AN artist called Yegor Savvitch, who was spending his summer holidays at the house of an officer’s widow, was sitting on his bed, given up to the depression of morning. —
一个名叫叶戈尔·萨维奇的艺术家，正在一位军官遗孀的家中度过暑假，他坐在床上，被早晨的沮丧所困扰。 —

It was beginning to look like autumn out of doors. —
外面开始看起来像秋天了。 —

Heavy, clumsy clouds covered the sky in thick layers; —
厚重、笨拙的云层密密地覆盖着天空; —

there was a cold, piercing wind, and with a plaintive wail the trees were all bending on one side. —
有着刺骨的寒风，树木在一侧发出哀嚎。 —

He could see the yellow leaves whirling round in the air and on the earth. Farewell, summer! —
他看到黄叶在空中和地面上旋转。再见，夏天！ —

This melancholy of nature is beautiful and poetical in its own way, when it is looked at with the eyes of an artist, but Yegor Savvitch was in no humour to see beauty. —
这种自然的忧郁在一位艺术家的眼中是美丽而诗意的，但叶戈尔·萨维奇没心情欣赏。 —

He was devoured by ennui and his only consolation was the thought that by to-morrow he would not be there. —
他被无聊折磨着，唯一的安慰是明天就可以离开这里了。 —

The bed, the chairs, the tables, the floor, were all heaped up with cushions, crumpled bed-clothes, boxes. —
床上、椅子上、桌子上、地板上，都堆满了靠垫、皱巴巴的床单、盒子。 —

The floor had not been swept, the cotton curtains had been taken down from the windows. —
地板没有打扫，棉花窗帘被从窗户上摘下来了。 —

Next day he was moving, to town.
明天他要搬到城里去。

His landlady, the widow, was out. She had gone off somewhere to hire horses and carts to move next day to town. —
房东太太，也就是那位遗孀，不在家。她已经去哪里找马和车，准备明天搬到城里去。 —

Profiting by the absence of her severe mamma, her daughter Katya, aged twenty, had for a long time been sitting in the young man’s room. —
乘着她严厉的妈妈不在的机会，她的女儿卡蒂亚，二十岁，已经在年轻人的房间里坐了很长时间。 —

Next day the painter was going away, and she had a great deal to say to him. —
明天画家要走了，她有很多话要对他说。 —

She kept talking, talking, and yet she felt that she had not said a tenth of what she wanted to say. With her eyes full of tears, she gazed at his shaggy head, gazed at it with rapture and sadness. —
她不停地说着话，说着话，但她感觉自己还没说出十分之一想说的。泪流满面，她陶醉又悲伤地凝视着他蓬乱的头发。 —

And Yegor Savvitch was shaggy to a hideous extent, so that he looked like a wild animal. —
叶戈尔·萨维奇的头发乱得令人发指，以至于他看起来像一只野兽。 —

His hair hung down to his shoulder-blades, his beard grew from his neck, from his nostrils, from his ears; —
他的头发垂到肩胛，胡须从颈部，从鼻孔，从耳朵生长； —

his eyes were lost under his thick overhanging brows. —
他的眼睛深藏在厚厚的突出的眉毛下面。 —

It was all so thick, so matted, that if a fly or a beetle had been caught in his hair, it would never have found its way out of this enchanted thicket. —
一切都如此浓密，如此纠结，以至于如果一只苍蝇或甲虫被困在他的头发里，它将永远找不到出这片迷人的丛林的路。 —

Yegor Savvitch listened to Katya, yawning. He was tired. —
叶戈尔·萨夫维奇听着卡特娅的话，打着哈欠。他累了。 —

When Katya began whimpering, he looked severely at her from his overhanging eyebrows, frowned, and said in a heavy, deep bass:
当卡特娅开始呜咽时，他从凸出的眉毛下严厉地看着她，皱着眉头，用沉重的低音说道：

“I cannot marry.”
“我不能结婚。”

“Why not?” Katya asked softly.
“为什么不呢？” 卡特娅轻声问道。

“Because for a painter, and in fact any man who lives for art, marriage is out of the question. —
“因为对于画家来说，实际上对于任何为艺术而活的人来说，结婚是不可能的。 —

An artist must be free.”
一个艺术家必须自由。”

