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men, women and ghosts(男人、女人和鬼魂)-第7章

小说: men, women and ghosts(男人、女人和鬼魂) 字数: 每页3500字

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censer;        And the hum of an organ tone;                 And they waved like fans 

in   a   hall   of   stone    Over   a   bier   standing   there   in   the   centre;   alone。 

Each lily bent slowly as it was blown。                Like smoke they rose from the 

violin         Then faded as a swifter bowing                 Jumbled the notes   like 

wavelets       flowing            In    a   splashing;      pashing;     rippling    motion 

Between   broad   meadows   to   an   ocean            Wide   as   a   day   and   blue   as   a 

flower;          Where      every    hour        Gulls     dipped;    and   scattered;    and 

squawked;   and   squealed;           And   over   the   marshes   the Angelus   pealed; 

And     the   prows     of  the   fishing…boats     were    spattered         With     spray。 

And away a couple of frigates were starting                    To race to Java with all 

sails   set;      Topgallants;      and   royals;   and   stunsails;   and   jibs;      And 

wide   moonsails;   and   the   shining   rails        Were   polished   so   bright   they 

sparked in the sun。            All the sails went up with a run:                      〃They 



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call   me   Hanging   Johnny;                      Away…i…oh;                 They  call   me 

Hanging Johnny;                         So hang; boys; hang。〃             And the sun had 

set   and   the   high   moon   whitened;           And   the   ship   heeled   over   to   the 

breeze。         He   drew   her   into   the   shade   of   the   sails;    And   whispered 

tales        Of    voyages     in  the   China    seas;       And     his   arm   around     her 

Held   and   bound   her。         She   almost   swooned;            With   the   breeze   and 

the moon           And the slipping sea;             And he beside her;             Touching 

her; leaning           The ship careening;             With the white moon steadily 

shining over           Her and her lover;           Theodore; still her lover! 

          Then a quiver fell on   the crowded notes;                   And slowly  floated 

A single note which spread and spread                     Till it filled the room with a 

shimmer        like   gold;        And      noises    shivered     throughout      its  length; 

And   tried   its   strength。       They  pulled   it;   and   tore   it;     And   the   stuff 

waned      thinner;    but  still  it  bore  it。      Then     a  wide    rent      Split    the 

arching   tent;         And   balls   of   fire   spurted   through;       Spitting   yellow; 

and   mauve;   and   blue。         One   by   one   they   were   quenched   as   they   fell; 

Only the blue burned steadily。                Paler and paler it grew; and  faded  

away。                   Herr Altgelt stopped。 

     〃Well; Lottachen; my Dear; what do you say? I think I'm in good trim。 

Now let's have dinner。 What's this; my Love; you're very sweet to…day。 I 

wonder   how   it   happens   I'm   the   winner   Of   so   much   sweetness。           But   I 

think you're thinner; You're like a bag of feathers on my knee。 Why; Lotta 

child; you're almost strangling me。 

     I'm  glad   you're   going   out   this   afternoon。  The  days   are   getting   short; 

and   I'm  so   tied At the   Court Theatre   my  poor   little   bride   Has not   much 

junketing I fear; but soon I'll ask our manager to grant a boon。 To…night; 

perhaps; I'll get a pass for you; And when I go; why Lotta can come too。 

     Now dinner; Love。           I want some onion soup To whip me up till that 

rehearsal's over。 You know it's odd how some women can stoop! Fraeulein 

Gebnitz   has   taken   on   a   lover;   A   Jew   named   Goldstein。          No    one   can 

discover If it's his money。          But she lives alone Practically。           Gebnitz is a 

stone; 

     Pores     over   books     all  day;  and    has   no  ear   For   his   wife's   singing。 

Artists   must   have   men;   They   need   appreciation。           But   it's   queer   What 



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messes   people   make   of   their   lives;   when   They   should   know   more。        If 

Gebnitz finds out; then His wife will pack。              Yes; shut the door at once。 I 

did not feel it cold; I am a dunce。〃 

     Frau Altgelt tied her bonnet on and went Into the streets。                  A bright; 

crisp Autumn   wind   Flirted   her   skirts   and   hair。     A  turbulent; Audacious 

wind it was; now close behind; Pushing her bonnet forward till it twined 

The strings across her face; then from in front Slantingly swinging at her 

with a shunt; 

