珍珠鳥原文及譯文-馮驥才

珍珠鳥馮驥才真好！朋友送我一對珍珠鳥。放在一個簡易的竹條編成的籠子里，籠內(nèi)還有一卷干草，那是小鳥舒適又溫暖的巢。有人說，這是一種怕人的鳥。我把它掛在窗前。那兒還有一盆異常茂盛的法國吊蘭，我便用吊蘭長長的、串生著小綠葉的垂蔓蒙蓋在鳥籠上，它們就像躲進(jìn)深幽的叢林一樣安全，從中傳出的笛兒般又細(xì)又亮的叫聲，也就格外輕松自在了。陽光從窗外射入，透過這里，吊蘭那些無數(shù)指甲狀的小葉，一半成了黑影，一半被照透，如同碧玉，斑斑駁駁，生意蔥蘢。小鳥的影子就在這中間隱約閃動，看不完整，有時連籠子也看不出，卻見它們可愛的鮮紅小嘴兒從綠葉中伸出來。我很少扒開葉蔓瞧它們，它們便漸漸敢伸出小腦袋瞅瞅我。我們就這樣一點點熟悉了。三個月后，那一團(tuán)愈發(fā)繁茂的綠蔓里邊，發(fā)出一種尖細(xì)又嬌嫩的鳴叫。我猜到，是它們有了雛兒。我呢？決不掀開葉片往里看，連添食加水時也不睜大好奇的眼去驚動它們。過不多久，忽然有一個小腦袋從葉間探出來。更小喲，雛兒！正是這個小家伙！它小，就能輕易地由疏格的籠子鉆出身。瞧，多么像它的母親紅嘴紅腳、灰藍(lán)色的毛，只是后背還沒有生出珍珠似的圓圓的小白點。它好肥，整個身子好像一個蓬松的球兒。起先，這小家伙只在籠子四周活動，隨后就在屋里飛來飛去，一會兒落在柜頂上，一會兒神氣十足地站在書架上，啄著書背上那些大文豪的名字；一會兒把燈繩撞得來回?fù)u動，跟著，跳到畫框上去了。只要大鳥在籠里生氣地叫一聲，它立即飛回籠里去。我不管它，這樣久了，打開窗了，它最多只在窗框上站一會兒，決不飛出去。漸漸它膽子大了，就落在我書桌上。它先是離我較遠(yuǎn)，見我不去傷害它，便一點點挨近，然后蹦到我的杯子上，俯下頭來喝茶，再偏過臉瞧瞧我的反應(yīng)。我只是微微一笑，依舊寫東西，它就放開膽子跑到稿紙上，繞著我的筆尖蹦來蹦去，跳動的小紅爪子在紙上發(fā)出嚓嚓響。我不動聲色地寫，默默享受著這小家伙親近的情意。這樣，它完全放心了，索性用那涂了蠟似的、角質(zhì)的小紅嘴，“嗒嗒”啄我顫動的筆尖。我用手撫一撫它細(xì)膩的絨毛，它也不怕，反而友好地啄兩下我的手指。有一次，它居然跳進(jìn)我的空茶杯里，隔著透明光亮的玻璃瞅我。它不怕我突然把杯口捂住。是的，我不會。白天，它這樣淘氣地陪伴我；天色入暮，它就在父母的再三呼喚聲中，飛向籠子，扭動滾圓的身子，擠開那些綠葉鉆進(jìn)去。有一天，我伏案寫作時，它居然落到我的肩上。我手中的筆不覺停了，生怕驚跑它。呆一會兒，扭頭看，這小家伙竟趴在我的肩頭睡著了，銀灰色的眼瞼蓋住眸子，小紅腳剛好給胸脯上長長的絨毛蓋住。我輕輕抬一抬肩，它沒醒，睡得好熟！還呷呷嘴，難道在做夢？我筆尖一動，流瀉下一時的感受：信賴，往往創(chuàng)造出美好的境界。couldbeclearlyseen,onlytheirscarletbeaksreachingoutfromamongsttheleaves.Iwouldrarelypartthefoliagetowatchthem.But,gradually,theybegantostretchouttheirheadstotakealookatme.Bitbybitwebecameacquaintedwitheachother.ThreemonthslaterIheardasharpyetdelicatepeepfrombehindthelushleaves.Iguessedtheyhadanestling.Itriednottolookatitorfrightenitwithmycuriouseyeswhenfeedingthem.Afewdayslateratinyheadappearedbetweenthestems:thechick!Sothiswasthelittlefellow.Itwassmallenoughtostealbetweenthebars.Howmuchitresembleditsmother:redbeakandfeet,grey-bluefeathers,butasyetwithoutthepearl-likewhitedotsontheback,asplumpasaballoffluff.Tobeginwithitwouldonlyplaynearthecage,andthenitbeganflyingabouttheroomfromthecabinettothebookshelf—whereitboldlypeckedattheillustriousnamesoftheintellectuals—sendingthelightcordswingingfromsidetosideandescapingtothetopofthepictureframe.Yetassoonasthemotherbirdgaveanangrypeep,itwouldquicklyflyhome.Ididnotdisturbit.LaterwhenIopenedthewindowitjustflewasfarasthewindowsill.Graduallyitgainedtheconfidencetolandonmydesk.Firstitkeptitsdistancefromme,thenhoppednearer,thenstooduponmyglassandeventuallylowereditsheadtodrinkmytea.Whenitturnedtolookatme,Ismiledandcontinuedtowrite,anditpluckedupthecouragetorunontomymanuscriptandhoparoundthenibofmypen,makingscratchingnoiseswithitslittleredclaws.Iwroteoninsilence,quietlyenjoyingthelittlething'scompanionship.Thisputitcompletelyatease.Itwouldevenpeckmybobbingnibwithitswaxyredbill.Istrokeditssleekdownandinsteadofbeingafraid,itwouldgivemyfingerstwofriendlypecks.Inthedaytimeitwasmymischievouscompanion;whentheshadesofnightfellitflewbacktothecageasitsparents'repeatedcallsand,withatwistofitsdumpyform,squeezedinbetweenthegreenleaves.OnedayitlandedonmyshoulderwhileIwashunchedoverthedeskwriting.Iautomaticallyhaltedmypen,forfearofscaringitaway.Ifrozeforamoment,andwhenIturnedmyheadthelittlechaphadgonetosleepperchedonmyshoulder,itseyesliddedsilver-greyanditslittleredfeetcoveredbythelongdownonitsbreast.I