乡村舞会（5）

我仍在自己的生活中生活，干必需的活，赚必需的钱。

I am still living my life, doing necessary work, earning necessary money.

生活平静繁忙。

Life is calm and busy.

但是我知道这平静和这繁忙之中深深忍抑着什么。

But I know that deep within this calm and this busyness, something is being deeply suppressed.

每当我平静地穿针引线时，我会想到，我这样的身体里面有舞蹈；每当我不厌其烦地和顾客讨价还价，为一毛钱和对方争吵半天时，会有那么一下子也突然惊觉，我这样的身体里是有舞蹈的；每当我熬到深夜，活还远远没有干完，疲倦得手指头都不听使唤了，瞌睡得恨不得在上下眼皮之间撑一根火柴棍……我这样的身体里是有舞蹈的呀！

Whenever I quietly thread the needle, I think about how there is dance within this body of mine; whenever I tirelessly haggle with customers, arguing for a mere penny, there is a moment when I suddenly realize that there is dance within this body of mine; whenever I stay up late into the night, with work far from finished, so tired that my fingers don’t obey me, fighting off sleep, wishing I could prop a matchstick between my eyelids... oh, this body of mine has dance within it!

我想要在每一分钟里都展开四肢，都进入音乐之中——这样的身体，不是为着疲惫、为着衰老、为着躲藏的呀！

I want to stretch my limbs in every minute, to immerse myself in music—this kind of body is not meant for fatigue, for aging, for hiding!

我在夜里深深地躺在黑暗之中，听着遥远地方传来的电子琴声，几次入梦，又几次转醒。

At night, lying deep in the darkness, I listen to the sound of an electronic keyboard coming from a distance, drifting in and out of dreams, waking several times.

梦里也在回想过去时候的一些情景——当我和邻居家（也是裁缝）的几个女孩子手拉手，走在通往村里那条黑暗的土路上，深一脚浅一脚地踩在厚厚的尘土里，跌跌撞撞往拖依上赶……到了地方鞋就很脏了，于是在院门口捡几片落叶反复地擦，然后干干净净地进门。

In my dreams, I recall some scenes from the past—when I held hands with several girls from the neighbor’s house (also tailors), walking hand in hand along the dark dirt road leading to the village, stepping unevenly on thick dust, stumbling along to the drag space... by the time we arrived, our shoes were dirty, so we picked up a few fallen leaves at the gate to wipe them clean, then walked in spotless.

我们一进去，就有人大声喊了起来：“哦——裁缝家的丫头们来了！”

As soon as we entered, someone shouted loudly, “Oh—here come the tailors’ girls!”

我们洁净新鲜地站在一排，很不好意思地——其实是暗自得意地——笑。

We stood in a row, clean and fresh, feeling a bit shy—actually, secretly proud—and smiled.

很快人群把我们簇拥进舞蹈之中。

Soon the crowd pushed us into the dance.

彩灯在上方晃动，但却感觉不到风。

Colorful lights swayed above, yet we felt no wind.

彩灯的光芒之外全是黑暗。我还想再看清什么。

Beyond the glow of the lights, there was darkness. I wanted to see something more clearly.

有人穿过重重的人群，笔直来到我的面前，热烈地看着我，向我伸出手来……

Someone passed through the crowd and came straight to me, looking at me eagerly, reaching out their hand...

在深夜里的深深的黑暗中，一次次醒过来，仔细地听遥远的舞曲声。

In the deep, dark night, I woke up again and again, listening carefully to the distant dance music.

又一次次睡去，终于有一次梦见了麦西拉，他还是站在电子琴边随意地弹拨着……我是多么熟悉他的笑容啊！

And I fell asleep again and again, until one time I dreamt of Maixila, standing by the electronic keyboard, casually playing... How familiar his smile was!

当我终于熟睡过去——我熟睡的身体里还会有舞蹈吗？

When I finally fell into a deep sleep—would there still be dance within this sleeping body of mine?

每当我想到我熟睡的身体静静置放在喀吾图的深夜之中，就会看到它正与深夜中喀吾图另一处的狂欢的景象互相牵扯着，欲罢不能。

Whenever I think of my sleeping body quietly placed in the deep night of Kawu Tu, I can see it entangled with the revelry happening somewhere else in Kawu Tu, unable to stop.

就这样，整个秋天我都在想着爱情的事——我出于年轻而爱上了麦西拉，可那又能怎么样呢？

Thus, I spent the entire autumn thinking about love—I fell in love with Maixila because I was young, but what does that change?

我在高而辽阔的河岸上慢慢地走着，河水深深地在陷在河谷里，深深地流淌。

I walked slowly along the high and vast riverbank, the river water flowing deeply in the valley.

我停下来，轻轻地踢着脚下的一小块陷在地上的石头，直到把它踢得翻出来为止。

I stopped and gently kicked a small stone that was lodged in the ground until it turned over.

