My Father's Music

　　我父亲的音乐

　　Wayne Kalyn

　　韦恩·卡林

　　I remember the day Dad first lugged the heavy accordion up our front stoop,taxing his smallframe. He gathered my mother and me in the living room and opened the case as if it were atreasure chest. "Here it is,"he said. "Once you learn to play, it'll stay with you for life."

　　我还记得那天，爸爸豁出瘦小的身躯，第一次把那沉甸甸的手风琴拖上我们家的门廊。他把妈姆和我召到客厅，打开箱子，好像那是个百宝箱似的.“给，”。他说，“你一学会拉它，它就跟你终身做伴。”

　　If my thin smile didn't match his full-fledged grin, it was because I had prayed for a guitar ora piano. It was 1960, and I was glued to my AM radio,listening to Del Shannon and ChubbyChecker. Accordions were nowhere in my hit parade. As Ilooked at the shiny white keys andcream-colored bellows, I could already hear my friends' squeeze box jokes.

　　我淡淡一笑，满不像他那么喜笑颜开，可那是因为裁一直巴望着有一把吉他，或一架钢琴。当时是1960年，我迷上了在调幅广播里收听戴尔·香农和查比·切克的音乐。手风琴在我的流行曲目里根本排不上号。看着那白晃晃的琴键和奶油色的风箱，我都可以听到伙伴们嘲弄这玩意儿的声音。

　　For the next two weeks, the accordion was stored in the hall closet. Then one evening Dadannounced that I would start lessons the following week. In disbelief I shot my eyes towardMom for support. The firm set of her jaw told me I was out of luck.

　　后来的两个礼拜，手风琴一直搁在门厅的壁橱里。有天晚上，爸爸宣布，’下周起我就开始上手风琴课。狐疑中我直向母亲递眼色，求她帮忙。可她紧闭着嘴，就是说我这次倒了霉了。

　　Spending $300 for an accordion and $5 per lesson was out of character for my father. He waspractical always-something he learned growing up on a Pennsylvania farm. Clothes, heat andsometimes even food were scarce.

　　花300元买架手风琴，每上一课还得交五元，这可不合我父亲的性格。他向来都很讲究实际——这是他自小在宾夕法尼亚州的农场学来的。当时穿的，取暖的，有时候连吃的都很少。

　　Before I was born, he and my mother moved into her parents' two-story home in Jersey City, N.J. I grew up there on the second floor; my grandparents lived downstairs. Each weekday Dadmade the three-hour commute to and from Long Island, where he was a supervisor in acomparty that serviced jet engines. Weekends, he tinkered in the cellar, turning scraps ofplywood into a utility cabinet or fixing a broken toy with spare parts. Quiet andshy, he wasnever more comfortable than when at his workbench.

　　我出生前，父母搬进了新泽西州泽西城外公外婆家一楼一底的房子。我就是在那儿的楼上长大的，外公他们住楼下。爸爸每天去长岛上班来回要坐三个小时的车。他在那儿的一家飞机发动机维修公司做监督，周末他就在地窖里东修西补，不是把零星的胶合板拼凑成多用柜，就是找些个零部件修理破玩具。他生性沉静腼腆，只有坐在工作凳上时他才最为自在。

　　Only music carried Dad away from his world of tools and projects. On a Sunday drive, he turnedthe radio on immediately. At red lights, I'd notice his foot tapping in time. He seemed to hangon every note.

　　只有音乐可以使爸爸陶醉，忘却他那个近视工具和活计的天地。星期天只要一开车，他便打开收音机。遇见红灯，就见他的脚及时地轻轻打起拍子。他好像不放过每一个音符。

　　Still, I wasn't prepared when, rummaging in a closet, I found a case that looked to me like atiny guitar's. Opening it, I saw the polished glow of a beautiffil violin. "It's your father's," Mom said. "His parents bought it for him. I guess he got too busy on the farm to ever learn toplay it." I tried to imagine Dad's rough hands on this delicate instrument-and couldn't. .

　　然而，我还是没有料到，又一次翻一个壁橱，竟发现一只盒子，我看像个小吉他盒。打开一看，却是把漂亮的小提琴，光滑锃亮的。“那是你父亲的，”妈妈说，“他父母给他买的。怕是农场上太忙了吧，他压根儿就没顾上学。”我尽量想象爸爸那双粗手在摆弄这把精巧的小提琴——可就是想象不出来。

　　Shortly after, my lessons began with Mr. Zelli at the Allegro Accordion School tucked betweenan old movie theater and a pizza parlor. On my first day, with straps straining my shoulder, Ifelt clumsy in every way. "How did he do?" my father asked when it was over. "Fine for the firstlesson,"said Mr.ZeUi. Dad glowed with hope.