“But in what way should I hinder you, Yegor Savvitch?”
“但我会如何妨碍你呢，叶戈尔·萨夫维奇？”

“I am not speaking of myself, I am speaking in general… . —
“我不是在谈论我自己，我是在一般情况下说…。 —

Famous authors and painters have never married.”
著名的作家和画家从来都没有结婚过。”

“And you, too, will be famous–I understand that perfectly. But put yourself in my place. —
“而你，也会出名–我完全理解。但设身处地地想一想我吧。 —

I am afraid of my mother. She is stern and irritable. —
我害怕我妈妈。她严厉且易怒。 —

When she knows that you won’t marry me, and that it’s all nothing … —
当她知道你不会娶我，这一切都是虚假的时候…”. —

she’ll begin to give it to me. Oh, how wretched I am! —
她就开始把它给我。哦，我是多么的痛苦啊！ —

And you haven’t paid for your rooms, either! … .”
你还没付房钱呢！… .

“Damn her! I’ll pay.”
“该死她！我会付的。”

Yegor Savvitch got up and began walking to and fro.
叶戈尔·萨夫维奇站起来来回走动。

“I ought to be abroad!” he said. And the artist told her that nothing was easier than to go abroad. —
“我应该出国！”他说。而画家告诉她，想要出国再容易不过。 —

One need do nothing but paint a picture and sell it.
只需要画一幅画然后卖掉就行了。

“Of course!” Katya assented. “Why haven’t you painted one in the summer?”
“当然！”卡蒂亚同意道。“为什么夏天你没画一幅呢？”

“Do you suppose I can work in a barn like this?” —
“你以为我能在这样的谷仓里工作吗？” —

the artist said ill- humouredly. “And where should I get models?”
画家坏脾气地说。“那我去哪里找模特呢？”

Some one banged the door viciously in the storey below. —
楼下有人狠狠地关上了门。 —

Katya, who was expecting her mother’s return from minute to minute, jumped up and ran away. —
正在等待母亲回来的卡蒂亚跳起来跑开了。 —

The artist was left alone. For a long time he walked to and fro, threading his way between the chairs and the piles of untidy objects of all sorts. —
画家独自一人了。他来回走了很长一段时间，穿过椅子和堆放的各种凌乱物品之间。 —

He heard the widow rattling the crockery and loudly abusing the peasants who had asked her two roubles for each cart. —
他听见寡妇在拨弄着陶器，大声责骂那些要求每辆车要两卢布的农民。 —

In his disgust Yegor Savvitch stopped before the cupboard and stared for a long while, frowning at the decanter of vodka.
他厌烦地停在柜子前，久久地皱着眉头盯着伏特加瓶。

“Ah, blast you!” he heard the widow railing at Katya. “Damnation take you!”
“啊，见鬼啦！”他听见寡妇在狠狠地训斥着卡蒂亚。“该死的伤了你！”

The artist drank a glass of vodka, and the dark cloud in his soul gradually disappeared, and he felt as though all his inside was smiling within him. —
艺术家喝了一杯伏特加，他心灵中的阴云逐渐消失，感觉仿佛所有内心都在微笑着。 —

He began dreaming… . His fancy pictured how he would become great. —
他开始做梦……他的想象描绘了他如何变得伟大。 —

He could not imagine his future works but he could see distinctly how the papers would talk of him, how the shops would sell his photographs, with what envy his friends would look after him. —
他无法想象自己未来的作品，但他清楚地看到了报纸会如何谈论他，商店将如何出售他的照片，他的朋友将多么羡慕他。 —

He tried to picture himself in a magnificent drawing-room surrounded by pretty and adoring women; —
他试图想象自己身处一间华丽的客厅，被漂亮而崇拜的女人包围着； —

but the picture was misty, vague, as he had never in his life seen a drawing-room. —
但这个画面却朦胧、模糊，因为他从未见过真正的客厅。 —

The pretty and adoring women were not a success either, for, except Katya, he knew no adoring woman, not even one respectable girl. —
漂亮而崇拜的女人也不成功，因为除了Katya之外，他并不认识任何一个崇拜他的女人，甚至没有一个像样的女孩。 —

People who know nothing about life usually picture life from books, but Yegor Savvitch knew no books either. —
对生活一无所知的人通常从书本中描绘生活，但Yegor Savvitch也不认识书。 —

