安徒生童話故事第89篇：鍾淵The Bell-Deep
引導語：《鍾淵》是著名作家安徒生童話選其中之一作品，下面是小編收集的中英文版本，歡迎大家閱讀!
“丁當!丁當!”這個聲音是從奧登塞河裡的鐘淵那兒飄上來的……這是一條什麼河呢?奧登塞城裡的每個孩子都知道它：它在許多花圃底下流，它在木橋底下流，從水閘那兒一直流到水推磨坊那兒去。這條河裡長著許多黃色的水仙花和棕色的細蘆葦，還有像天鵝絨一樣軟的、又高又大的黑香蒲，還有衰老的、佈滿裂痕的、搖搖欲墜的柳樹——它們垂向“修道士沼澤”和“蒼白人草地”的水上。不過對面是一片花圃，每個花圃都不相同。有些花圃開滿了美麗的花朵，上面還有整齊清潔的涼亭，像玩偶的房子;有些花圃只是長著白菜。有些花圃簡直看不見，因為高大的接骨木樹叢展開它們的枝葉，高高地垂在流動的水上——有些地方水深得連我們的槳都達不到底。那座古老的女修道院對面的地方，是最深的地方——人們把它叫做“鍾淵”。在這兒住著“河人”。在白天，當太陽照在水上的時候，河人就睡著了。不過在滿天繁星、月光皎潔的夜裡，他就出現了。他是一個很老的人：曾祖母說，她曾經聽自己的祖母說過他的故事。據說他過著一種孤寂的生活;除了教堂裡那口古老的大鐘以外，沒有什麼人和他談話。這口鐘曾經掛在那個教堂的'塔上，不過這個曾經被叫做聖·亞爾般的教堂的地方，現在既沒有塔，也沒有任何教堂的影子。
“丁當!丁當!”，當那個塔還存在的時候，鐘聲就這樣響著。有一天傍晚，當太陽正在落下去的時候，這口鐘就劇烈地搖晃起來，最後它震斷了繩子，向空中飛去，它輝煌的鐵身在晚霞中放射出光彩。
“丁當!丁當!現在我要去睡了!”鍾唱著，於是它飛到奧登塞河裡去，沉到它最深的底下。從那時起，這塊地方就叫做“鍾淵”。不過鍾在這塊地方既不休息，也不睡覺。它在“河人”的地方發出嘹亮的聲音;有時它的調子透過水，浮到水面上來。許多人說，它的調子預告著又也一個什麼人要死了，但是事實並不是這樣，不是的，它不過是在跟“河人”唱唱歌和談談話罷了。“河人”現在不再孤獨了。
鍾在談些什麼呢?根據大家的傳說，它很老，非常地老，在祖母的祖母沒有出生以前它就在那兒。不過，就年齡來說，在“河人”面前，它還只不過是一個孩子。“河人”是一個年老的、安靜的、古怪的人物。他穿著一條鱔魚皮做的褲子，一件魚鱗綴成的上衣，用黃水仙花作鈕釦，頭髮上插著蘆葦，鬍子上插著青浮草。這副樣兒並不太好看。
把鍾講的話再講一遍，恐怕需要許多許多年和許多許多天的時間，因為它是在年復一年講著同樣的故事，有時講得長，有時講得短，完全看它的興致而定。它講著天下遠古時代的事情，關於那些艱苦、黑暗時代的事情。
“在聖·亞爾般教堂裡，修道士爬到掛著鐘的高塔樓上面去。他是一個年輕而漂亮的人，但是他非常喜歡沉思。他從視窗向奧登塞河凝望，那時河床比現在的還要寬;那時沼澤地還是一個湖。他朝河上望，朝綠色的城堡望，朝對面的修女山上望——這兒也一座修女庵，亮光從一個修女的房間裡射出來。他認識這位修女，他在想念著她;他一思念她，他的心就劇烈地跳起來。丁當!丁當!”
是的，鍾講的就是這樣的故事。
“主教的那個傻傭人也爬到鐘塔上來。當我——又粗又重的鐵製的鐘——在前後搖擺著的時候，我痕可能砸破他的前額。他坐得離我很近。他彈著兩根棍子，好像那就是一個琴似的。他一邊彈還一邊唱：‘現在我可以大聲唱了，唱那些在別的時候我連小聲都不敢講的事情。我可以把藏在監牢後面鐵欄杆後面的一切事情都唱出來!那兒是又冷又潮!耗子把活生生的人吃掉!誰也不知道這些事情，誰也沒有聽到這些事情!甚至現在還沒有人聽到，因此鍾在這麼高聲地響著：丁當!丁當!’
