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凤肚插章在第六七章之间：《芒果街上的小屋》（英汉对照）
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The House on the Mango Street
Sandra Cisneros
Chapter One& Hairs
Everybody in our family has different hair. My Papa's hair is like a broom, all up in the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos' hair is thick and straight. He doesn't need to comb it. Nenny's hair is slippery--slides out of your hand. And Kiki, who is the youngest, has hair like fur.
But my mother's hair, my mother's hair, like little rosettes, like little candy circles all curly and pretty because she pinned it in pincurls all day, sweet to put your nose into when she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe, is the warm smell of bread before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bed still warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring. The snoring, the rain, and Mama&s hair that smells like bread.
Chapter Two& Darius & the Clouds
大流士和云
You can never have too much sky. You can fall asleep and wake up drunk on sky, and sky can keep you safe when you are sad. Here there is too much sadness and not enough sky. Butterflies too are few and so are flowers and most things that are beautiful. Still, we take what we can get and make the best of it.
Darius, who doesn't like school, who is sometimes stupid and mostly a fool, said something wise today, though most days he says nothing. Darius, who chases girls with firecrackers or a stick that touched a rat and thinks he's tough, today pointed up because the world was full of clouds, the kind like pillows.
You all see that cloud, that fat one there? Darius said, See that? Where? That one next to the one that look like popcorn. That one there. See that. That's God, Darius said. God? somebody little asked. God, he said, and made it simple.
Chapter Two-02-Three The Raining Cloud Temper
三章& 雨云脾气
It rains, the wind blows. That`s the cloud`s temper. The cloud draws, the sun shines. This is weather. I seldom mention weather. Weather is the weather, but the cloud is another.
下雨，刮风，那是云的脾气；天阴，天晴，这就是天气。我不喜欢谈论天气，因为：天气就是天气，脾气就是脾气。
If it rains, I won&t be late for school, maybe. If it`s in that way, more classmates will be late, maybe. If it`s in that way, Dad may be home earlier and I have enough time to wonder why the sky rains. Small water pearls roll and roll and roll along my face, through my hair. Sometimes they`re gentle just like soft sweet smiles, sometimes they`re just like the teathers& sudden chalk shooting me a shock.
要是下雨，我上学就不会迟到，也许。那样的话，我的同伴会迟到得更多，也许。那样的话，爸爸会早点儿回家，而我也会有时间想想为什么天空会下雨。小小的水珍珠滴在我的脸上和头发上，滚来滚去，有时像温柔的微笑一样甜蜜，有时却吓我一跳，像老师突然抛来的粉笔。
My eye is a little like the sky. My eye can also rain but not as much as the sky. My rain rains me, but the sky rains for the earth. No, not like that, it`s not the sky but the cloud that makes rain. I`m always making that kind of mistakes.
我的眼睛倒有点像天空，我的眼睛也会下雨，但没有天空下的多。因为天空要把雨洒给大地，不对，不是天空在下雨，是云做成了雨。唉，我犯错误总是那么低级。
When you don&t know how to do, you don&t want others here to tell you the right way. But I will and I know now. The sky is too high to send rain down here. but the cloud is so low, just like the thick waste gases of cars, so black and so dark, similar to the angry black faces and so heavy just like the shouting noise in the street. Such tempered cloud likes to rain frequently.
这里的人尽管犯了错，也不愿意让别人告诉该怎么做。可是我愿意，所以我知道。天空太高了不能把雨送到这里，云呢，一些云有时变得很低很黑也很重，低得像浓重的汽车尾气，黑得像许多人生气的脸，重得像街上振耳欲聋的噪音。这样的云够脾气，时不时地喜欢下雨。
Chapter Three& Cathy Queen of Cats
猫皇后凯茜
She says, I am the great great grand cousin of the queen of France. She lives upstairs, over there, next door to Joe the baby-grabber. Keep away from him, she says. He is full of danger. Benny and Blanca own the corner store. They're okay except don't lean on the candy counter. Two girls raggedy as rats live across the street. You don't want to know them. Edna is the lady who owns the building next to you. She used to own a building big as a whale, but her brother sold it. Their mother said no, no, don't ever sell it. I won't. And then she closed her eyes and he sold it. Alicia is stuck-up ever since she went to college. She used to like me but now she doesn't.
Cathy who is queen of cats has cats and cats and cats. Baby cats, big cats, skinny cats, sick cats. Cats asleep like little donuts. Cats on top of the refrigerator. Cats taking a walk on the dinner table. Her house is like cat heaven.
You want a friend, she says. Okay, I'll be your friend. But only till next Tuesday. That's when we move away. Got to. Then as if she forgot I just moved in, she says the neighborhood is getting bad.
