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[[原创地带]] Smiley's People汉译73

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发表于 2024-6-28 07:18:09 | 显示全部楼层 |阅读模式
本帖最后由 agent124 于 2024-6-28 08:15 编辑


第9章

The low skyline was filled with cranes and gasometers; lazy chimneys spouted ochre smoke into the rainclouds. If it had not been Saturday, Smiley would have used public transport but on Saturdays he was prepared to drive, though he lived on terms of mutual hatred with the combustion engine. He had crossed the river at Vauxhall Bridge. Greenwich lay behind him. He had entered the flat dismembered hinterland of the docks. While the wiper blades shuddered, large raindrops crept through the bodywork of his unhappy little English car. Glum children, sheltering in a bus-stop, said “Keep straight on, guv.” He had shaved and bathed, but he had not slept. He had sent Vladimir’s telephone bill to Lacon, requesting a breakdown of all traceable calls as a matter of urgency. His mind, as he drove, was clear, but prey to anarchic changes of mood.
低低的天际线上布满了起重机和储气罐;懒洋洋的烟囱向雨云中喷出赭色的烟雾。如果不是星期六,斯迈利会乘坐公交,但每逢星期六,他都自己开车(英国周末的公交车班次比平时少——译注),尽管他与内燃机很合不来。他在沃克斯豪尔桥过河。格林尼治已经在他后面了。他进入了码头后面支离破碎的平地。雨刷在颤抖,豆大的雨滴悄悄地穿过他那辆忧郁的英国小车的身体。躲在公交车站里的孩子们闷闷不乐地说:“继续往前开,老板。”他刮了胡子,洗了澡,但没有睡觉。他把弗拉基米尔的电话账单寄给了雷肯,要求紧急提供所有可追踪的通话详情。他开车时头脑清醒,情绪却变化无常,难以控制。

He was wearing a brown tweed overcoat, the one he used for travelling. He navigated a roundabout, mounted a rise, and suddenly a fine Edwardian pub stood before him, under the sign of a red-faced warrior. Battle-of-the-Nile Street rose away from it towards an island of worn grass, and on the island stood St. Saviour’s Church, built of stone and flint, proclaiming God’s message to the crumbling Victorian warehouses. Next Sunday’s preacher, said the poster, was a female major in the Salvation Army, and in front of the poster stood the lorry: a sixty-foot giant trailer, crimson, its side windows fringed with football pennants and a motley of foreign registration stickers covering one door. It was the biggest thing in sight, bigger even than the church. Somewhere in the background he heard a motor-bike engine slow down and then start up again, but he didn’t even bother to look back. The familiar escort had followed him since Chelsea; but fear, as he used to preach at Sarratt, is always a matter of selection.
他穿了一件棕色斜纹软呢大衣,那是他旅行时穿的。他穿过一个环岛,爬上一个高坡,突然,一个精美的爱德华时代建筑风格的酒馆出现在他面前,挂着一个红脸武士的招牌。尼罗河战役街从酒馆向一堆烂草延伸,烂草堆上矗立着用石头和燧石建造的圣救世主教堂,向摇摇欲坠的维多利亚式仓库宣讲上帝的信息。海报上说,下周日的布道是救世军(基督教的一个教派,它的神职人员都用军衔来称呼,但不是真正的军人——译注)的一名女少校,海报前面停着一辆卡车,是一辆六十英尺长的巨型拖车,深红色,侧窗上挂满了足球队的彩旗,一扇车门上贴满了杂七杂八的在其他国家办的注册贴纸。这是眼前最大的东西,甚至比教堂还大。他听到背后有摩托车减速又重新加速的声音,但他甚至不想回头看一眼。从切尔西开始,熟悉的护卫就一直跟着他;但是,正如他在萨拉特讲课时曾经说过的那样,恐惧一直是个主观选择的问题。

Following the footpath, Smiley entered a graveyard with no graves. Lines of headstones made up the perimeter, a climbing frame and three standard-pattern new houses occupied the central ground. The first house was called Zion, the second had no name at all, the third was called Number Three. Each had wide windows but Number Three had lace curtains, and when he pushed the gate all he saw was one shadow upstairs. He saw it stationary, then he saw it sink and vanish as if it had been sucked into the floor, and for a second he wondered, in a quite dreadful way, whether he had just witnessed another murder. He rang the bell and angel chimes exploded inside the house. The door was made of rippled glass. Pressing his eye to it, he made out brown stair carpet and what looked like a perambulator. He rang the bell again and heard a scream. It started low and grew louder and at first he thought it was a child, then a cat, then a whistling kettle. It reached its zenith, held it, then suddenly stopped, either because someone had taken the kettle off the boil or because it had blown its nozzle off. He walked round to the back of the house. It was the same as the front, except for the drain-pipes and a vegetable patch, and a tiny goldfish pond made of pre-cast slab. There was no water in the pond, and consequently no goldfish either; but in the concrete bowl lay a yellow wooden duck on its side. It lay with its beak open and its staring eye turned to Heaven and two of its wheels were still going round.
沿着人行道,斯迈利进入了一个没有坟墓的墓地。一排排墓碑占满了四周,一个给小孩玩的攀爬架和三座标准样式的新房子占据了中心地带。第一座房子叫锡安,第二座没有名字,第三座叫三号。每栋房子都有宽大的窗户,但三号有蕾丝窗帘,当他推开大门时,只看到楼上有一个影子。他看到它静止不动,然后他看到它沉下去,消失了,就像被吸进了地板里,有那么一瞬间,他非常害怕地想,他是不是又目睹了一桩谋杀案。他按响了门铃,顿时天使报时钟(流行于欧洲和北美的一种圣诞装饰品——译注)的声音响彻整座房子。门是由波纹玻璃制成的。他凑近一看,发现楼梯上铺着棕色的地毯,还有一个像是婴儿车的东西。他又按了一下门铃,听到一声尖叫。起初声音很低,后来越来越大,起初他以为是个孩子,后来又以为是只猫,再后来又以为是带哨水壶响了。声音达到了顶点,持续了一会,然后突然停了,可能是因为有人把水壶从炉子上拿开了,也可能是因为水壶的喷嘴被水汽冲掉了。他绕到房子后面。房子后面和前面差不多,只是多了排水管和一块菜地,还有一个用预制板砌成的小金鱼池。池塘里没有水,因此也没有金鱼;但在碗型的池子里却侧放着一只黄色的木鸭子。它张着嘴,瞪着眼睛望着天,两个轮子还在空转。

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