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May 4th 1948
I quite often look back at the pleasures and pains of youth—love, jealousy, recklessness, vanity—without forgetting their 1)spell but no longer desiring them. While middle-aged ones like music, places, botany, conversation seem to be just as enjoyable as those wilder ones, in which there was usually some potential anguish lying in wait, like a bee in a flower. I hope there may be further surprises 2)in store, and on the whole do not fear the advance into age…
May 5th 1948
Ralph went to the dentist. I have sprained my ankle so can’t go with him but as the years pass I hate being parted from him even for an hour or so. I feel only half a person by myself, with one arm, one leg and half a face.
Warmer, softer, sweeter day: the birds sing very loudly and the 3)pollarded trees on the road to 4)Hungerford station seem to be holding little bunches of 5)greenery in their 6)fists.
November 28th 1960
Last night before dinner I missed Ralph for a while. For the thousandth time I wondered, “Is he all right? Could he perhaps be feeling ill?” Usually after the first panic and wild 7)wobblings on my base, my 8)equilibrium has been restored. This time, however, I felt it was odd that he should be in the library at this cold evening hour. I ran upstairs and found him lying down. No, he was not all right. Going through the kitchen to look at the stove, he had suddenly felt a constriction in the chest. He took a pill and then another, but remained limp and drowsy, wanting no food and unable to face the company. I am, in a 9)spurious way, so armoured against these 10)set-backs that a dreadful 11)unearthly calm settled down on me, partly to make me able to face his dread of my “fussing”. But along with this grey 12)tristesse was the awareness of a huge 13)crater opening, black and menacing. Paralysed in mind and hardly able to talk, I went downstairs and cooked dinner and somehow sketched in a part in the conversation until the meal was over, when I was able to go up and lie beside Ralph.
This moring he swears he is better, but is in no great hurry to get up. We must “greet the unknown” with all possible commonsense, but I am full of doubts which I can’t voice to him.
November 29th 1960
Throughout yesterday I sank slowly into the 14)pit, as it became gradually clear to me that “something or other” did happen in the stove-room
on Sunday night. Ralph was 15)comatose and fighting a desperate 16)rearguard action against admitting himself ill. He becomes furious (frighteningly so, because it is bad for him) if I treat him as such, and I identify myself so completely with him that the difficulty of overriding the line he decided to take was almost 17)unsuperable…
November 30th 1960
But last night was much worse than my fears. I dropped into exhuasted sleep. But soon awoke and listened to Ralph’s struggling breathing for four hours, while the clock snailed round its course. But why describe such agony? We are both alive this morning—that’s all I can say.
Morning calls to Red-beard and Geoff, but I have 18)antagonised him, I see. There is something so 19)futile about him, and I couldn’t bear the snobbish reluctance he showed to get into touch with the 20)cardiologist who unfortunately happens to be a lord. Yet to some extent we depend on him, and I try to 21)choke back my horror that this little 22)mannikin should be relevant to the health and safety of my darling Ralph. I 23)pressed on, screaming silently from every 24)cranny of my brain, until I got him to arrange for the lordly cardiologist to come tomorrow. Geoff seemed to take things more seriously when I described Ralph’s breathing. It seems that he took tow sleeping pills while I dozed last night, one seeming insufficient, and Geoff thought this might have affected his breathing. He has recommended a new sort for tonight. I dashed in to Hungerford to get them. Not availabe. I have ordered them to be brought out by taxi from 25)Newbury, and we have got them now.
Ralph does seem a little better this evening and with more appetite for his supper. He even read more. I went downstairs while he was eating, and listened to
26)Berlioz’s Symphonjie Fantastique on the wirelss without much pleasure. I left Ralph a walking-stick to 27)bang on the floor if he wanted me—I never expected to hear, nor shall I ever forget that dreadful “thump, thump, thump”.
December 1st 1960
Now I am absolutely alone and for ever.
