The Kitemaker扎风筝的人

There was but one tree in the street—an ancient banyan which had grown through the cracks of an abandoned mosque—and little Ali’s kite had caught in its branches.

街上只有一棵树——一棵从废弃清真寺的裂缝中生长出来的老榕树——小阿里的风筝就卡在了老榕树的枝上。

The boy， barefoot and clad only in a torn shirt， ran along the cobbled stones of the narrow street to where his grandfather sat nodding dreamily in the sunshine of their back courtyard.

男孩光着脚丫子，只穿一件破衬衫，沿着铺有鹅卵石的狭窄街道跑去找爷爷，只见爷爷坐在他们家的后院晒着太阳，迷迷糊糊地打着盹。

“Grandfather？” shouted the boy. “The kite has gone！”

“爷爷？”男孩喊道，“风筝飞跑了！”

The old man woke from his daydream with a start.

老人猛地从白日梦中惊醒。

“Did the twine break？” he asked. “I know that kite-twine is not what it used to be.”

“绳断了吗？”他问，“我知道风筝线不再是以前那样了。”

“No， grandfather， the kite is stuck in the banyan tree.”

“没断，爷爷，是风筝卡在榕树上了。”

The old man chuckled. “You have yet to learn how to fly a kite properly， my child. And I am too old to teach you， that’s the pity of it. But you shall have another.” He had just finished making a new kite from bamboo， paper and thin silk， and it lay in the sun， firming up. It was a pale pink kite， with a small green tail. The old man handed it to Ali， and the boy raised himself on his toes and kissed his grandfather’s hollowed-out cheek.

老人轻声笑道：“孩子，你还没学会怎么正确放风筝。我年纪太大，教不了你了，真可惜，但你还会有一个风筝的。”他刚刚用竹子、纸和薄绸扎了一个新风筝。这个新风筝正躺在阳光下，渐渐晒得硬实起来。这是个淡粉色的风筝，带有一条绿色的小尾巴。老人把它递给阿里，男孩踮起脚尖，吻了吻爷爷凹陷的脸颊。

“I will not lose this one，” he said. “This kite will fly like a bird.” And he turned on his heels1 and skipped out of the courtyard.

“我不会把这个放丢的。”他说，“这个风筝会像鸟儿一样飞翔。”说完，他一转身，蹦蹦跳跳地跑出了院子。

The old man remained dreaming in the sun. His kite-shop had gone. The premises long since sold to a junk-dealer， but he still made kites for his own amusement and for the benefit of his grandson， Ali. Not many people bought kites in these days of rockets and sputniks. Adults disdained them， and children preferred to spend their money at the movies. Moreover， there were few open spaces left for the flying of kites. The city had swallowed up the green maidan which had stretched from the old fort walls to the riverbank.

老人还在太阳下做着梦。他的风筝店没了。店面很久以前就卖给了一个废品旧货商，但他还在为自娱自乐、为孙子阿里扎风筝。在发射火箭和人造卫星的时代，买风筝的人不多了。大人们对风筝不屑一顾，孩子们则更喜欢花钱看电影。此外，几乎没有开阔的空地能用来放风筝了。城市早已吞没从旧堡墙延伸到河岸的绿草地。

But the old man remembered a time when grown men flew kites from the maidan， the kites swerving and swooping in the sky， until the string of one was cut. Then the defeated but liberated kite would float away into the blue unknown.

不过，老人还记得，当年有一群成年男子在草地上放风筝，只见他们的风筝在空中翻腾、俯冲，直到其中一个风筝被割断了线。接着，那个落败却又重获自由的风筝飘向了蓝色的未知世界。

Kite-flying was then the sport of kings， and the old man remembered how the Nawab2 himself would come down to the riverbank with his retinue， and join in this noble pastime. There was time in those days to spend an idle hour with a gay， dancing strip of paper. Now everyone hurried， hurried in a heat of hope， and delicate things like kites and daydreams were trampled underfoot.

当时，放风筝是权贵们的娱乐活动，老人还记得纳瓦布本人及其随从来到河边参加这项贵族娱乐活动的场景。那时候有的是时间，人们会花上一小时，跟一张欢快舞动的纸条度过一段闲暇时光。现在，每个人都匆匆忙忙的，满怀热望地匆忙，像风筝和白日梦这样精致的东西都被踩在了脚下。

He， Mahmood the kitemaker， had in the prime of his life been well-known throughout the city. Some of his more elaborate kites sold for as much as three or four rupees. Upon the request of the Nawab he had once made a very special kind of kite， unlike any that had been seen in the district. It consisted of a series of small， very light paper discs， trailing on a thin bamboo frame.

他是扎风筝的马哈茂德，风华正茂时在全城赫赫有名。他扎的风筝里，稍微精致一点的售价高达三四卢比。他曾经应纳瓦布的要求，扎了一个非常特殊的风筝，与当地能见到的所有风筝都不一样。那个风筝由一串又小又轻的纸盘扎成，拖在一个细竹架上。

To the extremity of each disc he fixed a sprig of grass， forming a balance on both sides. The surface of the foremost disc was slightly convex， and a fantastic face was painted on it， having two eyes made of small mirrors. The disc， decreasing in size from head to tail， assumed an undulatory form. It required great skill to raise this cumbersome device from the ground， and only Mahmood could manage it.

他在每个纸盘的末端固定一小枝草，让两边达成平衡。最前端的纸盘表面微微凸起，上面画着一张奇异的脸，脸上的两只眼睛由小镜子制成。纸盘从头到尾逐渐变小，呈波浪形。要把这个笨重的风筝从地面放飞，需要高超的技巧，只有马哈茂德能做到。

Everyone had of course heard of the “Dragon Kite” that Mahmood had built， and word went round that it possessed supernatural powers. A large crowd assembled on the maidan to watch its first public launching in the presence of the Nawab. At the first attempt it refused to leave the ground.

当然，每个人都听说过马哈茂德扎的这个“龙风筝”，传说它具有超自然的力量。一大群人聚集在草地上，观看它在纳瓦布面前首次公开放飞。第一次尝试放飞，“龙风筝”拒绝离开地面。

And then the wind came from the right direction， and the Dragon Kite soared into the sky， wriggling the way higher and higher， with the sun still glinting in its devil-eyes. And when it went very high， it pulled fiercely on the twine， and Mahmood’s young sons had to help him with the reel; but still the kite pulled， determined to be free， to break loose， to live a life of its own. And eventually it did so.

随后，风从正确的方向吹来，“龙风筝”扶摇直上，扭动着越飞越高，而太阳在它恶魔般的眼睛里闪闪发光。“龙风筝”飞到很高很高的天空中，使劲拽着风筝线，马哈茂德年幼的儿子们不得不帮他拉住线轴，但“龙风筝”还是拽着线，决心要自由，决心要挣脱，决心要过自己的生活。最后，它终于做到了。