The Far and the Near /by Thomas Wolfe
https://www.panthercountry.org/userfiles/232/Classes/11753/The%20Far%20and%20the%20Near.pdf
Hn̄g hām Kīn | 遠和近
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1. Chi̍t-ê cha-bó͘ lâng tùi hóe-chhia ia̍t-chhiú
Tī thih-ki-lō͘ keng-kòe ê chi̍t-ê soaⁿ-phiâⁿ téng ê sió-tìn kau-khu, ū chi̍t-keng chéng-chê ê pe̍h-pang sió chhù, tah-phòe hiáⁿ-ba̍k ê le̍k-sek pah-hio̍h-thang. Chhù ê chi̍t-pêng ū chi̍t-ê hn̂g, hn̂g lāi-bīn ū chéng-chê ê chhài-kó͘, koh ū chi̍t-ê pô-tô-kè, pô-tô 8-goe̍h té tō kàu-hun ah. Chhù ê thâu-chêng ū saⁿ-châng tōa chhiūⁿ-chhiū, joa̍h-thiⁿ sî, tōa koh chheng-khì ê chhiū-iáⁿ jia kàu chhù, iáu chi̍t-pêng ê pian-kài sī bō͘-sēng ê hoe-lî. Kui-ê só͘-chāi ê khì-hun chéng-chê, sok-kiat, koh sù-sī.
Ta̍k-kang ē-tàu nn̄g-tiám thóng, lâi-óng tī nn̄g-ê siâⁿ-chhī tiong-kan ê te̍k-khoài chhia lóng keng-kòe chit-ê só͘-chāi. Hit-sî, tú-chiah tī sió-tìn thêng-kha hioh-chhoán ê tōa hóe-chhia, tng-teh khai-sí ûn-ûn-á hoa̍h kín kha-pō͘, m̄-koh iáu-bōe kàu i he kiaⁿ-lâng sok-tō͘ ê chīn-pōng. I chiām-chiām chìn-ji̍p sī-iá, kō͘ enjín ū-la̍t ê thui-sak sàu hiòng-chêng, tāng-chài ê chhia-siuⁿ kauh tī thih-ki, hoat-chhut kē koh ûn ê lōng-lōng siaⁿ, jiân-āu i siau-sit tī oat-kak hit-tah. Ū sî-chūn, enjín ê ūn-choán ē-tàng ùi tōa-la̍t bū-chhut ê o͘-ian lâi khòaⁿ-chhut, he tī chháu-iá pian-kài múi keh chi̍t-ê sî-chūn tō chhut-hiān, kàu lo̍h-bóe, siáⁿ to thiaⁿ bô, kan-ta chhia-lián cha̍t-pak ê khōng siaⁿ bān-bān siau-sit tī ē-po͘ ài-khùn ê tiām-chēng tiong-kan.
Jī-cha̍p gōa nî lâi, ta̍k-kang tī hóe-chhia chiap-kīn chit-keng chhù ê sî, ūn-choán ki-su tō tân chúi-lê, ta̍k-kang, chi̍t-ē thiaⁿ tio̍h chit-ê sìn-hō, chi̍t-ê cha-bó͘ tō chhut-hiān tī hit-keng sió-chhù āu-bóe ê gîm-chîⁿ-kha, tùi i ia̍t-chhiú. Thâu-khí-seng, yi ū chi̍t-ê gín-á khiú tī yi ê kûn piⁿ, taⁿ hit-ê gín-á í-keng sī tōa-lâng, ta̍k-kang, yi mā hām yin lāu-bú lâi-kàu gîm-chîⁿ-kha, ia̍t-chhiú.
