婚礼之舞
佚名
他握着我的手，他已成为一个男人，不再是我记忆中的孩子了。随着岁月的流逝，从他的手到脸，还有他冲我微笑的样子，都越来越像他的父亲。我们沿着地板优雅地踏着舞步，他年轻的新娘站在旁边看着我们。我有新女儿了！噢，不知不觉已过去了许多年！那天，我还疲惫不堪地抱着一个哇哇啼哭的婴儿，数着他粉红的小手指和小脚趾。现在，我却再也不是他生命中最重要的女人了。
他像他爸爸当年一样，时而轻盈旋转，时而带着我风也似的大踏步舞动。不知他爸爸是否在看着我们，此刻儿子调皮地眨着眼睛。突然，他搂住我的腰，使我的身体后倾，我笑了起来，这笑声和与我年龄一半大小的女孩子发出的一样爽朗。儿子这个小淘气顺势贴近我，宾客们鼓起掌来。他吻了我的面颊后，扶我起身。回首逝去的往昔，我差点流下遗憾的泪水。
不，那不是遗憾的泪水。对这个孩子，这个男人，没什么值得遗憾的。他一直是，也将永远是我欢乐的源泉。时间抹不去那些悲伤和心痛，但是没什么可遗憾的，正如活着就会有伤心的时刻，有孩子也会有伤心。既然我的儿子已经成了自己想做的人，我也就没什么可遗憾的了。
音乐节奏渐缓，他的情绪也开始变化。如果从他眼中能看出他理解我此刻的感受，我肯定会哭出来的。想到这些，我不禁投入他的怀抱，把头靠在他宽厚的肩膀上。整个房间一下安静了，就连婴儿都停止了哭闹。柔情的钢琴曲开始让我们在地板上旋转，经过那些熟悉和陌生的面孔。他们的微笑也引我发笑，让我意识到今天不是哭泣的日子。儿子的手在背后推了我一下，这个微妙的动作让我知道，该轮到我的新女儿照顾他了。
这个日子不该哭泣，但是眼泪却要落下来。我叹了口气，摸了摸他光滑的脸庞，看着这张从婴儿到儿童，再到少年，最后变成大人的脸。是不是这一天对于做母亲的来说都很难过呢？我情不自禁地这样想。随着钢琴曲渐渐过渡到儿子特意挑选来和新娘伴舞的音乐，我转过身看见新娘脸上露出害羞的神色，她拉着我的另一只手。我不能对他们中的任何一个说话，但我知道，当我吻他俩时，他们能从我的眼中读出我心里的想法。
走到舞池尽头时，我突然意识到，今天确实有件遗憾的事—— 丈夫没能在这里牵着我的手。
The Wedding Dance
Anonymous
The hand that clasps mine is not that of the child I can still remember, but that of the man he has become. From that hand to his face to the smile he beams at me, he is his father in days gone by. We move gracefully across the floor as his young bride looks on. My new daughter. Oh, how the years have passed! It seems I didn’t even notice. One day, I held a squalling infant in my exhausted arms and counted tiny pink fingers and toes. The next, I’m no longer the most important woman in his life.
An effortless spin and he’s taking me across the floor with a flare like his father’s. I wonder if he’s looking down on us at this moment as my son’s eyes sparkle with his mischief. Suddenly, I’m bent backward and laughing like a girl half my age, my young rogue leaning over me and guests applauding. He kisses my cheek and spins me upright again. The regretful tears of the past threaten my eyes.
No, they are not regretful tears. I have no regrets where this boy—this man—is concerned. He has been, and always will be, my pure joy. Time cannot wipe away the sadness and heartache, but there was never regret! Heartache comes with having children as it does with being alive. If my son is all he wants to be, I have no regrets.
As the music slows, his mood seems to waver. Knowing that if I see any of what I’m feeling in his eyes I will surely cry, I move into his arms and rest my head on his strong shoulder. A hush has descended on the entire room; not even the babies are fussing. The gentle piano guides us around the floor, passed faces that have always been near, and new ones destined for the same. Their smiles bring one to my face as I realize this is not a day for tears. The hand against my back gives me a squeeze. It is a most subtle gesture to let me know my new daughter’s turn to care for him has come.
It is not a day for tears, but they threaten nonetheless. I sigh and touch his smooth cheek, seeing the face of a baby, child, teen, and man. Is this day so difficult for all mothers? I can’t help wondering. As the music switches with ease to the one, he chose to dance to with his bride, I turn and find her shy face with my other hand. I can’t speak to either, but I know that my heart is in my eyes as each receives my kiss.
Walking to the edge of the floor, I suddenly realize I do have one regret today. I regret that my husband is not here to hold my hand.
