小说概要：《灿烂千阳》以战乱为背景，藉两个女主角的遭遇反映苏联入侵和内战的残酷，对塔利班政权的暴政也大加着墨。全书时空跨越三十年，用细腻的笔触描绘阿富汗传统家族专制的宗法制度――妇女必须苦苦依赖父亲、丈夫，甚至儿子才有社会地位，让读者感同身受地体会乱世阿富汗人的苦难、坚忍、希望和追求真爱的勇气。本文节选自小说第四章。
Chapter 4
Mariam loved having visitors at the kolba注1. The village arbab and his gifts, Bibi jo and her aching hip and endless gossiping, and, of course, Mullah[毛拉]
Faizullah. But there was no one, no one that Mariam longed to see more than Jalil.
The anxiety set in on Tuesday nights. Mariam would sleep poorly, fretting[（使）烦恼] that some business entanglement[纠缠] would prevent Jalil from coming on
Thursday, that she would have to wait a whole other week to see him. On Wednesdays,
she paced outside, around the kolba,tossed[投，掷]
chicken feed absentmindedly into the coop[鸡舍]. She went for aimless walks, picking petals from flowers and batting at the mosquitoes nibbling[细咬]
on her arms. Finally, on Thursdays, all she could do was sit against a wall, eyes glued[牢牢地盯着] to the stream, and wait. If Jalil was running late, a terrible dread[恐惧] filled her bit by bit. Her knees would weaken, and she would have to go somewhere and lie down.
Then Nana would call, “And there he is, your father. In all his glory.”
Mariam would leap to her feet when she spotted him hopping[单脚跳]
stones across the stream, all smiles and hearty waves. Mariam knew that Nana was watching her, gauging[评估]
her reaction, and it always took effort
to stay in the doorway, to wait, to watch him slowly make his way to her, to not run to him. She restrained[抑制] herself, patiently watched him walk through the tall grass, his suit jacket slung[甩] over his shoulder, the breeze lifting his red necktie.
When Jalil entered the clearing, he would throw his jacket on the tandoor[筒状泥炉]and open his arms. Mariam would walk, then finally run, to him, and he would catch her under the arms and toss her up high. Mariam would squeal[尖叫].
Suspended[悬挂] in the air, Mariam would see Jalil’s upturned face below her, his wide, crooked[弯曲的] smile, his widow’s peak[美人角], his cleft[裂开的] chin � a perfect pocket for the tip of her pinkie[（口）小手指] � his teeth, the whitest in a town of rotting molars[臼齿]. She liked his trimmed[修整] mustache, and she liked that no matter
the weather he always wore a suit on his visits � dark brown, his favorite color, with the white triangle of a handkerchief in the breast pocket � and cuff[袖口] links too, and a tie, usually red, which he left loosened. Mariam could see herself too, reflected in the brown of Jalil’s eyes: her hair billowing[扬起], her face blazing with excitement, the sky behind her.
Nana said that one of these days he would miss, that she, Mariam, would slip through his fingers, hit the ground, and break a bone. But Mariam did not believe that Jalil would drop her. She believed that she would
always land safely into
her father’s clean, well-
manicured[修指甲] hands.
They sat outside the
kolba, in the shade, and Nana served them tea. Jalil and she acknowledged each other with an uneasy smile and a nod. Jalil never brought up Nana’s rock throwing or her cursing.
Despite her rants[咆哮] against him when he wasn’t
around, Nana was subdued[柔和的] and mannerly when Jalil visited. Her hair was always washed. She brushed her teeth, wore her best hijab for him. She sat quietly on a chair across from him, hands folded on her lap. She did not look at him directly and never used coarse[粗鄙的]
language around him. When she laughed, she covered her mouth with a fist to hide the bad tooth.
Nana asked about his businesses. And his wives too. When she told him that she had heard, through Bibi jo, that his youngest wife, Nargis, was expecting her third child, Jalil smiled courteously[有礼貌地] and nodded.
“Well. You must be happy,” Nana said. “How many is that for you, now? Ten, is it, mashallah? Ten?”
Jalil said yes, ten.
“Eleven, if you count Mariam, of course.”
Later, after Jalil went home, Mariam and Nana had a small fight about this. Mariam said she had tricked him.
After tea with Nana, Mariam and Jalil always went fishing in the stream. He showed her how to cast her line, how to reel in[卷，绕] the trout[鲑鱼]. He taught her the proper way to gut[取出内脏] a trout, to clean it, to lift the meat off the bone in one motion. He drew pictures for her as they waited for a strike, showed her how to draw an elephant in one stroke without ever lifting the pen off the paper. He taught her rhymes[押韵诗]. Together they sang:
Lili Mi birdbath,
Sitting on a dirt path,
Minnow sat on the rim and drank,
Slipped, and in the water she sank.
Jalil brought clippings[剪下来的东西] from Herat注2’s newspaper, Ittifaq-i Islam, and read from them to her. He was Mariam’s link, her proof that there existed a world at large, beyond the kolba, beyond Gul Daman and Herat too, a world of presidents with unpronounceable[不能发音的] names, and trains and museums and
soccer, and rockets that orbited the earth and landed on the moon, and, every Thursday, Jalil brought a piece of that world with him to the kolba.
