冰与火之歌中英文版在线阅读（冰与火之歌双语阅读28）

冰与火之歌中英文版在线阅读（冰与火之歌双语阅读28）“Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?” he heard his own voice saying small and far away. And his father’s voice replied to him. “That is the only time a man can be brave.”【…He saw the bones of a thousand other dreamers impaled upon their points. He was desperately afraid.现在轮到你了，Bran 乌鸦在催促他，选择吧： 要么飞翔，要么死亡。死神尖叫着，迎向他。Bran张开双臂飞了起来。】

【读你所爱，呵护你的心灵；掌握英语，打开你的第三只眼】

【…他看见成千上万其他梦想家的尸骨被钉在这些冰柱上。他害怕极了。

“一个人在害怕的时候，还能勇敢吗？”他又听到自己的说话声，声音微弱而遥远。

他父亲的声音回答了他，“只有在这个时候，人才能够勇敢起来。”

现在轮到你了，Bran 乌鸦在催促他，选择吧： 要么飞翔，要么死亡。

死神尖叫着，迎向他。

Bran张开双臂飞了起来。】

【…He saw the bones of a thousand other dreamers impaled upon their points. He was desperately afraid.

“Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?” he heard his own voice saying small and far away. And his father’s voice replied to him. “That is the only time a man can be brave.”

Now Bran the crow urged. Choose. Fly or die.

Death reached for him screaming.

Bran spread his arms and flew. 】

【本节导读】

在《小王子》一书中，一只狐狸告诉了小王子一个秘密：“一个人只有用心灵才能够看得真切，最重要的东西是眼睛看不到的。” 【It is only with the heart that one can see rightly what is essential is invisible to the eye.】

有人告诉我，“我不是狐狸，所以我不会听狐狸的话。”的确有道理，我们这一代人多数是没有童话（英语其实叫做fairy tales，不是中文的童话）或不相信童话的人，所以不会把童话当一回事。

而魔幻（其实 英语叫做Fantasy 意思是人用思想或精神想象或创造不可能的事物的能力，不是中文的魔幻）也许是我们成人找到自己精神和灵魂的倒数第二个机会（最后一个机会是我们濒死之前）。

Bran 在他昏迷时，在与自己的灵魂对话时，找到了自己的第三只眼，因为乌鸦告诉他，要么飞翔，要么死亡。

如果你能找到自己的第三只眼，请告诉我，我还会告诉你一个秘密。

【刘博士中文译文】

他觉得自己就一直这样往下掉啊，掉啊，似乎有好多年了。

起飞吧，一个声音在黑暗中低语道，但Bran不知道该怎么飞，于是他只能往下掉。

Luwin博士曾经用粘土做了一个小男孩，把他烤得又硬又脆，再给他穿上Bran的衣服，然后从屋顶上把它给扔了下去。Bran还记得那个粘土男孩摔得粉碎的情景。“可我是绝对不会掉下去的，” 他一边说着，一边往下掉，。

地面离他太遥远了，他的四周是盘旋的灰色迷雾，他几乎无法透过迷雾看到地面，但他能感觉到自己往下掉得有多快，他也知道下面会有什么在等着他。即便是在梦里，你也不可能掉个没完没了的。他知道，他会在摔落在地面上之前的那一瞬间醒过来的。梦总是会在你即将摔在地上的那一刻醒来的。

如果你没有醒来呢？那个声音问他。

地面离他更近了，虽说依旧很遥远，有上千里那么远，但还是比之前要更近了。他在黑暗之中觉得冷飕飕的。没有太阳，没有星星，只有底下的地面朝他迎面扑来要把他撞个粉碎，还有灰色的迷雾和低语的声音。他想哭。

不要哭。起飞吧。

“我不会飞，”Bran说 “我不会，我不会!”

