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朱俊 译
1)Ageless Dance
“Bob! Bob!” the woman next to me instructed loudly, “Tell her why you wouldn’t marry that one lady last year!”
2)Obediently, the man across the table, Bob, 3)gruffed, “Oh her! That was the damnedest thing! She told me if I wanted to marry her, I couldn’t go to dances anymore! ‘Well,’ I said, I don’t 4)reckon I can do that.’”
Looking at the woman who commanded that he tell the story, Bob reminded her, “June Stewart was her name. You remember June, don’t you, Helen?”
“5)Course I do,” Helen replied.
With pearl-gray hairs carefully 6)slicked back for his night out, Bob earnestly admitted, “See, I’m looking to find me a woman to marry. But she’s 7)gotta like to dance.”
Then, as if revisiting a special memory, a long pause followed before he said softly, “My wife, Louise, died 12 years ago. I’ve been single ever since.” He sighed deeply, and then stated, “I thought I’d finally found someone, you know.” Glancing in the direction of the 8)floor, Bob shook his head and then completed his thought with, “But June there, she didn’t dance and had no intentions of learning. Can you imagine that?”
Helen nodded in amused yet complete understanding.
In 9)Dallas on business, I’d wandered into the dinner club nearest my hotel with hardly a glance at the sign announcing it was “Country 10)Seniors Night.” I looked around. 11)Crimson Crooners, a country band, was setting up. Nearly all the tables were full of seniors, obviously here for the dance.
As the band 12)struck up a lively 13)two-stepper, the couples, holding hands, made their way to the dance floor, 14)snapping their fingers, 15)swaying, 16)swooning and 17)bobbing all the way to their 18)spots.
Not at all 19)inhibited—neither by personality nor by their 20)arthritis, silver hair or deepening laugh lines—the seniors danced. Oh, how they danced!
And were transformed by it. There was something 21)indescribably alive in their dancing, a 22)radiance of sorts. I watched, 23)mesmerized and enchanted by the 24)animation: faces 25)glowed, eyes sparkled, lips eagerly mouthed the words, 26)limber shoulders swayed to the rhythm, quick feet moved to the beat of the music. All movements 27)defied the dancers’ ages. My eyes drifted to Bob, who moments ago I had seen, now dancing with his partner.
The table next to mine grew so crowded that it overflowed, and I was soon included in the 28)throng. Now returning from the dance floor, Helen looked at me and said breathlessly with a grin, “That’s a great tune, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” I replied and then complimented, “You’re really good 29)out there. How long have you and your husband been dancing together?”
Pleased at the praise, she 30)confided, “With this husband, just17 years. My first husband passed away. He and I had well over 30 years of dancing together!”
With a look of satisfaction, she added, “When Clem asked me to marry him, I told him he had to promise me that we would go dancing once a week—no excuses!” From his seat beside her, Clem chuckled and 31)chimed in, “She sure did! But that was easy to promise. I mean, I get to hold my 32)gal in my arms and dance, too. What could be better?”
Looking around the room at these happy and 33)exuberant seniors, I wondered if it was dancing that caused them to “34)gussy up” and brought them out in such great numbers. Or was it the socialization, the fun and connection of being in each other’s company? I decided to ask.
“What’s so special about dancing, Bob?” I asked.
“Great exercise. Great fun,” came his reply, as though it needed no explaining.
“So is swimming, even walking,” I responded.
“No, no!” Bob said 35)defiantly. “Nothing compares to dancing! If it weren’t for dancing, we’d all be sitting home on the couch watching TV. That’s no way to live!”
He pondered for a moment and then added what I think was perhaps one of the most important reasons so many came that night: “Dancing keeps me young. Don’t feel any of my aches and pains when I’m dancing!” With a 36)whimsical expression, Bob 37)professed, “Out there, I’m young again. Just feel more alive. I’m ageless when I’m dancing!” Sounds of agreement circled the table.
The band started to play a 38)twangy tune. Immediately Bob stood up and announced, “Let’s dance, boys!” His eyes scanned the crowd for a partner, but stopped when he noticed a 39)petite woman smartly dressed in black 40)slacks and a white blouse heavily 41)studded with multico-lored 42)rhinestones. She stood near the entrance of the room. At first he looked 43)startled, but that look was quickly replaced by a 44)coy smile. In a 45)hushed tone that held both surprise and delight, he declared, “Well, I’ll be!”