1948年5月4日
我常常回首年轻时的欢乐和苦楚——爱、妒忌、鲁莽、自大——至今我仍没忘记其魔力，但已不再渴慕这些。中年人喜欢聊音乐、房子、园艺，那份盎然兴致不亚于聊起轻狂话题时，但总感觉有种莫名苦恼在蛰伏暗涌，如蜜蜂藏身花丛伺机而动。我希望将来能有更多的惊喜，总之，我希望不再惧怕日渐年老。
1948年5月5日
拉尔夫要去看牙医。我扭伤了脚，所以没法陪他去。但是随着岁月流逝，我越来越不想与他分开，哪怕只是一个小时左右的时间。他不在身边，我就会觉得自己像缺了半边身子，只有一只胳膊、一条腿、半张脸。
今天暖和舒适了些，让人的心情也更加愉快：鸟儿高声歌唱，通往亨格福德火车站的马路两边，树木都被修剪过，看上去树冠似乎只剩下那么一小撮的翠绿。
1960年11月28日
昨晚晚餐前，好一会儿都见不着拉尔夫。“他还好吧？他不会是觉得哪里不舒服吧？”这样都想了一千遍了。通常我会在原地恐慌颤抖一阵子，然后渐渐平静下来。然而这次，都晚上这个时间了，天又冷，他不应该还在书房里呀！我冲上楼发现他躺在地上。不，他情况很不好。之前，他穿过厨房去看看炉子，突然觉得胸口一紧。他吃了一片药，然后再吃一片，还是觉得浑身无力，昏昏欲睡，食欲不振，而且难以忍受周围有人。这一次，我的心反常地死一般镇静，自欺欺人地抗拒拉尔夫病情恶化的事实，他怕我“小题大做”，我的故作镇定也能让自己好好处理这个问题。但是这件忧伤的事情让人不禁想到敞开的巨大墓穴，阴森而恐怖。我惊恐得几乎不能思考，不能说话了，我下楼去煮晚餐，不知怎的，我一直在想自己个这角色要说些什么，吃完饭才没再想，然后上楼去，在拉尔夫身旁躺下。
这天早晨，他发誓说他觉得好多了，但是不急着起床。我们必须用所可能拥有的全部常识来“迎接未知”，但是我对此充满怀疑，却不能告诉他。
1960年11月29日
昨天一整天，我慢慢陷入深渊中，因为我越来越清楚，那个星期天晚上他晕倒在暖炉房时，身体肯定出了“这样或那样的问题”。现在，拉尔夫精神萎靡不振，但仍然死活不肯承认自己病了。如果我像对待一个病人那样对待他，他会大动肝火（很怕他这样，因为生气有损他的健康），而我完全认同，要他下决心跨越这条心理防线很困难，几乎是不能实现的……
1960年11月30日
然而，昨天晚上他的情况比我害怕的还要糟糕。我身心疲惫地沉沉睡去，但是一会儿又惊醒了，我听着拉尔夫艰难地呼吸，听了四个小时，觉得时钟的指针慢得像蜗牛一样。但是为什么要记下此般痛苦呢？毕竟我们一同活过了这天早晨——我只能这么说了。
一大早我叫红胡子和杰夫一起过来，我觉得我自己很反感红胡子。他人品有些问题，我让他与碰巧是贵族的心脏专家联系，他却轻蔑地表示自己不愿意，我真受不了他。但是在某种程度上，我们依赖他的帮助，而一想到这个小矮人与我亲爱的拉尔夫的健康和生命息息相关，我就觉得恐慌。我努力压抑着内心的恐慌，继续劝说，整个脑子都在无声地狂叫着，直到我终于说服他，让他安排这个贵族心脏专家明天到我家来。当我向杰夫描述拉尔夫的呼吸状况时，他似乎更加认真对待。昨晚拉尔夫似乎在我打瞌睡的时候吃了两片安眠药，一片显然药力不够，所以杰夫认为可能这些安眠药影响了他的呼吸。他建议拉尔夫今晚吃另外一种药。我赶紧到亨格福德去买，但是买不到。我已让人立即乘出租车从钮布利拿药来，而现在药已经到我们手上了。
今晚拉尔夫看上去确实好了些，晚饭时胃口也好了点。他甚至多读了一会儿书。我下楼的时候，他正在一边吃饭，一边无甚乐趣地听着收音机里播放的柏辽兹的名曲《幻想交响曲》。我走开时给了拉尔夫一根拐杖，让他在需要我时敲敲地板——我不希望听到那恐怖的“咚咚咚”声，却最终永远忘不了那响声。
1960年12月1日
现在只剩下我一人，孤独终老。
I quite often look back at the pleasures and pains of youth—love, jealousy, recklessness, vanity—without forgetting their 1)spell but no longer desiring them. While middle-aged ones like music, places, botany, conversation seem to be just as enjoyable as those wilder ones, in which there was usually some potential anguish lying in wait, like a bee in a flower. I hope there may be further surprises 2)in store, and on the whole do not fear the advance into age…
May 5th 1948
Ralph went to the dentist. I have sprained my ankle so can’t go with him but as the years pass I hate being parted from him even for an hour or so. I feel only half a person by myself, with one arm, one leg and half a face.
