@ mikel   类别: 巴别小鱼

（一）

很久很久以前，巴格达城里住着个富有的商人，商人有个仆人。有一天清晨，仆人照例去市集采购。但是和以前都不一样的是，这天清晨他在市集里见到了死神，死神用中怪异的眼光看着他。

仆人吓了个半死，赶紧逃回家。

“主人，”他说，“把最快的马借给我吧，今晚我想远离巴格达。今晚我想赶到远方的伊斯法罕去。”

“但你为什么想逃走呢？”

“因为我在市集见到了死神，他恐怖地瞪着我。”

商人很同情他，于是把马借给了仆人。仆人立马朝着伊斯法罕出发了。

这天下午，商人亲自去了市集，就像他的仆人一样，他也见到了死神。

“死神啊，”他走过去说，“您为什么要那么恐怖地瞪着我的仆人呢？”

“恐怖？”死神答道，“我纯粹是好奇而已。我很惊讶他怎么在这里，离伊斯法罕这么远，今晚我还要在伊斯法罕把他带走呢。”

 （二）

很久很久以前，巴格达城里住着个富有的商人，商人有个仆人。有一天清晨，仆人照例去市集采购。但是和以前都不一样的是，这天清晨他在市集里见到了死神，死神用中怪异的眼光看着他。

仆人吓了个半死，赶紧逃回家。

“主人，”他说，“把最快的马借给我吧，今晚我想远离巴格达。今晚我想赶到远方的伊斯法罕去。”

“但你为什么想逃走呢？”

“因为我在市集见到了死神，他恐怖地瞪着我。”

商人很同情他，于是把马借给了仆人。仆人立马朝着伊斯法罕出发了。

马儿又快又壮，终于不负厚望地在星星升起来的同时把仆人带到了伊斯法罕。仆人开始挨家挨户地寻求庇护。

他对人们说：“我在躲避死神，我需要躲起来。”

人们听到了死神两个字都很害怕，纷纷把门关上了。

三个、四个、五个小时过去了，仆人徒劳地在伊斯法罕的街道上走着，敲着沿途的每一扇门，越走越累。最后，黎明到来前，他来到了卡布姆-达哈宾的家门前。

“今天早上，死神在巴格达的市集里恐怖地瞪着我，所以我逃到了这里。求求你，让我躲一躲吧。”

“可以肯定的是，如果死神在巴格达恐怖地瞪着你，”卡布姆-达哈宾说，“他不会还待在那里，他会跟着你来到了伊斯法罕。现在他一定已经在伊斯法罕的某个地方了，夜就快完结了。”

“那我完蛋了！”仆人哭喊道。

“先别绝望。”卡布姆说，“如果你能活到日出，你就得救了。死神如果没能在今夜带走你，那他永远也带不走你。这是定规。”

“但是我该怎么做？”仆人问道。

“我们去广场，到我商铺里里去。”卡布姆说着，关上家门出发了。

就在这时，死神来到了伊斯法罕城门前。天际已经露出了鱼肚白。

“太阳随时都会升起来，”他想，“我得赶紧了，那仆人是我的。”

他进了城，从伊斯法罕成千上万的气味中搜寻着从巴格达逃来的仆人。很快他找到了仆人的藏身地：卡布姆-达哈宾的商铺。他如箭离弦般向那里冲去。

天际开始升起模糊的光雾，太阳就要重新统治世界了。

死神来到卡布姆商铺前，冲进了门……他简直不敢相信自己的眼睛，出现在眼前的不只是一个仆人，而是五个、七个、十个仆人，全都一模一样！

他瞟了窗子一眼，第一缕阳光已经爬上了白色的窗帘。出了什么事？这里怎么有这么多的仆人？

没时间了。他抓起其中一个仆人，冲回了街上，阳光已经洒满了整个天空。这天，住在广场商铺对面的那个家伙激动地咒骂了一整天。

“我今天早上爬起来的时候看了看窗外，”他说，“猜我看到了什么，一个小偷夹着扇镜子跑出去了。杀千刀的臭流氓啊，镜子商卡布姆-达哈宾这么好的人，怎么也不应该去打扰他！”

（注）

第一个版本应该大家很熟悉了，出自英国作家毛姆的小说《撒马拉相会》 ，人是逃不脱宿命的。如果死亡到来了，我们怎么挣扎都是无用功，只能乖乖地接受这个事实。然而就是一些人想和宿命作斗争，毛主席说，“与天斗，其乐无穷”！后面这篇出自 Obabakoak 。

（附）

The Rich Merchant's Servant

Once upon a time, in the city of Baghdad, there lived a servant who worked for a rich merchant. One day, very early in the morning, the servant went to the market to do the shopping. But that morning was different from other mornings, for he saw Death there in the marketplace and Death looked at him oddly.