“Look at June!” Helen exclaimed, “She finally came in.”
Bob, the once-gruff 76-year-old “boy”, now stood 46)meekly in front of June, his head lowered, his cowboy hat off, held with both hands. They stood together talking, until June gestured toward the dance floor. With a big grin on his face, Bob 47)escorted his June to the dance floor, 48)draped an arm around her, and slowly and delicately directed her moves to the romantic 49)ballad now being played...
鲍勃！鲍勃！”我身旁的女人大声命令着，“告诉她你去年为什么不愿跟那个女人结婚！”
桌子对面的鲍勃顺从地粗着嗓子回答：“哦，她呀！那真是糟透了！她对我说，要是想跟她结婚的话，我就再也不能去跳舞了！我就告诉她，‘噢，我想我做不到。’”
鲍勃看着这个叫他把事情说出来的女人，提醒道：“她叫琼·斯图尔特。你还记得琼吧？海伦。”
“当然记得。”海伦回答。
那天晚上，鲍勃精心地把他那银灰色的头发往后梳着。他动情地坦言：“你看，我是想给自己找个女人结婚，但她必须喜欢跳舞才行。”
接下来，他好像重温一段特别的回忆一般，静默了好一阵子，才轻声说道：“我的妻子路易丝12年前去世了，从那以后我就一直单身。”他深深叹了一口气，接着说：“我以为自己总会找到另一半的。” 鲍勃的目光投向舞池，摇了摇头，继续吐露心声：“可是那个琼，她不会跳舞，也没打算学。你能想象吗？”
海伦觉得好笑，却也点头表示完全理解。
我出差到达拉斯，信步走进了离我的旅馆最近的一家晚餐俱乐部，没注意到那里有块招牌，上面写着那天是“乡村老人之夜”。我四处张望，看到一支叫“深红吟唱者”的乡村乐队正在做准备。几乎所有的桌子都围着坐满了老年人，他们显然是来这儿跳舞的。
1)Ageless Dance
“Bob! Bob!” the woman next to me instructed loudly, “Tell her why you wouldn’t marry that one lady last year!”
2)Obediently, the man across the table, Bob, 3)gruffed, “Oh her! That was the damnedest thing! She told me if I wanted to marry her, I couldn’t go to dances anymore! ‘Well,’ I said, I don’t 4)reckon I can do that.’”
Looking at the woman who commanded that he tell the story, Bob reminded her, “June Stewart was her name. You remember June, don’t you, Helen?”
“5)Course I do,” Helen replied.
With pearl-gray hairs carefully 6)slicked back for his night out, Bob earnestly admitted, “See, I’m looking to find me a woman to marry. But she’s 7)gotta like to dance.”
Then, as if revisiting a special memory, a long pause followed before he said softly, “My wife, Louise, died 12 years ago. I’ve been single ever since.” He sighed deeply, and then stated, “I thought I’d finally found someone, you know.” Glancing in the direction of the 8)floor, Bob shook his head and then completed his thought with, “But June there, she didn’t dance and had no intentions of learning. Can you imagine that?”
Helen nodded in amused yet complete understanding.
In 9)Dallas on business, I’d wandered into the dinner club nearest my hotel with hardly a glance at the sign announcing it was “Country 10)Seniors Night.” I looked around. 11)Crimson Crooners, a country band, was setting up. Nearly all the tables were full of seniors, obviously here for the dance.
As the band 12)struck up a lively 13)two-stepper, the couples, holding hands, made their way to the dance floor, 14)snapping their fingers, 15)swaying, 16)swooning and 17)bobbing all the way to their 18)spots.
Not at all 19)inhibited—neither by personality nor by their 20)arthritis, silver hair or deepening laugh lines—the seniors danced. Oh, how they danced!
And were transformed by it. There was something 21)indescribably alive in their dancing, a 22)radiance of sorts. I watched, 23)mesmerized and enchanted by the 24)animation: faces 25)glowed, eyes sparkled, lips eagerly mouthed the words, 26)limber shoulders swayed to the rhythm, quick feet moved to the beat of the music. All movements 27)defied the dancers’ ages. My eyes drifted to Bob, who moments ago I had seen, now dancing with his partner.
