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Long， long ago there lived at the foot of the mountain a poor farmer and his aged， widowed mother. They owned a bit of land which supplied them with food， and they were humble， peaceful， and happy.
Shining was governed by a despotic2 leader who though a warrior， had a great and cowardly shrinking from anything suggestive of3 failing health and strength. This caused him to send out a cruel proclamation. The entire province was given strict orders to immediately put to death all aged people. Those were barbarous days， and the custom of abandoning old people to die was not uncommon. The poor farmer loved his aged mother with tender reverence， and the order filled his heart with sorrow. But no one ever thought twice about4 obeying the mandate of the governor， so with many deep and hopeless sighs， the youth prepared for what at that time was considered the kindest mode of death.
Just at sundown， when his day’s work was ended， he took a quantity of5 unwhitened rice6 which was the principal food for the poor， and he cooked， dried it， and tied it in a square cloth， which he swung in a bundle around his neck along with a gourd filled with cool， sweet water. Then he lifted his helpless old mother to his back and started on his painful journey up the mountain. The road was long and steep; the narrow road was crossed and re-crossed by many paths made by the hunters and woodcutters. In some place， they got lost and confused， but he gave no heed. One path or another， it mattered not. On he went， climbing blindly upward―ever upward towards the high bare summit of what is known as Obatsuyama， the mountain of the “abandoning of the aged.”
The eyes of the old mother were not so dim but that they noted the reckless hastening from one path to another， and her loving heart grew anxious. Her son did not know the mountain’s many paths and his return might be one of danger， so she stretched forth her hand and snapping the twigs from brushes as they passed. She quietly dropped a handful every few steps of the way so that as they climbed， the narrow path behind them was dotted at frequent intervals with tiny piles of twigs. At last the summit was reached. Weary and heart sick， the youth gently released his burden and silently prepared a place of comfort as his last duty to the loved one. Gathering fallen pine needles， he made a soft cushion and tenderly lifted his old mother onto it. He wrapped7 her padded coat more closely about the stooping8 shoulders and with tearful eyes and an aching heart he said farewell. The trembling mother’s voice was full of unselfish love as she gave her last injunction. “Let not thine9 eyes be blinded， my son.” She said. “The mountain road is full of dangers. LOOK carefully and follow the path which holds the piles of twigs. They will guide you to the familiar path farther down”. The son’s surprised eyes looked back over the path， then at the poor old， shriveled hands all scratched and soiled by their work of love. His heart broke within and bowing to the ground， he cried aloud： “oh， Honorable mother， your kindness breaks my heart！ I will not leave you. Together we will follow the path of twigs， and together we will die！”
Once more he shouldered his burden （how light it seemed now） and hastened down the path， through the shadows and the moonlight， to the little hut in the valley. Beneath the kitchen floor was a walled closet for food， which was covered and hidden from view. There the son hid his mother， supplying her with everything she needed， continually watching and fearing she would be discovered. Time passed， and he was beginning to feel safe when again the governor sent forth heralds10 bearing an unreasonable order， seemingly as a boast of his power. His demand was that his subjects should present him with a rope of ashes.
The entire province trembled with dread. The order must be obeyed yet who in all Shining could make a rope of ashes？ One night， in great distress， the son whispered the news to his hidden mother. “Wait！” she said. “I will think. I will think.” On the second day she told him what to do. “Make rope of twisted straw，” she said. “Then stretch it upon a row of flat stones and burn it on a windless night.” He called the people together and did as she said and when the blaze died down11， there upon the stones， with every twist and fiber showing perfectly， lay a rope of ashes.
The governor was pleased at the wit of the youth and praised greatly， but he demanded to know where he had obtained his wisdom. “Alas！ Alas！” cried the farmer， “the truth must be told！” and with deep bows he related12 his story. The governor listened and then meditated in silence. Finally he lifted his head. “Shining needs more than strength of youth，” he said gravely. “Ah， that I should have forgotten the well-known saying， ‘with the crown of snow， there cometh wisdom！’” That very hour the cruel law was abolished， and custom drifted into13 as far a past that only legends remain.