Cathy's father will have to fly to France one day and find her great great distant grand cousin on her father's side and inherit the family house. How do I know this is so? She told me so. In the meantime they'll just have to move a little farther north from Mango Street, a little farther away every time people like us keep moving in.
Chapter Three-03-Four &Cathy`s Cats
四章& 凯茜的猫
When I woke up in the morning, I went upstairs to help Cathy to pack up her baggage, whose cat took elegant steps in a leisurely and carefree pace. At that time, Cathy had not removed. When I entered the housethe cat that only enjoyed crawling on the refrigerator lept up all of a sudden to me, sending out the snoring voices. Hanging around, jumping, playing on the floor, made the sound of chasing the ball and rubber rats. The black and white stripes came from the rules of the order of life. The glass-like green eyes flashed brightly in the shadow. The wind flew into the room from the window, from which, blowing over the curtain, the cat sniffed the air to capture the taste of the season.
The big cat with its face covered by soft claws was sleeping in the corner, whose claws were just like a little flesh pink shoes. That kind of scene reminds me of the smell on its mouth and a piece of cake on the& beard.
The guy named baby in a daze stayed alone. It was crawling in the shadow of the window, no matter where Cathy throws things. The moment, at which it turned a deaf ear to everything, made it such a pride. It always kept a flavor of sensitive curiosity to all the right things. It was always staring at the TV, or staring the scenery out of window. It did as same as now.
When I tried to sit in the sofa, I found that sick cat, in laziness all day. At the moment, it was licking the hair, in such an urgency, as if that was a torture.
Also there was a baby, emaciated one. It seemed always to have the deep attachment and dependent to the human. Wherever I went, it followed. Now it squated nearby my feet quietly, gazing up at every turn. It must be the way it was unable to identify. It called upon softly. In the air there was imbued gentle voices which had been circulated by helplessness. I would like to take this voice into my memories.
A cat owns its deadline. Day by day, time passed so rapidly. If someone was able to understand the period which spend with their common things, there will be full of treasuring. Cathy gave me only a few days to complete our friendship, perhaps in the centre of the city, where her father worked, there were more baby cats waiting to catch the clews which Cathy lost out.
Cathy grumbled as she impatiently tucked the broken bear doll into the baggage. Her family and she had to move north in a hurry, time and time again, while people like us moved into the community. At that time I must be floating in the air, with the grumble through my body, just as if I disappeared in the room.
Cats chewed the hair desquamated in the daytime, and sicked up balls of stuck hair silently at night. There I stood at the window, watching.
Chapter Three-04-Four &Cathy&s Move
四章& 凯茜搬了家
Cathy moves out so long a time ago that we all think of her. Cathy never comes back home on Mango Street and the start of summer vacation yesterday reminds me of my old pet. I`ll visit her today.
凯茜搬家很久了，我们都很想念她，但是她却再也没有回过在芒果街的家。昨天我终于放了暑假，想起了凯茜这位老朋友，那天我决定去看望她。
Cathy lives a little farther north from Mango Street. Her new house is huge with a beatiful garden which she likes.
凯茜家搬到了芒果街的北面，山上一座大大的房子是他们的新家，还有一个美丽的花园陪伴着她。
Cathy was alone home today. She says that Dad has gone to Paris to inherit the family house. There are no longer cats running all around. &Do the cats have a holiday& I asks. &I`ll get married, so Dad expells them from our new house.& Cathy says, staring at me, &the day will come when you leave home the same way.&
今天只有凯茜一个人在家，她说爸爸已经去巴黎继承祖传家宅了。房子里不见了猫咪爬上爬下，我问她猫咪们是否都已经去度假。凯茜说：&我要嫁人了，爸爸把它们都赶出了家。&她怔怔的看了我一下，说：&总有一天你也会像我一样离开家。&
I can&t understand her. I say bye-bye to her after lunch. I see the four skinny trees with skinny necks and pointed elbow. They are four which don`t have to get married and never worry.
我不明白她的话，吃过了午饭我就告别了她。我离家不远处，我又看见了那四棵生长在水泥地上的细瘦的树，四棵不用嫁人也没有烦恼的细瘦的树。
Chapter Four& Four Skinny Trees
四棵细瘦的树
They are the only ones who understand me. I am the only one who understands them. Four skinny trees with skinny necks and pointy elbows like mine. Four who do not belong here but are here. Four raggedy excuses planted by the city. From our room we can hear them, but Nenny just sleeps and doesn't appreciate these things.
Their strength is secret. They send ferocious roots beneath the ground. They grow up and they grow down and grab the earth between their hairy toes and bite the sky with violent teeth and never quit their anger. This is how they keep. Let one forget his reason for being, they'd all droop like tulips in a glass, each with their arms around the other. Keep, keep, keep, trees say when I sleep. They teach.
