First Snow  Jonathan Nicholas
初雪      （乔纳森 尼古拉斯）
He wasn't sure what had awakened him. Perhaps the child had made some small noise in her sleep. But as he peeked from beneath the covers, his gaze was drawn not to the cradle but to the window.
他不清楚是什么吵醒了他，也许是孩子在睡梦中所发出的细小响动声吧。他在被子里向孩子的摇篮望去，目光却被窗子吸引了过去。
It was then that he realized what had sneaked through the shield of his slumbers. It was the sense of falling snow.
这时他明白了，是飘雪的气息溜入了他的梦境。
Quietly, so as not to disturb the child's mother, he rose from the bed and inched toward the cradle. Reaching down, he gently lifted the warm bundle to his shoulder. Then, as he tiptoed f
rom the bedroom, she lifted her head, opened her eyes and - daily dose of magic - smiled up at her dad.
为了不吵醒孩子的母亲，他轻轻的从床上下来，悄悄的走向摇篮，俯下身子，小心的将孩子抱起。他踮着脚从卧室走出来那时，她睁开了眼睛，抬起小脑袋，向她父亲露出醉人的笑颜。
He carried her downstairs, counting the creaks on the way. Together, they settled in at the kitchen table, and the adult in him slipped away. Two children now, they pressed their noses against the glass.
他抱着她下楼，尽量不让楼梯发出嘎吱声。他们一起坐在了厨房的桌旁，成年的感觉已经从他心里溜走。现在是两个孩子，将自己的鼻子贴在了玻璃窗上。
pouringThe light from the street lamp on the corner filtered down through the birch trees, casting a glow as green as a summer memory upon the winter-brown back yard。 From the distance came the endless echo of the stoplight, flashing its ruby message, teasing like a dawn that would not come.
街角的路灯透过桦树的枝叶照在冬季褐的院子里，映射出一片淡淡的绿光，宛若一抹夏日的记忆。远处的红绿灯与之交辉呼应，红宝石般闪烁着，同尚未到来的晨曦一样嘲弄着黑夜。
The flakes were falling thick and hard now, pouring past the window, a waterfall of mystery. Occasionally, one would stick to the glass, as if reluctant to tumble to its fate. Then, slowly, slipping and sliding down the glass, it would melt, its beauty fleeting. Gone.
雪现在下大了，从窗外倾泻而下，像一个神秘的瀑布。偶然一片雪花落在玻璃上，好像不愿接受跌落到地上的命运，慢慢的从玻璃上滑落，融化，它的美转瞬即逝，不见了。
Within an hour, a white tablecloth was spread upon the lawn. And as gray steaks of dawn unraveled along the black seam of the distant hills, father and daughter watched the new day ripple across the neighborhood.
不到一个小时，草坪上已经是厚厚的一层雪，像铺上了一张雪白的桌布。灰白的曙光从远处黑的山脊上铺散开来。父亲和女儿看到了新的一天在邻居家里蔓延开来。
A porch light came on. A car door slammed. A television flickered.
一家走廊的灯亮了。一辆车“砰”的一声关上了门。谁家的电视机在忽明忽暗的闪烁着。
Across the street, a family scurried into gear. But this day was different. Glimpsed through undraped windows as they darted from room to room, the slim figures of the children seemed to grow ever fatter until, finally, the kitchen door flew open and out burst three awesomely bundled objects that set instantly to rolling in the snow.
街对面，有一家人匆匆的开始了新的一天。但是这一天有所不同。这家的窗帘开着，通过窗户看到孩子们从这个房间跑到那个房间，又从那个房间跑到这个房间，瘦小的身影似乎变的肥胖了。最后，厨房的门猛然打开了，冲出来三个包裹的圆滚滚的小东西，在雪地里打滚。
He wondered where they had learned this behavior. Even the littlest one, for whom this must have been the first real snowfall, seemed to know instinctively what to do.
他纳闷他们这是从哪里学来的。就拿最小的那个孩子来说，想必这是他生平第一次真正遇到下雪，但是似乎天生就知道在雪地里该怎么玩。
They rolled in it, they tasted it, they packed it into balls and tossed it at one another. Then, just when he thought they might not know everything, they set about shaping a snowman on the crest of the hill.
他们在雪里打滚，吃雪，团雪球，打雪仗。他想，他们可能就知道这么多玩法了吧，可这时，他们已经开始在山尖上堆雪人了。
By the time the snowman's nose was in place, the neighborhood was fully awake. A car whined in protest, but skidded staunchly out of its driveway. Buses ground forward like Marines, determined to take the hill. And all the while, the baby sat secure and warm in his arms.
孩子们把雪人的鼻子做好那时，周围的邻居全都醒了。一辆汽车引擎轰鸣，但还是滑到了一边。公共汽车则像待命的海军陆战队员一样，决心夺取那座小山。发生这一切的时候，小宝宝一直安逸的，暖暖的呆在他的怀抱里。
He knew, of course, that she wouldn't remember any of this. For her there would be other s
nowfalls to recall. But for him, it was her first. Their first. And the memory would stay, cold and hard, fresh in his thoughts, long after the snowman melted.当然了，
他知道，她不会记得这些的。对宝宝而言，她不会记得这场雪；但对他而言，这场雪是她生命中的初雪，也是他们一起经历的初雪。就算雪人融化了，很久很久以后，这场雪依然会活在他的记忆里，依然寒气逼人，那么生动，那么鲜活。
（王晶 译）

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