窗

Two men， both seriously ill， occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain[排干] the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the rooms only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end[連續(xù)地]. They spoke of their wives and families， their homes， their jobs， their involvement in the military service[兵役]， where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up， he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened[使生動(dòng)] by all the activities and colors of the outside world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake， the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape， and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite[雅致的] detail， the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque[優(yōu)美的] scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band， he could see it in his minds eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly， an alien thought entered his head： “Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything？ It didnt seem fair.” As the thought fermented[發(fā)酵]， the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights， his envy eroded[腐蝕] into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood[沉思] and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window-and that thought now controlled his life.

Late one night， as he lay staring at the ceiling， the man by the window began to cough. He was choking[使窒息] on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly-lit room as the struggling man by the window groped[摸索] for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room， he never moved， never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes， the coughing and choking stopped， along with the sound of breathing. Now， there was only silence-deathly silence.

The following morning， the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window， she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away-no words， no fuss[大驚小怪]. As soon as it seemed appropriate[合適的]， the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable， she left him alone.

Slowly， painfully， he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. Finally， he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained[拉緊] to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

醫(yī)院的同一間病房里住著兩個(gè)病重的男人。其中一個(gè)男人每天有一小時(shí)的時(shí)間能在床上坐起身子，以便排出肺臟里的積水。他的病床緊靠著房間唯一的窗戶。而另一個(gè)男人則要一直平躺在床上。

兩個(gè)男人會(huì)連續(xù)聊上好幾個(gè)小時(shí)。他們聊自己的妻子和家庭，房子和工作，也會(huì)談?wù)摲鄣慕?jīng)歷以及去過(guò)哪里度假。每天下午，當(dāng)病床靠窗的男人可以坐起身時(shí)，他就會(huì)向房友描述自己透過(guò)窗戶看到的東西，消磨時(shí)光。

另一張病床的男人期盼著那一小時(shí)的到來(lái)，外面世界的各種活動(dòng)和多姿多彩能拓寬他的世界，讓它生動(dòng)起來(lái)。那個(gè)男人說(shuō)，窗戶能俯瞰到一個(gè)有著漂亮小湖的公園。水鴨和天鵝在水里嬉戲，小孩們則操控他們的模型飛艇在湖面航行。情侶們把臂徜徉于彩虹般色彩斑斕的鮮花叢中。巨大的老樹(shù)為景致增添姿色，遠(yuǎn)處還能看見(jiàn)城市地平線的美好景象。窗邊的男人用細(xì)膩雅致的細(xì)節(jié)描繪這一切的時(shí)候，房間另一頭的男人總會(huì)閉上眼睛，想象這一獨(dú)特美景。

在一個(gè)溫暖的下午，窗邊的男人描述了一隊(duì)路過(guò)的游行隊(duì)伍。盡管另外一個(gè)男人沒(méi)有聽(tīng)見(jiàn)樂(lè)隊(duì)的奏樂(lè)聲，但聽(tīng)著窗邊男人細(xì)致的描繪，他能通過(guò)內(nèi)心的眼睛看到這一切。突然間，一個(gè)奇怪的想法躍進(jìn)他的腦海：“為什么他能幸福地看見(jiàn)所有景象，而我卻看不到這些東西？這真不公平?！边@個(gè)想法慢慢發(fā)酵，起初男人感到羞恥，然而日子一天天過(guò)去，他錯(cuò)過(guò)了更多景色，他的嫉妒逐漸腐化成怨恨，脾氣也越來(lái)越壞。他開(kāi)始冥思苦想，無(wú)法入眠。他應(yīng)該睡在窗戶邊——這個(gè)想法占據(jù)了他的生活。

一天深夜，他躺在床上望著天花板，窗邊的男人咳了起來(lái)。肺部的積水讓他無(wú)法喘氣。另一個(gè)男人在昏暗的病房里看著窗邊的男人掙扎著摸索求助按鈕。他在房間的另一頭仔細(xì)聽(tīng)著，一動(dòng)不動(dòng)，沒(méi)有按下自己的按鈕讓護(hù)士趕過(guò)來(lái)。不到五分鐘，咳嗽聲和喘氣聲停止了，呼吸聲也沒(méi)有了，只剩下沉默——死一般的寂靜。

第二天早上，上日班的護(hù)士給他們送洗澡水。她看到窗邊男人那毫無(wú)知覺(jué)的軀體，傷心地叫來(lái)一名男護(hù)理員將尸體搬走——沒(méi)有任何言語(yǔ)，沒(méi)有大驚小怪。男人看準(zhǔn)時(shí)機(jī)詢問(wèn)自己能否轉(zhuǎn)到靠窗的床位。護(hù)士很樂(lè)意為其換位，在確認(rèn)他舒適地躺下后，便讓他獨(dú)自呆著。

慢慢地，他吃力地用手肘支起身子準(zhǔn)備看第一眼。他終于能享受親眼去看的快樂(lè)了。他全身緊繃，慢慢地轉(zhuǎn)身望向床邊的窗戶。窗戶正對(duì)著一面空白的墻壁。