Ūn-choán ki-su ūi thâu-lō͘ í-keng piàn lāu, thâu-mo͘ pe̍h. I sái chit-tâi hóe-chhia-bó, thoa sèⁿ-miā ê tāng-chài óng-lâi tī chit-phiàn thó͘-tē í-keng ū chi̍t-bān pái. I ka-tī ê gín-á mā í-keng tōa-hàn, sêng-ke, í-keng ū sì-pái, i khòaⁿ tio̍h bīn-chêng thih-ki-lō͘ pi-kio̍k ê khó-phà tiám, ná phàu-tôaⁿ án-ne it-ti̍t óa-lâi kàu chông-tio̍h hóe-tiáⁿ-thâu -- chi̍t-chiah chài móa sè-hàn gín-á ê khin-hêng bé-chhia, téng-bīn ū chi̍t-pâi kiaⁿ-hiâⁿ ê gín-á bīn; chi̍t-tâi tâng-kóng-á chhia tiâu tī thih-ki-lō͘, téng-bīn ê lâng kiaⁿ kah bē tín-tāng, ná chhiūⁿ chhâ-thâu ang-á; chi̍t-ê iân thih-ki-lō͘ kiâⁿ ê phòa-nōa iû-bîn, lāu koh chhàu-hīⁿ-lâng, bô thiaⁿ-e chúi-lê siaⁿ ê kéng-kò; chiam-siaⁿ kiò ê lâng-iáⁿ siám-kòe i ê thang-á -- che it-chhè i lóng khòaⁿ kòe mā chai-iáⁿ. I chai-iáⁿ i chit-chióng lâng ē-tit chai ê it-chhè pi-siong, hoaⁿ-hí, hûi-hiám hām lô-tōng; tī i tiong-hō͘ ê ho̍k-bū, i chiâⁿ-chò móa-bīn hong-song, jiâu-hûn, taⁿ, keng-kòe tòe i ê lô-tōng lâi ê sìn-sim, ióng-khì, khiam-pi ê chit-sò͘ só͘ khan-kà, i í-keng piàn lāu, í-keng ū chit-chióng lâng só͘ ū ê úi-tāi kap tì-hūi.
M̄-koh, put-koán i só͘ chai ê hûi-hiám hām pi-kio̍k sī siáⁿ, sió chhù hām cha-bó͘ lâng kō͘ ióng-kám ê chū-iû tōng-chok ǹg i ia̍t-chhiú ê kéng-tì, í-keng kò͘-tēng tī ūn-choán ki-su ê náu-hái, chiâⁿ-chò chi̍t-chióng súi koh tiâu ê mi̍h-kiāⁿ, chi̍t-chióng bē kái-piàn, bē húi-hoāi ê mi̍h-kiāⁿ, mā-sī chi̍t-chióng éng-oán kāng-khoán ê mi̍h-kiāⁿ, m̄-koán ū siáⁿ-mi̍h put-hēng, pi-siong a̍h chhò-gō͘ khó-lêng phah-phòa i ji̍t-siông ê thih ê pan-pió.
Chit-keng sió chhù hām hit nn̄g-ê cha-bó͘ ê kéng-tì, tòa-lâi i só͘ chai ê siōng hui-hoân ê hēng-hok. I bat tī kui chheng-chióng teng-kng ē, kui pah-chióng thiⁿ-khì hā khòaⁿ in. I bat tī tē-bīn chang-sek koh tàng-sng ê chháu-kó-thâu téng, thàng-kòe kôaⁿ-thiⁿ ê phú-sek chha̍k-ba̍k kng-sòaⁿ khòaⁿ tio̍h in, i iū-koh tī sì-goe̍h ín-lâng tio̍h-bê ê le̍k-sek tang-tiong khòaⁿ tio̍h in.
I tùi yin hām i tùi chit-keng sió chhù ê kám-chêng, tō chhin-chhiūⁿ chi̍t-ê lâng tùi ka-tī ê gín-á ê kám-chêng hiah-nī un-jiû, chòe-āu yin ê seng-oa̍h ê tô͘-kéng tī i ê sim khek kah hiah-nī chhiⁿ-chhioh, hō͘ i siūⁿ-kóng i oân-choân liáu-kái yin ê seng-oa̍h, liáu-kái múi-kang ê múi chi̍t tiám-cheng hām múi chi̍t sî-khek, só͘-í i koat-sim ū chi̍t-kang, tán i kiat-sok ho̍k-bū ê nî-chu, i boeh khì chhōe chiah-ê lâng, boeh khì hām yin kóng-ōe, in-ūi yin ê seng-oa̍h í-keng chhim-chhim iûⁿ-ji̍p i ka-tī ê seng-oa̍h.