很久很久以前，大山腳下住着一位穷苦的农夫和他寡居的老母。母子俩有一小块儿田地赖以过活，生活简朴、平静而快乐。 西宁藩（音译）受一位独裁的领主统治。他尽管是武士出身，却异常惧怕看到健康或体力出现一点点衰退的迹象。为此，他颁下一道残酷的命令，严令处死全藩所有的老人。那还是野蛮时代，遗弃老人致死的风俗并非罕见。这可怜的农夫敬爱年老的母亲，可这道命令让他愁肠百结。说到执行领主的敕令，无人敢犹豫不决。于是，在满怀绝望的长吁短叹之后，年轻人只好准备以那时公认最仁慈的死亡方式处置老母亲。
日落时分，一俟收工，农夫便取了一些糙米煮熟晒干，那是穷人家的主食，然后用一块方布包好，和装满水的葫芦一起挂在脖子上，那水清冽甘甜。他随后便背起无助的老母亲，开始了艰难的上山之旅。这条路又长又陡，窄窄的山道被猎户和伐木工踩踏出一条又一条的岔路小径。他们不知在何处迷了路，搞不清方向，但农夫也不理会。走这条路还是那条路，这都无关紧要。他走啊，走啊，漫无目的地往上爬，这座因“弃老”而闻名的山叫作奥巴兹山（音译），他朝那光秃秃的绝顶爬去。
老母亲还不至两眼昏花到觉察不出儿子因着急赶路而在各个小道间胡乱穿行。慈爱的母亲不禁担忧。儿子对山间这么多的羊肠小道并不熟，归途难免遇险。行进途中，她便伸出一只手去折灌木的嫩枝。儿子一边爬，母亲一边悄悄地隔几步就抛下一把枝条。这样，他们身后的小道每隔一段都点缀着一小捆一小捆的枝子。终于到了山顶，年轻人又累又伤心，把母亲轻轻放下，便一声不响收拾了一处舒适的所在给慈母最后一次尽孝。他把掉落的松针收集起来，做成一个软软的垫子，抱起母亲轻轻放在上面。他扶着母亲略驼的肩背，帮她把棉袄裹得更紧了些，随后含泪忍痛跟母亲告别。
母亲对儿子做了最后的嘱托，老人家声音颤抖，饱含无私的舐犊之情。“儿呀，你的眼睛可要亮堂。”她说，“山路凶险。仔细看清楚了，顺着有一捆捆枝子的路走，就能找到那条熟悉的小路下山了。”儿子满眼惊讶，转头去望走过的路，又看看老母亲那双因为帮助心爱的儿子而被划伤、弄脏的手。他的心碎了。之后，他跪倒在地大声哭道：“哦，好妈妈，您的爱让儿子心都碎了！我不会丢下您不管，咱们一起沿着有树枝的路走，就是死也要死在一道！”
儿子再一次背起母亲（似乎现在很轻），沿着小路下山，穿过阴影和月光，回到了山谷里的小茅屋。厨房地板下有一间用来储存食物的封闭地窖，盖住了，不为人见。他把母亲藏在那里，提供她所需的一切，一直小心谨慎，生怕她被人发现。光阴荏苒，就在他满以为风头已过的时候，领主又派传令官发布了一条不可理喻的命令，似乎就是为了耀武扬威。他命令臣民呈交一根由灰烬做成的绳子。
全藩民众都惊惧不已。敕令必须得到执行，可是在西宁藩，谁能做出一根灰烬绳呢？一天夜里，儿子一筹莫展，把这事悄悄告诉了藏身地窖的母亲。“等等！”她说，“让我想想，让我想想。”第二天，她便告诉儿子该如何做。“把稻草拧成绳子，”她说，“然后铺在一排扁平石头上，夜里无风的时候用火烧了。”儿子叫来四邻，按母亲的办法做。火苗熄灭后，扁平石上露出一根灰烬绳，每一处扭结、每一根纤维都看得清清楚楚。
领主对年轻人的才智很满意，赞叹不已，但要他交代怎么想出这么绝妙的法子。“唉，唉，”农夫叫道，“我一定说实话！”他深深鞠了几躬，把事情原原本本讲了出来。领主听完默默思考。最终，他抬起了头。“西宁藩不仅仅需要年轻人的力量。”他嚴肃地说，“唉，我真不该忘了那句有名的谚语：‘头白似雪，智慧自来！’”残酷的法令立即废除，弃老的风俗也自然变成久远的传说。 □
（译者为“《英语世界》杯”翻译大赛获奖者）
Shining was governed by a despotic2 leader who though a warrior， had a great and cowardly shrinking from anything suggestive of3 failing health and strength. This caused him to send out a cruel proclamation. The entire province was given strict orders to immediately put to death all aged people. Those were barbarous days， and the custom of abandoning old people to die was not uncommon. The poor farmer loved his aged mother with tender reverence， and the order filled his heart with sorrow. But no one ever thought twice about4 obeying the mandate of the governor， so with many deep and hopeless sighs， the youth prepared for what at that time was considered the kindest mode of death.
