snjk-
Some wounds never heal-- Jeanette Winterson
英语原文：
The second time the sword went in, I aimed it at the place of the first.
I am weak there─the place where I had been found out before. My weakness was skinned over by your love.
I knew when you healed me that the wound would open again. I knew it like destiny, and at the same time, I knew it as choice.
The love-potion? I never drank it. Did you?
Our story is so simple. I went to bring you back for someone else, and won you for myself. Magic, they all said later, and it was, but not the kind that can be brewed.
We were in Ireland. Was there ever a country so damp? I had to write out my mind to think clearly. I was a morning mist of confusion.
You had a lover. I killed him. It was war and your man was on the losing side. As I killed him, he fatally wounded me; that is, he gave me the wound that only love could repair. Love lost, and the wound would be as bloody as ever. As bloody as now,
bed-soaked and jagged.
I didn"t care about dying. But you took me in out of pity because you didn"t know my name. I told you it was Tantrist, and as Tantrist you loved me.
"What if I was Tristan?" I asked you one day, and I watched you grow pale, and take a dagger. You had every right to kill me.
I turned my throat to you, Adam"s apple twitching slightly, but before I closed my eyes, I smiled.
When I opened them again, you had put down the dagger and you were holding my hand. I felt like a little child, not a hero, not a warrior, not a lover, only a boy in a big bed, the day turning round him, dreamy and slow.
The room was high and blue. Cobalt blue. There was an orange fire. Your eyes were green. Lost in the colours of our love I never forgot them, and now, lying here, where the sheets are brown with my blood, it is blue and orange and green I remember.
A little boy in a big bed.
Where are you?
We said nothing. You sat beside me. You were the strong one. I couldn"t stand up. Holding my hand, and stroking it gently with your finger and thumb, you touched in me another world. Until then, through wounds and wreck, I had been sure of myself.
I was Tristan. Now, my name gone backwards, I went backwards myself, unraveling into strands of feeling. This stranded man.
When it was time for me to sail back to Cornwall, you came out and stood on a narrow rock, and we watched each other so far that only we two knew what was rock or boat or human.
The sea was empty. The sky was shut.
Then King Marke sent me to fetch you to be his wife.
You said you wanted to kill me.
Again I opened my body to you. Again you dropped the blade.
When your servant brought the drink I knew you intended to poison me. Under the cliffs of Cornwall, the King in his boat ready to meet us, I drank the water, because that"s what it was. Your servant had given me water. You drank too, and fell to the floor, and I went to catch you and hold you as the men dropped anchor and the ship lurched. You were in my arms for the first time, and you said my name, "Tristan."
I answered you: "Isolde."
Isolde. The world became a word.
We lived for the night. The torch in your window was my signal. When it was lit, I stayed away. When you extinguished it, I came to you─secret doors, dark corridors, forbidden stairs, brushing aside fear and propriety like cobwebs. I was inside you. You contained me. Together, in bed, we could sleep, we could dream, and if we heard your servant"s mournful cry, we called it a bird or a dog. I never wanted to wake. I had no use for the day. The light was a lie. Only here, the sun killed,
and time"s hands bound, were we free. Imprisoned in each other, we were free.
When my friend Melot set the trap, I think I knew it. I turned to death full face, as I had turned to love with my whole body.?I would let death enter me as you had entered me. You had crept along my blood vessels through the wound, and the blood that circulates returns to the heart. You circulated me, you made me blush like a girl in the hoop of your hands. You were in my arteries and my lymph, you were the colour just under my skin, and if I cut myself, it was you I bled. Red Isolde, alive on my fingers, and always the force of blood pushing you back to my heart.
In the fight when Marke found us, I fought at the door until you escaped. Then I face Melot at last, my friend, my trusted friend, and I held my sword at him, red with blood. As he lifted his sword against me, I threw mine down and ran his through my body, at the bottom of my ribs. The skin, still shy of healing, opened at once.