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1. 一个查某人對火車擛手
Tī 鐵支路經過 ê 一个山坪頂 ê 小鎮郊區, 有一間整齊 ê 白枋小厝, 搭配顯目 ê 綠色百葉窗. 厝 ê 一爿有一个園, 園內面有整齊 ê 菜股, koh 有一个葡萄架, 葡萄 8 月底 tō 夠分 ah. 厝 ê 頭前有三叢大橡樹, 熱天時, 大 koh 清氣 ê 樹影遮到厝, 猶一爿 ê 邊界是茂盛 ê 花籬. 規个所在 ê 氣氛整齊, 束結, koh 四序.
逐工下晝兩點捅, 來往 tī 兩个城市中間 ê 特快車 lóng 經過這个所在. 彼時, 拄才 tī 小鎮停跤歇喘 ê 大火車, tng-teh 開始勻勻仔伐緊跤步, 毋過猶未到伊 he 驚人速度 ê 盡磅. 伊漸漸進入視野, kō͘ enjín 有力 ê 推捒掃向前, 重載 ê 車廂軋 tī 鐵支, 發出低 koh 勻 ê lōng-lōng 聲, 然後伊消失 tī 斡角彼搭. 有時陣, enjín ê 運轉會當 ùi 大力霧出 ê 烏煙來看出, he tī 草野邊界每隔一个時陣 tō 出現, 到落尾, 啥 to 聽無, 干焦車輪實腹 ê khōng 聲慢慢消失 tī 下晡愛睏 ê 恬靜中間.
二十外年來, 逐工 tī 火車接近這間厝 ê 時, 運轉技師 tō 霆水螺, 逐工, 一下聽著這个信號, 一个查某 tō 出現 tī 彼間小厝後尾 ê 砛簷跤, 對伊擛手. 頭起先, 她有一个囡仔搝 tī 她 ê 裙邊, 今彼个囡仔已經是大人, 逐工, 她 mā 和姻老母來到砛簷跤, 擛手.
運轉技師為頭路已經變老, 頭毛白. 伊駛這台火車母, 拖性命 ê 重載往來 tī 這遍土地已經有一萬擺. 伊 ka-tī ê 囡仔 mā 已經大漢, 成家, 已經有四擺, 伊看著面前鐵支路悲劇 ê 可怕點, ná 炮彈 án-ne 一直倚來到傱著火鼎頭 -- 一隻載滿細漢囡仔 ê 輕型馬車, 頂面有一排驚惶 ê 囡仔面; 一台銅管仔車牢 tī 鐵支路, 頂面 ê 人驚 kah 袂振動, ná 像柴頭尪仔; 一个沿鐵支路行 ê 破爛遊民, 老 koh 臭耳聾, 無聽 e 水螺聲 ê 警告; 尖聲叫 ê 人影閃過伊 ê 窗仔 -- 這一切伊 lóng 看過 mā 知影. 伊知影伊這種人會得知 ê 一切悲傷, 歡喜, 危險和勞動; tī 伊忠厚 ê 服務, 伊成做滿面風霜, 皺痕, 今, 經過綴伊 ê 勞動來 ê 信心, 勇氣, 謙卑 ê 質素所牽教, 伊已經變老, 已經有這種人所有 ê 偉大 kap 智慧.
毋過, 不管伊所知 ê 危險和悲劇是啥, 小厝和查某人 kō͘ 勇敢 ê 自由動作 ǹg 伊擛手 ê 景致, 已經固定 tī 運轉技師 ê 腦海, 成做一種媠 koh 牢 ê 物件, 一種袂改變, 袂毀壞 ê 物件, mā 是一種永遠仝款 ê 物件, 毋管有啥物不幸, 悲傷 a̍h 錯誤可能拍破伊日常 ê 鐵 ê 班表.