“從前有一個國王，人們稱他為克努特，他見了主教和修道士就行禮;可是不過當他用沉重的賦稅和粗暴的話語把溫德爾的居民弄得受不了的時候，他們就拿起武器和棍棒，把他像野獸似的趕走。他逃進教堂裡去，把大門和小門都關起來。動亂的群眾把教堂包圍著——我聽到人們這樣講。烏鴉，渡烏和喜鵲，被這些呼聲和叫聲所嚇住，都飛進塔樓裡面去，又飛出來。它們望望下邊的人群，又從教堂裡的視窗瞧瞧裡面的情景，於是便把它們所看到的東西大聲地喊出來。國王克努特在祭臺面前跪著祈禱，他的兄弟愛力克和本奈蒂克特在他身邊，把刀子抽出來護衛他。不過國王的僕人——那個不忠的布勒克——背叛了他的主人：外面的人因此知道，怎樣可以打中國王。有一個人從窗子投進去一塊石頭，國王就倒下來死了。這一堆狂野的人群和鳥兒的叫聲響徹了雲霄。我也一同叫起來，我唱著，發出‘丁當!丁當!’的聲音。
“教堂的鐘高高地懸著，向四周觀看。它招引鳥兒來拜訪，它懂得它們的語言。風從洞口和百葉窗吹進來。風什麼東西都知道，它是從圍繞著一切生物的空氣那兒聽來的，因為空氣能鑽進人的肺裡面去，知道一切聲音，每一個字和每一聲嘆息。空氣知道這件事，因為風把它說出來，而教堂的鐘懂得它的話語，因而向全世界唱：‘丁當!丁當!’
“不過要我來傾聽和了解這許多的事情，未免太過分了。我無法把它們都唱出來!我現在是這樣疲倦，這樣沉重，弄得把橫樑都折斷了，結果我飛到陽光閃耀的空中去，然後沉到了河裡最深的地方，沉到‘河人’孤獨地住著的那個地方。在那裡，我年復一年地告訴他我聽到的我知道的東西：‘丁當!丁當!’”
這就是奧登塞河的鐘淵所發出的響聲——曾祖母是這樣說的。
不過我們的老師卻這樣說：河裡沒有這樣一口鐘，因為這是不可能的!河裡也沒有什麼“河人”住著，因為不可能有“河人”!他說，當一切教堂的鐘都發出愉快的聲音的時候，那事實上並不是鍾，而是空氣的震盪聲。發出聲音的是空氣呀。——曾祖母也告訴過我們說，鍾曾經這樣講過這。在這一點上，他們都有一致的意見，因此這是可以肯定的!
“請你當心，請你當心，請你好好地注意!”他們倆人都這樣說。
空氣知道所有的事情!它圍繞著我們，它在我們的身體裡面，它談論著我們的思想和我們的行動。比起沉在“河人”所住的奧登塞河深處的那口鐘來，它能談論得更久。它飄向遙遠的太空，永無休止，直到天上的鐘發出“丁當!丁當!”的聲音。
鍾淵英文版：
The Bell-Deep
DING-DONG! ding-dong!” It sounds up from the “bell-deep” in the Odense-Au. Every child in the old town of Odense, on the island of Funen, knows the Au, which washes the gardens round about the town, and flows on under the wooden bridges from the dam to the water-mill. In the Au grow the yellow water-lilies and brown feathery reeds; the dark velvety flag grows there, high and thick; old and decayed willows, slanting and tottering, hang far out over the stream beside the monk’s meadow and by the bleaching ground; but opposite there are gardens upon gardens, each different from the rest, some with pretty flowers and bowers like little dolls’ pleasure grounds, often displaying cabbage and other kitchen plants; and here and there the gardens cannot be seen at all, for the great elder trees that spread themselves out by the bank, and hang far out over the streaming waters, which are deeper here and there than an oar can fathom. Opposite the old nunnery is the deepest place, which is called the “bell-deep,” and there dwells the old water spirit, the “Au-mann.” This spirit sleeps through the day while the sun shines down upon the water; but in starry and moonlit nights he shows himself. He is very old. Grandmother says that she has heard her own grandmother tell of him; he is said to lead a solitary life, and to have nobody with whom he can converse save the great old church Bell. Once the Bell hung in the church tower; but now there is no trace left of the tower or of the church, which was called St. Alban’s.
“Ding-dong! ding-dong!” sounded the Bell, when the tower still stood there; and one evening, while the sun was setting, and the Bell was swinging away bravely, it broke loose and came flying down through the air, the brilliant metal shining in the ruddy beam.