When I woke, I was here, in my own castle, across the sea, carried and guarded by my servant. He told me he had sent for you, yes surely there was a sail? I could see it swift as love. He climbed into the watchtower, but there was no sail.
I put my hand into the bloody gap at the bottom of my ribs. Her name drips through my fingers: Isolde.
Where are you?
Tristan, I didn"t drink it either. There was no love-potion, only love. It was you I drank.
Tristan, wake up. Don"t die of the wound. Divide the night with me, and die together in the morning.
His eye is pale, his breathing is still. When I first saw him, he was still and pale, and I kissed him into life, though he never knew that was the art I used.
Tristan, the world was made so that we could find each other in it. Already the world is fading, returning to the sea. My pulse ebbs with yours. Death frees us from the torment of parting. I cannot part with you. I am you.
The world is nothing. Love formed it.
The world vanishes without trace.
What is left is love.
中文版：
第二次剑刺来的时候我迎了上去，让它对准第一次的伤口。
那是我的痛处，曾经鲜血淋淋，你用爱包扎了它。
你给我疗伤时我就预感还会受伤，命中注定，我不打算逃了。
爱情魔药吗？我从没喝过。你喝了吗？
我们的故事太简单了，我替别人为你决斗却赢得了你。不可思议，后人都这么说，是呀，可我们本意并非如此。
潮湿的爱尔兰，晨雾迷失了我的心。
我杀了你的情人，战场上我是赢家。我赢了却也受到重创，受了只有爱情才能愈合的伤。失去爱情，伤口就会流血，就像现在一样，锯齿般的伤口，鲜血淋漓，浸湿了床。
我不在乎死，可你出于怜悯收留了我，因为你不知道我的名字。我告诉你我叫坦特里斯，你爱上了坦特里斯。
“假如我是特里斯坦你会怎么样？”我有一天这样问你，你的脸色苍白，拿起了一把匕首。你完全有权利杀我，我迎向匕首，深吸一口气，在闭上眼睛之前我笑了。
等我睁开眼睛时，你已放下匕首握住了我的手。我觉得自己像个孩子，不是英雄，不是勇士，也不是情人，只是躺在大床上的小孩儿，世界围着他转，如梦如幻，悠悠荡荡。