When I am too sad and too skinny to keep keeping, when I am a tiny thing against so many bricks, then it is I look at trees. When there is nothing left to look at on this street. Four who grew despite concrete. Four who reach and do not forget to reach. Four whose only reason is to be and be.
Chapter Five-05-Six& Love the sky
五章& 恋天
The breeze blows the four trees, dancing, on the lonely afternoon. Watching them dancing, I hear the voice of the bloom of the flowers in my heart. There do I stand in the summer dusk and the body of my own also danced in the wind. A couple of birds hit me on the shoulders. I have heard them singing for tomorrow.
I want to ask: Is the sky world distant and infinite?
The two birds are flying farther and farther away. I watch the flowers blooming and withering, withering and blooming, still full of fantasy and expections, everyday, each year, on such a distant horizon.
The four united trees, dancing, carry on the shoulders the horizon, on which you are the spot and the spots appearing that day. If they did not turn the marks in my heart, the spots would not turn into the line, so that the tears would not fall down from my eyes& Yet if the spots were not of my affections, I would not understand that my heart is also so soft and so warm&
Today, I am still looking up into the sky. The ripples in my heart are always rippling my love of the sky.
I am not the flower fairy who practises wholeheartedly turning an immortal. I am only such a tree willing to blossom, which has been growing for 500 years so far. During such a long time of 500 years, I have absorbed the essence of the moon and the sun that the flowers open rarely in the world. I turned into the human form at last. It is not necessary to stand on the top of the mountain for long, such 500 years.
Desiring stopping and also longing for flying, I understand the soul of my own in the end and get to know what is driving me crazy.
The sky is always regarding itself as a colorless calm, but it is definitely not. Besides its storming and straight-face turning, it is always being blue and upset when the day is in the pursuit of its warmth. If there were not the four trees which carry the horizon on the shoulders, it would not have the upset blue. But if there were not such a bule, it would not have my dependence. And if there were not my dependence, it would not have the Mango sky.
Chapter Five& Born Bad
Most likely I will go to hell and most likely I deserve to be there. My mother says I was born on an evil day and prays for me. Lucy and Rachel pray too. For ourselves and for each other... because of what we did to Aunt Lupe.
Her name was Guadalupe and she was pretty like my mother. Dark. Good to look at. In her Joan Crawford dress and swimmer's legs. Aunt Lupe of the photographs.
But I knew her sick from the disease that would not go, her legs bunched under the yellow sheets, the bones gone Limp as worms. The yellow pillow, the yellow smell, the bottles and spoons. Her head thrown back like a thirsty lady. My aunt, the swimmer.
Hard to imagine her legs once strong, the bones hard and parting water, clean sharp strokes, not bent and wrinkled like a baby, not drowning under the sticky yellow light. Second-floor rear apartment. The naked light bulb. The high ceilings. The light bulb always burning.
I don't know who decides who deserves to go bad. There was no evil in her birth. No wicked curse. One day I believe she was swimming, and the next day she was sick. It might have been the day that gray photograph was taken. It might have been the day she was holding cousin Totchy and baby Frank. It might have been the moment she pointed to the camera for the kids to look and theywouldn't.
Maybe the sky didn't look the day she fell down. Maybe God was busy. It could be true she didn't dive right one day and hurt her spine. Or maybe the story that she fell very hard from a high step stool, like Totchy said, is true.
But I think diseases have no eyes. They pick with a dizzy finger anyone, just anyone. Like my aunt who happened to be walking down the street one day in her Joan Crawford dress, in her funny felt hat with the black feather, cousin Totchy in one hand, baby Frank in the other.
Sometimes you get used to the sick and sometimes the sickness, if it is there too long, gets to seem normal. This is how it was with her, and maybe this is why we chose her.
It was a game, that's all. It was the game we played every afternoon ever since that day one of us invented it. I can't remember who. I think it was me. You had to pick somebody.
You had to think of someone everybody knew. Someone you could imitate and everyone else would have to guess who it was. It started out with famous people: Wonder Woman, the Beatles, Marilyn Monroe... But then somebody thought it'd be better if we changed the game a little, if we pretended we were Mr. Benny, or his wife Blanca, or Ruthie, or anybody we knew.
I don't know why we picked her. Maybe we were bored that day. Maybe we got tired. We liked my aunt. She listened to our stories. She always asked us to come back. Lucy, me, Rachel. I hated to go there alone. The six blocks to the dark apartment, second-floor rear building where sunlight never came, and what did it matter? My aunt was blind by then. She never saw the dirty dishes in the sink. She couldn't see the ceilings dusty with flies, the ugly maroon walls, the bottles and sticky spoons. I can't forget the smell. Like sticky capsules filled with jelly. My aunt, a little oyster, a little piece of meat on an open shell for us to look at. Hello, hello. As if she had fallen into a well.