“Ding-dong! ding-dong! Now I’ll retire to rest!” sang the Bell, and flew down into the Odense-Au, where it is deepest; and that is why the place is called the “bell-deep.”
But the Bell got neither rest nor sleep. Down in the Au-mann’s haunt it sounds and rings, so that the tones sometimes pierce upward through the waters; and many people maintain that its strains forebode the death of some one; but that is not true, for the Bell is only talking with the Au-mann, who is now no longer alone.
And what is the Bell telling? It is old, very old, as we have already observed; it was there long before grandmother’s grandmother was born; and yet it is but a child in comparison with the Au-mann, who is quite an old quiet personage, an oddity, with his hose of eel-skin, and his scaly Jacket with the yellow lilies for buttons, and a wreath of reed in his hair and seaweed in his beard; but he looks very pretty for all that.
What the Bell tells? To repeat it all would require years and days; for year by year it is telling the old stories, sometimes short ones, sometimes long ones, according to its whim; it tells of old times, of the dark hard times, thus:
“In the church of St. Alban, the monk had mounted up into the tower. He was young and handsome, but thoughtful exceedingly. He looked through the loophole out upon the Odense-Au, when the bed of the water was yet broad, and the monks’ meadow was still a lake. He looked out over it, and over the rampart, and over the nuns’ hill opposite, where the convent lay, and the light gleamed forth from the nun’s cell. He had known the nun right well, and he thought of her, and his heart beat quicker as he thought. Ding-dong! ding-dong!”
Yes, this was the story the Bell told.
“Into the tower came also the dapper man-servant of the bishop; and when I, the Bell, who am made of metal, rang hard and loud, and swung to and fro, I might have beaten out his brains. He sat down close under me, and played with two little sticks as if they had been a stringed instrument; and he sang to it. ‘Now I may sing it out aloud, though at other times I may not whisper it. I may sing of everything that is kept concealed behind lock and bars. Yonder it is cold and wet. The rats are eating her up alive! Nobody knows of it! Nobody hears of it! Not even now, for the bell is ringing and singing its loud Ding-dong, ding-dong!’
“There was a King in those days. They called him Canute. He bowed himself before bishop and monk; but when he offended the free peasants with heavy taxes and hard words, they seized their weapons and put him to flight like a wild beast. He sought shelter in the church, and shut gate and door behind him. The violent band surrounded the church; I heard tell of it. The crows, ravens and magpies started up in terror at the yelling and shouting that sounded around. They flew into the tower and out again, they looked down upon the throng below, and they also looked into the windows of the church, and screamed out aloud what they saw there. King Canute knelt before the altar in prayer; his brothers Eric and Benedict stood by him as a guard with drawn swords; but the King’s servant, the treacherous Blake, betrayed his master. The throng in front of the church knew where they could hit the King, and one of them flung a stone through a pane of glass, and the King lay there dead! The cries and screams of the savage horde and of the birds sounded through the air, and I joined in it also; for I sang ‘Ding-dong! ding-dong!’
“The church bell hangs high, and looks far around, and sees the birds around it, and understands their language. The wind roars in upon it through windows and loopholes; and the wind knows everything, for he gets it from the air, which encircles all things, and the church bell understands his tongue, and rings it out into the world, ‘Ding-dong! ding-dong!’
“But it was too much for me to hear and to know; I was not able any longer to ring it out. I became so tired, so heavy, that the beam broke, and I flew out into the gleaming Au, where the water is deepest, and where the Au-mann lives, solitary and alone; and year by year I tell him what I have heard and what I know. Ding-dong! ding-dong”
Thus it sounds complainingly out of the bell-deep in the Odense-Au. That is what grandmother told us.
But the schoolmaster says that there was not any bell that rung down there, for that it could not do so; and that no Au-mann dwelt yonder, for there was no Au-mann at all! And when all the other church bells are sounding sweetly, he says that it is not really the bells that are sounding, but that it is the air itself which sends forth the notes; and grandmother said to us that the Bell itself said it was the air who told it to him, consequently they are agreed on that point, and this much is sure.
“Be cautious, cautious, and take good heed to thyself,” they both say.
The air knows everything. It is around us, it is in us, it talks of our thoughts and of our deeds, and it speaks longer of them than does the Bell down in the depths of the Odense-Au where the Au-mann dwells. It rings it out in the vault of heaven, far, far out, forever and ever, till the heaven bells sound “Ding-dong! ding-dong!”
