STUDY IN CHINA GLOBAL (SCG)作品原文
郭沫若 《菩提树下》
一
我的女人最喜欢养鸡。她的目的并不在研究遗传，并不想、有甚居积，充其量只是想孩子们多吃几个鸡蛋罢了。
因此之故她总是爱养母鸡。每逢母鸡要生蛋的时候，她真是欢喜极了，她要多把些粮食给她，又要替她做窝。有时候一时要做两三个窝的都有。
鸡蛋节省着吃，吃到后来母鸡要孵卵的时候，那是她更操心的时候了。孵卵的母鸡每隔一天要飞出窝来摄取一次饮食的，她要先替她预备好，又要时常留心着不使母鸡在窝里下粪，因为这样是容易使孵卵腐败的原因。还有被孵抱着的孵卵她也要常常把微温的盐水去试验，在水上可以浮起的便是腐败了的，她便要拾取起来，沉下去的便仍使母鸡孵抱。像这样足足要操心三个礼拜，等到鸡卵里面可以听出啾瞅的叫声了，那时候她有两三天是快乐得不能安定的。
我们养鸡养过五六年。鸡雏也不知道孵化过好几次了。但一是孵化了的鸡雏不是被猫鼠衔去，便是吃卷过多得脚气病死了。丑己孵化出的鸡雏绝不曾长成过一次的。
我们又是四处飘流的人，遇着要远徙他方的时候，我们的鸡不能带着同走。在那时我们的鸡不是送人，便是卖给鸡贩子去了。自己养过的鸡怎么也不忍屠杀。所以我们养鸡养了五六年，自己所养的鸡决不曾吃过一次。
我们所养的鸡也并不多，至多不过四五只，我们除把些残菜剩饭给它们外，平常只”干它们去自行渔食罢了。
二
养了五六年的鸡，关于鸡的心理，我也留着了不少的幽凉的记忆。鸡的生活中我觉得很有和人相类似的爱的生活存在着呢。
假如在一群鸡在园子里放着的时候，请把一些食物向鸡群里洒去罢。这鸡群里面假使有一只雄鸡，你可以看它必定要咯咯地呼唤起来，让母鸡去摄取那食物，它自己是决不肯先吃的，这样本是一个很平常的现象。但这个很平常的现象不就有点像。欧湘中世纪的浪漫诗人(troubadour)的崇拜女性吗?
有一次我们养过三只牝鸡，两只雄鸡。这两只雄鸡中只有一只得势，把那三只母鸡都占有了。那不得势的一只，真是孤苦得可怜。得势的一只雄鸡不消说要欺负它，便连那些娥皇女英们也不把它看在眼里。它有时性的冲动发作了的时候。偷觑着自己的情敌不在，便想方设计地去诱惑她们。分明是没有食物的，它也要咯咯地叫，或者去替她们梳理羽毛，但她们总不去睬它。它弄得焦急了，竟有用起暴力来的时候，在那时她们一面遁逃，一面戛着惊呼求救的声音，呼唤她们的大舜皇帝。鲸到大舜皇帝一来，那位背时的先生又拖着尾巴跑了。
——啊，你这幸福的大舜皇帝!你这过于高傲了的董芳(Don Juan)!弥占领着一群女性，使同类多添一位旷夫。
那回是我抱了不平。我把得势的一只雄鸡卖去了。剩下的一位旷夫和三位贞淑的怨女起初还不甚相投，但不久也就成了和睦的夫妇了。
还有一件更显著的事情，要算是牝鸡们的母爱。牝鸡孵化了鸡雏的时候，平常是那么驯善的家禽，立地要变成一些鸷鸟。它们保护着自己的幼儿是一刻不能懈怠的。她们的两只眼睛如像燃着的两团烈火。她们时常要竖着头子向四方倾听。她们全身的神经好像紧张得要断裂的一样。她们就这样加紧的防御。但她们的防御有时还娶变为攻击，不怕你便不怀敌意走近它们，她们也要戛出一种怪的叫声，飞来啄你。摄取饮食的时候，她们自己也决不肯先吃的，只是咯咯地唤着鸡雏。假如有别的同类要来分争，她们不管是雄是雌，一样地总要毫不容情地扑啄。睡眠或者下雨的时候，她们要把自己的鸡雏抱在自己的胸肋下，可怜胸脯上的羽毛要抱来一根也没有存在的时候。像这样的生活，她们要继续两三个月之久，在这时期之内，她们的性的生活不消说是完全消灭了的。
三
啊，今年的成绩真好，我们现在有两只母鸡十六只鸡雏了。
我的女人在二月底从上海渡到福冈来的时候，便养了两匹母鸡：一匹是黄的，一匹是如像鹰隼一样。
我们住在这博多湾上的房子，后园是很宽大的。园子正中有一株高大的菩提对。四月初间我来的时候还没抽芽，树身是赤裸着的，我们不知道它的名字。我们猜它是栗树，又猜它是柿子树，但不久渐渐转青了，不是栗树，也不是柿树。我们问邻近的人，说是菩提树。
在这菩提村成荫的时候，我们的母鸡各个孵化了九只鸡雏。这鸡雏们真是可爱，有葱黄的，有黑的，有淡黑的，有自的，有如鹌鹑一样驳杂的，全身的茸毛如像绒团，一双黑眼如像墨晶，啾啾的叫声真的比山泉的响声还要清脆。
啊，今年的成绩真好，我们有十八只鸡雏，除有一只被猫儿衔去，一只病死了外，剩着的这十六只都平安地长大了起来。现在已经是六月尾上了，鸡雏们的羽毛渐渐长出，也可以辨别雌雄了，我们的这十六只鸡雏想来总不会再被猫儿衔去，不会再病死了罢?鸡雏吃自米过多时，会得自米病，和人的脚气病一样，好端端地便要死去的，但我们现在吃的是麦饭，我们的鸡雏们总不会再得白米病了罢。
——啊，今年的成绩真好。
我的女人把吃剩着的晚饭，在菩提树下撒给鸡群吃的时候，她笑着向我这样说。