     Until   she   lay   against   it;   struggling;   pushing;   Dismayed   to   find   her 

clothing tightly bound Around her; every fold and wrinkle crushing Itself 

upon her; so that she was wound In draperies as clinging as those found 

Sucking about a sea nymph on the frieze Of some old Grecian temple。                      In 

the breeze 

     The   shops   and   houses   had   a   quality   Of   hard   and   dazzling   colour; 

something   sharp And   buoyant;   like   white;   puffing   sails   at   sea。   The   city 

streets    were    twanging     like   a  harp。   Charlotta    caught     the  movement; 

skippingly   She   blew   along   the   pavement;   hardly   knowing   Toward   what 

destination she was going。 

     She fetched up opposite a jeweller's shop; Where filigreed tiaras shone 

like crowns; And necklaces of emeralds seemed to drop And then float up 

again    with   lightness。    Browns       Of  striped   agates    struck   her  like   cold 

frowns   Amid   the   gaiety   of   topaz   seals;   Carved   though   they   were   with 

heads; and arms; and wheels。 

     A  row   of   pencils   knobbed   with   quartz   or   sard   Delighted   her。    And 

rings   of   every   size   Turned   smartly   round   like   hoops   before   her   eyes; 

Amethyst…flamed or ruby…girdled; jarred To spokes and flashing triangles; 

and starred Like rockets bursting on a festal day。 Charlotta could not tear 

herself away。 

     With eyes glued tightly on a golden box; Whose rare enamel piqued 

her    with   its  hue;  Changeable;      iridescent;    shuttlecocks    Of   shades    and 

lustres    always    darting   through    Its  level;  superimposing       sheet   of  blue; 

Charlotta   did   not   hear   footsteps   approaching。   She   started   at   the   words: 

〃Am I encroaching?〃 

     〃Oh; Heinrich; how you frightened me!              I thought We were to meet at 



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three; is it quite that?〃 〃No; it is not;〃 he answered; 〃but I've caught The 

trick of missing you。        One thing is flat; I cannot go on this way。            Life is 

what Might best be conjured up by the word:                 ‘Hell'。 Dearest; when will 

you come?〃        Lotta; to quell 

     His effervescence; pointed to the gems Within the window; asked him 

to admire A bracelet or a buckle。           But one stems Uneasily the burning of 

a   fire。   Heinrich   was   chafing;   pricked   by   his   desire。   Little   by   little   she 

wooed him to her mood Until at last he promised to be good。 

     But here he started on another tack; To buy a jewel; which one would 

Lotta choose。 She vainly urged against him all her lack Of other trinkets。 

Should she dare to use A ring or brooch her husband might accuse Her of 

extravagance; and ask to see A strict accounting; or still worse might be。 

     But Heinrich would not be persuaded。               Why Should he not give her 

what he liked?        And in He went; determined certainly to buy A thing so 

beautiful     that  it  would   win    Her   wavering     fancy。   Altgelt's    violin   He 

would outscore by such a handsome jewel That Lotta could no longer be 

so cruel! 

     Pity   Charlotta;   torn   in   diverse   ways。   If   she   went   in   with   him;   the 

shopman   might   Recognize   her;   give   her   her   name;   in   days   To   come   he 

could denounce her。         In her fright She almost fled。         But Heinrich would 

be   quite   Capable     of  pursuing。     By   and    by  She    pushed    the  door   and 

entered hurriedly。 

     It took some pains to keep him from bestowing A pair of ruby earrings; 

carved like roses; The setting twined to represent the growing Tendrils and 

leaves; upon her。       〃Who supposes I could obtain such things!                It simply 

closes All comfort for me。〃          So he changed his mind And bought as slight 

a gift as he could find。 

     A locket; frosted over with seed pearls; Oblong and slim; for wearing 

at   the   neck;   Or   hidden   in   the   bosom;   their   joined   curls   Should   lie   in   it。 

And further to bedeck His love; Heinrich had picked a whiff; a fleck; The 

merest   puff   of   a   thin;   linked   chain   To   hang   it   from。 Lotta   could   not 

refrain 

     From weeping as they sauntered down the street。 She did not want the 

locket; yet she did。 To have him love her she found very sweet; But it is 



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hard to keep love always hid。 Then there was something in her heart which 

chid Her; told her she loved Theodore in him; That all these meetings were 

a foolish whim。 

     She thought of Theodore and the life they led; So near together; but so 

little mingled。 The great clouds bulged and bellied overhead; And the fresh 

wind about her body tingled; The crane of a large warehouse creaked and 

jingled; Charlotta held her breath for very fear; About her in the street she 

seemed to hear:            〃They call me Hanging Johnny;                    Away…i…oh; 

They call me Hanging Johnny;                     So hang; boys; hang。〃 

     And it was Theodore; under the racing skies; Who held her and who 

whispered in her ear。 She knew her heart was telling her no lies; Beating 

and hammering。         He was so dear; The touch of him would send her in a 

queer Swoon that was half an ecstasy。             And yearning For Theodore; she 

wandered; slowly turning 

     Street after street as Heinrich wished it so。 He had some aim; she had 

forgotten what。 Their progress was confused and very slow; But at the last 

they reached a lonely spot; A garden far above the highest shot Of soaring 

steeple。     At   their   feet;   the   town   Spread   open   like   a   chequer…board   laid 

down。 

     Lotta  was   dimly   conscious   of   the  rest; Vag

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