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甄春亮／译
接到她的电话时，已是分手三个多月后。
那是个秋夜，他正在出差的旅途上。 夜半时分，火车停靠在一个不知名的小站上。车厢里静悄悄的，只有某个上铺偶尔传出几声鼾声。两辆售货小车在月台上慢条斯理地走着，车上的灯泡晃动着，无精打采地发着昏黄的光。
他吸了口烟，想起了最近在传媒上的一个新名词：“飘一代”。提出这个词，他知道只是传媒的一个新炒作；真正使他震撼的是对这个概念的阐述，竟与他的处境如此吻合。这些年来，身体在飘泊，感情也在漂泊，久了，人也越来越冷漠了。
正想着，她的电话来了。电话的那头人声嘈杂，与这边的寂静是两个世界，他看到手机显示的是一个陌生的区号，于是问她在哪，她说厦门。他心里一震，思绪纷乱。而后，她说她皮肤更白了，不再吸烟了；她说她每晚穿着吊带背心逛街，无忧无虑；她说又有几个男孩子在追她，应付不暇。她语调欢快，好像全忘了分手时的不快：那时，她歇斯底里地哭泣，大声说着绝情、怨恨的话。
他淡淡地，有一句没一句地应着，始终无法收拢心神。
挂了电话，他想起了那个月夜。黑黑的屋子。她坐在床上。他拥着她。边看着电视，边聊着。或许是因为电视里的内容吧，她说如果有一天我们分手了，我不会回家，我会继续飘泊。说的时候，她脸上带着笑。他不知道怎么回答，但他相信她会那么做。果然，她现在又飘到了厦门，她曾在那儿生活过两年。
他和她的相遇，也是在各自漂泊的途中。在一起的半年多，他们比一般的恋人更缱绻，虽然分多聚少。最后分手的原因，他难以说清。或许，是因为不安定的生活，使彼此都潜藏了一分难以安定的心吧。
烟熄了，火车缓缓离开站台。管它下一站到哪呢，他想。回过身来，他爬到铺位上睡下。
He received her phone call three months after they had broken off.
It was an autumn night. He was traveling on an official errand. At midnight the train pulled into an unknown small station. In the quiet sleeping- car only someone gave a snore by fits and starts from an upper-berth. On the platform slowly moved two refreshment trolleys, the lamps of which swayed monotonously, sending out dim, yellowish glow.
Drawing in the smoke of his burning cigarette, he remembered a new word frequently used by mass media: the wandering generation. He knew they coined it simply to attract public attention. But what really shocked him was that it perfectly defined his present way of life. These years he had been wandering from place to place with a vagrant heart. It had lasted for such a long time that he became more and more indifferent.
She called while he was meditating. The noise of the other end sharply contrasted with the quietness here in the car. He felt that she and he were living in two worlds. Seeing a strange area code in his mobile phone, he asked where she was. She said she was in Xiamen. Astonished, he had a confuse train of thought. Then she said she had quit smoking and her complexion had become fairer. She said she, dressed in a halter top, roamed in the street every evening, carefree and easy but she felt it rather difficult to deal with a couple of young men who were courting her. She spoke in a merry voice as if she had completely forgotten her displeasure when they broke off: At that moment she wept hysterically and out of spite she cried that she hated him.
Half-Zheartedly he listened and answered her questions, but from beginning to end he distracted his mind from their talk.
He hung up and remembered that moonlit night. In that dark room she sat in bed and he hugged her as they chatted and watched television. Perhaps moved by the plot of the film, she said with a smile that if they separated some day, she wouldn’t go home and she would continue to wander in the country. He did not know what to say to her but he believed she would do what she said. Now she really wandered to Xiamen, a place where she had stay for two years before.
They met when each was wandering about in the country. In half a year they were lovers more passionate than others, even though they seldom lived together. He couldn’t make out why they ended in breaking off. Perhaps their unstable life could hardly set their minds at rest.
His cigarette went out. The train slowly pulled out of the platform. He thought he didn’t care where to go next. He turned round, climbed onto the berth and fell asleep.