房间很高，蓝色。钴蓝色。有橘黄的炉火，你碧绿的眼睛。爱情的颜色让人目眩神迷无法忘怀，现在，躺在这里，血已把床单浸成褐色，而我满眼却是钴蓝、橘黄、碧绿、一个躺在大床上的小男孩儿。
你在哪里?
沉默。你在我旁边坐下。这会儿你是强者，我双膝无力。你轻轻抚摩我的手，似乎在触摸我的灵魂。在那之前，一回回战役，一次次负伤，都让我更清楚我是谁，我是特里斯坦。现在，我的名字消失了，我自己也消失了，只有一个失魂落魄的男人。
在起锚返回康沃尔时，你出来了，站在一块窄窄的岩石上，我们望着彼此，渐行渐远，远到只有我们才能分辨哪里是岩石哪里是船哪里是人。
海茫茫，天到了尽头。
后来马克王派我来迎你成亲。
你说你要杀死我。
我再一次迎向匕首，你再一次丢下匕首。
你的侍女端来饮料，我知道你想毒死我。康沃尔的峭壁下，马克王在船上等候我们的到来，我一饮而尽，等待命运的安排。侍女给的是水。你喝了却倒下了，我奔过去抱住你，这时水手们落下了锚船倾向一侧，我第一次把你抱在怀里，你唤我的名字：“特里斯坦。”
我应了：“伊索尔德”
伊索尔德。那时起我的世界只有你了。
我们在夜晚才活过来，你窗口的火烛是我的信号，点燃时我藏秘，熄灭时我就来找你——穿过隐秘的门、幽暗的走廊、禁行的楼梯，不顾恐惧和操守，我进入了你，你包容了我。在床上我们可以昏睡可以做梦，侍女的哀哭也只是小鸟和小狗在叫。我从不愿醒来。白天我是死的，阳光不能给我温暖。只有在这里，没有太阳，没有时间，我们才是自由的，囚禁在彼此的身体里，我们自由了。
我的朋友梅洛特设下圈套时，我想我是知道的。我盼望死神，正如我的身体渴望爱情。让死神走近我正如你走近我。你渗入我的伤口循着我的血液回游到我的心脏，你在我的身体里流动，让我在你臂弯中像处子一样赧然羞红，你在我的心跳里，在我的体液里，在我的骨肉里，如果我割开自己，伤口里流出来的是你，只要血还在流，你又会重回我的心里。
那场混战中，马克王发现了我们，我死守住门口让你逃走。之后，我和梅洛特拔剑相向，那是我的朋友，我信任的朋友，我扔下剑，扑向他的剑锋，剑从肋骨下穿入还未愈合的伤口，撕裂了。
我醒来后发现我在这里，隔着大海，在我自己的城堡里，是仆人护卫我来的。他说已派人去接你，海上该有船帆了吧？它该像爱一样疾驰不是吗？仆人爬到了瞭望塔上，海上没有船帆。
我把手伸进伤口里，她的名字从我指间滴落：伊索尔德，你在哪里？
特里斯坦，我也没有喝那东西。没有什么爱情魔药，只有爱，我喝下的是你。
特里斯坦，醒一醒，别死。让我们分享完黑夜，明早再一起死。
他的目光已经空洞，他的呼吸已经停止。我最初看见他的时候，他就是这样平静，苍白。我用吻给他注入生命，他永远不会知道了。
特里斯坦，这世界的存在只是让我们找到彼此，世界正在消失，海潮吞没陆地，我的脉搏随着你一起衰竭，死亡会把我们从分离的折磨中解救出来，我不能和你分开，我就是你。
这世界空无一物，是爱造就了它。
当世界烟消云散。
只有爱还在。
北有云溪-
守望灯塔作者：陈 默字体： 【大 中 小】
奥尔索掉大海里了！消息传来，海事局上下一片震惊。奥尔索是某海湾孤岛上的灯塔员，看守灯塔已经超过十五年了。一天深夜，海湾狂风大作，暴雨肆虐，就在奥尔索推开灯塔大门，准备做例行检查的一刹那，一阵狂暴的海浪扑了过来，把他卷进了波涛汹涌的大海。
灯塔不可一日无人，怎么办？海事局紧急商议之后，决定马上招聘一个新的灯塔员，可半个多月过去了，却没有一个人前来报名。汤姆是负责这次招聘工作的官员，这几天他急火攻心，嘴角燎起了好几个泡。
我需要这份工作
这天上午汤姆正在愁眉不展地苦思对策，一位漂亮的妇女来到面前，自我介绍说，她叫德维佳，今年四十岁，想竞聘灯塔员的岗位。汤姆几乎不相信自己的耳朵，问道：“你是说你想做灯塔员？”
