背影
(朱自清)
My Father's Back (translated by Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang)
我與父親不相見已二年餘了，我最不能忘記的是他的背影。那年冬天，祖母死了，父親的差使也交卸了，正是禍不單行的日子，我從北京到徐州，打算跟着父親奔喪回家。到徐州見着父親，看見滿院狼藉的東西，又想起祖母，不禁簌簌地流下眼淚。父親說，“事已如此，不必難過，好在天無絕人之路!”
Though it is over two years since I saw my father, I can never forget my last view of his back. That winter my grandmother died, and my father’s official appointment was terminated, for troubles never come singly. I went from Beijing to Xuzhou, to go back with him for the funeral. When I joined him in Xuzhou I found the courtyard strewn with things and could not help shedding tears at the thought of granny.
“What’s past is gone,” said my father. “It’s no use grieving. Heaven always leaves us some way out."
回家變賣典質，父親還了虧空;又借錢辦了喪事。這些日子，家中光景很是慘淡，一半爲了喪事，一半爲了父親賦閒。喪事完畢，父親要到南京謀事，我也要回北京唸書，我們便同行。
到南京時，有朋友約去遊逛，勾留了一日;第二日上午便須渡江到浦口，下午上車北去。父親因爲事忙，本已說定不送我，叫旅館裏一個熟識的茶房陪我同去。他再三囑咐茶房，甚是仔細。但他終於不放心，怕茶房不妥帖;頗躊躇了一會。其實我那年已二十歲，北京已來往過兩三次，是沒有甚麼要緊的了。他躊躇了一會，終於決定還是自己送我去。我兩三回勸他不必去;他只說，“不要緊，他們去不好!”
Once home he sold property and mortgaged the house to clear our debts, besides borrowing money for the funeral. Those were dismal days for our family, thanks to the funeral and father’s unemployment. After the burial he decided to go to Nanjing to look for a position, while I was going back to Beijing to study, so we traveled together. A friend kept me in Nanjing for a day to see the sights, and the next morning I was to cross the Yangtze to Pukou to take the afternoon train to the north. As father was busy he had decided not to see me off, and he asked a waiter we knew at our hotel to take me to the station, giving him repeated and most detailed instructions. Even so, afraid the fellow might let me down, he worried for quite a minute. As a matter of fact I was already twenty and had traveled to and from Beijing on several occasions, so there was no need for all this fuss. But after much hesitation he finally decided to see me off himself, though I told him again and again there was no need.
“Never mind,” he said. “I don’t want them to go.”
我們過了江，進了車站。我買票，他忙着照看行李。行李太多了，得向腳伕行些小費，纔可過去。他便又忙着和他們講價錢。我那時真是聰明過分，總覺他說話不大漂亮，非自己插嘴不可。但他終於講定了價錢;就送我上車。他給我揀定了靠車門的一張椅子;我將他給我做的紫毛大衣鋪好坐位。他囑我路上小心，夜裏警醒些，不要受涼。又囑託茶房好好照應我。我心裏暗笑他的'迂;他們只認得錢，託他們直是白託!而且我這樣大年紀的人，難道還不能料理自己麼?唉，我現在想想，那時真是太聰明瞭!
We crossed the Yangtze and arrived at the station, where I bought a ticket while he saw to my luggage. This was so bulky that we had to hire a porter, and father started bargaining over the price. I was such a bright young man that I thought some of his remarks undignified, and butted in the rain, choosing me a seat by the door, on which I spread the black sheepskin coat he had made me. He warned me to be on my guard during the journey, and to take care at night not to catch cold. Then he urged the attendant to keep an eye on me, while I laughed up my sleeve at him --- all such men understood was money! And wasn’t I old enough to look after myself? Ah, thinking back, what a bright young man I was!