Just at sundown， when his day’s work was ended， he took a quantity of5 unwhitened rice6 which was the principal food for the poor， and he cooked， dried it， and tied it in a square cloth， which he swung in a bundle around his neck along with a gourd filled with cool， sweet water. Then he lifted his helpless old mother to his back and started on his painful journey up the mountain. The road was long and steep; the narrow road was crossed and re-crossed by many paths made by the hunters and woodcutters. In some place， they got lost and confused， but he gave no heed. One path or another， it mattered not. On he went， climbing blindly upward―ever upward towards the high bare summit of what is known as Obatsuyama， the mountain of the “abandoning of the aged.”
The eyes of the old mother were not so dim but that they noted the reckless hastening from one path to another， and her loving heart grew anxious. Her son did not know the mountain’s many paths and his return might be one of danger， so she stretched forth her hand and snapping the twigs from brushes as they passed. She quietly dropped a handful every few steps of the way so that as they climbed， the narrow path behind them was dotted at frequent intervals with tiny piles of twigs. At last the summit was reached. Weary and heart sick， the youth gently released his burden and silently prepared a place of comfort as his last duty to the loved one. Gathering fallen pine needles， he made a soft cushion and tenderly lifted his old mother onto it. He wrapped7 her padded coat more closely about the stooping8 shoulders and with tearful eyes and an aching heart he said farewell. The trembling mother’s voice was full of unselfish love as she gave her last injunction. “Let not thine9 eyes be blinded， my son.” She said. “The mountain road is full of dangers. LOOK carefully and follow the path which holds the piles of twigs. They will guide you to the familiar path farther down”. The son’s surprised eyes looked back over the path， then at the poor old， shriveled hands all scratched and soiled by their work of love. His heart broke within and bowing to the ground， he cried aloud： “oh， Honorable mother， your kindness breaks my heart！ I will not leave you. Together we will follow the path of twigs， and together we will die！”
Once more he shouldered his burden （how light it seemed now） and hastened down the path， through the shadows and the moonlight， to the little hut in the valley. Beneath the kitchen floor was a walled closet for food， which was covered and hidden from view. There the son hid his mother， supplying her with everything she needed， continually watching and fearing she would be discovered. Time passed， and he was beginning to feel safe when again the governor sent forth heralds10 bearing an unreasonable order， seemingly as a boast of his power. His demand was that his subjects should present him with a rope of ashes.
The entire province trembled with dread. The order must be obeyed yet who in all Shining could make a rope of ashes？ One night， in great distress， the son whispered the news to his hidden mother. “Wait！” she said. “I will think. I will think.” On the second day she told him what to do. “Make rope of twisted straw，” she said. “Then stretch it upon a row of flat stones and burn it on a windless night.” He called the people together and did as she said and when the blaze died down11， there upon the stones， with every twist and fiber showing perfectly， lay a rope of ashes.
The governor was pleased at the wit of the youth and praised greatly， but he demanded to know where he had obtained his wisdom. “Alas！ Alas！” cried the farmer， “the truth must be told！” and with deep bows he related12 his story. The governor listened and then meditated in silence. Finally he lifted his head. “Shining needs more than strength of youth，” he said gravely. “Ah， that I should have forgotten the well-known saying， ‘with the crown of snow， there cometh wisdom！’” That very hour the cruel law was abolished， and custom drifted into13 as far a past that only legends remain.
