第八章（第2/11页）

The roaring and swaying was overhead, only cold currents came down below. Connie was strangely excited in the wood, and the colour flew in her cheeks, and burned blue in her eyes. She walked ploddingly, picking a few primroses and the first violets, that smelled sweet and cold, sweet and cold. And she drifted on without knowing where she was.

风在头顶盘旋怒号，阵阵凉气向下袭来。康妮漫步林间，心情莫名激动，两颊泛红，双目闪着蓝光。她放慢脚步，采摘樱草花以及乍放的紫罗兰，花朵嗅起来芳香扑鼻，但又寒意逼人。她漫无目的地走着，全然不知自己身在何处。

Till she came to the clearing, at the end of the wood, and saw the green-stained stone cottage, looking almost rosy, like the flesh underneath a mushroom, its stone warmed in a burst of sun. And there was a sparkle of yellow jasmine by the door; the closed door. But no sound; no smoke from the chimney; no dog barking.

她来到森林尽头的空旷所在，那座绿色的石屋映入眼帘，远远望去几乎是玫瑰色的，像菌盖背面的色泽，整座石屋沐浴在温暖的阳光中。大门紧闭，门边几簇黄色素馨花闪闪发光。但四周寂静无声，烟囱没有冒烟，耳边也未闻犬吠。

She went quietly round to the back, where the bank rose up; she had an excuse, to see the daffodils.

康妮悄悄绕到屋后，那里地势陡升，她是来看水仙花的，这是个不错的托词。

And they were there, the short-stemmed flowers, rustling and fluttering and shivering, so bright and alive, but with nowhere to hide their faces, as they turned them away from the wind.

它们就生长在那儿，花梗较短，瑟瑟响，摇摆着，颤抖着，色泽鲜亮，充满生命活力，风儿吹来，它们便背过脸去，却不知将粉面藏在何处。

They shook their bright, sunny little rags in bouts of distress. But perhaps they liked it really; perhaps they really liked the tossing.

花瓣鲜亮娇小，痛苦地摆动着。但或许它们其实喜欢如此，喜欢在风中摇曳着身姿。

Constance sat down with her back to a young pine-tree, that wayed against her with curious life, elastic, and powerful, rising up. The erect, alive thing, with its top in the sun! And she watched the daffodils turn golden, in a burst of sun that was warm on her hands and lap. Even she caught the faint, tarry scent of the flowers. And then, being so still and alone, she seemed to bet into the current of her own proper destiny. She had been fastened by a rope, and jagging and snarring like a boat at its moorings; now she was loose and adrift.

康斯坦斯坐了下来，倚着一棵小松树，那树在她背后起伏摇摆，展现出非同寻常的生命力和柔韧性，向上弹起时力道十足。它充满活力，腰杆挺拔，在阳光中高昂着头颅。阳光瞬间变得异常灿烂，给水仙花镀上金色，康妮目睹着这一切，感觉自己的四肢也温暖起来。她甚至闻到花朵淡淡的芬芳。如此静谧，如此寂寥，她似乎置身于自己命运的洪流中。她曾经被绳索拴住，像系泊在水边的小船，随着波浪颠簸摇摆，而如今，却得以摆脱束缚，任意漂流。

The sunshine gave way to chill; the daffodils were in shadow, dipping silently. So they would dip through the day and the long cold night. So strong in their frailty!

阳光让位于寒冷，水仙花为阴影所笼罩，静默地垂下了头。它们就这样低垂粉颈，度过白天，熬过凄冷的长夜。看似弱不禁风，实则坚忍不拔！

She rose, a little stiff, took a few daffodils, and went down. She hated breaking the flowers, but she wanted just one or two to go with her. She would have to go back to Wragby and its walls, and now she hated it, especially its thick walls. Walls! Always walls! Yet one needed them in this wind.

她站起身来，腿脚稍感麻木，采几朵水仙，随即转身离去。她不愿折断花枝，但却只想要采撷一两朵与己相伴。她不得不回转拉格比，回到那难以逾越的墙壁中去，然而现在，却对那宅邸，尤其是厚重的墙壁，满怀恨意。墙壁！总是墙壁！但在这凛冽的寒风中，人往往需要它们的庇护。

When she got home Clifford asked her: "Where did you go?" "Right across the wood! Look, aren't the little daffodils adorable? To think they should come out of the earth!” "Just as much out of air and sunshine," he said.

她回到家，克利福德问道：“你去哪儿了？”“径直穿过树林！看，这些水仙花多么讨人喜欢啊！想想看，它们竟然生发自泥土！”“也少不了空气和阳光。”他补充说。

"But modelled in the earth," she retorted, with a prompt contradiction, that surprised her a little.

“但却是在泥土中长成的。”康妮随即作出反驳，速度之快让她自己都暗暗吃惊。

The next afternoon she went to the wood again. She followed the broad riding that swerved round and up through the larches to a spring called John's Well. It was cold on this hillside, and not a flower in the darkness of larches. But the icy little spring softly pressed upwards from its tiny well-bed of pure, reddish-white pebbles. How icy and clear it was! Brilliant! The new keeper had no doubt put in fresh pebbles. She heard the faint tinkle of water, as the tiny overflow trickled over and downhill. Even above the hissing boom of the larchwood, that spread its bristling, leafless, wolfish darkness on the down-slope, she heard the tinkle as of tiny water-bells.