這間小厝和彼兩个查某 ê 景致, 帶來伊所知 ê 上非凡 ê 幸福. 伊 bat tī 規千種燈光下, 規百種天氣下看 in. 伊 bat tī 地面棕色 koh 凍霜 ê 草稿頭頂, 迵過寒天 ê 殕色鑿目光線看著 in, 伊又閣 tī 四月引人著迷 ê 綠色當中看著 in.
伊對姻和伊對這間小厝 ê 感情, tō 親像一个人對 ka-tī ê 囡仔 ê 感情 hiah-nī 溫柔, 最後姻 ê 生活 ê 圖境 tī 伊 ê 心刻 kah hiah-nī 鮮沢, 予伊想講伊完全了解姻 ê 生活, 了解每工 ê 每一點鐘和每一時刻, 所以伊決心有一工, 等伊結束服務 ê 年資, 伊欲去揣 chiah-ê 人, 欲去和姻講話, 因為姻 ê 生活已經深深溶入伊 ka-tī ê 生活.
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1.
On the outskirts of a little town upon a rise of land that swept back from the railway there was a tidy little cottage of white boards, trimmed vividly with green blinds. To one side of the house there was a garden neatly patterned with plots of growing vegetables, and an arbor for the grapes which ripened late in August. Before the house there were three mighty oaks which sheltered it in their clean and massive shade in summer, and to the other side there was a border of gay flowers. The whole place had an air of tidiness, thrift, and modest comfort.
Every day, a few minutes after two o’clock in the afternoon, the limited express between two cities passed this spot. At that moment the great train, having halted for a breathing-space at the town near by, was beginning to lengthen evenly into its stroke, but it had not yet reached the full drive of its terrific speed. It swung into view deliberately, swept past with a powerful swaying motion of the engine, a low smooth rumble of his heavy cars upon pressed steel, and then it vanished in the cut. For a moment the progress of the engine could be marked by heavy bellowing puffs of smoke that burst at spaced intervals above the edges of the meadow grass, and finally nothing could be heard but the solid clacking tempo of the wheels receding into the drowsy stillness of the afternoon.
Every day for more than twenty years, as the train had approached this house, the engineer had blown on the whistle, and every day, as soon as she heard this signal, a woman had appeared on the back porch of the little house and waved to him. At first she had a small child clinging to her skirts, and now this child had grown to full womanhood, and every day she, too, came with her mother to the porch and waved.
The engineer had grown old and gray in service. He had driven his great train, loaded with its weight of lives, across the land ten thousand times. His own children had grown up, and married, and four times he had seen before him on the tracks the ghastly dot of tragedy converging like a cannon ball to its eclipse of horror at the boiler head—a light spring wagon filled with children, with its clustered row of small stunned faces; a cheap automobile stalled up the tracks, set with the wooden figures of people paralyzed with fear; a battered hobo walking by the rail, too deaf and old to hear the whistle’s warning; and a form flung pas his window with a scream—all this he had seen and known. He had known all the grief, the joy, the peril and the labor such a man could know; he had grown seamed and weathered in his loyal service, and now, schooled by the qualities of faith and courage and humbleness that attended his labor, he had grown old, and had the grandeur and the wisdom these men have.
But no matter what peril or tragedy he had known, the vision of the little house and the women waving to him with a brave free motion of the arm had become fixed in the mind of the engineer as something beautiful and enduring, something beyond all change and ruin, and something that would always be the same, no matter what mishap, grief or error might break the iron schedule of his days.
The sight of this little house and these two women gave him the most extraordinary happiness he had ever known. He had seen them in a thousand lights, a hundred weathers. He had seen them through the harsh light of wintry gray across the brown and frosted stubble of the earth, and he had seen them again in the green luring sorcery of April.
He felt for them and for the little house in which they lived such tenderness as a man might feel for his own children, and at length the picture of their lives was carved so sharply in his heart that he felt that he knew their lives completely, to every hour and moment of the day, and he resolved that one day, when his years of service should be ended, he would go and find these people and speak at last with them whose lives had been so wrought into his own.
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