He had tried to read Gogol, but had fallen asleep on the second page.
他曾试图阅读高尔基，但在第二页就睡着了。

“It won’t burn, drat the thing!” the widow bawled down below, as she set the samovar. —
“这玩意儿烧不着，该死的东西！” 寡妇在楼下大喊着，煮着热水瓶。 —

“Katya, give me some charcoal!”
“Katya，给我一些木炭！”

The dreamy artist felt a longing to share his hopes and dreams with some one. —
这位梦幻的艺术家渴望与某人分享他的希望和梦想。 —

He went downstairs into the kitchen, where the stout widow and Katya were busy about a dirty stove in the midst of charcoal fumes from the samovar. —
他走下楼到厨房，那里胖乎乎的寡妇和Katya正在一个肮脏的火炉周围忙碌着，热水瓶里散发着木炭烟雾。 —

There he sat down on a bench close to a big pot and began:
他便坐在一个大锅旁的长凳上，开始说：

“It’s a fine thing to be an artist! I can go just where I like, do what I like. —
“成为一个艺术家是一件很好的事情！我可以去我想去的地方，做我想做的事。 —

One has not to work in an office or in the fields. I’ve no superiors or officers over me… —
不用在办公室或田间劳作。我没有上司或长官压在头上…… —

. I’m my own superior. And with all that I’m doing good to humanity!”
我是我的上司。而且所有这些，我正在造福人类！”

And after dinner he composed himself for a “rest.” He usually slept till the twilight of evening. —
晚饭过后，他安排了自己“休息”。他通常会一直睡到傍晚的时候。 —

But this time soon after dinner he felt that some one was pulling at his leg. —
但这一次，晚饭后不久，他感觉有人在拉他的腿。 —

Some one kept laughing and shouting his name. —
有人一直笑着喊着他的名字。 —

He opened his eyes and saw his friend Ukleikin, the landscape painter, who had been away all the summer in the Kostroma district.
他睁开眼睛，看到是他的朋友乌克雷金，这位风景画家整个夏天都在科斯特罗马地区。

“Bah!” he cried, delighted. “What do I see?”
“哎呀！”他高兴地喊道。“我看到了什么？”

There followed handshakes, questions.
接着是握手，问候。

“Well, have you brought anything? I suppose you’ve knocked off hundreds of sketches?” —
“好了，你带了些什么？我想你一定画了很多素描了吧？” —

said Yegor Savvitch, watching Ukleikin taking his belongings out of his trunk.
谢尔盖观察着乌克雷金从皮箱里拿出东西。

“H’m! … Yes. I have done something. And how are you getting on? —
“嗯…… 是的。我做了些作品。你最近怎么样？ —

Have you been painting anything?”
你有画画吗？”

Yegor Savvitch dived behind the bed, and crimson in the face, extracted a canvas in a frame covered with dust and spider webs.
谢尔盖躲到床后面，脸涨得通红，拿出一幅布满灰尘和蜘蛛网的画框里的画布。

“See here… . A girl at the window after parting from her betrothed. In three sittings. —
“看这里…… 一个女孩从窗户看向远去的订婚对象。三次坐姿。 —

Not nearly finished yet.”
还远远没有完成。”

The picture represented Katya faintly outlined sitting at an open window, from which could be seen a garden and lilac distance. —
画里描绘的是模糊轮廓的卡特娅坐在一个开着窗户的地方，窗外可见花园和紫丁香的远处。 —

Ukleikin did not like the picture.
乌克雷金不喜欢这幅画。

“H’m! … There is air and … and there is expression,” he said. —
“嗯！… 这里有空气，… 还有表现,“他说。 —

“There’s a feeling of distance, but … —
“有一种距离的感觉，但是… —

but that bush is screaming … screaming horribly!”
但那个灌木丛在尖叫… 尖叫得可怕！”

The decanter was brought on to the scene.
酒瓶被端上来了。

Towards evening Kostyliov, also a promising beginner, an historical painter, came in to see Yegor Savvitch. —
傍晚时分，也是一位有前途的初学者、历史画家的科斯蒂利奥夫进来看叶戈尔·萨维奇。 —

He was a friend staying at the next villa, and was a man of five-and-thirty. —
他是下一座别墅里的一位朋友，今年三十五岁。 —