Terrified, the servant returned to the merchant's house.

'Master,' he said, 'lend me your fastest horse. Tonight I want to be far from Baghdad. Tonight I want to be in the far city of Isfahan.'

'But why do you wish to flee?'

'Because I saw Death in the marketplace and he gave me a threatening look.'

The merchant took pity on him and lent him the horse, and the servant left in the hope that he would be in Isfahan that night.

The afternoon, the merchant himself went to the marketplace and, as had happened before with the servant, he too saw Death.

'Death,' he said, going over to him, 'what did you mean by giving my servant a threatening look?'

'What threatening look?' replied Death. 'It was a look of pure amazement. I was simply surprised to see him here, so far from Isfahan, for it is tonight in Isfahan that I am to carry your servant off.'

Dayoub, The Rich Merchant's Servant

Once upon a time, in the city of Baghdad, there lived a servant who worked for a rich merchant. One day, very early in the morning, the servant went to the market to do the shopping. But that morning was different from other mornings, for he saw Death there in the marketplace and Death looked at him oddly.

Terrified, the servant returned to the merchant's house.

'Master,' he said, 'lend me your fastest horse. Tonight I want to be far from Baghdad. Tonight I want to be in the far city of Isfahan.'

'But why do you wish to flee?'

'Because I saw Death in the marketplace and he gave me a threatening look.'

The merchant took pity on him and lent him the horse, and the servant left in the hope that he would be in Isfahan that night.

The horse was strong and swift and, as he had hoped, the servant reached Isfahan just as the first stars were coming out. Once there, he went from house to house, begging for shelter.

To any who would listen he said, 'I'm running away from Death and I need somewhere to hide.'

But the people were frightened at the mention of Death and they all shut their doors to him.

For three, four, five hours, the servant walked the streets of Isfahan in vain, knocking at every door and growing wearier by the minute. Shortly before dawn he reached the house of a man called Kalbum Dahabin.

'In the marketplace in Baghdad this morning Death gave me a threatening look and so I have fled the city to seek refuge here. Please, I beg you, give me shelter.'

'You can be sure of one thing, if Death gave you a threatening look in Baghdad,' said Kalbum Dahabin, 'he won't have stayed there. He'll have followed you to Isfahan. He must be within our walls already for the night is nearly over.'

'Then I am lost!' cried the servant.

'Don't despair yet,' replied Kalbum. 'If you can stay alive until sunrise, you'll be saved. If Death has decided to take you tonight and he fails, then he'll never be able to carry you off. That is the law.'

'But what should I do?' asked the servant.

'We'll go straight to my shop in the square,' ordered Kalbum, shutting the door of his house behind him.

Meanwhile Death was approaching the gates of the city of Isfahan. The sky was beginning to grow light.

'Dawn will be here at any moment,' he thought. 'If I don't hurry I'll lose the servant.'

At last he entered Isfahan and sniffed the thousand smells of the city, searching out the servant who had fled Baghdad. He instantly discovered his hiding place: Kalbum Dahabin's shop. He was off like a shot, running in that direction.

A light mist hung over the horizon. The sun was beginning to regain possession of the world.

Death reached Kalbum's shop. He flung the door open and… he couldn't believe his eyes. For in that shop he saw not just one servant, but five, seven, ten, all identical to the one he was looking for.

He gave a sideways glance at the window. The first rays of sun were already filtering through the white curtain. What was going on here? Why were there so many servants in the shop?

He had no time to find out. He grabbed one of the servants in the room and rushed out into the street. Light was flooding the whole sky now. That day the neighbour who lived opposite the shop in the square was cursing the furious.

'When I got out of bed this morning and looked out of the window,' he said, 'I saw a thief running off with a mirror under his arm. A thousand curses on the blackguard. A good man like Kalbum Dahabin, the maker of mirrors, deserves to be left in peace!'

Tags: Obabakoak