　　不久，我在手风琴速成学校跟泽里先生上起课来了，那个学校夹在一家旧电影院和一家馅饼店之间。第一天，我肩上勒紧了两条皮带，怎么都觉得别扭。“他怎么样?”过后父亲问老师。“第一课嘛，还可以。”泽里先生说。爸爸看有希望，神采奕奕。

　　I was ordered to practice half an hour every day, and every day I tried to get out of it. Myfuture seemed to be outside playing ball, not in the house mastering songs I would soon forget, but my parents hounded me to practice.

　　按规定我每天的练半小时的琴，而我每天都没法躲过去。我看我的前途是在户外打球，不是呆在屋里练很快就会遗忘的曲子，可父母逼着我练。

　　Gradually, to my surprise, I was able to string notes together and coordinate my hands toplay simple songs. Often, after supper, my father would requesta tune or two. As he sat in hiseasy chair, I would fumble through "Lady of Spain" and "Beer Barrel Polka."

　　想不到我渐渐可以把各个音符串起来，两手配合着拉起简单的歌曲了。晚饭后，父亲常常要我拉上一两段曲子。他坐在安乐椅里，我就笨手笨脚地拉完《西班牙女郎》和《啤酒桶波尔卡》

　　"Very nice, better than last week," he'd say. Then I would segue into a med-ley of his favorites, "Red River Valley" and "Home on the Range," and he would drift off to sleep, the newspaperfolded on his lap. I took it as a compliment that he could relax under the spell of my playing.

　　“很好，比上星期强。”他会说。于是我一口气拉下去，把他最喜欢的歌曲《红河谷》和《家在牧场》混在一起，于是他不知不觉地睡去，报纸还摊在膝上。他能在我的演奏感召之下，也轻松一下算是对我的赞赏吧。

　　One July evening I was giving an almost flawless rendition of "Come Back to Sorrento,"and myparents called me to an open window. An elderly neighbor, rarely seen outside her house, wasleaning against our car humming dreamily to the tune. When I finished, she smiled broadly andcalled out, "I remember that song as a child in Italy. Beautiful, just beautiful."

　　有年七月的一天傍晚，我正在拉《重归苏连托》，几乎是无懈可击，父母把我叫到一扇窗口。一个上了年纪的邻居，很少见她出门，这时正依在我家车旁，恍恍惚惚地跟着曲子哼着。我拉完了，她笑眯眯地喊道：“我小时候在意大利就记得这首歌。好听，真好听。”

　　Throughout the summer, Mr. Zelli's lessons grew more difficult. It took me a week and a half tomaster them now. All the while I could hear my buddies outside playing heated games ofstickball. I'd also hear an occasional taunt: "Hey, where's your monkey and cup?

　　整个夏天，泽里先生的课越上越难。现在要花一个半星期才能学会。我一边学琴一边可以听到伙伴们在外面玩棍球玩得好热闹，不时还听到句把损人的话：“喂!你那猴儿罐儿呢?”

　　Such humiliation paled, though, beside the impending fall recital, I would have to play asolo on a local movie theater's stage. I wanted to skip the whole thing. Emotions boiled over inthe car one Sunday afternoon.

　　不过，眼看秋季演奏会就要到来，这么糟践人也就不算个事了。强得耷本地一家电影院上台独奏。我想赖掉这差事。个星期天下午在车上，我们都动了感情，都发火了。

　　"I don't want to play a solo," I said.

　　我不想独奏。”我说。

　　"You have to," replied my father.

　　你就得独奏。”父亲答道。

　　"Why?" I shouted. "Because you didn't get to play your violin when you were a kid? Whyshould I have to play this stupid instrument when you never had to play yours7"Dad pulled thecar over and pointed at me.

　　“为啥?”我吼道，“就因为你小时候没能拉成小提琴?你不拉就行我干吗就非得拉这笨乎乎的玩意儿?爸爸刹住车，面对着我。

　　"Because you can bring people joy. You can touch their hearts. That's a gift I won't let youthrow away." He added softly, "Someday you'll have chance I never had: you'll play beautifulmusic for your family. And you understand why you've worked so hard."

　　“就因为你可以给别人带来欢乐。你可以打动他们的心。，那是给人的一份礼物，我不许你白扔了。”他又轻声说，“总有一天你会有我从来没有的机会：你会给你的妻子儿女演奏美丽动听的音乐。那时候你就会明白你干吗要这么苦练了。”