印度

India

Noiseless Feet

无声的脚步

Although India is a land of walkers, there is no sound of footfalls. Most of the feet are bare and all are silent: dark strangers overtake one like ghosts.

尽管在印度这片土地上，有很多人在走路，却听不见他们的脚步声。大多数人光着脚板，所有的脚板踩在地上都不发出一点声响：皮肤黝黑的陌生人，像幽灵一样超到你的前面。

Both in the cities and the country some one is always walking. There are carts and motorcars, and on the roads about Delhi a curious service of camel omnibuses, but most of the people walk, and they walk ever. In the bazaars they walk in their thousands; on the long, dusty roads, miles from anywhere, there are always a few, approaching or receding.

无论城里还是乡下，总有人在漫步。尽管有马车，有汽车，德里附近的公路上还有一种奇特的骆驼公共交通车，但大多数人依然选择步行，而且总在走着。集市里，成千上万的人在漫步；尘土飞扬的漫长公路上，即使前不着村、后不着店，也总能看到那么几个人向你走来或是渐渐远去。

It is odd that the only occasion on which Indians break from their walk into a run or a trot is when they are bearers at a funeral, or have an unusually heavy head—load, or carry a piano. Why there is so much piano—carrying in Calcutta I cannot say, but the streets (as I feel now) have no commoner spectacle than six or eight merry, half—naked fellows, trotting along, laughing and jesting under their burden, all with an odd, swinging movement of the arms.

奇怪的是，只有在葬礼上抬着棺材时，头上顶着的东西格外沉重时，或抬着钢琴时，印度人才会奔跑或是小跑起来。我说不清为什么加尔各答总是有那么多钢琴要抬，但是街上（我现在觉得）最常见的场景就是，六至八个快活的，半裸着身子的人，一路小跑，抬着担子，嬉笑打趣，每个人的胳膊都以一种奇特的节奏摆动着。

One of one's earliest impressions of the Indians is that their hands are inadequate. They suggest no power.

印度人给人的第一印象之一是四肢无力、缺乏力量。

Not only is there always some one walking, but there is always some one resting. They repose at full length wherever the need for sleep takes them; or they sit with pointed knees. Coming from England one is struck by so much inertness; for though the English labourer can be lazy enough he usually rests on his feet, leaning against walls: if he is a land labourer, leaning with his back to the support; if he follows the sea, leaning on his stomach.

不仅总是有人在漫步，而且总有人在休息。只要他们想睡觉，就会平躺下来或抱膝而坐。英国人惊讶于他们的懒散，因为英国的劳动者再懒散也不过是站着休息，倚靠着墙壁。地里劳作的人仰靠着休息；海上的水手们俯倚着休息。

It was interesting to pass on from India and its prostrate philosophers with their infinite capacity for taking naps, to Japan, where there seems to be neither time nor space for idlers. Whereas in India one has continually to turn aside in order not to step upon a sleeping figure—the footpath being a favourite dormitory—in Japan no one is ever doing nothing, and no one appears to be weary or poor.

暂且不论印度，不论那些永远睡不够、喜欢趴着的哲学家，转而看日本——这个时间和空间上都容不下游手好闲之人的国家，就会发现一种有趣的对照。在印度，你总得让到一边以避免踩到躺在地上睡觉的人——而人行道是一处很受欢迎的宿处——在日本，每个人时时刻刻都在做事，没有一个人看起来疲惫或虚弱。

India, save for a few native politicians and agitators, strikes one as a land destitute of ambition. In the cities there are infrequent signs of progress; in the country none. The peasants support life on as little as they can, they rest as much as possible and their carts and implements are prehistoric. They may believe in their gods, but fatalism is their true religion. How little they can be affected by civilisation I learned from a tiny settlement of bush—dwellers not twenty miles from Bombay, close to that beautiful lake which has been transformed into a reservoir, where bows and arrows are still the only weapons and rats are a staple food. And in an hour's time, in a car, one could be telephoning one's friends or watching a cinema!

除去本国的寥寥几个政客和煽动者，印度给人的印象是一个没有野心的国家。在城里，很少看到体现进步的标志；在乡下，则完全找不到进步的踪影。农民用尽可能少的资源维持生计，尽可能多地休息，用着非常原始的车和农具。他们也许会相信他们的神，但真正的宗教信仰却是宿命论。一小批灌木丛中的居民让我意识到，现代文明对他们的影响微乎其微。那是一个离孟买不到20英里的小村落，附近有一片美丽的湖泊，如今已被改造成一个水库。在那里，弓箭是他们仅有的武器，老鼠是他们的主食。而从那里出来你只需要坐一个小时的车，就可以打电话给朋友或是去看一场电影！