I took my library books to her house. I read her stories. I liked the book The Water Babies. She liked it too. I never knew how sick she was until that day I tried to show her one of the pictures in the book, a beautiful color picture of the water babies swimming in the sea. I held the book up to her face. I can't see it, she said, I'm blind. And then I was ashamed.
She listened to every book, every poem I read her. one day I read her one of my own. I came very close. I whispered it into the pillow:
I want to be
like the waves on the sea,
like the clouds in the wind,
but I'm me.
One day I'll jump
out of my skin.
I'll shake the sky
like a hundred violins.
That's nice. That's very good, she said in her tired voice. You just remember to keep writing, Esperanza. You must keep writing. It will keep you free, and I said yes, but at that time I didn't know what she meant.
The day we played the game, we didn't know she was going to die. We pretended with our heads thrown back, our arms limp and useless, dangling like the dead. We laughed the way she did. We talked the way she talked, the way blind people talk without moving their head. We imitated the way you had to lift her head a little so she could drink water, she sucked it up slow out of a green tin cup. The water was warm and tasted like metal. Lucy laughed. Rachel too. We took turns being her. We screamed in the weak voice of a parrot for Totchy to come and wash those dishes. It was easy.
We didn't know. She had been dying such a long time, we forgot. Maybe she was ashamed. Maybe she was embarrassed it took so many years. The kids who wanted to be kids instead of washing dishes and ironing their papa's shirts, and the husband who wanted a wife again.
And then she died, my aunt who listened to my poems.
And then we began to dream the dreams.
Chapter Five-10-Six& Dreams Never Meet Dawn
六章 &天亮梦醒
&Don&t drink so much Tequila in the morning. It must take you ten or twenty years to realize that I am such an important person in your life who always cares for your health.& Mum shouts at Dad before she gives a speech like a preacher and immerses herself totally in self-satisfaction. I ever have that moment of immersion, as everyone does.
&Come on! Bring some corn from the market after breakfast.& Mum is busy cooking in the kitchen left her voice in the air. Probably, the mouth and hands are separated from each other for good unless the brain negotiates them into cooperation instead of opposition.
Today someone seems to visit my home.
&&& &Hello!& I get a scare because two black and bright eyes appear suddenly in front of me without my preparation. However, they are so beautiful that I am fired by the long eyelashes when she winks at me. I am too absent-minded to notice whatever I am eating. This blond must be from heaven. Do I have some relatives like this? Look, her slim legs are little short of creature made by God. What&s more, her Joan Crawford dress is just made by angels.
I feel my hands shorter when I am about to clean some white foam off my mouth.
&What do you want?& The big eyes are talking to me, &Little girl. Take it easy. I promise to buy you what you want after cutting a tooth. Not now. &
I don&t want to have new teeth as well as opening eyes because of Aunt Lupe&s beautiful smile. Nevertheless, dreams never meet dawn.
Chapter Five-01-Six& Silence Admired
六章 &崇拜沉默
The day Aunt dead, when Darius was pointing at the cloud, saying that is God! From then on, I got to like that kid. God is sared, said by Grandma. Although I never know what sared is. You should never hope Grandma would tell you some day. She was kneeing herself there, closing her eyes, praying and praying. During the time nobody could put ants in her pants.
Just in that way, there was Grandma that day, just like what she does everyday. The difference is that Aunt was at her side, sleeping, Aunt dead. But at the same day, Darius recognized God. I think Darius is wiser than Grandma, at least on that day. I sank into the fond of that kid. Although he also chased me with a stick in his hand, which touched a rat sometimes.
I studied Darius`s God. He is right. Of course, I dare not introduce his God to Grandma. That cloud was frilled by the golden light, which seemed like a dot of tear, hanging at the little sky. You know, the sky is not big enough all the time.
I asked Darius, is God sared? Darius faced me, making his eyes a seam, as he was also facing the sun who was falling into the valley of Chicago. He said that Aunt would have the answer.
From that day on, I also began to admire his silence.
Chapter Five-05-Six &Still Willing to Be My Own
I am always sitting in the corner of the surrounded wall, dark and grey, imagining, adressing extravagantly colorful descriptions, just like the cobwebs living on the wallI miss the four skinny trees with skinning necks, wandering whether they have been flourishing and grow in the wind and rainstormI can not forget the word that Aunt Lupe told me before her death. &You just remember to keep writing. It will keep you free.&, though I still don&t know her meaning at present.
I wander whether Aunt Lupe is happy or not there, whether she is in the liberty, and I also wander whether she is looking at me and understanding me. Despite that the house as the garden which I want seldom appears in my dream, I am still happy, because I have books and stories, can even put the house and the ghost which makes me unhappy into the story.
