《老人与海》Peter 译本——版权所有，盗版必究

《老人与海》Peter 译本——版权所有，盗版必究

前两天整古文英译

今天我们且掉个头

从英文出发，翻译成中文

为了有个相对权威的参照系

所以选了《老人与海》

李继宏译本珠玉在前

Peter也斗胆小试一把

无敢奢望经典，倘有小处耐读，值矣！

今天大家可以看到全书开头一个片段

He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat.

The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.

Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.

“Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff was hauled up. “I could go with you again. We’ve made some money.”

The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him.

“No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.”

“But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.”

“I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.”

“I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.”

“He hasn’t much faith.”

“No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?”

“Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.”

“Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.”

李继宏译本：

他是个老人，独自划着小船，在湾流中捕鱼；八十四天来，他没打到鱼。起初四十天，有个男孩跟着他。但四十天没捕到鱼，男孩的父母对他说，这老人现在绝对是个衰神，倒霉到了极点；受他们吩咐，男孩去了别的船，那船第一个星期就抓到三条好鱼。每天看到老人划着空船进港，男孩感到很难过；他总会跑下去，帮他搬走捆好的绳索，或是鱼钩、鱼枪，还有裹着船帆的桅杆。船帆用面粉袋打了补丁，卷起来宛如象征永久失败的旗帜。

    老人瘦骨嶙峋，后颈上是深深的皱纹。他上半边脸有些褐色的斑块，那是热带海洋上的日光带来的良性皮肤病。斑块蔓延到两颊下部，双手有深深的伤疤，那是长年用绳索对付沉重的海鱼留下的。不过这些伤疤没有新的。它们古老得像久经侵蚀的无鱼沙漠。

    他浑身显得很老，但双眼除外；它们有着海水的颜色，透露出乐观和永不言败的神色。

    “圣迭戈，”他们把小船系好，往岸上走时，男孩对他说，“我又可以陪你去了。我们赚了些钱。”

    老人曾教男孩捕鱼，这孩子敬爱他。

    “不要，”老人说，“你那条船运气好。就留在那里吧。”

    “但你记得吗，上次你八十七天没打到鱼，然后接连三个星期，我们每天都抓到大鱼。”

    “我记得，”老人说，“我知道你离开我，不是因为你怀疑。”

    “是爸爸逼我离开的。我是个孩子，必须听他的话。”

    “我知道，”老人说，“这很正常。”

    “他没什么信心。”

    “是啊，”老人说，“但我们有。对吧？”

    “对的，”男孩说，“我请你去露台酒吧喝啤酒，然后再把东西搬回家，你说呢？”

    “好啊，”老人说，“大家都是打鱼的，就不客气啦。”

Peter 译本

一位老人，独驾轻舟，在湾流中航行。整整八十四天，他一鱼不获。前四十天，还有个小男孩与他为伴；但四十天都一无所获，男孩父母就跟男孩说，这老头一准背运，倒霉到了极点。男孩听了他们的话，去了另外一条船，第一周就捕到了三尾好鱼。尽管如此，看老人日日空船回港，男孩还是很难过，于是总下去帮他的忙，搬绳圈，搬鱼叉，扛裹桅杆的布帆。帆很是老旧，打着补丁，还是用面包袋做的，卷着的时候，就是一面长败之旗。

老人颈背上皱纹深嵌，瘦削憔悴。常年热带海上的暴晒，在他脸颊上留下了点点皮肤癌（良性）的红斑，蔓延到脸两侧。手因为常年拿粗绳处理大鱼，磨出一道道深褶子的疤，已然多年，沧桑如被沙漠腐蚀过，而那里是没有鱼的。

总之，他的一切都很老，除了那双眼睛，与海同色，透着乐观与坚定。

“圣迭戈”，男孩边爬上小艇拖靠的海岸边说，”我又可以跟你去捕鱼了。我们挣了些钱。”

老人曾教男孩捕鱼，男孩很敬爱他。

“别了”，老人说，“你现在跟的那条船运气不错，你呀，还是和他们待一起吧。”

“你忘了吗，你有过一次八十七天一无所获，后来连着三周我们每天都抓大鱼。”

“我没忘，”老人说，“我也知道你离开并不是因为怀疑我。”

“是我爸逼我的，我还小，得听他的。”

“我懂。”老人说，“那是应该的”。

“他没什么信心。”

“是啊，”老人说，“但咱们有。对吧？”

“对！”男孩说。“我请你去天台喝啤酒吧，然后咱们把这些东西拿回去。”

“行啊”， 老人说，“都是打鱼的，就不跟你客气了啊。”