然后，再把它重新踢回那个小坑里，重新端端正正地陷在大地上。

Then, I kicked it back into the little pit, properly placing it back into the earth.

我想我是真的爱着麦西拉，我能够确信这样的爱情，我的确在思念着他——可那又能怎么样呢？

I think I truly love Maixila; I can be sure of such love, I do miss him—yet, what difference does it make?

我并不认识他，更重要的是，我也没法让他认识我。而且，谁认识谁呀，谁不认识谁呀——这些似乎都是与我对他的爱情无关的，就像我对麦西拉的爱是与麦西拉无关的一样……

I don’t know him, and more importantly, I can’t make him know me. Moreover, who knows whom, who doesn’t know whom—these seem unrelated to my love for him, as my love for Maixila is unrelated to Maixila himself...

不是说过，我只是出于年轻而爱的吗？要不又能怎么办呢？白白地年轻着。

Didn’t I say that I only loved because I was young? What else could be done? Simply being young.

或者，出于这个世界的种种美丽之处吧？

Or perhaps, due to the various beauties of this world?

在这样美丽着的世界里，一个人的话总是令人难过的。

In this beautifully adorned world, a person's words are always saddening.

所以我就有所渴望了，所以麦西拉就出现了……

So I started yearning, and thus Maixila appeared...

秋天快要过去了，而这片大地还是那么碧绿葱茏。

Autumn is coming to an end, yet this land remains so lush and green.

只有河床下，水流边的白桦林黄透了的叶子，纷纷坠落。

Only beneath the riverbed, the leaves of the white birch trees by the water have turned yellow and are falling.

洁白明净的枝子冷清地裸在蓝天下，树下的草地厚厚地积铺了一层灿烂的金色。

The pure white branches stand stark under the blue sky, while the grass beneath them is thickly covered with a layer of brilliant gold.

我还在思念着。

I am still missing.

思念了过去的事情，又开始思念未来的事情，说不出地悲伤和幸福。

Missing the past, and now starting to miss the future, with an indescribable mix of sadness and happiness.

我慢慢地走，虽然整条河谷从下方幽幽向上渗着蓝色的寒气，但上空的阳光却是明亮温暖的，脊背上一团热气，头发都晒得烫手。

I walk slowly, though the whole valley below is seeping with cold blue mist, the sunlight above is bright and warm, heat pooling on my back, my hair becoming hot to the touch.

视野空旷。我说不清楚我是在爱着这样的世界，还是在怨恨着。

The view is open. I can’t clearly say whether I love this world or resent it.

角百灵飞快敏捷地从前面不远处的刺玫丛中蹿起，划着弧线，一起一纵地上升到蓝天之中。

A horned lark swiftly darted up from not far away in the thorn rose bushes, soaring in an arc, rising gracefully into the blue sky.

我抬头看，一字形的雁阵正浩荡地经过这片天空。万里无云。

I looked up, seeing a V-formation of geese sweeping across this sky. A thousand miles of clear clouds.

更远的地方是金光灿烂的收割后的麦茬地。

In the farther distance is the golden, harvested wheat stubble field.

有一个人正从那片金光中走过来，扛着铁锹。我便站住脚，往那边看了好一会儿。

A person is walking toward me from that golden glow, carrying a shovel. I stopped my feet and looked over for quite a while.

但他不是麦西拉。

But he is not Maixila.

那个人走近了，远远地和我打招呼。可是我不认识他。

That person approached, greeting me from afar. But I didn’t recognize him.

“喂，孩子，喀吾图嘛，好地方嘛！”

“Hey, kid, Kawu Tu, it’s a nice place!”

“就是呀，喀吾图好呢。”

“Indeed, Kawu Tu is nice.”

“听说你要走了？”

“Did you hear you’re leaving?”

我就笑了起来。

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“不走不走，为什么要走呢？喀吾图这么好。”

“I’m not leaving, why would I? Kawu Tu is so good.”

他走到我面前站住了：“今天晚上嘛，去我的家里吧。我的家，有拖依嘛。”

He stood in front of me: “Why not come to my house tonight? My house has a drag space.”

“好呀！”我一下子高兴起来：“你们家在哪儿呢？”

“Sure!” I suddenly became happy: “Where’s your house?”

“你晚上过了桥，就往那边看，哪家院子的灯多，人多，到处亮亮的，就是我们了。”

“Cross the bridge tonight, just look over there, whichever courtyard has the most lights and the most people, that’s where we are.”

他指了一下河对面。

He pointed to the other side of the river.

我扭头顺着他的指向看去，河那边高地上的一片村庄正安静地横置在世界的明亮之中——秋天的明亮之中。

I turned to look in the direction he was pointing, and the village on the heights across the river silently lay in the brightness of the world—under the autumn light.

河流上空静静地悬着铁索吊桥。

Over the river, a suspension bridge silently hung.