I wander whether I will be disappearing someday. Whether there will be a discomforting ghost when I go to Aunt Lupe. Imagining that I was not me but Cathy, whether I would hate Joe or not, a boy full of danger and always grumble unhappily as she did. Imagining I was the sky, whether I should accept the name &God&, which Darius called me and then rain a lot for people a lot, praying as Grandma, could be busy doing a lot, as busy as a bee everyday.
I am still willing to be my own. Although there was so many gloomy colors in my memory, I feel lucky to understand the four trees, I know their secret. Although I am a tiny thing, and have no house of my own, I still have the Mango and Aunt Lupe who was willing to listen to my stories and poems. They will exist in my memory forever. I am always dreaming, intwining my webs of fairy tales freely, as the cobwebs on the dark and grey wall, they are slim and fragile but they can permeate the sunshine, still shining lively in the wind, shaking.
Chapter Five-07-Six No More Dreams in Mango Street
插章第五-07-第六 不再在芒果街梦想
Although I have got myself, my heart seldom calms down as if waves are always crazy when Aunt Lupe came into my mind like a lingering pet on the web. Her pale face, like a upset lily, was seen in my dreams for several times and I saw her skinny body lying in her lazy bed, which reminds me of the freedom mentioned by her and of the shaking of the sky with my own soul&
尽管我找回了自己，但卢佩婶婶却像博客宠物一样，经常在我的大脑里游荡，于是我的心，就像狂涛翻卷的海浪。我几次梦里看到她面容如百合般苍白，看到她瘦弱身躯侧卧的病床，想起她对我说的自由，用灵魂把天空摇晃&&
Aunt Lupe has unwillingly gone away into the west, who was still experiencing her great long pain, even if she has been longing for her freedom owned by a cloud with a wind in the sky. She could not master her own fate and God calls on her back to the heaven. Aunt Lupe does not do wrong, but the fate has not given her the chance to explain and she was not allowed to have any hesitation.
卢佩婶婶走了，无奈地走了，带着多年的创伤，尽管她渴望自由，要像云朵一样，在天空中随风飘荡，可她却无法主宰自己，上帝依然召她去了天堂。卢佩婶婶没错，命运往往总是不给你机会解释，不容你彷徨。
Now, I am no longer that naive young girl, full of hope and wishes for the future even if I reluctantly came to the Mango Street, which does not belong to me. I know that Mango Street is definitely not a safe port for my lifelong stay.
如今我已不再是那个单纯的小姑娘，我憧憬着未来的很多希望。虽然我无奈地来到了芒果街，来到了这个本不属于我的地方，但我知道，芒果街绝非我生命长河中的避风港。
Aunt Lupe passed away, which makes me stronger. I do not put up with the control of my life, I`d like to find my dreams of bright future: It is a glory myth, which I am looking forward to, drifting in an endless ocean, cloud-gone with a wind in the brilliant sky, because of my soul-town far away. When will the heaven and earth change into the ark, life turn into oceans, oceans direct the Ark, my willing soul go smoothly and no more dreams of mine exist in Mango Street?
卢佩婶婶走了，她的离去使我更加坚强。我不想无奈地忍受命运的支配，不想像婶婶那样。我要寻找我的梦，让我的生命绽放光芒：那是一个美丽的神话，我期待着我的梦想，漂泊在无涯的海洋，是我寻梦的地方；天空绚丽的云朵，绘成片片色彩，随风荡漾，我欲乘风而去，因为远方有我心灵的故乡。何时天地变方舟？何时人生变海洋？何时海洋舵走方舟？何时我不再无奈地渴望？何时我不再在芒果街梦想？
Chapter Five-08-Six &Wise Lisa
插章第五-08-第六 智慧的丽萨
Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one---counting from right to left, there is a little house with red brick on the roof in Mango Street. Green vines, which I&ve never seen, are climbing on the walls, blue, white, yellow, pink, purple, colorfully peeping out from the spreading green.
芒果街的小屋，1、2、3、4、5、6、7、8&&从右往左数，那座小屋的房顶有红色的瓦，墙壁上尽是些绿色的藤蔓在爬，蓝、白、黄、粉、紫，五颜六色，探头出墙的是我从见过的一朵朵小花&&
&You get up too late, honey!& Mom is always murmuring that. The little girl, Lisa, is the only owner of the house. Oh, I have to say, she is the wisest person in the world besides God.
&亲爱的，你起得太晚了！&妈妈总是在这样的时候对我说这样的话。绿藤花墙内的小主人叫丽萨。哦，我得说，这个世界上最有智慧的，除了上帝，顶属她！
Lisa&s life was given by her younger brother&s in utero. She&s been weak and sick since she was born. Oh, poor Lisa, she&s always lying in her bed engraved with white porcelain flowers, staring at the morning glories on the window sill.
