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第二部分：从汉语到英语我亲爱的莫多克（2）
还有这一段，布拉姆和莫多克都长大了，他们的友谊也在一天天加深，他们真的就像一对很要好的朋友，莫多克是这样通人性，看到这里，我几乎忘了她是一头小象：
The first thing Bram did upon his return was run to Mo, giving her hugs and kisses. Early on, Modoc developed a special way of showing Bram her affection. She would put her trunk over Bram’s shoulder, snaking it around his waist, hold him tight, all the while making rumbling noises. It looked quite protective.
（布拉姆放学后的第一件事就是奔到莫多克那里去，拥抱她，亲吻她。时间一长，莫多克也养成了一套向布拉姆表达感情的方法，她先把鼻子搭在布拉姆的肩上，又顺着往下勾住他的腰，把他搂得紧紧的，嘴里一边还发出呜噜呜噜的声音，好像是在护卫着布拉姆。）
这就是一个小男孩儿和一头大象之间的真挚友爱，它胜过了一个男孩儿和一个女孩儿之间的语言交谈，但它依然传达着一种人性化的情感，正是这种从小培养起来的感情，支撑着他们历经了后来的凄风苦雨。作者写到莫多克和布拉姆之间交流的时候，经常用到“talk”、“chat”、“complain”、“murmur”这样的词，仿佛他们两个真的能互相说话一样。所以在翻译中，我们就根据当时的情境，分别把这些词译为“聊天”、“交谈”、“说话”、“争吵”、“喃喃低语”等等。其实，我已经把他们当成亲密无间、患难与共的朋友了。
书中有很多描写非常动人，不仅仅是故事的本身，它还有一种让人能够久久回味的意义，通过莫多克这头大象，我更深彻地感受到人与自然交融的美妙。从这点来说，作者的英语文笔真的很漂亮。比如书中神秘的印度人雅格拉特对布拉姆说的这段话：
What you have to be able to do with your Modoc is what man has been seeking for a long time. To communicate with nature through the animals. Treasure it. The sounds of nature are its music, its lyrics, and it comes from all living things. The subtle violin whispers of the wind in the pine forest, the howling bassoon of the violent monsoon, the clarinet of the birds, the drums of the earthquakes and volcanoes, the cymbals of the lightning and thunder, the harp of the oceans, together they play God’s song----early morning dripping of water from a night storm, the songbirds in the meadow during the sunny afternoon, the owl, the roar of a lion, the evening breezes blowing through the trees. It is a true song. Not a story. Not a fable with a point made at its end. But a song that sings within and without all living things.
(你能与莫多克进行交流，正是人们多少年来所梦想的，那就是，通过动物与大自然交流，珍视它吧。大自然的各种声音都是他的音乐，它是诗歌，它来自一切有生命的东西。松林中的风声像奇妙的小提琴的低语，凶暴的季风像巴松管的吼叫，鸟儿的啁啾如同单簧管的独奏，地震和火山就像鼓声隆隆，电闪雷鸣像铙钹的重击。海涛汹涌恰似竖琴的拨弦，他们一起汇成神的歌曲——夜晚的风暴留下清晨滴答的水声，阳光灿烂的下午，会唱歌的鸟儿在草地上啼啭，还有猫头鹰恐怖的鸣叫，雄狮的怒吼，晚风轻轻掠过树梢。那是真正的歌唱，不是讲故事，也不是在结尾点题的寓言，而是一首歌，它在所有生命体内咏唱，也在大自然中咏唱。)
在《莫多克》这本书里，令人惊奇的情境不断出现，又迅速地消失，有时它牵扯着我突然进入一个全新的境界，我甚至很久找不到适当的词语，而只有惊叹。比如下面这段景色的描写：
It was a lovely day. Summer was stealing some extra time while fall slept. White puffs of clouds hung in the sky with seemingly no interest in moving on. The rains had turned the countryside into a sea of green covering the hilltops. The slopes, spotted with groves of sycamore and spruce trees, caught the runoff and were a deeper green, with splashes of purple sage, the essence of the lush valley. The rainwater slowed and settled into the rich loam, and from it grew the emerald grass that carpeted God’s house, grass where the regal stage grazed. In the middle of the palace’s private forest flowed the beautiful Agra, a mystical river of dark blue water. It writhed through the forest like a giant serpent, angling through the trees, changing in width, in girth, never ending, sometimes multi-channeled, and splitting into many tributaries.
（天气真好，秋天还在沉睡之中，夏天正在偷走秋天的时光。白色的云朵高悬在天空，好像没有飘走的兴致。一场大雨把田野变成了绿色的海洋，一直覆盖到小山顶上，点缀着簇簇槭树和云杉的陡坡峭壁，接住了顺坡而下的流水，显得更加郁郁葱葱。丛丛紫色的鼠尾草惹人注目，散发着翠谷特有的芬芳。雨水渐渐渗入了沃土，从那里长出茂盛浓绿的青草，给上帝的屋宇铺上了绿毯，也让国王的牡鹿群追逐奔跑。在宫廷专有的森林之中，流淌着一条美丽的艾格拉河，深蓝色的河水神秘莫测。它像一条巨蟒一样在林中蜿蜒而过，穿行在林木之间，时宽时窄，时急时缓，永不停息，有时候还分成多条河道一起流淌，或者生出很多支流。）
这是可以让人沉醉的宁静的美，可以让人忘却一切的仙境般的美，也仿佛是一种可以让人超越尘世的神秘的美。翻译这样的段落，需要的不仅是词汇，更重要的是对美的感受力和超越文字的想象力（a piercing imagination）, 只有当我的头脑中形成一幅幅图画的时候，当我的心浸在泪水中的时候，我的语言才能在笔下像小溪一样流淌出来：风暴中的印度洋上，一艘船在飘摇，即将倾覆；神秘的印度森林里，月光衬出了神象阿托尔的剪影……
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