你怎么知道你不会飞？你试过了吗？

那声音又尖又细。Bran环顾四周，想知道它是从哪里发出来的。一只乌鸦正在盘旋着和他一起下坠，就在他正好够不着的地方，跟着他一起往下掉。“救救我吧，”他说道。

我正在想办法呢，乌鸦回答道。对了，你有玉米吗？

黑暗在他的四周旋转，让他头晕目眩。 Bran把手伸进口袋。当他把手抽出来的时候，金色的玉米粒从他的手指间掉落在空中。那些玉米粒也和他一起往下掉。

乌鸦在他的手上落了下来，开始吃东西。

“你是一只真的乌鸦吗？”Bran问道。

你真的是在往下掉吗？乌鸦反问道。

“这只不过是个梦而已，”Bran 说。

是吗？乌鸦问他。

“等我摔在地上的时候，我就会醒过来的。”Bran对这只鸟说。

等你摔在地上的时候，你就会摔死的。乌鸦一边说，一边又开始吃起了玉米。

Bran低头看去。他现在可以看到群山了，山顶上白雪皑皑，河流像一条条银线在黑暗的树林里穿行。Bran闭上眼睛哭了起来。

这样一点都不管用，乌鸦说。我给你说过，办法就是飞起来，而不是哭鼻子。这又有什么难的？我不就正在飞吗。乌鸦飞到空中，用翅膀拍打着Bran的手。

“你是有翅膀的，”Bran说。

也许你也有翅膀。

Bran用手在肩膀的上上下下摸索着，寻找他的羽毛。

乌鸦说，翅膀有各种各样的。

Brand打量着自己的胳膊，自己的腿。他现在那么的瘦，只剩下一层皮紧紧包在他的骨头上。他以前一直这么瘦吗？他使劲回想着。这时，一张脸从灰蒙蒙的迷雾中向他游了过来，闪闪发光，是金色的光。“我为了爱情所做的事情，”那张脸说道。

Bran尖叫起来。

乌鸦又飞向空中，呱呱地叫着。别想这个，乌鸦对他尖声说道。忘掉它，你现在不需要这个，把它放下，把它放下。乌鸦又落在Bran的肩膀上，开始啄他，那张发光的金色脸庞消失了。

Bran往下掉的速度更快了。当他朝着地面俯冲下去的时候，他四周的灰色迷雾开始咆哮大作。

“你对我做了些什么呀？”他问乌鸦，他满是泪水。

我在教你如何飞翔。

“我不会飞！”

你现在就飞得很好。

“我是在往下掉啊！”

所有的飞翔一开始的时候都是往下掉的。乌鸦说，你往下看。

“我害怕……”

往下看！

Bran低头看去，感觉自己吓得五脏六腑都变成了水一般。地面正向他迎面冲过来。整个世界在他的身子底下展开来，那是一片由白色、棕色和绿色组成的画卷。他一切都能看得如此清晰，有那么一刻他都忘记了害怕。他能够看到整个疆域，以及疆域里的每一个人。

他看见Winterfell城了，就像是老鹰看见的那样，从上面看去，高高的塔楼又矮又短，城堡的城墙只不过是泥土中的线条罢了。他看见Luwin博士站在阳台上，正通过一根打磨过的铜管在观察着天空，还一边在书上做着笔记一边皱起了眉头。他看见了他的哥哥Robb，现在哥哥比他记忆中高了许多，也强壮了许多，他的手里正拿着真正的铁剑在院子里练习着搏击。他还看见了Hodor，就是那个身材巨大却头脑简单的马厩男孩。Hodor正在把一个铁砧搬到Mikken的铸剑坊去，他轻松地就把铁砧扛到了肩上，就像是一般人举起一捆干草那样轻松。在众神树林的中间，那棵巨大的白色守护树似乎正看着它落在黑色池塘中的倒影沉思着，树叶在冷风中沙沙作响。当守护树感到了Bran那注视的目光时，它把眼睛从那一潭静静的池水中抬起，会意地望着Bran。

Bran往东看去，他看见一艘帆船正疾驶在Bite海湾的水面上。他看见母亲正独自坐在一间船舱里，正打量着她面前桌子上的一把血迹斑斑的匕首；帆船的船夫们划着桨，而Rodrik爵士则正倚靠在栏杆上，他的身体随着帆船一起摇摆，起伏。在他们正前方，一场暴风雨即将来临，那是一团巨大的乌云正伴着闪电在咆哮，但不知怎么的，他们却看不见。