丽萨的命，是用她未出生的弟弟的命换来的。出生时就体弱多病的丽萨，总是可怜兮兮地躺在她那镶着白瓷花的小床上，静静地看着窗台上的牵牛花。
&Oh, of course I&m not afraid of death.& Weakly, she said that to me, &I&m only afraid that I should leave the world earlier than my parents. They would deadly think of me!&
&哦，死，我不怕！&她柔弱地笑着对我说，&我只害怕爸妈因我会早早离去而生揪心的牵挂。&
She said she would go on a trip to some state in the north, where the air is as clean as flowers. She would stay on north pole ultimately, with white glaciers and glory aurora and steady colorful cloud. Sunlight glittering her limpid eyes, she said God is right there waiting for her.&
她说她要去旅行，去北部的国家，因为她觉得那里的空气纯净如花。她说她要待在北极，因为那里有白白的冰川、炫目的极光和凝重的彩霞。阳光闪耀着她的明眸时，她说上帝会在那里等她。
I think Lisa is the wise-top, as wise as God. She is not like Carlos and me, who was fighting neither is she like Renee, who cried for the loss of a rabbit. Yes, I think she is as wise as God. I believe she is free to go to anywhere, disappearing in the aurora, just like the morning glories disappearing in the wind.
丽萨，我想她是最智慧的，像上帝一样。她不会像卡洛斯和我一样，为最后一块曲奇饼而吵闹叫骂，也不会像蕾妮一样因为不见了兔子而哭泣出呆傻。是的，我想她像上帝一样智慧，想蒸发就蒸发，消失在极光中，风随她而逝，还有窗台上的那朵牵牛花。
Chapter Six& Bums in the Attic
阁楼上的流浪者
I want a house on a hill like the ones with the gardens where Papa works. We go on Sundays, Papa's day off. I used to go. I don't anymore. You don't like to go out with us, Papa says. Getting too old? Getting too stuck-up, says Nenny. I don't tell them I am ashamed--all of us staring out the window like the hungry. I am tired of looking at what we can't have. When we win the lottery...Mama begins, and then I stop listening.
People who live on hills sleep so close to the stars they forget those of us who live too much on earth. They don't look down at all except to be content to live on hills. They have nothing to do with last week's garbage or fear of rats. Night comes. Nothing wakes them but the wind.
One day I'll own my own house, but I won't forget who I am or where I came from. Passing bums will ask, Can I come in? I'll offer them the attic, ask them to stay, because I know how it is to be without a house.
Some days after dinner, guests and I will sit in front of a fire. Floorboards will squeak upstairs. The attic grumble.
Rats? they'll ask.
Bums, I'll say, and I'll be happy.
Chapter Six-11-Seven&&The BumIs Also of Dreams
插章第六-11-第七 流浪者也有梦想
Often did the bum mention the dream to me that he is eager to have such a house of his own that he would have been together with his family.
I am curious at his stray. He told me that someone is awake, while others are asleep, and that he was the latter who was always on the way forward without any meaningful aims of life and missed the sceneries of both sides.
He said that life is a colorful road which is such an ornament of life that we have been desperately running towards the end wit that the road is of so much body and so little soul in deep sleep that he has to throw his soul far
bums are always waiting so long so that the soul could have caught up with the body.
I am very curious about his idea. He explained to me that the dream of life is mostly beautiful.
Where is my dream? I was wandering in the mango streets, and was lost in thought in my small house. My grandma has not told the beauty of dream.
The bum said that my attic was so warm that he felt at home.
The bum is gone. I was much pleased at his saying that he has to continue to pursue his dream.
With my own house, my dream is that I have my own habitat. I am eager to be close to the stars far away in the sky, but I do not want to abandon my land. Those who has not gone far away from their hometown do not understand that their roots have been firmly at the root of the earth. If only I see the bum again, I am eager to say to him: &Thanks from the bottom of my heart!&
我有了自己的房子，我的梦想就是拥有自己的栖息之地。我想靠近星星更近一些，可是我又不想离开我的土地。那些没有远离故乡的人不会明白，自己的根已经牢牢的扎在了土里。当我再看到这个流浪者，我会跟他说：&谢谢你！&
Chapter Seven &Mango Says Goodbye Sometimes
芒果有时说再见
I like to tell stories. I tell them inside my head. I tell them after the mailman says, Here's your mail. Here's your mail he said.
I make a story for my life, for each step my brown shoe takes. I say, &And so she trudged up the wooden stairs, her sad brown shoes taking her to the house she never liked.&
I like to tell stories. I am going to tell you a story about a girl who didn't want to belong.
