The Path through the Gravey怕死鬼伊万通往坟场的路(英中对照)

it must have been eight or nine when i read this story. i never forgot its horror.
我看到这个故事时只有八九岁。打那以后，我一想起这个故事就毛骨悚然。
ivan was a timid little man---so timid that the villages called him “pigeon” or mocked him with the title “ivan the terrible.”
伊万是一个胆小如鼠的小个子男人,他的胆子太小了，所以村子里人都叫他“胆小鬼”，或者嘲讽的成他为“怕死鬼伊万”。
every night ivan stopped in at the tavern which was one the edge of the village graveyard. ivan never crossed the graveyard to get to his lonely shack on the other side. that path would save many minutes, but he had never taken it---not even in the full light of noon.
每天晚上，伊万都要到村字墓地边上的那个小酒店去，但每次从酒店回到他在墓地另一边那做孤伶伶的小木屋时，他都不会从墓地当中穿过来。虽然走那条路可以节省好多时间，他却从来没走过。即使在阳光最明亮的大白天，他也没有走过。

late one winter's night, when bitter wind and snow beat against the tavern, customers took up the familiar mockery. ivan's mother was scared by a canary when she carried him in her womb. “ivan the terrible---ivan the timid one.”
一个冬天的深夜，寒风呼啸，风夹着雪花不停的拍打着小酒馆。酒馆里的客人们又聊起了那个老话题，对伊万进行嘲弄：伊万他妈妈在怀它的时候给一只金丝雀给吓着了，“怕死鬼伊万;胆小鬼伊万。”
ivan's weak protest only encouraged them, and they jeered cruelly when the cossack captain flung his horrid challenge at their victim.
伊万软弱无力的抗议只能是他们更来劲儿，更加肆无忌惮的嘲弄他。这时，酒馆的那个哥萨克老板又极不友好的向伊万，这个他们捉弄的对象，发出了挑衅。
“you are a pigeon, ivan. you'll walk around the graveyard in this cold---but you dare not cross it.” ivan murmured, “the graveyard is nothing to cross, captain. it is nothing but earth, like all the other earth.”
“你是一个胆小鬼，伊万。在这样一个大冷天，你也只敢绕远路，绕着墓地走回家;就是不敢穿过去。”伊万喃喃的说：“穿过墓地也没什么意思，老板。那里只有泥土，和其他地方的泥土没什么两样。”

the captain cried, “a challenge, then! cross the graveyard tonight, ivan, and i'll give you five rubles---five gold rubles!”
老板大声吼道：“好吧！来一次挑战怎么样？伊万，今天晚上你穿过墓地走回去，我就给你5个金卢布; 5个金卢布！”
perhaps it was the vodka. perhaps it was the temptation of the five gold rubles. no one knew why. ivan, moistening his lips, said suddenly: “yes, captain, i'll cross the graveyard.” the tavern echoed with their disbelief. the captain winked to the men and unbuckled his sword.
也许是伏特加的作用，也许是5个金卢布的诱惑，谁知道呢。伊万舔舔嘴唇，突然说道：“行，老板，等一会儿我就从墓地穿过去。”小酒馆里的人都嚷嚷说不信。老板朝大伙使了个眼色，然后解下了他的佩剑。
“here, ivan. when you get to the center of the graveyard, in front of the biggest tomb, stick the sword into the ground. in the morning we shall go there. if the sword is in the ground---five rubles to you!” ivan took the sword. the men drank a toast: “to ivan the terrible!” they roared laughing.
“给你，伊万！等你走到墓地中央时，就将这把剑插在那个最大的坟堆前的地上。明天早上我们会到那里去，如果看的这把剑插在哪儿;5个卢布就归你了！”

伊万接过剑。人们举起酒杯，“为怕死鬼伊万干杯！”他们狂笑着大叫道。
the wind howled around ivan as he closed the door of the tavern behind him. the cold was knife-sharp. he buttoned his long coat and crossed the dirt road. he could hear the captain's voice, louder than the rest, yelling after him, “five rubles, pigeon! if you live!”
伊万关上门，走出小酒店。身边狂风怒号，冷的似刀割一般。他扣紧了长大衣，从泥泞的路上穿过去，耳边仿佛还听见在众人的喧哗声中老板那格外刺耳的声音在他背后厉声叫着：“5个卢布，胆小鬼，如果你还能活着的话！”
ivan pushed the graveyard gate open. he walked fast. “earth, just earth… just like any other earth.” but the darkness was a massive dread.
伊万推开墓地的门。他飞快地走着。“泥土，只不过是泥土罢了……和别处的没什么两样。”但是，黑暗实在是太可怕人了。

