The doctor at my side explained and commented upon the old man's story, "We still hare a handful of patients here who are being kept alive by constant care. The others died as a result of their injuries, or else committed suicide . "
站在我身边的大夫对老人的话作了补充说明：“我们这儿还有一些病人是靠不断的护理医治才得以维持生命的。另有一些病人因伤重不治而死，还有一些自杀身亡。”
"Why did they commit suicide?"
“他们干吗要自杀呢?”
"It is humiliating to survive in this city. If you bear any visible scars of atomic burns, your children will encounter prejudice on the part of those who do not. No one will marry the daughter or the niece of an atomic bomb victim. People are afraid of genetic damage from the radiation." The old fisherman gazed at me politely and with interest.
“因为在这座城市里苟延残喘是一种耻辱。假如你身上有着明显的原子伤痕，你的孩子就会受到那些没有伤痕的人的歧视。男人们谁也不愿娶一个原子弹受害者的女儿或侄女为妻。他们害怕核辐射会造成遗传基因病变。” 那位老渔民彬彬有礼、兴致勃勃地定睛望着我。
Hanging over the patient was a big ball made of bits of brightly colored paper, folded into the shape of tiny birds. "What's that?" I asked.
他的病床上方悬挂着一个由许多叠成小鸟形状的五颜六色的纸片结成的大纸团。“那是什么?”我问道。
"Those are my lucky birds. Each day that I escape death, each day of suffering that helps to free me from earthly cares, I make a new little paper bird, and add it to the others. This way I look at them and congratulate myself of the good fortune that my illness has brought me. Because, thanks to it, I have the opportunity to improve my character."
“那是我的吉祥鸟。每当我从死神那儿挣脱出来的那一天，每当病痛将我从尘世烦恼中解放出来的那一天，我都要叠一只新的小纸鸟，加到原有的纸鸟群里去。我就这样看着这些纸鸟，庆幸病痛给自己带来的好运。因为正是我的病痛使我有了怡养性情的机会。”
Once again, outside in the open air, I tore into little pieces a small notebook with questions that I'd prepared in advance for interviews with the patients of the atomic ward. Among them was the question: Do you really think that Hiroshima is the liveliest city in Japan? I never asked it. But I could read the answer in every eye.
从医院出来，我又一次地撕碎了一个小笔记本，那上面记着我预先想好准备在采访原子病区的病人时提问的一些问题，其中有一个问题就是：你是否真的认为广岛是日本最充满活力的城市?我一直没问这问题，但我已能从每个人的眼神中体会出这个问题的答案。