很久很久以前，大山腳下住着一位穷苦的农夫和他寡居的老母。母子俩有一小块儿田地赖以过活，生活简朴、平静而快乐。 西宁藩（音译）受一位独裁的领主统治。他尽管是武士出身，却异常惧怕看到健康或体力出现一点点衰退的迹象。为此，他颁下一道残酷的命令，严令处死全藩所有的老人。那还是野蛮时代，遗弃老人致死的风俗并非罕见。这可怜的农夫敬爱年老的母亲，可这道命令让他愁肠百结。说到执行领主的敕令，无人敢犹豫不决。于是，在满怀绝望的长吁短叹之后，年轻人只好准备以那时公认最仁慈的死亡方式处置老母亲。
日落时分，一俟收工，农夫便取了一些糙米煮熟晒干，那是穷人家的主食，然后用一块方布包好，和装满水的葫芦一起挂在脖子上，那水清冽甘甜。他随后便背起无助的老母亲，开始了艰难的上山之旅。这条路又长又陡，窄窄的山道被猎户和伐木工踩踏出一条又一条的岔路小径。他们不知在何处迷了路，搞不清方向，但农夫也不理会。走这条路还是那条路，这都无关紧要。他走啊，走啊，漫无目的地往上爬，这座因“弃老”而闻名的山叫作奥巴兹山（音译），他朝那光秃秃的绝顶爬去。
老母亲还不至两眼昏花到觉察不出儿子因着急赶路而在各个小道间胡乱穿行。慈爱的母亲不禁担忧。儿子对山间这么多的羊肠小道并不熟，归途难免遇险。行进途中，她便伸出一只手去折灌木的嫩枝。儿子一边爬，母亲一边悄悄地隔几步就抛下一把枝条。这样，他们身后的小道每隔一段都点缀着一小捆一小捆的枝子。终于到了山顶，年轻人又累又伤心，把母亲轻轻放下，便一声不响收拾了一处舒适的所在给慈母最后一次尽孝。他把掉落的松针收集起来，做成一个软软的垫子，抱起母亲轻轻放在上面。他扶着母亲略驼的肩背，帮她把棉袄裹得更紧了些，随后含泪忍痛跟母亲告别。
母亲对儿子做了最后的嘱托，老人家声音颤抖，饱含无私的舐犊之情。“儿呀，你的眼睛可要亮堂。”她说，“山路凶险。仔细看清楚了，顺着有一捆捆枝子的路走，就能找到那条熟悉的小路下山了。”儿子满眼惊讶，转头去望走过的路，又看看老母亲那双因为帮助心爱的儿子而被划伤、弄脏的手。他的心碎了。之后，他跪倒在地大声哭道：“哦，好妈妈，您的爱让儿子心都碎了！我不会丢下您不管，咱们一起沿着有树枝的路走，就是死也要死在一道！”
儿子再一次背起母亲（似乎现在很轻），沿着小路下山，穿过阴影和月光，回到了山谷里的小茅屋。厨房地板下有一间用来储存食物的封闭地窖，盖住了，不为人见。他把母亲藏在那里，提供她所需的一切，一直小心谨慎，生怕她被人发现。光阴荏苒，就在他满以为风头已过的时候，领主又派传令官发布了一条不可理喻的命令，似乎就是为了耀武扬威。他命令臣民呈交一根由灰烬做成的绳子。
全藩民众都惊惧不已。敕令必须得到执行，可是在西宁藩，谁能做出一根灰烬绳呢？一天夜里，儿子一筹莫展，把这事悄悄告诉了藏身地窖的母亲。“等等！”她说，“让我想想，让我想想。”第二天，她便告诉儿子该如何做。“把稻草拧成绳子，”她说，“然后铺在一排扁平石头上，夜里无风的时候用火烧了。”儿子叫来四邻，按母亲的办法做。火苗熄灭后，扁平石上露出一根灰烬绳，每一处扭结、每一根纤维都看得清清楚楚。
领主对年轻人的才智很满意，赞叹不已，但要他交代怎么想出这么绝妙的法子。“唉，唉，”农夫叫道，“我一定说实话！”他深深鞠了几躬，把事情原原本本讲了出来。领主听完默默思考。最终，他抬起了头。“西宁藩不仅仅需要年轻人的力量。”他嚴肃地说，“唉，我真不该忘了那句有名的谚语：‘头白似雪，智慧自来！’”残酷的法令立即废除，弃老的风俗也自然变成久远的传说。 □
（译者为“《英语世界》杯”翻译大赛获奖者）