一只狗的遗嘱
尤金·奥尼尔
我叫席尔维丹?安伯伦?奥尼尔，而家人、朋友和熟识我的人，都叫我伯莱明。衰老带给我的负担让我认识到自己已经走到了生命的尽头，因此，我将把最后的情感和遗嘱埋葬于主人的心中。直到我死后，他才会蓦然发现，这些情感和遗嘱就埋藏在他心灵的一隅，当他孤寂时，或许会想起我，就在那一瞬间，他会突然感受到这份遗嘱的内容，我期望他能将此铭记于心，当做纪念。
我可以遗留下来的实物少得可怜。其实我们比人类更聪明，我们不会将一些乱七八糟的东西收藏在一个大仓库里，也不会把时间浪费在储藏金钱上，更不会为了保持现有的和没有得到的东西，而扰乱自己的睡眠。
除了爱和信赖，我没有什么值钱的东西可以留给他人。我将这些留给所有爱过我的人，首先要留给我的男主人和女主人，我知道他们会为我的离去献上最深切的哀悼；其次要留给曾经善待我的自由公民；还要留给茜、罗、威利和诺米。当然，如果要把所有爱过我的人的名单列出来，我会强迫我的主人写一本书。死亡是世间一切生灵都无法拒绝的一个过程，对于即将面临死亡的我来说，说这些大话简直是徒劳。可是要知道我一直都是惹人喜欢的狗，也该让我的这点儿虚荣心得到满足吧。
希望我的男女主人能将我牢记在心，但并不要为我悲伤太久。在我的有生之年里，我会竭尽所能在他们悲伤时，给他们慰藉；在他们开心时，为他们增添几分欢愉。但一想到我的死将会给他们带来悲伤，便令我痛苦不已。
我要让他们知道，没有任何狗曾像我这样快乐地生活过，而这全都得归功于他们对我的关爱。如今我已经变得又瞎又聋还瘸，连昔日灵敏的嗅觉也丧失殆尽。现在，即使是一只兔子在我的鼻子底下恣意走动，我也可能浑然不觉。我的尊严已经在病痛和衰老中消失，这是一种莫名的耻辱，生命似乎也在嘲笑我的无能。我知道，我该在疾病成为自己以及所有爱我的人的负担之前与他们道别。
我的悲伤来自于即将离开自己所爱的人，而非死亡。狗并不像人一样惧怕死亡，我们认为死亡是生命的一部分，而不是毁掉生命的恐怖恶灵。有谁能够知道死亡之后会是什么呢？
我宁愿相信我去往的是天堂。那里的每个人都青春永驻，美食饱腹；那里每天都有浪漫精彩的事情发生，那里的美女近乎完美无瑕，那里的杰克兔如天堂美女一样轻盈地奔跑于沙漠中。在那里，我们时刻都可以享受到美味佳肴。在每个漫长的夜晚，都有无数永不熄灭的壁炉，那些燃烧的木柴一根根卷曲起来，闪烁着火焰的光芒，我们倦怠地打着盹，进入甜蜜的梦乡。梦中会再现我们在人世间的英勇时光以及男主人和女主人的无限爱怜。
恐怕我的这些期盼对于一只狗来说太多了，但死亡前的平静和安详一定是有的。给予衰老疲倦的身心一个安详而长久的休憩之所，让我在人世间得以长眠。我已享受到充裕的爱。这里，将是我最完美的归宿。
我最后还有一个诚挚的祈求。我曾听到女主人说：“伯莱明死后，我再也不会养别的狗了。我是如此爱它，这种感情无法倾注到别的狗身上。”
如今我要恳求她，再养一只狗吧！把对我的那些爱给它。永不再养别的狗，并不会加重她对我的回忆之情。
我希望能够感受到，这个家庭一旦有了我之后，便无法再生活在没有狗的日子里。我绝不是那种心胸狭窄、嫉妒心强的狗。我一直认为大部分的狗都是善良的（像我一样，晚上，我愿意与一只猫，甚至是黑猫分享卧室内的那块地毯，我用善良的心灵忍受着它那暴躁的脾气，很少和它动怒，也从不斤斤计较）。当然了，善良的狗还有很多。众所周知，达尔马提亚狗是最好的狗。
所以，我建议让达尔马提亚狗做我的接班人。它们的繁殖能力不强，但是它们举止高雅，而且有着与众不同的帅气，就像我年轻时一样。我的男主人和女主人千万不要勉强它做无法办到的事情。但它会尽力把一切事情做到最好，一定会的！当然它有一些不可避免的缺点，别人总会拿这些缺点与我比较，这反而有助于他们对我的回忆常葆如新。把我的颈圈、皮带、外套和雨衣留给它，这是您1929年在巴黎的赫耳墨斯为我订做的。以往大家总会用赞叹的眼光看着我穿戴这些东西，绕过温德姆宫殿，沿着公园大道走下去。虽然它穿戴起来绝对无法像我那样英姿飒爽，但我深信，它一定会竭尽所能不表现得像只笨拙、没见过世面的狗。
在这个牧场上，它也许会在某些方面，证明自己是可以和我媲美的。我想，至少在追逐杰克兔这件事上，它一定会表现得比衰老时的我优秀。虽然它有许多无法弥补的缺点，但我依然希望它在我的老家过得幸福快乐。
亲爱的男女主人，这是我道别的最后一个请求了。
无论什么时候，你们到我的坟前看我，借助我与你们相伴一生长久、快乐的回忆，请以满怀哀伤而欢欣的口吻对自己说：“这里埋葬着爱我们的和我们爱的朋友。”
不管我睡得多沉，依旧可以听到你们的呼唤，所有的死神都无法阻止我朝你们欢快地摇尾巴。
The Last Will and Testament of an Extremely Distinguished Dog
Eugene O'Neill
I’m Silverdene Emblem O’Neill (familiarly known to my family, friends and acquaintances as Blemie), because the burden of my years is heavy upon me, and I realize the end of my life is near, do hereby bury my last will and testament in the mind of my Master. He will not know it is there until I am dead. Then, remembering me in his loneliness, he will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask him then to inscribe it as a memorial to me.