我說道，“爸爸，你走吧。”他望車外看了看，說，“我買幾個橘子去。你就在此地，不要走動。”我看那邊月臺的柵欄外有幾個賣東西的等着顧客。走到那邊月臺，須穿過鐵道，須跳下去又爬上去。父親是一個胖子，走過去自然要費事些。我本來要去的，他不肯，只好讓他去。我看見他戴着黑布小帽，穿着黑布大馬褂，深青布棉袍，蹣跚地走到鐵道邊，慢慢探身下去，尚不大難。可是他穿過鐵道，要爬上那邊月臺，就不容易了。他用兩手攀着上面，兩腳再向上縮;他肥胖的身子向左微傾，顯出努力的樣子。這時我看見他的背影，我的淚很快地流下來了。我趕緊拭乾了淚，怕他看見，也怕別人看見。我再向外看時，他已抱了硃紅的橘子望回走了。過鐵道時，他先將橘子散放在地上，自己慢慢爬下，再抱起橘子走。到這邊時，我趕緊去攙他。他和我走到車上，將橘子一股腦兒放在我的皮大衣上。於是撲撲衣上的泥土，心裏很輕鬆似的，過一會說，“我走了;到那邊來信!”我望着他走出去。他走了幾步，回過頭看見我，說，“進去吧，裏邊沒人。”等他的背影混入來來往往的人裏，再找不着了，我便進來坐下，我的眼淚又來了。
“Don’t wait, father,” I said.
He looked out of the window.
“I’ll just buy you a few tangerines,” he said. “Wait here, and don’t wander off.”
Just outside the station were some vendors. To reach them he had to cross the lines, which involved jumping down from the platform and clambering up again. As my father is a stout man this was naturally not easy for him. But when I volunteered to go instead he would not hear of it. So I watched him in his black cloth cap and jacket and dark blue cotton-padded gown, as he waddled to the tracks and climbed slowly down --- not so difficult after all. But when he had crossed the lines he had trouble clambering up the other side. He clutched the platform with both hands and tried to heave his legs up, straining to the left. At the sight of his burly back tears started to my eyes, but I wiped them hastily so that neither he nor anyone else might see them. When next I looked out he was on his way back with some ruddy tangerines. He put these on the platform before climbing slowly down to cross the lines, which he did after picking the fruit up. When he reached the train together an he plumped the tangerines down on my coat. Then he brushed the dust from his clothes, as if that was a weight off his mind.
“I’ll be going now, son,” he said presently. “Write to me once you get there.”
I watched him walk away. After a few steps he turned back to look at me.
“Go on in!” he called. “There’s no one in the compartment.”
When his back disappeared among the bustling crowd I went in and sat down, and my eyes were wet again.
近幾年來，父親和我都是東奔西走，家中光景是一日不如一日。他少年出外謀生，獨力支持，做了許多大事。那知老境卻如此頹唐!他觸目傷懷，自然情不能自已。情鬱於中，自然要發之於外;家庭瑣屑便往往觸他之怒。他待我漸漸不同往日。但最近兩年的不見，他終於忘卻我的不好，只是惦記着我，惦記着我的兒子。我北來後，他寫了一信給我，信中說道，“我身體平安，惟膀子疼痛利害，舉箸提筆，諸多不便，大約大去之期不遠矣。”我讀到此處，在晶瑩的淚光中，又看見那肥胖的，青布棉袍，黑布馬褂的背影。唉!我不知何時再能與他相見!
The last few years father and I have been moving from place to place, while things have been going from bad to worse at home. When he left his family as a young man to look for a living, he succeeded in supporting himself and did extremely well. No one could have foreseen such a come-down in his old age! The thought of this naturally depressed him, and as he had to vent his irritation somehow, he often lost his temper over trifles. That was why his manner towards me had gradually changed. But during these last two years of separation he has forgotten my faults and simply wants to see me and my son. After I came north he wrote to me:
“My health is all right, only my arm aches so badly I find it hard to hold the pen. Probably the end is not far away.”
When I read this, through a mist of tears I saw his blue cotton-padded gown and black jacket once more as his burly figure walked away from me. Shall we ever meet again?