Warmer, softer, sweeter day: the birds sing very loudly and the 3)pollarded trees on the road to 4)Hungerford station seem to be holding little bunches of 5)greenery in their 6)fists.
November 28th 1960
Last night before dinner I missed Ralph for a while. For the thousandth time I wondered, “Is he all right? Could he perhaps be feeling ill?” Usually after the first panic and wild 7)wobblings on my base, my 8)equilibrium has been restored. This time, however, I felt it was odd that he should be in the library at this cold evening hour. I ran upstairs and found him lying down. No, he was not all right. Going through the kitchen to look at the stove, he had suddenly felt a constriction in the chest. He took a pill and then another, but remained limp and drowsy, wanting no food and unable to face the company. I am, in a 9)spurious way, so armoured against these 10)set-backs that a dreadful 11)unearthly calm settled down on me, partly to make me able to face his dread of my “fussing”. But along with this grey 12)tristesse was the awareness of a huge 13)crater opening, black and menacing. Paralysed in mind and hardly able to talk, I went downstairs and cooked dinner and somehow sketched in a part in the conversation until the meal was over, when I was able to go up and lie beside Ralph.
This moring he swears he is better, but is in no great hurry to get up. We must “greet the unknown” with all possible commonsense, but I am full of doubts which I can’t voice to him.
November 29th 1960
Throughout yesterday I sank slowly into the 14)pit, as it became gradually clear to me that “something or other” did happen in the stove-room
on Sunday night. Ralph was 15)comatose and fighting a desperate 16)rearguard action against admitting himself ill. He becomes furious (frighteningly so, because it is bad for him) if I treat him as such, and I identify myself so completely with him that the difficulty of overriding the line he decided to take was almost 17)unsuperable…
November 30th 1960
But last night was much worse than my fears. I dropped into exhuasted sleep. But soon awoke and listened to Ralph’s struggling breathing for four hours, while the clock snailed round its course. But why describe such agony? We are both alive this morning—that’s all I can say.
Morning calls to Red-beard and Geoff, but I have 18)antagonised him, I see. There is something so 19)futile about him, and I couldn’t bear the snobbish reluctance he showed to get into touch with the 20)cardiologist who unfortunately happens to be a lord. Yet to some extent we depend on him, and I try to 21)choke back my horror that this little 22)mannikin should be relevant to the health and safety of my darling Ralph. I 23)pressed on, screaming silently from every 24)cranny of my brain, until I got him to arrange for the lordly cardiologist to come tomorrow. Geoff seemed to take things more seriously when I described Ralph’s breathing. It seems that he took tow sleeping pills while I dozed last night, one seeming insufficient, and Geoff thought this might have affected his breathing. He has recommended a new sort for tonight. I dashed in to Hungerford to get them. Not availabe. I have ordered them to be brought out by taxi from 25)Newbury, and we have got them now.
Ralph does seem a little better this evening and with more appetite for his supper. He even read more. I went downstairs while he was eating, and listened to
26)Berlioz’s Symphonjie Fantastique on the wirelss without much pleasure. I left Ralph a walking-stick to 27)bang on the floor if he wanted me—I never expected to hear, nor shall I ever forget that dreadful “thump, thump, thump”.
December 1st 1960
Now I am absolutely alone and for ever.
