but we had no idea how we could get across the stream. Suddenly my wife spotted a boat moored to the bank. In it there was a boatman fast asleep. We gently woke him up and asked him to ferry us to the other side. Though he was reluctant to do so at first, we eventually persuaded him to take us.
The path led to a tiny village perched on the steep sides of a mountain. The place consisted of a straggling unmade road which was lined on either side by small houses. Even under a clear blue sky, the village looked forbidding, as all the houses were built of grey mud bricks. The village seemed deserted, the only sign of life being an ugly-looking black goat on a short length of rope tied to a tree in a field nearby. Sitting down on a dilapidated wooden fence near the field, we opened a couple of tins of sardines and had a picnic lunch. All at once, I noticed that my wife seemed to be filled with alarm. Looking up I saw that we were surrounded by children in rags who were looking at us silently as we ate. We offered them food and spoke to them kindly, but they remained motionless. I concluded that they were simply shy of strangers. When we later walked down the main street of the village, we were followed by a silent procession of children. The village which had seemed deserted, immediately came to life. Faces appeared at windows. Men in shirt sleeves stood outside their houses and glared at us. Old women in black shawls peered at us from doorways. The most frightening thing of all was that not a sound could be heard. There was no doubt that we were unwelcome visitors. We needed no further warning. Turning back down the main street, we quickened our pace and made our way rapidly towards the stream where we hoped the boatman was waiting.
如今，人们四处旅行，世界上却仍有成千上万个地方，游客难以到达。我们总以为，偏远地方的村民一定友善好客。可有些人不仅接触不到外国游客，甚至和本国人也很少往来，对旅客反而可能充满敌意。探访真正偏僻的村庄，往往并不愉快。我和妻子在巴尔干半岛旅行时，就有过这样的体会。
我们在一座小城住了几天，参观了附近许多古老的教堂。这些教堂不光建筑本身很有看头，里面还保存着大量精美壁画，因此吸引了不少游客。离开前一天，好几车游客突然涌进小城，我们实在受不了，决定把最后一天留给乡间。沿着一条出城的小路，我们穿过几块田地，来到一片密林。本以为小路会就此中断，却发现它仍在树间蜿蜒向前。我们在林里跋涉了两个多小时，来到一条水很深的溪流前。对岸还能看见小路延伸，却不知道怎样过去。突然，妻子发现岸边泊着一只小船，船夫正在船里熟睡。我们轻轻叫醒他，请他送我们过河。他起初不太情愿，但最后还是被我们说动了。
小路通向一个依着陡峭山坡而建的小村庄。村中只有一条弯弯曲曲、没有铺设路面的土路，两旁散落着小屋。房子全是灰色土坯砌的，即使头顶晴空湛蓝，村子仍显得阴沉、令人却步。四周像是空无一人，唯一有生气的，是附近田里一只模样难看的黑山羊，用一根短绳拴在树上。我们在田边破旧的木篱笆上坐下，打开两罐沙丁鱼，吃起了野餐。突然，我发现妻子神色惊恐。抬头一看，一群衣衫褴褛的孩子已经围住我们，默不作声地看着我们吃东西。我们给他们食物，和气地说话，可他们一动不动。我以为，他们只是怕生。后来，我们沿着村里的大路走，那群孩子也一声不响地排成队跟在后面。原本像是无人居住的村子，突然有了动静：窗前露出一张张脸，男人穿着衬衫站在屋外，怒目盯着我们，披黑披肩的老妇则从门口探头打量。最令人害怕的是，自始至终听不见一点声音。毫无疑问，我们是不受欢迎的来客，也不需要更多警告了。我们掉头沿原路往回走，不由得加快脚步，匆匆赶向溪边，盼着船夫还在那里等候。
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译文依据整理稿，由本站按中文表达重新校订；解析据吴应时、何景霖整理资料及首轮审校稿；词伙与练习提示为本站学习设计。原PDF第167—170页，2022年2月第3版。