He saw her looking at the bulge[凸出部分] in his coat’s
side pocket. “Ah. Of course. Well. Here, then. Without further ado[纷乱]…”
He fished a small box from his pocket and gave it to her. He did this from time to time, bring her small presents. A carnelian[玛瑙] bracelet cuff one time, a choker[贴颈的项链] with lapis lazuli[天青石] beads[珠子] another. That day, Mariam opened the box and found a leaf-shaped pendant[垂饰], tiny coins etched[蚀刻] with moons and stars hanging from it.
“Try it on, Mariam jo.”
She did. “What do you think?”
Jalil beamed, “I think you look like a queen.”
After he left, Nana saw the pendant around
Mariam’s neck.
“Nomad[游牧部落的] jewelry,” she said. “I’ve seen them make it. They melt the coins people throw at them and make jewelry. Let’s see him bring you gold next time, your precious father. Let’s see him.”
When it was time for Jalil to leave, Mariam always
stood in the doorway and watched him exit the
clearing, deflated[泄气] at the thought of the week that stood, like an immense,
immovable object, between her and his next visit. Mariam
always held her breath as she watched him go. She held her breath and, in her head, counted seconds. She
pretended that for each second that she didn’t breathe, God would grant her another day with Jalil.
At night, Mariam lay in her cot[行军床] and wondered what his house in Herat was like. She wondered what it would be like to live with him, to see him every day. She pictured herself handing
him a towel as he shaved, telling him when he nicked[割伤]
himself. She would brew tea for him. She would sew on his missing buttons. They would take walks in Herat together, in the vaulted[拱状的] bazaar[集市] where Jalil said you could find anything you wanted. They would ride in his car, and people would point and say, “There goes Jalil Khan[汗，尊称] with his daughter.” He would show her the famed tree that had a poet buried beneath it.
One day soon, Mariam decided, she would tell Jalil these things. And when he heard, when he saw how much she missed him when he was gone, he would surely take her with him. He would bring her to Herat, to live in his house, just like his other children.
第四章
玛丽雅姆喜欢有客人到泥屋来。她喜欢村长和他的礼物，喜欢亲爱的碧碧和她那发疼的屁股以及无穷无尽的闲话，当然，也喜欢法苏拉赫毛拉。但是，玛丽雅姆最最想见的人是扎里勒。
从星期二晚上，她就开始焦虑了。玛丽雅姆会睡不着，生怕星期四会有什么事情导致扎里勒无法过来；要是那样的话，她就得再等上一整个星期才能见到他了。到了星期三，她会到外面走走，绕着泥屋，心不在焉地将鸡饲料撒到鸡圈里面去。她漫无目的地走动，捡起掉落的花瓣，拍打那些叮咬她手臂的蚊子。星期四终于来临，她唯一能做的事情就是背靠墙壁静静地坐着，眼睛死死地盯着山溪，等待着。如果扎里勒迟迟未到，一阵可怕的张皇会一点一滴地涌上她心头。她的膝盖会变软，需要找个地方躺下来。