他往南看去，他看见了巨大的三江河那蓝色和绿色的水流在奔腾。他看见父亲正在向国王求情，他的脸上刻着悲伤。他看见Sansa在夜晚伴着哭声入睡，他看见Arya一言不发地看着姐姐，并将她的秘密深藏在心底。在她们的四周有影子包围着她们，其中一个影子黑如炭灰，他有着一张可怕的猎犬一般的脸。而另一个影子身着像太阳一样明亮的铠甲，金灿灿的美丽极了。在那两人的头顶上还隐约可见一个身穿石头铠甲的巨人，可是当他掀开目镜的时候，里面除了黑暗和浓浓的黑血之外什么也没有。

Bran抬起眼睛，他能清楚地看见狭长海对面的一切，能看见自由城邦，绿油油的Dothraki草原海，以及更远的地方，能看见坐落在群山之下的Vaes Dothrak 都城，能看见翡翠海中那传说中的陆地，能看见阴影之地附近的Asshai港，还能看见龙在日出时分开始惊醒。

最后，他朝北望去。他看见长墙像蓝色水晶一般闪亮，他的同父异母哥哥Jon独自睡在一张冰冷的床上，当他所有温暖的记忆都离他远去的时候，他的皮肤开始变得苍白而坚实。Bran望向长墙的外面，穿过那银装素裹的无尽森林，穿过那冰冻的河岸和巨大的蓝白色冰河，还有那寸草不生渺无人烟的死亡平原。他就这样一直望向北方、北方、再北方，直到他看见世界尽头那一片光的帷幕。他又穿过光的帷幕。他发现他正深深地凝视着寒冬的心脏。他大叫起来，他害怕极了，他的泪水在脸颊上是那样滚烫。

现在你知道了。乌鸦栖息在他的肩膀上低语道。现在你知道了，为什么你必须要活着。

“为什么？”Bran问，他不理解，他还在往下掉，往下掉。

因为冬天就要到了。

Bran看着他肩膀上的乌鸦，乌鸦也在看着他。这只乌鸦有三只眼睛，那第三只眼睛里满是一种可怕的预知。Bran又低头往下看。现在他的身下只有雪、寒冷和死亡，那是一片冰冻的荒原，荒原上那如同锯齿般尖利的蓝白色冰针正在等着他呢。他们像长矛一样朝他飞来。他看见成千上万其他梦想家的尸骨被钉在这些冰柱上。他害怕极了。

“一个人在害怕的时候，还能勇敢吗？”他又听到自己的说话声，声音微弱而遥远。

他父亲的声音回答了他，“只有在这个时候，人才能够勇敢起来。”

现在轮到你了，Bran 乌鸦在催促他，选择吧： 要么飞翔，要么死亡。

死神尖叫着，迎向他。

Bran张开双臂飞了起来。

一双看不见的翅膀让他全身充满了风，把他向上拉去。可怕的冰针在他身下逐渐远去。头顶上天空打开了。Bran扶摇而上。这可比爬墙要棒多啦。没有什么比这种感觉更棒的啦。世界在他的身下变得渺小。

“我飞起来啦！”他高兴地叫喊着。

我看见了，三只眼的乌鸦说道。它又飞到了空中，然后用翅膀拍打着他的脸，让他飞翔的速度慢了下来，让他什么也看不见。乌鸦的翅膀尖击打着他的脸颊，他开始从空中往下掉。乌鸦的喙使劲地啄着他，Bran感到在他的额头上，就在两只眼睛中间的地方，有一阵刺骨的疼痛。

“你在干嘛？”他尖叫起来。

乌鸦松开了嘴，朝他发出一声尖叫，一声害怕的尖叫；就在这时，盘旋在他周围的灰色迷雾抖动了一下，接着就像是一面纱一样被撕开了，他看见，那乌鸦其实是一个女人，一个留着黑色长发的女仆人。他认识这个女仆，他在哪儿见过她，在Winterfell，对，是在那儿见过。现在他记起她来了，接着，他又意识到他现在就在Winterfell，在某个冰冷的塔楼楼顶上一个房间的张床上。那个黑发女人手里的一盆水砰的一声摔在了地上，女仆一边跑下台阶，一边大喊道：“他醒过来了，他醒过来了，他醒过来了。”