“five gold rubles…” the wind was cruel and the sword was like ice in his hands. ivan shivered under the long, thick coat and broke into a limping run.
“5个金卢布……”风凄厉地刮着，他手中的剑冰冷刺骨。伊万裹在那件又长又厚的大衣里浑身直发抖，不由得一瘸一拐地跑了起来。
he stopped the large tomb. he must have sobbed---that was the sound that was drowned in the wind. and he kneeled, cold and terrified, and drove the sword through the crust into the hard ground. with all his strength, he pushed it down to the hilt. it was done. the graveyard… the challenge… five gold rubles.
他找到了那个大坟墓。他一定是哭着来的;风声将他的哭声湮没了。他又冷又怕，跪倒在地，把剑向冻得硬梆梆地地上插下去，用尽全力将他一直插到只露出剑柄为止。总算成功了。墓地……挑战……5个金卢布。

ivan started to rise from his knees. but he could not move. something gripped him in an unyielding hold. ivan tugged and lurched and pulled---gasping in his panic, shaken by a horrible fear. he cried out in terror, then made senseless, gurgling noises.
伊万抬起腿想站起来，但却动弹不得，不知有什么东西把他给牢牢地拽住了。伊万挣扎着，跌跌撞撞使劲拉扯着;他在惊恐中喘息着，吓得浑身哆嗦。随后，伊万害怕得大叫起来，接着又不由自主地发出一阵“咯咯”的颤抖。
they found ivan, next morning on the ground in front of the tomb that was in the center of the graveyard. he was frozen to death. the look on his face was not that of a frozen man, but of a man killed by some nameless horror.
第二天早晨，人们在墓地中央那个坟墓地前面发现了伊万。他是冻死地，但从他脸上的表情来看，不像是一个冻死地人，倒像是一个被无名的恐惧吓死的人。
and the captain's sword was in the ground where ivan had pounded it---through the dragging folds of his long coat.
老板的那柄剑还钉在伊万将他狠狠地插进去的地方;穿透了他那件长大衣下摆拖着的衣褶。

我看到这个故事时只有八九岁。打那以后，我一想起这个故事就毛骨悚然。
伊万是一个胆小如鼠的小个子男人,他的胆子太小了，所以村子里人都叫他“胆小鬼”，或者嘲讽的成他为“怕死鬼伊万”。
每天晚上，伊万都要到村字墓地边上的那个小酒店去，但每次从酒店回到他在墓地另一边那做孤伶伶的小木屋时，他都不会从墓地当中穿过来。虽然走那条路可以节省好多时间，他却从来没走过。即使在阳光最明亮的大白天，他也没有走过。

一个冬天的深夜，寒风呼啸，风夹着雪花不停的拍打着小酒馆。酒馆里的客人们又聊起了那个老话题，对伊万进行嘲弄：伊万他妈妈在怀它的时候给一只金丝雀给吓着了，“怕死鬼伊万;胆小鬼伊万。”
伊万软弱无力的抗议只能是他们更来劲儿，更加肆无忌惮的嘲弄他。这时，酒馆的那个哥萨克老板又极不友好的向伊万，这个他们捉弄的对象，发出了挑衅。
“你是一个胆小鬼，伊万。在这样一个大冷天，你也只敢绕远路，绕着墓地走回家;就是不敢穿过去。”伊万喃喃的说：“穿过墓地也没什么意思，老板。那里只有泥土，和其他地方的泥土没什么两样。”

老板大声吼道：“好吧！来一次挑战怎么样？伊万，今天晚上你穿过墓地走回去，我就给你5个金卢布; 5个金卢布！”
也许是伏特加的作用，也许是5个金卢布的诱惑，谁知道呢。伊万舔舔嘴唇，突然说道：“行，老板，等一会儿我就从墓地穿过去。”小酒馆里的人都嚷嚷说不信。老板朝大伙使了个眼色，然后解下了他的佩剑。
“给你，伊万！等你走到墓地中央时，就将这把剑插在那个最大的坟堆前的地上。明天早上我们会到那里去，如果看的这把剑插在哪儿;5个卢布就归你了！”

