作品原文

冰心 《一只木屐》

淡金色的夕阳，像这条轮船一样，懒洋洋地停在这一块长方形的海上。两边码头上仓库的灰色大门，已经紧紧地关起了。一下午的嘈杂的人声，已经寂静了下来，只有乍起的晚风，在吹卷着码头上零乱的草绳和尘土。

我默默地倚伏在船栏上，周围是一片的空虚和沉重，时间一分一分地过去，苍茫的夜色，笼盖了下来。

猛抬头，我看见在离船不远的水面上，飘着一只木屐，它已被海水泡成黑褐色的了。它在摇动的波浪上，摇着、摇着，慢慢地往外移，仿佛要努力地摇到外面大海上去似的！

啊！我苦难中的朋友！你怎么知道我要悄悄地离开？你又怎么知道我心里丢不下那些把你穿在脚下的朋友？你从岸上跳进海中，万里迢迢地在船边护送着我？

过去几年的、在东京的苦闷不眠的夜晚——相伴我的只有瓦檐上的雨声，纸窗外的月色，更多的是空虚而沉重的、黑魆魆的长夜：而每一个不眠的夜晚，我都听到嘎达嘎达的木屐声音，一阵一阵的从我楼前走过。这声音，踏在石子路上，清空而又坚实：它不像我从前听过的、引人憎恨的、北京东单操场上日本军官的军靴声，也不像北京饭店的大厅上日本官员、绅士的皮鞋声。这是日本劳动人民的、风里雨里寸步不离的、清空而又坚实的声音……

我把双手交叉起，枕在脑后，随着一阵一阵的屐声，在想象中从穿着木屐的双脚，慢慢地向上看，我看到悲哀憔悴的穿着外褂、套着白罩衣的老人、老妇的脸；我看到痛苦愤怒的穿着工裤、披着蓑衣的工人、农民的脸；我看到忧郁彷徨的戴着四角帽、穿着短裙的青年、少女的脸……这些脸，都是我白天在街头巷尾不断看到的，这时都汇合了起来，从我楼前嘎达嘎达地走过。

“苦难中的朋友！在这里黑魆魆长夜，希望在哪里？你们这样嘎达嘎达地往哪里走呢？”在失眠的辗转反侧之中，我总是这样痛苦地想。

但是鲁迅的几句话，也常常闪光似地刺进我黑暗的心头，“我想：希望本无所谓有，无所谓无的。这正如地上的路；其实地上本没有路，走的人多了，也便成了路。”

就这样，这清空而又坚实的木屐声音，一夜又一夜地从我的乱石嶙峋的思路上踏过；一声又一声、一步又一步地替我踏出了一条坚实平坦的大道，把我从黑夜送到黎明！

事情过去十多年了，但是我还常常想起那日那时日本横滨码头旁边水上的那只木屐。对于我，它象征着日本劳动人民，也使我回忆起那几年居留日本的一段生活，引起我许多复杂的情感。

从那日那时离开日本后，我又去了两次。这时候，日本人民不但是我的苦难中的朋友，也是我斗争中的朋友了，我心中的苦乐和十几年前已大不相同。但是，当同去的人们，珍重地带回了些与富士山或樱花有关的纪念品的时候，我却收集一些小小的、引人眷恋的玩具木屐……

作品译文

A Wooden Clog

The light gold setting sun, like our steamer, was lingering sluggishly in the harbor. The grey gates of the warehouses on either side of the harbor were securely shut. The afternoon hubbub of voices had died down and fitful gusts of evening wind would rise to send the messy piles of straw ropes and dust whirling from the wharves.

Silently leaning on the ship railing, I found myself surrounded by an endless dull void. Time was ticking away minute by minute and darkness was gathering around me.

Raising my head abruptly, I saw a wooden clog floating on the water not far from my ship. It had turned darkly brown after being soaked in water and kept moving slowly with the rolling waves as if it were laboring out of the harbor toward the vast sea.

O my friend in distress! How did you know that I was leaving on the quiet? How did you know that I was reluctant to part with my friends – friends that had once worn on their feet? O now you had leaped into the water to escort me through the long voyage?

For several years previously, on those dull, black long nights, as I lay awake with a gloomy feeling of emptiness, the only thing that would keep me company had been the raindrops pattering on the tiled roof and the moonlight outside the paper windows. I would hear on every sleepless night wooden clogs clattering past the cobbled road before my building, sounding clear and firm. It was unlike the hateful thudding of Japanese officers’ military boots I had once heard on the Dongdan drill ground in Peking. It was also unlike the clip-clop of leather shoes on the feet of Japanese officials and VIPs in the lobby of Peking Hotel. It was the clear and firm sound of wooden clogs worn by the working people of Japan, rain or shine …

Resting my head on my clasped hands, I visualized, in the midst of the clatters, all those in wooden clogs: sad and haggard elderly men and women wearing short garments under white overalls; aggrieved workers in overalls and peasants in straw rain capes; young men in college caps and girls in short skirts, all looking dejected and perplexed … I had often come across them here and there in town in the daytime. Now they seemed to merge together clattering past my building.

“My friends in distress! Where is your hope in this dark long night? Where are you bound for in your clattering clogs?” that was the thought in my gloomy mind as I lay wide awake, tossing and turning restlessly.

All that happened over a decade ago, but I always think of the wooden clog floating on water near the Yokohama wharf. To me, it symbolizes the working people of Japan. It also reminds me of my several years’ sojourn in Japan and arouses a host of complicated feelings in me.

I have since twice re-visited Japan. I realized on both occasions that the Japanese people are not only my friends in distress, but also my comrades-in-arms. While my co-travelers brought back treasured souvenirs of Mount Fuji or cherry blossoms, I came home with a collection of small, nostalgic toy clogs …