德维佳郑重地点点头：“是的，没错。”
汤姆苦笑一声：“开玩笑吧？你以为是在厨房里烤奶酪？去我家吧，我妻子正好需要一个帮手。”
德维佳很固执：“我需要这份工作。”
汤姆收起了微笑，朝她挥挥手：“对不起，我没时间陪你聊天。”
德维佳转身走了，汤姆又陷入了焦虑之中：这灯塔员的生活也实在艰苦乏味！根据天气变化，白天要悬挂各种颜色的旗帜报道天气情况；傍晚要点亮塔灯，为来往航船指明航向。不说干这个工作，一步不能离开孤岛，单讲从塔底到塔顶那四百多级又高又陡的环形阶梯，一天爬上爬下往返好几次，体力消耗也够人受的。海事局聊起灯塔员这份活儿，没有一个不摇头的，有人甚至说：即使做乞丐也不做灯塔员，可德维佳她图的是什么……
第二天清早，汤姆躺在床上还没起来，就接到一个电话，说德维佳没经同意，一个人擅自乘船去了灯塔！昨天晚上，她点亮塔灯，在灯塔那儿守了整整一夜。
汤姆惊得跳了起来，连忙要了一条船，匆匆赶到了灯塔，看见德维佳正在做早饭，这时她也看见汤姆，笑了笑说：“先生，昨晚大雾，我把灯点上了，过往的船只都向我鸣笛致谢呢……”
汤姆瞪她一眼，打断了她的话：“胡扯！难道你真的不知道，做灯塔员有多危险？”德维佳掠掠还没梳理的金发：“这我都知道，但我更知道你这儿需要人。”
听这话，汤姆心里着实有点儿感动，但他明白，这工作并不适合一个女人。汤姆依旧板着脸：“你知道吗？灯塔员奥尔索就是给狂风暴雨卷进大海的……”
他用意非常明显，想吓唬吓唬德维佳，让她快点儿离开。可德维佳却非常镇定，说她迫切需要这份工作，即使危险也顾不上了。汤姆拗不过她，最后和她谈了一个条件：如果有男人愿意来做灯塔员，她必须马上离开！
德维佳接受了这个条件。
就这样，德维佳住进塔楼，开始了她的灯塔员生活。从此，汤姆多了一份挂念，时常给德维佳打个电话，或是趁给养船过去时，多给她带一些食物，尤其还没忘捎给她一些女人需要的香水或唇膏之类的玩意儿……
该走的应该是你
这天傍晚，德维佳点好灯正打算进塔底的住房，一个中年汉子走了进来。他对德维佳说，他叫马尔斯，一次在海上游玩时，无意中看到了德维佳，竟“一见倾心”，愿意给两倍的报酬，聘请德维佳做他的私人秘书。说着话，马尔斯竟过来拉住了她的手，深情地吻了一下。
德维佳惊恐不安，连退了几步：“你……你这是干什么？”
马尔斯说：“我希望你能接受我的邀请。”
德维佳摇头拒绝：“对不起，我已经做了灯塔员。”
“灯塔员？”马尔斯大笑起来，“难道你要在这个可怕的孤岛过一辈子？行，我把报酬再增加一倍，愿意的话，现在就跟我走！”
说着，他又开始动手动脚。德维佳终于发火了，她愤怒地跑到门边，一下子拉开了大门，指着黑沉沉的大海说：“你再不走，我就把你推下去！”马尔斯终于害怕了，尴尬地走出了德维佳的房间。
第二天早晨，德维佳准备上塔顶悬挂天气旗帜，没想到马尔斯又来了，他把报酬又提高了一倍，可德维佳依旧没动心，弄得马尔斯灰头土脸的。
就在这时，汤姆不知从哪走出来，只见他拍着双手，笑容满面地走了进来：“德维佳，你果然是好样的！”原来马尔斯就是汤姆最近刚招来的新灯塔员，为了考验一下德维佳抵抗诱惑的能力，汤姆故意让马尔斯假扮一个富翁纠缠她……
没想到，汤姆说完这些，德维佳却依然不肯离开孤岛。
汤姆不高兴了：“德维佳，你已经答应过我的条件，可不能反悔啊！”
德维佳笑着摇了摇头：“那是过去。可现在我已经爱上了这儿，谁也别想把我从这儿弄走！”说完，德维佳撇下汤姆和马尔斯，提着旗帜登上了楼梯。等德维佳忙完后下楼，汤姆早走了，只留下了马尔斯一个人。马尔斯涎着脸央求德维佳：“德维佳，我真的求你了，这工作对我也很重要！走吧，汤姆还在船上等你。”