Bran用手摸了摸他的额头上两眼之间的地方。乌鸦啄过他的地方依旧是火辣辣的，但那里什么也没有，没有血，也没有伤口。他现在感觉又虚弱又头晕。他想起身下床，但他的身体什么动静也没有。

这时，他的床边有了些动静，然后有什么东西轻轻地落在他了的腿上。他什么也没有感觉到。一双黄色的眼睛正凝视着他，目光像太阳一样闪亮。窗户是开着的，房间里冷飕飕的，但是那只狼身上发出的热量包围着他，仿佛他正躺在一个滚烫的浴盆里一般。是他的狼崽子，Bran 想起来了，也许只能说，曾经是他的狼崽子？他现在已经长得太大了。Bran伸出手，想去抚摸他，他的手颤抖着像是一片树叶。

当他的哥哥Robb气喘吁吁地一路跑上塔楼台阶，冲进屋子里的时候，巨狼正用舌头舔着Bran的脸。Bran平静地抬起头来。“他的名字叫Summer （夏天），”他说道。

【英语原文】

Chapter 17 Bran

It seemed as though he had been falling for years.

Fly a voice whispered in the darkness but Bran did not know how to fly so all he could do was fall.

Maester Luwin made a little boy of clay baked him till he was hard and brittle dressed him in Bran’s clothes and flung him off a roof. Bran remembered the way he shattered. “But I never fall ” he said falling.

The ground was so far below him he could barely make it out through the grey mists that whirled around him but he could feel how fast he was falling and he knew what was waiting for him down there. Even in dreams you could not fall forever. He would wake up in the instant before he hit the ground he knew. You always woke up in the instant before you hit the ground.

And if you don’t? the voice asked.

The ground was closer now still far far away a thousand miles away but closer than it had been. It was cold here in the darkness. There was no sun no stars only the ground below coming up to smash him and the grey mists and the whispering voice. He wanted to cry.

Not cry. Fly.

“I can’t fly ” Bran said. “I can’t I can’t.”

How do you know? Have you ever tried?

The voice was high and thin. Bran looked around to see where it was coming from. A crow was spiraling down with him just out of reach following him as he fell. “Help me ” he said.

I’m trying the crow replied. Say got any corn?

Bran reached into his pocket as the darkness spun dizzily around him. When he pulled his hand out golden kernels slid from between his fingers into the air. They fell with him.

The crow landed on his hand and began to eat.

“Are you really a crow?” Bran asked.

Are you really falling? the crow asked back.

“It’s just a dream ” Bran said.

Is it? asked the crow.

“I’ll wake up when I hit the ground ” Bran told the bird.

You’ll die when you hit the ground the crow said. It went back to eating corn.

Bran looked down. He could see mountains now their peaks white with snow and the silver thread of rivers in dark woods. He closed his eyes and began to cry.

That won’t do any good the crow said. I told you the answer is flying not crying. How hard can it be? I’m doing it. The crow took to the air and flapped around Bran’s hand.

“You have wings ” Bran pointed out. Maybe you do too.

Bran felt along his shoulders groping for feathers. There are different kinds of wings the crow said.

Bran was staring at his arms his legs. He was so skinny just skin stretched taut over bones. Had he always been so thin? He tried to remember. A face swam up at him out of the grey mist shining with light golden. “The things I do for love ” it said.

Bran screamed.

The crow took to the air cawing. Not that it shrieked at him. Forget that you do not need it now put it aside put it away. It landed on Bran’s shoulder and pecked at him and the shining golden face was gone.

Bran was falling faster than ever. The grey mists howled around him as he plunged toward the earth below. “What are you doing to me?” he asked the crow tearful.

Teaching you how to fly.

“I can’t fly!”

You’re flying tight now.

“I’m falling!”

Every flight begins with a fall the crow said. Look down. “I’m afraid . . .”

LOOKDOWN!

Bran looked down and felt his insides turn to water. The ground was rushing up at him now. The whole world was spread out below him a tapestry of white and brown and green. He could see everything so clearly that for a moment he forgot to be afraid. He could see the whole realm and everyone in it.