The table next to mine grew so crowded that it overflowed, and I was soon included in the 28)throng. Now returning from the dance floor, Helen looked at me and said breathlessly with a grin, “That’s a great tune, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” I replied and then complimented, “You’re really good 29)out there. How long have you and your husband been dancing together?”
Pleased at the praise, she 30)confided, “With this husband, just17 years. My first husband passed away. He and I had well over 30 years of dancing together!”
With a look of satisfaction, she added, “When Clem asked me to marry him, I told him he had to promise me that we would go dancing once a week—no excuses!” From his seat beside her, Clem chuckled and 31)chimed in, “She sure did! But that was easy to promise. I mean, I get to hold my 32)gal in my arms and dance, too. What could be better?”
Looking around the room at these happy and 33)exuberant seniors, I wondered if it was dancing that caused them to “34)gussy up” and brought them out in such great numbers. Or was it the socialization, the fun and connection of being in each other’s company? I decided to ask.
“What’s so special about dancing, Bob?” I asked.
“Great exercise. Great fun,” came his reply, as though it needed no explaining.
“So is swimming, even walking,” I responded.
“No, no!” Bob said 35)defiantly. “Nothing compares to dancing! If it weren’t for dancing, we’d all be sitting home on the couch watching TV. That’s no way to live!”
He pondered for a moment and then added what I think was perhaps one of the most important reasons so many came that night: “Dancing keeps me young. Don’t feel any of my aches and pains when I’m dancing!” With a 36)whimsical expression, Bob 37)professed, “Out there, I’m young again. Just feel more alive. I’m ageless when I’m dancing!” Sounds of agreement circled the table.
The band started to play a 38)twangy tune. Immediately Bob stood up and announced, “Let’s dance, boys!” His eyes scanned the crowd for a partner, but stopped when he noticed a 39)petite woman smartly dressed in black 40)slacks and a white blouse heavily 41)studded with multico-lored 42)rhinestones. She stood near the entrance of the room. At first he looked 43)startled, but that look was quickly replaced by a 44)coy smile. In a 45)hushed tone that held both surprise and delight, he declared, “Well, I’ll be!”
“Look at June!” Helen exclaimed, “She finally came in.”
Bob, the once-gruff 76-year-old “boy”, now stood 46)meekly in front of June, his head lowered, his cowboy hat off, held with both hands. They stood together talking, until June gestured toward the dance floor. With a big grin on his face, Bob 47)escorted his June to the dance floor, 48)draped an arm around her, and slowly and delicately directed her moves to the romantic 49)ballad now being played...
鲍勃！鲍勃！”我身旁的女人大声命令着，“告诉她你去年为什么不愿跟那个女人结婚！”
桌子对面的鲍勃顺从地粗着嗓子回答：“哦，她呀！那真是糟透了！她对我说，要是想跟她结婚的话，我就再也不能去跳舞了！我就告诉她，‘噢，我想我做不到。’”
鲍勃看着这个叫他把事情说出来的女人，提醒道：“她叫琼·斯图尔特。你还记得琼吧？海伦。”
“当然记得。”海伦回答。
那天晚上，鲍勃精心地把他那银灰色的头发往后梳着。他动情地坦言：“你看，我是想给自己找个女人结婚，但她必须喜欢跳舞才行。”
接下来，他好像重温一段特别的回忆一般，静默了好一阵子，才轻声说道：“我的妻子路易丝12年前去世了，从那以后我就一直单身。”他深深叹了一口气，接着说：“我以为自己总会找到另一半的。” 鲍勃的目光投向舞池，摇了摇头，继续吐露心声：“可是那个琼，她不会跳舞，也没打算学。你能想象吗？”
海伦觉得好笑，却也点头表示完全理解。
我出差到达拉斯，信步走进了离我的旅馆最近的一家晚餐俱乐部，没注意到那里有块招牌，上面写着那天是“乡村老人之夜”。我四处张望，看到一支叫“深红吟唱者”的乡村乐队正在做准备。几乎所有的桌子都围着坐满了老年人，他们显然是来这儿跳舞的。