德维佳微笑着说：“我不会走的，该走的是你！”
马尔斯急起来了：“可我已经和汤姆签了合同。”
德维佳开始打扫房间，头也不抬：“我再说一遍，该走的是你！”
马尔斯跺了跺脚，横劲儿上来了：“如果我不走呢？德维佳，这岛上就两个人，孤男寡女的，一个男人想干什么，我想你应该很清楚！”
德维佳没有说话，回过头看了看他。马尔斯以为她害怕了，嘿嘿一笑，朝她走近一步。突然，德维佳猛地站起来，从裤腰上摸出一把锋利的尖刀，丢向空中，只见尖刀在半空划了个雪亮的弧线，刀柄又稳稳落回德维佳掌心。她冷冷一笑：“如果你一定要呆在这儿，我没有权力反对。但你一定给我记住，千万别打什么坏主意，否则，我手上这家伙绝对不会跟你客气！”
马尔斯不禁打了个冷战，马上收住脚步，说：“好，好，你别当真，我只不过跟你开了个玩笑。不过，我提醒你，你要是擅自留下来，汤姆不会给你任何报酬的。”
德维佳耸了耸肩：“我爱上了孤岛，并不介意他的报酬。”
我是为爱而回来的
就这样，马尔斯也在孤岛上住了下来。德维佳仍旧和以前一样，挂旗、点灯，把日子打发得又忙碌又紧张。有空的时候，她就一个人走出房间，沿着塔底的石墙走过去，最后站在灯塔前的大礁石前，朝着神秘而又浩瀚的大海凝望一阵。
马尔斯很快发现了德维佳这个怪异的习惯，心里十分纳闷，决心看个究竟。一天，德维佳又站到了大礁石跟前，马尔斯悄悄跟了过去，竟然发现德维佳眼里泪光闪烁。
马尔斯嘲讽道：“怎么样，害怕了吧？”德维佳回头一笑，说：“没什么，海风吹的。”
马尔斯知道德维佳在说谎，吃晚饭时，马尔斯一直盯着德维佳的眼睛，想看透她心里的秘密。德维佳却显得十分平静，晚饭后收拾完刀叉，轻声哼起了一支古老的爱情歌谣，像是在怀念一段美好的爱情。马尔斯觉得这个神秘而又固执的女人了无情趣，便早早缩进了睡袋……
当他一觉醒来，却听到海上起了大风，通往塔楼顶的门也打开了。马尔斯估计德维佳一定去了塔楼，他一边嘟嘟哝哝，一边费力地爬了上去。当他刚准备进入楼顶，大声喊了一声：“德维佳，你在——”喊声未落，只听一声尖叫，正在塔杆上挂灯的德维佳被狂风吹了下来，坠进了大海。马尔斯吓得魂飞魄散，赶紧给汤姆挂了电话。
次日一早，汤姆就踏上了灯塔，身后还跟着一个陌生人。只见两个人脸色阴沉，看起来都很悲痛。汤姆告诉马尔斯，同他一起来的就是让海浪卷进了大海的奥尔索。那天坠海之后，奥尔索在大海中漂流了七天七夜，被一艘货船救起，经过抢救，奥尔索奇迹般生还。没想到，德维佳却……
在整理德维佳的遗物时，奥尔索看到了妻子写下的最后一页日记：奥尔索离开我了，为爱，也为了他的事业，我必须去灯塔做一个看守，这一辈子再也不离开！
奥尔索边看边流泪，向汤姆要求继续做一名灯塔员： “我是为爱而回来的。德维佳在这儿走了，我要等德维佳，她会回来的，一定会……”
max笔记-
When you love someone you should say so. Life is just a pause through time, all the meaning makes sense only in the moment it occurs. Don"t wait anymore. Don"t tell this story later. - Jeanette Winterson "Llighthousekeeping”
CarieVinne-
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^百度去啊 …………………………