鸡雏啾啾地在她脚下争食，互相拥挤，互相践踏，互相剥啄着。
作品译文
Under the Linden Tree
Guo Moruo
(1)
My wife is very keen on raising chickens. She does this not for studying genetics or making a profit out of it, but merely for collecting more eggs for our kids to eat.
Therefore, she always prefers to raise hens. She will be immensely delighted whenever a hen is laying, giving it additional feed, making it a new roost, etc. Sometimes she finishes making two or three roosts at one go.
We consume our eggs sparingly. My wife has to go to a lot more trouble when a hen is sitting. As the brooding hen will fly out of its roost to seek food once every other day, she has to get the feed ready for it beforehand. And she has to be careful not to let the hen heave its droppings in the roost for fear that it should cause the eggs to rot. She puts all the eggs that a hen is sitting on in lukewarm salty water to test them. Those that float are rotten and must be thrown away; those that sink are kept for the hen to continue brood. She will thus busy herself with all that for as long as three weeks until the yeeping sound comes out of the eggs. Then she will be left in a state of great excitement for two or three days.
We have been raising chickens for five or six years, and brooks upon broods of chicks have been hatched. But the baby chicks were either carried off by cats or rats, or died of beriberi caused by eating too much polished rice. None of the chicks hatched by ourselves live until they were full-grown.
We are a family constantly on the move. When we travel to a faraway place, we can’t take our chickens with us. All we do is give them away or sell them to chicken vendors because we don’t have the heart to slaughter the chickens raised by ourselves. We ate none of our own chickens during the five or six years.
We raised only a small number of chickens, four or five at most. Apart from feeding them with the leftovers of the table, we let them out to seek food by themselves.
