Moonlight on the Lotus Pond
作者:朱自清
英译：王椒升
这几天心里颇不宁静。今晚在院子里坐着乘凉，忽然想起日日走过的荷塘，在这满月的光里，总该另有一番样子吧。月亮渐渐地升高了，墙外马路上孩子们的欢笑，已经听不见了；妻在屋里拍着闰儿，迷迷糊糊地哼着眠歌。我悄悄地披了大衫，带上门出去。
Of late, I have been in a rather uneasy frame of mind. Sitting in my courtyard enjoying the cool evening, I suddenly thought of the lotus pond that I pass on my way day in and day out. Tonight, it must have a charm all its own, bathed in the light of the full moon. The moon was now rising slowly. Beyond the wall, the happy laughter of children on the road had died away. So putting on my coat quietly, I went out closing the door softly behind me.
沿着荷塘，是一条曲折的小煤屑路。这是一条幽僻的路；白天也少人走，夜晚更加寂寞。荷塘四面，长着许多树，蓊蓊郁郁的。路的一旁，是些杨柳，和一些不知道名字的树。没有月光的晚上，这路上阴森森的，有些怕人。今晚却很好，虽然月光也还是淡淡的。
A path paved with coal-dust zigzags along the lotus pond, so secluded as to be little frequented in the daytime, to say nothing of its loneliness at night. Around the pond grows a profusion of luxuriant trees. On one side of the path are some willows and other plants whose names are unknown to me. On moonless nights, the place has a gloomy, somewhat forbidding appearance. But on this particular evening, it had a cheerful outlook, though the moon was pale.
曲曲折折的荷塘上面，弥望的是田田的叶子。叶子出水很高，像亭亭的舞女的裙。层层的叶子中间，零星地点缀着些白花，有袅娜地开着的，有羞涩地打着朵儿的；正如一粒粒的明珠，又如碧天里的星星，又如刚出浴的美人。微风过处，送来缕缕清香，仿佛远处高楼上渺茫的歌声似的。这时候叶子与花也有一丝的颤动，像闪电般，霎时传过荷塘的那边去了。叶子本是肩并肩密密地挨着，这便宛然有了一道凝碧的波痕。叶子底下是脉脉的流水，遮住了，不能见一些颜色；而叶子却更见风致了。
On the uneven surface of the pond, all one could see was a mass of leaves, all interlaced and shooting high above the water like the skirts of slim dancing girls. The leaves were dotted in between the layers with white flowers, some blooming gracefully; others, as if bashfully, still in bud. They were like bright pearls and stars in an azure sky. Their subtle fragrance was wafted by the passing breeze, in airy whiffs as the notes of a song coming faintly from some distant tower. There was a tremor on leaf and flower, which, with the suddenness of lightning, soon drifted to the far end of the pond. The leaves, jostling and overlapping, produced, as it were, a wave of deep green. Under the leaves, softly hidden from view, water was rippling even its colour was discernible so that the leaves looked more enchanting.
月光如流水一般，静静地泻在这一片叶子和花上。薄薄的青雾浮起在荷塘里。叶子和花仿佛在牛乳中洗过一样；又像笼着轻纱的梦。虽然是满月，天上却有一层淡淡的云，所以不能朗照；但我以为这恰是到了好处——酣眠固不可少，小睡也别有风味的。月光是隔了树照过来的，高处丛生的灌木，落下参差的斑驳的黑影，峭楞楞如鬼一般；弯弯的杨柳的稀疏的倩影，却又像是画在荷叶上。塘中的月色并不均匀；但光与影有着和谐的旋律，如梵婀玲上奏着的名曲。
Moonlight was flowing quietly like a stream down to the leaves and flowers. A light mist overspread the lotus pond. Leaf and flower seemed washed in milk. It was a full moon, but a pale cloud hanging overhead made it lose some of its brilliance. Moonlight was glowing from behind the trees, and the dense shrubs above cast down gloomy ghostlike shadows of varying lengths and shades of colour. But the beautiful sparse shadows of the arching willows were like a picture etched on the lotus leaves. Uneven as was the moonlight over the pond, there was a harmony between light and shade, rhythmic as a well-known melody played on the violin.
荷塘的四面，远远近近，高高低低都是树，而杨柳最多。这些树将一片荷塘重重围住；只在小路一旁，漏着几段空隙，像是特为月光留下的。树色一例是阴阴的，乍看像一团烟雾；但杨柳的丰姿，便在烟雾里也辨得出。树梢上隐隐约约的是一带远山，只有些大意罢了。树缝里也漏着一两点路灯光，没精打采的，是渴睡人的眼。这时候最热闹的，要数树上的蝉声与水里的蛙声；但热闹是它们的，我什么也没有。
Skirting the lotus pond, far and near, high and low, are trees among which willows predominate. They entirely envelop the pond, leaving only a few spaces on one side of the path, as if purposely for the moonbeams to penetrate. The trees were now all enshrouded in a heavy gloom, which at first sight looked like a pall of mist, but the lovely shape of the willows remained distinguishable in spite of it. Distant hills loomed above the tree-tops in dim outline. Here and there, a few rays from street-lamps filtered through the trees, listless as the eyes of one who is dozing. At this moment, most lively were the cicadas chirping in the trees and the frogs croaking under the water. But theirs was all the merry-making, in which I did not have the least share.
忽然想起采莲的事情来了。采莲是江南的旧俗，似乎很早就有，而六朝时为盛；从诗歌里可以约略知道。于是又记起《西洲曲》里的句子：采莲南塘秋，莲花过人头；低头弄莲子，莲子清如水。今晚若有采莲人，这儿的莲花也算得“过人头”了；只不见一些流水的影子，是不行的。这令我到底惦着江南了。
Then all of a sudden, I was reminded of the custom of plucking lotus seeds prevalent in Jiangnan, handed down probably from a very remote period and becoming quite popular during the Six Dynasties, as may be seen roughly in songs and poems that survive. This in turn revived my memory of the following lines in the‘West Islet Ditty: In autumn I pluck lotus seeds in the South Pond, Tall are the lotus plants, taller than me. My head bent low, with lotus seeds I play, Green, green as water all the lotus seeds I see.‘ If there were people plucking lotus seeds here tonight, they might indeed find lotus plants exceeding them in height；but the absence of the merest shadow of flowing water would spoil it. And that is what has set me thinking about Jiangnan.
