臘葉腊叶

燈下看雁門集，忽然翻出一片壓乾的楓葉來。

灯下看雁门集，忽然翻出一片压干的枫叶来。

Reading the Yanmen Ji by lamplight, I suddenly came upon a pressed maple leaf.

這使我記起去年的深秋。繁霜夜降，木葉多半凋零，庭前的一株小小的楓樹也變成紅色了。我曾繞樹徘徊，細看葉片的顏色，當他靑蔥的時候是從沒有這麽注意的。他也並非全樹通紅，最多的是淺絳，有幾片則在緋紅地上，還帶着幾團濃綠。一片獨有一點蛀孔，鑲着烏黑的花邊，在紅、黃和綠的斑駁中，明眸似的向人凝視。我自念：這是病葉呵！便將他摘了下來，夾在剛纔買到的雁門集裏。大概是願使這將墜的被蝕而斑斕的顏色，暫得保存，不卽與羣葉一同飄散罷。

这使我记起去年的深秋。繁霜夜降，木叶多半凋零，庭前的一株小小的枫树也变成红色了。我曾绕树徘徊，细看叶片的颜色，当他青葱的时候是从没有这么注意的。他也并非全树通红，最多的是浅绛，有几片则在绯红地上，还带着几团浓绿。一片独有一点蛀孔，镶着乌黑的花边，在红、黄和绿的斑驳中，明眸似的向人凝视。我自念：这是病叶呵！便将他摘了下来，夹在刚才买到的雁门集里。大概是愿使这将坠的被蚀而斑斓的颜色，暂得保存，不即与群叶一同飘散罢。

It reminded me of late autumn last year. Heavy frost fell at night, most of the leaves on the trees withered and dropped, and the little maple in front of the courtyard turned red too. I walked round and round it, looking closely at the colours of its leaves, which I had never noticed so carefully when they were green. Not the whole tree was red. Most of the leaves were a pale crimson, and a few, on a ground of scarlet, still had patches of deep green. One leaf had a single wormhole edged with black, and among the mottling of red, yellow and green it gazed out at you like a bright eye. I thought to myself: this is a sick leaf. So I picked it and slipped it into the Yanmen Ji I had just bought. I suppose I wanted to keep, for a while, these mottled colours of a leaf that had been eaten and was about to fall, so that it would not be scattered at once with all the others.

但今夜他卻黃蠟似的躺在我的眼前，那眸子也不復似去年一般灼灼。假使再過幾年，舊時的顏色在我記憶中消去，怕連我也不知道他何以夾在書裏面的原因了，將墜的病葉的斑斕，似乎也只能在極短時中相對，更何況是蔥鬱的呢。看看窗外，很能耐寒的樹木也早經禿盡了；楓樹更何消說得。當深秋時，想來也許有和這去年的模樣相似的病葉的罷，但可惜我今年竟沒有賞玩秋樹的餘閒。

但今夜他却黄蜡似的躺在我的眼前，那眸子也不复似去年一般灼灼。假使再过几年，旧时的颜色在我记忆中消去，怕连我也不知道他何以夹在书里面的原因了，将坠的病叶的斑斓，似乎也只能在极短时中相对，更何况是葱郁的呢。看看窗外，很能耐寒的树木也早经秃尽了；枫树更何消说得。当深秋时，想来也许有和这去年的模样相似的病叶的罢，但可惜我今年竟没有赏玩秋树的余闲。

But tonight it lies before me like yellow wax, and its eye no longer shines as it did last year. In a few more years, when its old colours have faded from my memory, I am afraid even I will not know why it was put in the book. The mottled beauty of a sick leaf about to fall, it seems, can only be faced for the briefest time, let alone the lush green of a living one. Looking out of the window, I see that even the hardiest trees have long been stripped bare, to say nothing of the maple. In late autumn there may well have been sick leaves like last year's one, but unfortunately this year I had no leisure to enjoy the autumn trees.