流放的地方

媽媽，天空上的光成了灰色了；我不知道是什么時(shí)候了。

我玩得怪沒勁兒的，所以到你這里來(lái)了。這是星期六，是我們的休息日。

放下你的活計(jì)，媽媽，坐在靠窗的一邊，告訴我童話里的特潘塔沙漠在什么地方？

雨的影子遮掩了整個(gè)白天。

兇猛的電光用它的爪子抓著天空。

當(dāng)烏云在轟轟地響著，天打著雷的時(shí)候，我總愛心里帶著恐懼爬伏到你的身上。

當(dāng)大雨傾瀉在竹葉子上好幾個(gè)鐘頭，而我們的窗戶為狂風(fēng)震得格格發(fā)響的時(shí)候，我就愛獨(dú)自和你坐在屋里，媽媽，聽你講童話里的特潘塔沙漠的故事。

它在哪里，媽媽，在哪一個(gè)海洋的岸上，在哪些個(gè)山峰的腳下，在哪一個(gè)國(guó)王的國(guó)土里？

田地上沒有此疆彼壤的界石，也沒有村人在黃昏時(shí)走回家的，或婦人在樹林里撿拾枯枝而捆載到市場(chǎng)上去的道路。沙地上只有一小塊一小塊的黃色草地，只有一株樹，就是那一對(duì)聰明的老鳥兒在那里做窩的，那個(gè)地方就是特潘塔沙漠。

我能夠想象得到，就在這樣一個(gè)烏云密布的日子，國(guó)王的年輕的兒子，怎樣地獨(dú)自騎著一匹灰色馬，走過這個(gè)沙漠，去尋找那被囚禁在不可知的重洋之外的巨人宮里的公主。

當(dāng)雨霧在遙遠(yuǎn)的天空下降，電光像一陣突然發(fā)作的痛楚的痙攣似的閃射的時(shí)候，他可記得他的不幸的母親，為國(guó)王所棄，正在掃除牛棚，眼里流著眼淚，當(dāng)他騎馬走過童話里的特潘塔沙漠的時(shí)候？

看，媽媽，一天還沒有完，天色就差不多黑了，那邊村莊的路上沒有什么旅客了。

牧童早就從牧場(chǎng)上回家了，人們都已從田地里回來(lái)，坐在他們草屋的檐下的草席上，眼望著陰沉的云塊。

媽媽，我把我所有的書本都放在書架上了——不要叫我現(xiàn)在做功課。

當(dāng)我長(zhǎng)大了，大得像爸爸一樣的時(shí)候，我將會(huì)學(xué)到必須學(xué)的東西的。

但是，今天你可得告訴我，媽媽，童話里的特潘塔沙漠在什么地方？

THE LAND OF THE EXILE

MOTHER,the light has grown grey in the sky;I do not knowwhat the time is.

There is no fun in my play,so Ihave come to you.It isSaturday,our holiday.

Leave off your work,mother;sit here by the window and tellme where the desert of Tepantar in the fairy tale is?

The shadow of the rains has covered the day from end to end.

The fierce lightning is scratching the sky with its nails.

When the clouds rumble and it thunders,I love to be afraid inmy heart and cling to you.

When the heavy rain patters for hours on the bamboo leaves,and our windows shake and rattle at the gusts of wind,I like to sitalone in the room,mother,with you,and hear you talk about thedesert of Tepantar in the fairy tale.

Where is it,mother,on the shore of what sea,at the foot ofwhat hills,in the kingdom of what king?

There are no hedges there to mark the fields,no footpath across it by which the villagers reach theirvillage in the evening,or the woman whogathers dry sticks in the forest can bring herload to the market.With patches of yellow grassin the sand and only one tree where the pair ofwise old birds have their nest,lies the desert ofTepantar.

I can imagine how,on just such acloudy day,the young sonof the king is riding alone on agrey horse through the desert,insearch of the princess who lies imprisoned in the giant’s palaceacross that unknown water.

When the haze of the rain comes down in the distant sky,andlightning starts up like asudden fit of pain,does he rememberhis unhappy mother,abandoned by the king,sweeping the cow-stall and wiping her eyes,while he rides through the desert ofTepantar in the fairy tale?

See,mother,it is almost dark before the day is over,and thereare no travellers yonder on the village road.

The shepherd boy has gone home early from the pasture,andmen have left their fields to sit on mats under the eaves of theirhuts,watching the scowling clouds.

Mother,I have left all my books on the shelf—do not ask meto do my lessons now.

When Igrow up and am big like my father,I shall learn all thatmust be learnt.

But just for today,tell me,mother,where the desert ofTepantar in the fairy tale is?