然后娜娜会说：“他来了，你的父亲，人模狗样的。”
每当见到他踏着石块穿过溪流，玛丽雅姆就会一下子跳起来，露出灿烂的笑容，兴奋地挥舞着手臂。玛丽雅姆知道娜娜一直在看着她，观察她的反应。可是要忍住不向他奔去，而是留在门口等待着，看着他慢慢向她走过来实在太难了。她约束自己，耐心地看着他走过那片高高的杂草，他的西装衫甩在肩膀上，和风吹拂起他的红领带。
扎里勒走进空地后，将外衣放在烤炉上，张开双臂。玛丽雅姆迎向他，一开始是走过去，然后跑了起来；他会抓住她的腋下，将她高高地抛向空中。玛丽雅姆便高兴地尖叫起来。
悬在半空的玛丽雅姆能够见到扎里勒在她身下扬起的脸，弯弯的微笑、额头的发尖、下巴上因为笑而出现的酒窝，正好可以容下她的指尖，还有他的牙齿――这个地方的人都有蛀牙，他的牙齿算是最白的了。她喜欢他那修剪齐整的胡子，也喜欢他不管天气怎么样，每次来都穿着一套西装――暗棕色的，这是他最喜欢的颜色，胸前的口袋放着折成三角形的白色手帕――打着袖钉，系着领带。领带通常是红色的，系得松松垮垮。玛丽雅姆也能看到自己，她的脸映在扎里勒棕色的眼睛里：她的头发飘扬着，脸上散发着兴奋的光芒，身后晴空一片。
娜娜说迟早有一天他会失手，玛丽雅姆就会从他的手指间滑下来，掉在地上，摔断骨头。但玛丽雅姆相信扎里勒不会让她摔下来。她相信她总是能够安然无恙地落在父亲干干净净、指甲修剪得整整齐齐的手中。
他们坐在泥屋外面的阴凉处，娜娜泡茶给他们喝。扎里勒和她都是生硬地一笑，点点头，就算打过招呼了。娜娜从来不会对扎里勒掷石头或是咒骂不已。
尽管扎里勒不在的时候，娜娜总是骂骂咧咧的，但每当他来访时，她总显得温顺有礼。她把头发洗干净，刷好牙，为他穿上最好的长袍。她安静地坐在他对面的椅子上，双手放在膝盖上。她从不直视他，也不在他身边粗言秽语。笑的时候，她会用手遮住嘴巴，掩饰她的烂牙。
娜娜问起他的近况，也问起他的几位妻子。她告诉扎里勒，亲爱的碧碧说他最年轻的妻子娜尔吉斯快要生第三个小孩了；这时他礼貌地微笑着，点头称是。
“嗯。你肯定很高兴，”娜娜说。“你现在有几个孩子呀？真主啊，十个了，对吧？十个？”
扎里勒说是的，十个。
“十一个，当然，如果你把玛丽雅姆算在内的话。”
后来，扎里勒回家之后，玛丽雅姆和娜娜就这件事小吵了一架。玛丽雅姆说娜娜耍了他。
跟娜娜一起用过茶之后，玛丽雅姆和扎里勒总会再山溪钓鱼。他教她如何抛竿，如何卷动钓鱼丝把鲑鱼收上来。他教她清除鲑鱼内脏的正确方式，怎样把它洗干净，如何一刀就把鱼肉从骨头上起出来。等待鱼儿上钩时，他会给她画画，教她如何笔不离纸、一气呵成地画出一只大象。他还教她唱歌。他们一起唱着：
盆儿盆儿像百合，
安然伫立泥路旁，
鱼儿盆沿来解渴，
掉进水里扑通响。
扎里勒从赫拉特的报纸《伊斯兰教统一报》上剪下新闻，带过来念给她听。他是玛丽雅姆和外界的联系，向她证明在泥屋之外，在古尔德曼和赫拉特之外，还存在着一个广阔的世界，这个世界的领导人有着她不知道该怎么念的名字，这个世界有火车、博物馆和足球，有绕着地球运转和在月球上登陆的火箭。每个星期四，扎里勒带着这个世界的一部分来到泥屋。
他见到她在看着他外套侧边鼓起的口袋。“啊。对了。嗯。给你。不用再惦记
啦……”
他从口袋里掏出一个小盒子递给她。他不时会这样，给她带来一些小玩意。有一次是一个玛瑙手镯，还有一次是一条缀着天青色珠子的短项链。那天，玛丽雅姆打开盒子，看到一件树叶形状的挂饰，上面坠着几个雕刻成月亮和星星的硬币。
“戴上它看看，亲爱的玛丽雅姆。”
她戴上了。“你觉得怎样？”
扎里勒笑逐颜开。“我觉得你像一位
女王。”
他走了之后，娜娜看到玛丽雅姆脖子上的挂坠。
“这是游牧部落的饰品，”她说。“我见过他们怎样制作。他们把人们丢给他们的硬币熔掉做成饰品。他要对你好，干嘛不给你带点金的啊，你这个宝贝父亲。看他下次带什么来。”
每当扎里勒要离开的时候，玛丽雅姆总是站在门口，看着他走出空地；想到她和他下次来访之间的七天就像横亘着一件无法搬动的庞然大物一样，她一下子泄了气。玛丽雅姆看着他离开的时候总是屏住呼吸。她屏住呼吸，心里计算过了多少秒。她假装认为她屏气的时间每多一秒，真主就会让她和扎里勒多待一天。
夜里，玛丽雅姆躺在她的床上，寻思着扎里勒在赫拉特的房子是什么模样。她想象和他生活在一起、每天都见到他会是什么样子。她幻想在他刮胡子的时候递给他一条毛巾；当他刮破皮肤时提醒他。她会给他准备茶水。她会给他缝上脱落的纽扣。他们会一起在赫拉特散步，在那座穹顶市场中散步，扎里勒说那儿有人们想买的一切东西。他们会坐着他的轿车，人们指着说：“那就是扎里勒汗和他的女儿。”他会带她去看那株下面埋着一位诗人的名树。
玛丽雅姆决定了，总有一天要跟扎里勒说说这些事情。当他听到的时候，当他知道他走了之后她有多么想念他的时候，他肯定会带她走。他将会带她去赫拉特，住在他的房子里，就像他别的孩子
一样。
注1：kolba及下文出现的arbab、jo、hijab等均为普什图语，在文中均以斜体表示。
注2：Herat（赫拉特）是阿富汗西北部的一个城市；下文的Gul Daman（古尔德曼）是小说主人公童年所居住的小村。
作者简介：卡勒德・胡赛尼，1965年生于喀布尔，后随父亲逃往美国。胡赛尼毕业于加州大学圣地亚哥分校医学系，现于加州执业，并因其巨大的国际影响力，受邀担任联合国亲善大使。其处女作《追风筝的人》（The Kite Runner，2004）问世后大获成功，因书中角色刻画生动，故事情节震撼感人，蝉联亚马逊排行榜131周之久，全球热销600万册，创下出版奇迹。