获奖者：吴楚（江西师范大学）

原文：

一件小事（节选）

鲁 迅

我从乡下跑到京城里，一转眼已经六年了。其间耳闻目睹的所谓国家大事，算起来也很不少；但在我心里，都不留什么痕迹，倘要我寻出这些事的影响来说，便只是增长了我的坏脾气，——老实说，便是教我一天比一天的看不起人。

但有一件小事，却于我有意义，将我从坏脾气里拖开，使我至今忘记不得。

这是民国六年的冬天，大北风刮得正猛，我因为生计关系，不得不一早在路上走。一路几乎遇不见人，好容易才雇定了一辆人力车，叫他拉到S门去。不一会，北风小了，路上浮尘早已刮净，剩下一条洁白的大道来，车夫也跑得更快。刚近S门，忽而车把上带着一个人，慢慢地倒了。

跌倒的是一个女人，花白头发，衣服都很破烂。伊从马路上突然向车前横截过来；车夫已经让开道，但伊的破棉背心没有上扣，微风吹着，向外展开，所以终于兜着车把。幸而车夫早有点停步，否则伊定要栽一个大筋斗，跌到头破血出了。

伊伏在地上；车夫便也立住脚。我料定这老女人并没有伤，又没有别人看见，便很怪他多事，要自己惹出是非，也误了我的路。

我便对他说，“没有什么的。走你的罢！”

车夫毫不理会，——或者并没有听到，——却放下车子，扶那老女人慢慢起来，搀着臂膊立定，问伊说：

“你怎么啦？”

“我摔坏了。”

我想，我眼见你慢慢倒地，怎么会摔坏呢，装腔作势罢了，这真可憎恶。车夫多事，也正是自讨苦吃，现在你自己想法去。

车夫听了这老女人的话，却毫不踌躇，仍然搀着伊的臂膊，便一步一步的向前走。我有些诧异，忙看前面，是一所巡警分驻所，大风之后，外面也不见人。这车夫扶着那老女人，便正是向那大门走去。

我这时突然感到一种异样的感觉，觉得他满身灰尘的后影，刹时高大了，而且愈走愈大，须仰视才见。而且他对于我，渐渐的又几乎变成一种威压，甚而至于要榨出皮袍下面藏着的“小”来。

译文：

A Small Incident (Excerpt)

Lu Xun

It has been six years since I came to the capital from the country. The so-called affairs of state during that time which I had seen or heard about did amount to many, albeit with no visible trace left in my heart. Speaking of their influence on me, they only exacerbated my ill temper. To be honest, they made me more and more ignorant of others day by day.

One small incident, however, which bore great significance to me, dragged me out of my ill temper and remains forever in my memory.  

It was a winter in the sixth year of the Republic of China, the north wind was blowing violently. For the sake of making a living, I had to go out early when there was barely a person in sight on the road. Finally I managed to hire a rickshaw and told him to go towards the door S. Soon the wind blew less fiercely, while dust on the road was swept clean, leaving a smooth road ahead. So the rickshaw man ran faster. As we were approaching the door S, all of a sudden, a person ran into our rickshaw and gradually fell down.

It was a grey-haired woman, dressed in ragged clothes. She suddenly walked towards us from the roadside. Though the rickshaw man had gone out of her way, her ragged waistcoat was unbuttoned, which stretched out in the wind and caught on the handle bar. Fortunately, the rickshaw man had taken early action, otherwise the old lady would certainly fell down and get seriously hurt.

She was lying there. The rickshaw man stopped. I was sure that she was not hurt and there was no witness then, so I complained of his being so “helpful”. If he had made a fuss, it would have wasted my time as well.

So I said to him: “It’s no big deal. Let’s go.”

Totally regardless of my words, (or simply not having heard it,) he let go of the rickshaw, and helped the woman stand on her feet.

Holding her arm, he asked: “Are you OK?”

“Not well.”

I watched her slowly falling down, how could she possibly get hurt?  “She is pretending!” I thought to myself, “How contemptible it is!” The rickshaw man was being so “helpful” that he was troubling the trouble. I would leave him alone.

    Upon hearing the woman’s words, the rickshaw man made no hesitation. He was still holding her arm and they walked ahead step by step. Feeling a bit confused, I looked ahead. There was a patrolling police station, where nobody was outside in such a violent wind. The two were moving towards that place, surely.

    At that moment, a strange sensation seized me: his dusty figure suddenly became mighty. The further they walked, the mightier it seemed. In the end I had to look up to him. What he meant to me gradually became a pressure, a kind of pressure massive enough to overshadow “the little myself” beneath the garments.