He had long hair, and wore a blouse with a Shakespeare collar, and had a dignified manner. —
他留着长发，穿着一件带着莎士比亚领的衬衫，举止庄重。 —

Seeing the vodka, he frowned, complained of his chest, but yielding to his friends’ entreaties, drank a glass.
看到伏特加，他皱了皱眉，抱怨着胸口不舒服，但在朋友们的恳求下，喝了一杯。

“I’ve thought of a subject, my friends,” he began, getting drunk. “I want to paint some new … —
“我有一个题材想法，我的朋友们，”他开始说着醉醺醺的话。 “我想要画一些新的… —

Herod or Clepentian, or some blackguard of that description, you understand, and to contrast with him the idea of Christianity. —
赫罗德或者是克莱普汀这类的恶棍，你明白吧，然后对比他们的是基督教的理念。 —

On the one side Rome, you understand, and on the other Christianity… . —
一边是罗马，你明白吧，另一边是基督教… —

I want to represent the spirit, you understand? The spirit!”
我想要表现那种精神，你明白吧？那种精神！”

And the widow downstairs shouted continually:
楼下的寡妇不停地喊着：

“Katya, give me the cucumbers! Go to Sidorov’s and get some kvass, you jade!”
“卡特婭，把黄瓜给我！去西多罗夫那儿买些发酵饮料，你这混蛋！”

Like wolves in a cage, the three friends kept pacing to and fro from one end of the room to the other. —
三位朋友像笼中的狼一样，在房间里来回踱步。 —

They talked without ceasing, talked, hotly and genuinely; all three were excited, carried away. —
他们不停地交谈，激动地和真诚地交谈；三个人都兴奋异常。 —

To listen to them it would seem they had the future, fame, money, in their hands. —
听他们说话，似乎未来、名声、金钱尽在掌握之中。 —

And it never occurred to either of them that time was passing, that every day life was nearing its close, that they had lived at other people’s expense a great deal and nothing yet was accomplished; —
任何一位都没有意识到时间在流逝，生活即将走向尽头，他们过去白白地依赖别人许多，但仍未有所成就； —

that they were all bound by the inexorable law by which of a hundred promising beginners only two or three rise to any position and all the others draw blanks in the lottery, perish playing the part of flesh for the cannon. —
他们都受着一种无情的法则所束缚，这个法则认为，百个有前途的初学者中，只有两三个能够脱颖而出，其余人在彩票中一无所获，扮演炮灰般灭亡。 —

… They were gay and happy, and looked the future boldly in the face!
他们欢乐、幸福，并勇敢地面对未来！

At one o’clock in the morning Kostyliov said good-bye, and smoothing out his Shakespeare collar, went home. —
凌晨一点，科斯蒂廖夫说了再见，整理了一下莎士比亚领口，回家了。 —

The landscape painter remained to sleep at Yegor Savvitch’s. —
风景画家留下在叶戈尔·萨维奇家过夜。 —

Before going to bed, Yegor Savvitch took a candle and made his way into the kitchen to get a drink of water. —
睡觉前，叶戈尔·萨维奇拿着蜡烛，在黑暗的狭窄过道里去取了杯水。 —

In the dark, narrow passage Katya was sitting, on a box, and, with her hands clasped on her knees, was looking upwards. —
卡特亚坐在一只箱子上，在黑暗中，双手交叉在膝盖上，仰望着上方。 —

A blissful smile was straying on her pale, exhausted face, and her eyes were beaming.
一抹幸福的微笑飘荡在她苍白、疲惫的脸上，她的眼睛闪耀着光芒。

“Is that you? What are you thinking about?” Yegor Savvitch asked her.
“是你吗？你在想什么呢？” 叶戈尔·萨维奇问她。

“I am thinking of how you’ll be famous,” she said in a half-whisper. —
“我在想你会成名的，” 她压低声音说道。 —

“I keep fancying how you’ll become a famous man… . —
“我一直幻想着你将成为一个著名人物……” —

I overheard all your talk… . I keep dreaming and dreaming… .”
我听到了你们所有的谈话……我一直在梦想，一直在梦想……”

Katya went off into a happy laugh, cried, and laid her hands reverently on her idol’s shoulders.
卡特亚幸福地笑着跑开，哭了，虔诚地把双手放在她的偶像肩膀上。