1948年5月4日
我常常回首年轻时的欢乐和苦楚——爱、妒忌、鲁莽、自大——至今我仍没忘记其魔力，但已不再渴慕这些。中年人喜欢聊音乐、房子、园艺，那份盎然兴致不亚于聊起轻狂话题时，但总感觉有种莫名苦恼在蛰伏暗涌，如蜜蜂藏身花丛伺机而动。我希望将来能有更多的惊喜，总之，我希望不再惧怕日渐年老。
1948年5月5日
拉尔夫要去看牙医。我扭伤了脚，所以没法陪他去。但是随着岁月流逝，我越来越不想与他分开，哪怕只是一个小时左右的时间。他不在身边，我就会觉得自己像缺了半边身子，只有一只胳膊、一条腿、半张脸。
今天暖和舒适了些，让人的心情也更加愉快：鸟儿高声歌唱，通往亨格福德火车站的马路两边，树木都被修剪过，看上去树冠似乎只剩下那么一小撮的翠绿。
1960年11月28日
昨晚晚餐前，好一会儿都见不着拉尔夫。“他还好吧？他不会是觉得哪里不舒服吧？”这样都想了一千遍了。通常我会在原地恐慌颤抖一阵子，然后渐渐平静下来。然而这次，都晚上这个时间了，天又冷，他不应该还在书房里呀！我冲上楼发现他躺在地上。不，他情况很不好。之前，他穿过厨房去看看炉子，突然觉得胸口一紧。他吃了一片药，然后再吃一片，还是觉得浑身无力，昏昏欲睡，食欲不振，而且难以忍受周围有人。这一次，我的心反常地死一般镇静，自欺欺人地抗拒拉尔夫病情恶化的事实，他怕我“小题大做”，我的故作镇定也能让自己好好处理这个问题。但是这件忧伤的事情让人不禁想到敞开的巨大墓穴，阴森而恐怖。我惊恐得几乎不能思考，不能说话了，我下楼去煮晚餐，不知怎的，我一直在想自己个这角色要说些什么，吃完饭才没再想，然后上楼去，在拉尔夫身旁躺下。
这天早晨，他发誓说他觉得好多了，但是不急着起床。我们必须用所可能拥有的全部常识来“迎接未知”，但是我对此充满怀疑，却不能告诉他。
1960年11月29日
昨天一整天，我慢慢陷入深渊中，因为我越来越清楚，那个星期天晚上他晕倒在暖炉房时，身体肯定出了“这样或那样的问题”。现在，拉尔夫精神萎靡不振，但仍然死活不肯承认自己病了。如果我像对待一个病人那样对待他，他会大动肝火（很怕他这样，因为生气有损他的健康），而我完全认同，要他下决心跨越这条心理防线很困难，几乎是不能实现的……
1960年11月30日
然而，昨天晚上他的情况比我害怕的还要糟糕。我身心疲惫地沉沉睡去，但是一会儿又惊醒了，我听着拉尔夫艰难地呼吸，听了四个小时，觉得时钟的指针慢得像蜗牛一样。但是为什么要记下此般痛苦呢？毕竟我们一同活过了这天早晨——我只能这么说了。
一大早我叫红胡子和杰夫一起过来，我觉得我自己很反感红胡子。他人品有些问题，我让他与碰巧是贵族的心脏专家联系，他却轻蔑地表示自己不愿意，我真受不了他。但是在某种程度上，我们依赖他的帮助，而一想到这个小矮人与我亲爱的拉尔夫的健康和生命息息相关，我就觉得恐慌。我努力压抑着内心的恐慌，继续劝说，整个脑子都在无声地狂叫着，直到我终于说服他，让他安排这个贵族心脏专家明天到我家来。当我向杰夫描述拉尔夫的呼吸状况时，他似乎更加认真对待。昨晚拉尔夫似乎在我打瞌睡的时候吃了两片安眠药，一片显然药力不够，所以杰夫认为可能这些安眠药影响了他的呼吸。他建议拉尔夫今晚吃另外一种药。我赶紧到亨格福德去买，但是买不到。我已让人立即乘出租车从钮布利拿药来，而现在药已经到我们手上了。
今晚拉尔夫看上去确实好了些，晚饭时胃口也好了点。他甚至多读了一会儿书。我下楼的时候，他正在一边吃饭，一边无甚乐趣地听着收音机里播放的柏辽兹的名曲《幻想交响曲》。我走开时给了拉尔夫一根拐杖，让他在需要我时敲敲地板——我不希望听到那恐怖的“咚咚咚”声，却最终永远忘不了那响声。
1960年12月1日
现在只剩下我一人，孤独终老。