I have little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are wiser than men. They do not set great store upon things. They do not waste their time hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about objects they have, and to obtain the objects they have not.
There is nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my faith. These I leave to those who have loved me, to my Master and Mistress, who I know will mourn me most; to Freeman who has been so good to me; to Cyn and Roy and Willie and Naomi and but if I should list all those who have loved me it would force my Master to write a book. Perhaps it is in vain of me to boast when I am so near death, which returns all beasts and vanities to dust, but I have always been an extremely lovable dog.
I ask my Master and Mistress to remember me always, but not to grieve for me too long. In my life I have tried to be a comfort to them in time of sorrow, and a reason for added joy in their happiness. It is painful for me to think that even in death I should cause them pain.
Let them remember that while no dog has ever had a happier life (and this I owe to their love and care for me), now that I have grown blind and deaf and lame, and even my sense of smell fails me so that a rabbit could be right under my nose and I might not know, my pride has sunk to a sick, bewildered humiliation. I feel life is taunting me with having over lingered my welcome. It is time I said good-bye, before I become too sick a burden on myself and on those who love me.
It will be sorrow to leave them, but not a sorrow to die. Dogs do not fear death as men do. We accept it as a part of life, not as something alien and terrible which destroys life. What may come after death, who knows?
I would like to believe that there is a Paradise where one is always young and full-bladdered; here all the day one dillies and dallies with an amorous multitude of houris, beautifully spotted; where jack-rabbits that run fast but not too fast (like the houris) are as the sands of the desert; where each blissful hour is mealtime; where in long evenings there are a million fireplaces with logs forever burning and one curls oneself up and blinks into the flames and nods and dreams, remembering the old brave days on earth, and the love of one’s Master and Mistress.
I am afraid this is too much for even such a dog as I am to expect. But peace, at least, is certain. Peace and long rest for weary old heart and head and limbs, and eternal sleeps in the earth I have loved so well. Perhaps, after all, this is best.
One last request I earnestly make. I have heard my Mistress say, “When Blemie dies we must never have another dog. I love him so much I could never love another one.”
Now I would ask her, for love of me, to have another. It would be a poor tribute to my memory never to have a dog again.
What I would like to feel is that, having once had me in the family, now she cannot live without a dog! I have never had a narrow jealous spirit. I have always held that most dogs are good (and one cat, the black one I have permitted to share the living-room rug during the evenings, whose affection I have tolerated in a kindly spirit, and in rare sentimental moods, even reciprocated a trifle). Some dogs, of course, are better than others. Dalmatians, naturally, as everyone knows, are best.
So I suggest a dalmatian as my successor. He can hardly be as well-bred, or as well-mannered or as distinguished and handsome as I was in my prime. My Master and Mistress must not ask the impossible. But he will do his best, I am sure, and even his inevitable defects will help by comparison to keep my memory green. To him I bequeath my collar and leash and my overcoat and raincoat, made to order in 1929 at Hermes in Paris. He can never wear them with the distinction I did, walking around the Place Vendome, or later along Park Avenue, all eyes fixed on me in admiration; but again I am sure he will do his utmost not to appear a mere gauche provincial dog.
Here on the ranch, he may prove himself quite worthy of comparison, in some respects. He will, I presume, come closer to jack-rabbits than I have been able to in recent years. And, for all his faults, I hereby wish him the happiness I know will be his in my old home.
One last word of farewell, dear Master and Mistress.
Whenever you visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my long happy life with you: “Here lies one who loved us and whom we loved.”
No matter how deep my sleep I shall hear you, and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail.
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