接到她的电话时，已是分手三个多月后。
那是个秋夜，他正在出差的旅途上。 夜半时分，火车停靠在一个不知名的小站上。车厢里静悄悄的，只有某个上铺偶尔传出几声鼾声。两辆售货小车在月台上慢条斯理地走着，车上的灯泡晃动着，无精打采地发着昏黄的光。
他吸了口烟，想起了最近在传媒上的一个新名词：“飘一代”。提出这个词，他知道只是传媒的一个新炒作；真正使他震撼的是对这个概念的阐述，竟与他的处境如此吻合。这些年来，身体在飘泊，感情也在漂泊，久了，人也越来越冷漠了。
正想着，她的电话来了。电话的那头人声嘈杂，与这边的寂静是两个世界，他看到手机显示的是一个陌生的区号，于是问她在哪，她说厦门。他心里一震，思绪纷乱。而后，她说她皮肤更白了，不再吸烟了；她说她每晚穿着吊带背心逛街，无忧无虑；她说又有几个男孩子在追她，应付不暇。她语调欢快，好像全忘了分手时的不快：那时，她歇斯底里地哭泣，大声说着绝情、怨恨的话。
他淡淡地，有一句没一句地应着，始终无法收拢心神。
挂了电话，他想起了那个月夜。黑黑的屋子。她坐在床上。他拥着她。边看着电视，边聊着。或许是因为电视里的内容吧，她说如果有一天我们分手了，我不会回家，我会继续飘泊。说的时候，她脸上带着笑。他不知道怎么回答，但他相信她会那么做。果然，她现在又飘到了厦门，她曾在那儿生活过两年。
他和她的相遇，也是在各自漂泊的途中。在一起的半年多，他们比一般的恋人更缱绻，虽然分多聚少。最后分手的原因，他难以说清。或许，是因为不安定的生活，使彼此都潜藏了一分难以安定的心吧。
烟熄了，火车缓缓离开站台。管它下一站到哪呢，他想。回过身来，他爬到铺位上睡下。
He received her phone call three months after they had broken off.
It was an autumn night. He was traveling on an official errand. At midnight the train pulled into an unknown small station. In the quiet sleeping- car only someone gave a snore by fits and starts from an upper-berth. On the platform slowly moved two refreshment trolleys, the lamps of which swayed monotonously, sending out dim, yellowish glow.
Drawing in the smoke of his burning cigarette, he remembered a new word frequently used by mass media: the wandering generation. He knew they coined it simply to attract public attention. But what really shocked him was that it perfectly defined his present way of life. These years he had been wandering from place to place with a vagrant heart. It had lasted for such a long time that he became more and more indifferent.
She called while he was meditating. The noise of the other end sharply contrasted with the quietness here in the car. He felt that she and he were living in two worlds. Seeing a strange area code in his mobile phone, he asked where she was. She said she was in Xiamen. Astonished, he had a confuse train of thought. Then she said she had quit smoking and her complexion had become fairer. She said she, dressed in a halter top, roamed in the street every evening, carefree and easy but she felt it rather difficult to deal with a couple of young men who were courting her. She spoke in a merry voice as if she had completely forgotten her displeasure when they broke off: At that moment she wept hysterically and out of spite she cried that she hated him.
Half-Zheartedly he listened and answered her questions, but from beginning to end he distracted his mind from their talk.
He hung up and remembered that moonlit night. In that dark room she sat in bed and he hugged her as they chatted and watched television. Perhaps moved by the plot of the film, she said with a smile that if they separated some day, she wouldn’t go home and she would continue to wander in the country. He did not know what to say to her but he believed she would do what she said. Now she really wandered to Xiamen, a place where she had stay for two years before.
They met when each was wandering about in the country. In half a year they were lovers more passionate than others, even though they seldom lived together. He couldn’t make out why they ended in breaking off. Perhaps their unstable life could hardly set their minds at rest.
His cigarette went out. The train slowly pulled out of the platform. He thought he didn’t care where to go next. He turned round, climbed onto the berth and fell asleep.