He saw Winterfell as the eagles see it the tall towers looking squat and stubby from above the castle walls just lines in the dirt. He saw Maester Luwin on his balcony studying the sky through a polished bronze tube and frowning as he made notes in a book. He saw his brother Robb taller and stronger than he remembered him practicing swordplay in the yard with real steel in his hand. He saw Hodor the simple giant from the stables carrying an anvil to Mikken’s forge hefting it onto his shoulder as easily as another man might heft a bale of hay. At the heart of the godswood the great white weirwood brooded over its reflection in the black pool its leaves rustling in a chill wind. When it felt Bran watching it lifted its eyes from the still waters and stared back at him knowingly.

He looked east and saw a galley racing across the waters of the Bite. He saw his mother sitting alone in a cabin looking at a bloodstained knife on a table in front of her as the rowers pulled at their oars and Ser Rodrik leaned across a rail shaking and heaving. A storm was gathering ahead of them a vast dark roaring lashed by lightning but somehow they could not see it.

He looked south and saw the great blue-green rush of the Trident. He saw his father pleading with the king his face etched with grief. He saw Sansa crying herself to sleep at night and he saw Arya watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart. There were shadows all around them. One shadow was dark as ash with the terrible face of a hound. Another was armored like the sun golden and beautiful. Over them both loomed a giant in armor made of stone but when he opened his visor there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood.

He lifted his eyes and saw clear across the narrow sea to the Free Cities and the green Dothraki sea and beyond to Vaes Dothrak under its mountain to the fabled lands of the Jade Sea to Asshai by the Shadow where dragons stirred beneath the sunrise.

Finally he looked north. He saw the Wall shining like blue crystal and his bastard brother Jon sleeping alone in a cold bed his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him. And he looked past the Wall past endless forests cloaked in snow past the frozen shore and the great blue-white rivers of ice and the dead plains where nothing grew or lived. North and north and north he looked to the curtain of light at the end of the world and then beyond that curtain. He looked deep into the heart of winter and then he cried out afraid and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks.

Now you know the crow whispered as it sat on his shoulder. Now you know why you must live. “Why?” Bran said not understanding falling falling.

Because winter is coming.

Bran looked at the crow on his shoulder and the crow looked back. It had three eyes and the third eye was full of a terrible knowledge. Bran looked down. There was nothing below him now but snow and cold and death a frozen wasteland where jagged blue-white spires of ice waited to embrace him. They flew up at him like spears. He saw the bones of a thousand other dreamers impaled upon their points. He was desperately afraid.

“Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?” he heard his own voice saying small and far away. And his father’s voice replied to him. “That is the only time a man can be brave.”

Now Bran the crow urged. Choose. Fly or die.

Death reached for him screaming.

Bran spread his arms and flew.

Wings unseen drank the wind and filled and pulled him upward. The terrible needles of ice receded below him. The sky opened up above. Bran soared. It was better than climbing. It was better than anything. The world grew small beneath him.

“I’m flying!” he cried out in delight.

I’ve noticed said the three-eyed crow. It took to the air flapping its wings in his face slowing him blinding him. He faltered in the air as its pinions beat against his cheeks. Its beak stabbed at him fiercely and Bran felt a sudden blinding pain in the middle of his forehead between his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he shrieked.

The crow opened its beak and cawed at him a shrill scream of fear and the grey mists shuddered and swirled around him and ripped away like a veil and he saw that the crow was really a woman a serving woman with long black hair and he knew her from somewhere from Winterfell yes that was it he remembered her now and then he realized that he was in Winterfell in a bed- high in some chilly tower room and the black-haired woman dropped a basin of water to shatter on the floor and ran down the steps shouting “He’s awake he’s awake he’s awake.”

Bran touched his forehead between his eyes. The place where the crow had pecked him was still burning but there was nothing there no blood no wound. He felt weak and dizzy. He tried to get out of bed but nothing happened.

And then there was movement beside the bed and something landed lightly on his legs. He felt nothing. A pair of yellow eyes looked into his own shining like the sun. The window was open and it was cold in the room but the warmth that came off the wolf enfolded him like a hot bath. His pup Bran realized . . . or was it? He was so big now. He reached out to pet him his hand trembling like a leaf.

When his brother Robb burst into the room breathless from his dash up the tower steps the direwolf was licking Bran’s face. Bran looked up calmly. “His name is Summer ” he said.