海子的一首叙事诗，（空间幽闭、黑暗恐惧者慎入）

Narrative Poem
-- a folklore, by Haizi (translated by me)

a man came for a night lodging
the hostel was dull and lifeless as hell
it was built in a horrific shape
located far away from the city center

the only sound one could hear
was the church bell
and the river flowing through the city
with a crystal sound made by the water

the river was noisy and sometimes
quiet, too, you could hear a fishing boat
it was a poor fisherman's family
they lived on half-dead fish and shrimp, hard life

the man came to the hostel's door
and pulled the bell upon it
but the bell was out of work
no sound was made but silence

so he put down the loads from his back
and called three times in a loud voice
out came the hostel keeper from inside
he was dressed in black like a ghost

the ghost held a candle in his hand
and utterred something indistinctly
he said, Do you, my guest, want accommodation?
But my hostel hasn't lodged people for a long time.

the man asked, Why
have people not lived here for so long?
the keeper said, Maybe here is too far
and it's not a safe place anyway.

Doesn't matter, the hot-blooded man said.
his voice was dynamic, a young man's voice
he said, My host, boil water and make dinner for me
Tonight I want to rest early and well

the hostel keeper blinked his eyes
he ushered the guest into the hall
the house was dark and shabby
the river's roaring could be heard within

from the river came a draught
the candle fire in the keeper's hand died out
he came inside leaving
the guest behind in darkness

so dark that none of the man's fingers was visible
he waited and waited
but didn't see the hostel keeper come back
he shouted at a high pitch, My host! My host!

nobody answered back
he groped into the inner house
walking unsteadily into
a room that was messy and dark as a cave

he heard a sound inside
he touched a lamp on the windowsill
he raised it and shook it, no oil in the lamp
he put it back

he pushed open the windows
the smell of the river rushed into his face
he stood still for a while
his mind was crarried away

his was nervous and jittery
by the weak light reflected
from the shimmering dots given off by the fishing boat
he came to understand the room he was in

the room had nothing
but a bed
What the hell were the sounds when I staggered in
the sounds from things that had been walked on and broken?

Were they phantoms or hallucinations?
he felt his nerves were falling apart
his heart, which had been calmed down, now was like a tense drum
hit hardly and fiercely by a drummer

he sat down onto the bed
horror stories swarmed into his head
he threw himself into the damp quilt
without taking off his clothes

a heavy sound, his luggage
fell onto the floor
the sound was extremely loud
against the night's tranquility

he couldn't fall asleep no matter what
the river turned quiet at midnight
no sound could be heard
he became even more awake

he tossed and turned
all the illusions and sounds
filled him with fear
then, came a sharp voice, a child's voice

in late night, the child's voice
was like a bird's sad crow
coming from a lonely grave
he heard clearly what the child was crying:

"Uncle, uncle, let me in."
"Uncle, uncle, let me in."
"Open the door, uncle."
"Open the door, open the door."

someone was thumping at the door
the guest quickly got up
left his bed and opened the door
not a single soul was outside

he lied back down onto his bed
but no way could he ever sleep
the child's voice was heard again
"Uncle, uncle, let me in."

the cry was sad and bitter, sad and bitter
the man, a total stranger to this place,
was covered in sweat
he tucked his head into the quilt

but the cry grew louder
it pierced into his ears like a knife
as if the child
had been crying inside of his ears

he pulled open the door with a force
but nobody was there
he doubted his ears
he closed the door

came the cry again
the same cry as before
he rose up, body shaky
he sized up the room

he saw the shimmering dots turn dim on the river
the light in the room grew weaker
but he could recognize the room's shape
he saw only one bed in the room

his heart lurched
Could there be anything under the bed?
he extended his hands into the bed's underneath
but nothing was there

the child cried again
more sharply, he pulled
back his hands, and felt
someone was there

his blood stopped flowing
heart almost paused
he groped about
and found a man bound up to the bottom of the bed

fear had him lose his voice
he withdrew his shaking hands
and took out a knife, cut
the ropes off the man

he dragged the man out
and put him in the centre of the room
he found a candle in his pocket
and a match stick

he lit the candle which was only 1 inch long
by the candle light he saw it was the hostel keeper
he was dead, it seemed
he had been dead for a couple of days

now the dead body was lying in his room
this exact dead body
had taken him into the hostel
and had been tied under his bed

cold sweat sprang out of the stranger's forehead
his body was watery
he was going to faint
the candle fire was dying out