We didn't always live on Mango Street. Before that we lived on Loomis on the third floor, and before that we lived on Keeler. Before Keeler it was Paulina, but what I remember most is Mango Street, sad red house, the house I belong but do not belong to.
I put it down on paper and then the ghost does not ache so much. I write it down and Mango says goodbye sometimes. She does not hold me with both arms. She sets me free.
One day I will pack my bags of books and paper. One day I will say goodbye to Mango. I am too strong for her to keep me here forever. One day I will go away.
Friends and neighbors will say, What happened to that Esperanza? Where did she go with all those books and paper? Why did she march so far away?
They will not know I have gone away to come back. For the ones I left behind. For the ones who cannot out.
Chapter Eight& Don`t Think of Me, Mango Street!
I don`t long for perishment. I know where I live is nothing serious, but for my soul destination, I am always belonge to my motherland -- the land where I had and have childhood guys, esp. where my greed originates, so I strongly miss grandma`s baconed chincken. Seldom do I taste that kind of piece of chicken, often that reminds me of her cooking-fire-reflected kind face.
Grandma`s house is far far away from the capital of my country -- Mexico City, where I would take a two and a half days to get, where Dad is now emplyeed as a peasant-worker. Meanwhile there, I make my primary schooling by handing in an addional high fee and a sum of unvoluntary denotion to the compulsory primary school, and where Mum goes busily and comes busily.
In the school, one of my habites is, not so good, not so bad, my unwilling putting-up despite my knowledge of nearly all the answer asked by the capital teachers. Under the care of Dad, I live a happy life, not so sad like that in Mango street.
The place where I live is a little house, no more than nine metres square, is not an attic where there is no rat, no sun-light day and night, but strengthening wings of mine flying for Mango street again so as to decrease my pain of soul. Parents` hardship of earning reminds me of sure working hard.&
All in Mango street never forget me, I know. In the no-more-than-nine-metres-square little dark house there are always busy beetles and vigorous kritsks, etc. beneath my peaceful quilt, I remember.
As soon as I graduate from a certain university in Chigago and earn a large sum of money, I will come back. I will turn the the no-more-than-nine-metres-square place into a memorial building for a cetain famous celebrate, which is so high, higher than TV tower in the capital.
Mango street, don`t think of me!
Chapter Nine &Grandma`s First!
姥姥初进植物园
The sea of the people in Mexico&s capital, the modern machine-line-like lift embarrassed my grandma, finding herself at no standing point of the base for her own feet, stumbling in the hall of the railway station, turned her into the city from her own historical countryside. Fewer considerations of that, brightly she saw me in a great surprise.
&I`m willing to take you to go to the arboretum tomorrow!& Grandma mentioned that with her bright smile still on ther face. Is it I who guides her or on verse the other? I wonder and can&t say it clear!
Now, the cherry blossom, it`s her own weather!
Cherry blossom, I love! It`s also Grandma`s favourite!
I got up much more earlier the next morning than the worm-catching birds, certainly, my natural fondness is the pink diamond-peral-dotted skirt and the bara&s white soft longing boot.
Out of door but not out of sight, we find surounded and the people croweded like the thieves` thick, as if all the ants are scrambling out of their privacy into the city`s large pants with the flooded-quick.
Hand in hand and side by side with Grandma, jumping and hopping, ups and downs, in the busy street, I get to the bus-stop. The bus is so crowded with so unlucky people who are like the pilchards in the can, one by one, neat and tidy, back to breast and breast to back, not so hot but with the forever-on air-conditioners in so hot a dedication, regardless of whether the pilchards are so cold or so hot, definitely not cool or warm. God! God is so busy that perhaps all the living-rooms in the high buildings in the modern City of Mexico are blank and empty!
Not only for the reason that the old grandma and the little girl have no seat, it`s also for that neither of us can bear the female conductor&s dolphin-like restless voice or the silent dumbness of the pilchards are hanged fluently in the bus.
Grandma and I have changed, just for a comfortable taxi.
The taxi is crawling just like a slow steady stiffened snail, but compared with those unlucky pilchards, I was happy, and Grandma makes her life-golden promise that she would give the payment for the texi, I feel more happy, Oho!
But not so far away from the arboretum, our survived texi gets in the glued jam, so we have to abandon the texi, cars many and many cars remind me of &the effectiveness of perspective & which the art teacher taught us in class.
Grandma and I join the queue of more other pilchards in the crowded sea, who are right there waiting for the No.1 bus..The alignment is so catching, just like the army to resist enemy, dotted with the heavy colourfu bags of various fruits and in varietes of jeans and trausers with many baby carriage in a long longing line reaching the very gate. The line is of no guns or horses or fires, but just like a titanic snake, unlike what Grandma often murmured.