(2)
Five or six years of chicken raising has left me with a deep impression of how chickens behave. Like humans, chickens also live a life characterized by love.
Take for example a flock of chicken, among them a rooster, put out to feed in a courtyard. If you sprinkle some food onto the ground, you’ll invariably find the rooster start clacking to call all the hens to help themselves. The rooster himself will not eat first. This is no uncommon occurrence among chickens, but doesn’t it border on woman-worship as expressed by the medieval troubadours in their amorous lyrics?
Once we had three hens and two roosters. One rooster, however, held sway and monopolized all the three hens. The other got the worst of it and looked crestfallen. Not only was he bullied by the stronger opponent, he was also snubbed by the three females. Sometimes, driven by sexual impulse, he used every trick to seduce them in the absence of his rival in love. He clacked to call the hens when actually there was no food available. He offered to preen their feathers for them, but they just ignored him. Finally, in desperation, he resorted to the use of force. That sent the three hens scampering in panic and raising a call for help – a call to the all-powerful autocrat. As soon as the autocrat came on the scene, the poor lonely heart fled with the tail between his legs.
O you lucky all-powerful autocrat! O you haughty Don Juan! You took exclusive possession of a group of females; consequently, you have among you one more marriageable male remaining unmarried.
Hence, out of a sense of justice, I sold the domineering rooster. The three hens, at first keeping the lone rooster at arm’s length, soon became his loving mates one after another.
The material love shown by hens is something even more noteworthy. Hens are normally very tame and docile, but when the eggs they have been sitting on are hatched they immediately become as fierce as birds of prey. They spare no efforts to protect their young. With eyes flashing like two fiery balls, they frequently stick their necks high up to find out how things stand. Their nerves were overstrained to the point of collapse. Sometimes they acted on the offensive instead of on the defensive. Even if you approach them without any ill intention, they will squawk and peck you all the same. At feeding time, they never eat first, but cluck to call for their young. And they will mercilessly fly on any intruder, male or female, who attempts to scramble for the feed. At sleeping time or when it rains, they will clutch their young under them so much so that they pitifully end up losing all their breast feathers. They continue to live like this for two or three months. And during this period, they completely abstain from sex.
(3)
Ah, we have so far done quite well this year. We now have two hens and sixteen baby chicks.
My wife began to raise the two hens after she returned from Shanghai to Fukuoka at the end of February. One is yellow and the other looks like a falcon.
Our house on the Katakawa Bay has a very big rear garden with a giant linden tree in its center. When I first came here early last April, the tree, with a bare trunk, had not yet put forth buds, and we didn’t even know it by name. we guessed it to be a chestnut or persimmon tree. Soon afterwards, as it was turning green, I found it to be neither a chestnut nor a persimmon tree. However, my neighbors, upon my inquiry, told me it was a linden tree.
By the time when the linden tree was leafy and made shade, the two hens had each hatched nine baby chicks. The baby chicks were just lovely. Some were yellowish, some black, some grey, some white, and some motley like quails. They were fluffy like balls of cotton wool. Their eyes were jet black. Their pippings were even more pleasant to the ear than the bubbling of a mountain spring.
Ah, we have done quite well this year. Of the original eighteen baby chicks raised by us, one was carried off by a cat and another died of some disease. The remaining sixteen, however, are growing fine. It is late June now. They have been gradually feathering out and we can already tell males and females apart. Hope they will never carried off by cats or die of some disease. Healthy young chicks, if they eat too much polished rice, may die of a disease similar to beriberi to which humans are liable. Fortunately, instead of polished rice, we have presently taken to eating oats. So our baby chicks will no longer die of eating too much polished rice.
“Ah, we’ve done quite well this year,” exclaimed my wife beamingly as she was throwing the leftovers of our supper onto the ground under the linden tree for the chicks to eat.
The yeeping chicks scrambled for the feed like anything, pushing and shoving each other, treading on and pecking each other.