叙事诗
——个民间故事
海子

有一个人深夜来投宿
这个旅店死气沉沉
形状十分吓人
远离了闹市中心

这里是唯一的声音
是教堂的钟声
还有流经城市的河流
河流流水汩汩

河水的声音时而喧哗
时而寂静，听得见水上人家的声音
那是一个穷苦的渔民家庭
每日捕些半死的鱼虾，艰难度日

这人来到旅店门前
拉了一下旅店的门铃
但门铃是坏的
没有发出声音，一片寂静

这时他放下了背上的东西
高声叫喊了三声
店里走出店主人
一身黑衣服活像一个幽灵

这幽灵手持烛火
话也说不太清
他说：“客人，你要住宿
我这里可好久没有住人”

客人说：“为什么
这里好久没有住人”
主人说：“也许是太偏僻
况且这里还不太平”

“没关系”，那人血气方刚
嗓门宏亮，一听就是个年轻人
说：“主人，快烧水做饭
今夜我要早早安顿”

店主人眨着双眼
把客人引入门厅
房子又黑又破
听得见大河的涛声

河面上吹来的风
吹熄了主人手上的蜡烛
他走进里面
把客人留在黑暗中

伸手不见五指
客人等了又等
还是不见主人
他高声叫喊：“主人！主人！”

没人答应
他摸黑走向里屋
一路跌跌撞撞
这屋里乱七八糟，黑咕隆咚

屋子里发出声音
他在窗台上摸到一盏灯
举起来晃了晃，灯里没有油
他又将灯放回原处

他推开窗户
河水的气味迎面而来
他稍微停顿一下
站在那里发愣

他还是心神不宁
借河面上渔船的灯光点点
微光反入这黑屋子
看清了这个房间的大致

屋子里只有一张床
什么也没有
那么他刚刚跌跌撞撞
弄碎和弄响的究竟是些什么东西

是不是鬼怪和幻影？
他的心开始有些发毛
刚刚平息下来的心跳
又似一面绷紧的鼓手狠狠锤击的鼓

他在床上坐下
恐怖的故事涌入头脑
他连衣服都没脱
就钻进了那潮湿的被窝

行李扑通一声
跌在地上
在寂静中
这声音显得格外的响

他怎么也睡不着
到半夜，河水声小了
没有一点声音
他更加睡不着觉

翻来覆去，全都是
使他内心恐惧
的幻影和声响
这时一个尖利的儿童声响起

在深夜，这儿童的声音
多像是孤独的墓穴中
一片凄惨的鸟鸣
他听清了，这儿童在喊

“舅舅，舅舅，放我进来”
“舅舅，舅舅，放我进来”
“开门，舅舅”
“开门，开门”

同时有声音捶打着这个房门
这客人连忙起身
下床开门
门外没有一个人影

他又重新躺下
更加不能入眠
这时童声重新响起：
“舅舅，舅舅，开门”

一声比一声凄厉
这个陌生人
一身冷汗
把头也钻到被窝里

但是声音更响
仿佛刀刺在他耳朵上
仿佛这儿童
就在他耳朵里尖叫

他猛地拉开门
但是没有人
他怀疑自己的耳朵
只好把门关上

叫声又响起
还是和刚才一样
他起来，抖嗦着
再重新打量房间

他看见河面上的灯火少了
那微光更弱
但能辨清轮廓
他看清这屋里只有一张床

他的心抽紧了一下
会不会床底下有什么
他伸手向床下摸去
并没有什么

可这时声音又响起
更加激烈，他把手
向回抽时，感到
床底下有人

他的血液凝固
心脏几乎停止了跳动
于是他摸向那儿
原来那床板底下绑着一个人

他吓得没有声音
把手抖嗦着收回
摸出刀子，割断了
那捆绑的绳索

他把那人拖出来
放到房间中央
发现那人口袋里有一只蜡烛
还有一根火柴

他点亮这短短一寸的蜡烛
火烛下看清那人是店主人
已经死了，看样子
已经死了好几天

这死尸躺在他的房间里
这死了好几天的死尸
刚才还引他进门
又被绑在他的身下

这个陌生人额头冒出冷汗
全身都被浸湿
他马上就要昏过去
这时蜡烛也已熄灭