After a long walk of struggle throughout of the busy people and crowded cars, at last we arrive at the longed-for arboretum, but out of the sight of Grandma, the beautiful cherry blossom, just only hair and back view, vagured and casted into the pavesoil.
Grandma murmured that the loneliness is quite different from the harassment which Grandma Liu felt in her first tip in the Prospect Garden described in the Dream of the Red Chamber, quite different!
Chapter Five-05-Six &The Scent Earth
Grandma opens my window and tells me that she sees two trees in front of it, just like the two mango trees in front of her garden in her childhood. The two mango trees far away were the biggest two country on the streets. Prince was born in one of them, that day, he came to earth, with the little green manaoke, small round abdomen. But the next day, Prince became elegant&and&talented, the wind fluttering his green cap. the prince smelt and look at the mango tree across the street, just on that day, in the other country, is given birth a beautiful princess small, delicate, and with a smile! Prince suddenly echocardiography, from the sudden sight, he is no longer uncertain.
姥姥打开我的窗，告诉我，她看到门前那两棵树就像她小时候门前的两棵芒果树。遥遥相对的两棵芒果树，是街上两个最大的国度。王子诞生在对街的那棵树，那一天，他来到人间，绿绿的脑壳，圆圆的小肚。可是第二天，王子就变得玉树临风了，碧绿的小帽迎风飞舞。王子带着英俊的微笑望向对街的芒果树，这一天，那个国度，诞生了一个美丽的公主！小小的，嫩嫩的，挂着笑容来到世间漫步！王子蓦然心动，从此视线不再飘忽。
Each night, the stars blink their eyes, and the breeze blows gently, and by the breeze, Prince tells sincere love to Princess, but the wind is too small, Princess did not hear anything. Prince looked at Princess quietly, all the words can not be delivered. Princess always smiled, as if admiring Prince's talent.
每个星光灿烂的夜里，王子借着微风向公主诉说着情愫，可是风太小了，公主听不到半个音符。王子默默望着公主，一肚子的话总也说不出。公主总是笑着，仿佛也对王子的才华暗暗倾慕佩服。
How time flies! The wind becomes heavier, contacting Prince and Princess.
&I will dance for you, you see, fruits are maturing! & Princess said.
&That`s great! I have been waiting for the time so long. & Prince said.
Princess dances and dances, the leaves accompanying with her. Prince laughs and claps. Suddenly, Princess turns around, leaves from the green mango tree which has given her life, and runs to Prince. Prince hastily goes down his mango tree. Prince and princess embraced gently, sitting under the Price&s tree.
时间飞逝，青春一度，转眼间已不见柳絮飞舞。风大起来，联系着王子与公主，公主说，我给你跳个舞吧，你看，瓜果梨桃日渐成熟！王子说,，好啊，我一直都想看你为我唱歌跳舞。公主摇曳着丰腴的身姿，抖落了一地的华丽的绿叶舞裙，渐渐变得稀疏。王子笑了，开心的手掌一直不停地鼓。忽然公主一个转身，脱离了生她养她的碧绿的芒果树，一直跑向王子的国度。王子忙不迭，失手落下了芒果树。王子与公主轻轻拥抱着，欢笑着坐在夏日王子国度的泥土。
&I have been waiting for you for a long time, I thought you did not care. & Prince said.
&I dare not come to you, I am afraid that if I get older and older, you may not love me any more.& Princess said.
&I care you!& Prince said gently.
王子说，我等了你很久，我以为你不在乎。公主说，我不敢来找你，我怕你看我变老变丑，不再欢欣鼓舞。王子抱着公主轻轻地说，我在乎。
In the next seven days, Prince and Princess were watching the sunrise together in the morning, and counted the stars at night. In the seventh day, the Prince looked at the Princess and said that wrinkles are covered with your skin! Finished, Prince smiled, kissed Princess, his dry mouth gradually blurred, dead. There will be no recovery. Princess tears sadly and buried soon together with Prince into the grave at the foot of Prince's country. The scent earth is their end-result of life.
王子与公主一起看了七天的日出，天上的星星一起数。第七天的时候，王子看着公主，说，你的皱纹爬满了你的皮肤！说完，王子笑笑，吻一下公主，干瘪的嘴巴渐渐模糊。王子死了，再也不会复苏。公主伤心地流泪，没过多久便与王子一起葬入了王子国度脚下的那座坟墓，清香的泥土就是他们一生的归宿。
Grandmother finished her story, tears blurring. Mango&s love with the scent earth is also our destination.
姥姥讲完这个故事，泪水模糊。芒果的爱情以及清香的泥土也是我们的归宿。
责编:janlee
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