◎董繼平 譯

金色黎明的旅館

我們很清楚，這家旅館的真正主人是蜘蛛。它們無處不在，你不得不小心翼翼地加以注意。它們用巧妙的方式來偽裝自己，除了旅客登記柜臺(tái)的那位職員。他顯然是蜘蛛，一只半透明的淺紅色蜘蛛，一只親切友好的蜘蛛。在我的經(jīng)歷中，這家旅館的所有蜘蛛實(shí)際上都心腸很好。當(dāng)我躺在床上試圖睡覺時(shí)，一只蜘蛛就輕撫我的眉毛。早晨，另一只蜘蛛從我要吃的蛋中飛出來。我在大廳里看到的很多客人似乎都非人類，或至少?zèng)]有牙齒，被抽光了血。這是某種類型的會(huì)議，紐扣制造商、天文學(xué)家、喜劇演員、賣花者、監(jiān)獄看守、點(diǎn)燈人、編輯各色人等，正在享受非常美好的時(shí)光。那柜臺(tái)蜘蛛和大門蜘蛛驕傲地注視著他們。

HOTEL OF THE GOLDEN DAWN

It was clear to us that the real owners of the hotel were spiders.They were everywhere but you had to look carefully.They had ingenious ways of disguising themselves，except for the clerk at the check-in desk.He was clearly a spider，a pale pink translucent spider，a kindly one.In fact，in my experience，all the spiders in the hotel were benevolent.One stroked my brow as I lay in bed trying to sleep.Another kept flies off of my eggs in the morning.Many of the guests I saw in the lobby seemed to me inhuman，or at least toothless and drained of their blood.It was a convention of some kind，button makers，astronomers，comedians，florists，prison guards，lamplighters，editors，whatever，and they were having a very good time.The desk-spider and the door-spider eyed them proudly.

記憶宮殿

在夜間，那個(gè)地方?jīng)]有一盞燈亮著。我繞到后面，試圖打開門。當(dāng)然，門是鎖著的。一片濃密的藤蔓沿著這幢建筑的側(cè)邊生長(zhǎng)上去，因此我就順著藤蔓向上攀爬。就在我?guī)缀蹩煲郎先サ臅r(shí)候，藤蔓開始搖晃不定，從建筑物上分離，脫落下來。我猛然跌下去，割傷了額頭和手臂。我在前面找到了一道太平梯，爬了上去。我闖進(jìn)二樓的窗戶，驚奇地發(fā)現(xiàn)了一摞又一摞相冊(cè)和卷宗堆滿了地面。盡管我知道開燈有危險(xiǎn)，我也把燈打開。那里的一切似乎都雜亂無章。我拉來一把椅子，撿起一本相冊(cè)——一身牛仔裝束、騎在矮馬上的孩子，抓著他們捕獲的魚、生日蛋糕的孩子，參加聚會(huì)，蕩秋千、跳舞，讓孩子們其樂無窮，但在某種程度上，他們似乎全都是同一種童年的一部分。然后是一本臨死的人的相冊(cè)，插著呼吸管，掛著灌食袋，那幾乎死了的人的呆滯無神、遙遠(yuǎn)的表情。在記憶宮殿里，一切東西都沒丟失，只是放錯(cuò)了地方而已。我在那里度過了大半夜，累得精疲力盡，以至于眼睛都幾乎睜不開了。正當(dāng)我翻閱諸多專門收藏年輕情侶照片的相冊(cè)之際，我突然呆呆地怔住了：那里有一張嚴(yán)重褪色的照片，上面是我的父母，他們幾乎還不到二十歲，也許甚至還沒有結(jié)婚，手牽著手，朝著相機(jī)微笑，世界在短短的一秒中抑制其狂怒，給予他們陽光的一刻，那陽光如此虛弱而稀薄。我把那張照片從相冊(cè)的口袋中取下來，放進(jìn)我的衣兜。我走到窗口往下看。一個(gè)穿制服的老頭站在那里，說：“小子，趕快下來吧，我們將不得不逮捕你?！蔽艺f：“警官，但我都是老頭了。”他說：“記憶宮殿里沒有記憶。瞧吧，它就是那么不在意的。”

THE MEMORY PALACE

There wasn’t a light on in the place at that time of night.I walked around in back and tried the door.Of course it was locked.There was a thick vine growing up the side of the building，so I tried climbing that.I was almost up when it started to wobble and detach itself from the building.I came crashing down and cut my forehead and arms.I found a fire escape in front and climbed that.I broke into the second-story window and was amazed to find stacks and stacks of photo albums and files overflowing on the floor.I turned on a light，though I knew the dangers of that.There seemed to be no order to anything.I pulled up a chair and picked up an album—children on ponies in cowboy outfits，children holding fish they caught，birthday cakes，parties，swings，dances，no end to the fascination with children，but somehow they all seemed to be a part of the same childhood.Then there was the album of the near-dead，breathing tubes，feeding bags，the glazed，faraway looks of the nearly departed.In the Memory Palace nothing is lost，just misplaced.I spent most of the night there until I was so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open.While going through the many albums devoted to young lovers，I suddenly froze.There was a photo of my mother and father，badly faded，barely twenty years old，perhaps not even married yet，holding hands and smiling into the camera，the world holding back its fury for one brief second，giving them their moment of sunshine，so fragile and tenuous.I removed the photo from its pocket and stuck it in mine.I went to the window and looked down.An old man in a uniform stood there.“Come on down，son，we’re going to have to arrest you，”he said.“But，officer，I’m an old man，”I said.“The Memory Palace has no memory.See，it just doesn’t care，”he said.