伊万接过剑。人们举起酒杯，“为怕死鬼伊万干杯！”他们狂笑着大叫道。
伊万关上门，走出小酒店。身边狂风怒号，冷的似刀割一般。他扣紧了长大衣，从泥泞的路上穿过去，耳边仿佛还听见在众人的喧哗声中老板那格外刺耳的声音在他背后厉声叫着：“5个卢布，胆小鬼，如果你还能活着的话！”
伊万推开墓地的门。他飞快地走着。“泥土，只不过是泥土罢了……和别处的没什么两样。”但是，黑暗实在是太可怕人了。

“5个金卢布……”风凄厉地刮着，他手中的剑冰冷刺骨。伊万裹在那件又长又厚的大衣里浑身直发抖，不由得一瘸一拐地跑了起来。
他找到了那个大坟墓。他一定是哭着来的;风声将他的哭声湮没了。他又冷又怕，跪倒在地，把剑向冻得硬梆梆地地上插下去，用尽全力将他一直插到只露出剑柄为止。总算成功了。墓地……挑战……5个金卢布。

伊万抬起腿想站起来，但却动弹不得，不知有什么东西把他给牢牢地拽住了。伊万挣扎着，跌跌撞撞使劲拉扯着;他在惊恐中喘息着，吓得浑身哆嗦。随后，伊万害怕得大叫起来，接着又不由自主地发出一阵“咯咯”的颤抖。
第二天早晨，人们在墓地中央那个坟墓地前面发现了伊万。他是冻死地，但从他脸上的表情来看，不像是一个冻死地人，倒像是一个被无名的恐惧吓死的人。
老板的那柄剑还钉在伊万将他狠狠地插进去的地方;穿透了他那件长大衣下摆拖着的衣褶。

it must have been eight or nine when i read this story. i never forgot its horror.
ivan was a timid little man---so timid that the villages called him “pigeon” or mocked him with the title “ivan the terrible.”
every night ivan stopped in at the tavern which was one the edge of the village graveyard. ivan never crossed the graveyard to get to his lonely shack on the other side. that path would save many minutes, but he had never taken it---not even in the full light of noon.
late one winter's night, when bitter wind and snow beat against the tavern, customers took up the familiar mockery. ivan's mother was scared by a canary when she carried him in her womb. “ivan the terrible---ivan the timid one.”
ivan's weak protest only encouraged them, and they jeered cruelly when the cossack captain flung his horrid challenge at their victim.
“you are a pigeon, ivan. you'll walk around the graveyard in this cold---but you dare not cross it.” ivan murmured, “the graveyard is nothing to cross, captain. it is nothing but earth, like all the other earth.”
the captain cried, “a challenge, then! cross the graveyard tonight, ivan, and i'll give you five rubles---five gold rubles!”
perhaps it was the vodka. perhaps it was the temptation of the five gold rubles. no one knew why. ivan, moistening his lips, said suddenly: “yes, captain, i'll cross the graveyard.” the tavern echoed with their disbelief. the captain winked to the men and unbuckled his sword.
“here, ivan. when you get to the center of the graveyard, in front of the biggest tomb, stick the sword into the ground. in the morning we shall go there. if the sword is in the ground---five rubles to you!” ivan took the sword. the men drank a toast: “to ivan the terrible!” they roared laughing.
the wind howled around ivan as he closed the door of the tavern behind him. the cold was knife-sharp. he buttoned his long coat and crossed the dirt road. he could hear the captain's voice, louder than the rest, yelling after him, “five rubles, pigeon! if you live!”
ivan pushed the graveyard gate open. he walked fast. “earth, just earth… just like any other earth.” but the darkness was a massive dread.
“five gold rubles…” the wind was cruel and the sword was like ice in his hands. ivan shivered under the long, thick coat and broke into a limping run.
he stopped the large tomb. he must have sobbed---that was the sound that was drowned in the wind. and he kneeled, cold and terrified, and drove the sword through the crust into the hard ground. with all his strength, he pushed it down to the hilt. it was done. the graveyard… the challenge… five gold rubles.
ivan started to rise from his knees. but he could not move. something gripped him in an unyielding hold. ivan tugged and lurched and pulled---gasping in his panic, shaken by a horrible fear. he cried out in terror, then made senseless, gurgling noises.
they found ivan, next morning on the ground in front of the tomb that was in the center of the graveyard. he was frozen to death. the look on his face was not that of a frozen man, but of a man killed by some nameless horror.
and the captain's sword was in the ground where ivan had pounded it---through the dragging folds of his long coat.