翻译 / 潘安荣
The Girl and the Birches
The birches had just put on their flimsy green lace and the woods seemed vast and primeval. To me the train no longer seemed an incongruous monster in these woods, rather the contrary, it seemed highly convenient. I was glad that I could sit by the window admiring the unbroken line of lacy birch woods. By the next window stood a young girl, not particularly good-looking: her forehead was a trifle too high and met the top of her head at almost right angles curving back abruptly in a rather unexpected scholarly manner and suggesting somehow that she worked in a chemist’s shop. From time to time she would throw her head back and dart a birdlike look round the car as if a hawk were watching her. Then she would thrust her head out of the window again.
I was curious to see what she was like left to herself with the green of the birch-trees. I got up quietly and looked out of the window. She was gazing into the shining lacy green, smiling to herself, whispering something, her cheeks flaming.
Publishied by Penguin Books © 1987
Translated by L. Navrozov