The Spiders Thread 蜘蛛之丝 (下)

Kandata was floating and sinking along with the other sinners in the Lake of Blood at the bottom of Hell. It was pitch black no matter which way he looked, and the occasional glimpse of light that he would see in the darkness would turn out to be just the glint of the terrible Mountain of Needles. How lonely he must have felt! All about him was the silence of the grave, the only occasional sound being a faint sigh from one of the damned. Those who were so evil as to be sent to this place were tired by its various torments, and left without even the strength to cry out. Even the great thief Kandata could only squirm like a dying frog as he choked in the Lake of Blood.

But one day, raising up his head and glancing at the sky above the lake, in the empty darkness Kandata saw a silver spider‘s thread being lowered from the ceiling so far, far away. The thread seemed almost afraid to be seen, emitting a frail, constant light as it came down to just above Kandata‘s head. Seeing this, Kandata couldn‘t help but clap his hands in joy. If he were to cling to this thread and climb up it, he may be able to climb out of Hell! Perhaps he could even climb all the way to Paradise! Then he would never be chased up the Mountain of Needles, nor drowned in the Lake of Blood again.

Thinking so, he firmly grasped the spider‘s thread with both hands and began to climb the thread, higher and higher. Having once been a great thief, he was used to tasks such as this. But the distance between Hell and Paradise is tens of thousands of miles, and so it would seem that no amount of effort would make this an easy journey. After climbing for some time Kandata tired, and couldn‘t climb a bit higher. Having no other recourse, he hung there from the thread, resting, and while doing so looked down below.

He saw that he had made a good deal of progress. The Lake of Blood that he had been trapped in was now hidden in the dark below, and he had even climbed higher than the dimly glowing Mountain of Needles. If he could keep up this pace, perhaps he could escape from Hell after all. Kandata grasped the thread with both hands, and laughingly spoke in a voice that he hadn‘t used in the many years since he had come here, “I‘ve done it! I‘ve done it!”

Looking down, however, what did he see but an endless queue of sinners, intently following him up the thread like a line of ants! Seeing this, surprise and fear kept Kandata hanging there for a time with mouth open and eyes blinking like a fool. How could this slender spider‘s web, which should break even under just his weight, support the weight of all these other people? If the thread were to snap, all of his effort would be wasted and he would fall back into Hell with the others! That just would not do. But even as he thought these thoughts, hundreds more, thousands more of the damned came crawling up from the Lake of Blood, forming a line and scurrying up the thread. If he didn‘t do something fast, surely the thread would snap in the middle and he would fall back down.

Kandata shouted out, “Hey! You sinners! This thread is mine! Who said you could climb up it? Get off! Get off!”

Though the thread had been fine until just then, with these words it snapped with a twang right where Kandata held it. Poor Kandata fell headfirst through the air, spinning like a top, right down through the darkness. The severed end of the silver thread hung there, suspended from heaven, shining with its pale light in that moonless, starless sky.

The Buddha stood in Paradise at the edge of the lotus pond, silently watching these events. After Kandata sank like a stone to the bottom of the Lake of Blood, he continued his stroll with a sad face. He must have been surprised that even after such severe punishment Kandata‘s lack of compassion would lead him right back into Hell.

Yet the lotus blossoms in the lotus ponds of Paradise care nothing about such matters. Their jewel-like white flowers waved about the feet of the Buddha, and each flower‘s golden center continuously filled the place with their indescribably wondrous fragrance. It was almost noon in Paradise.

(16 April 1918)

翻译:

这边厢犍陀多正和其他罪人,在地狱底层的血池里载沉载浮。不论朝哪儿望去,处处都是黑魆魆暗幽幽的,偶尔影影绰绰,暗中悬浮着什么,原来是阴森可怕的刀山剑树,让人看了胆战心惊。尤其是四周一片死寂,如在墓中。间或听到的,也仅是罪人恹恹的叹息声。凡落到这一步的人,都已受尽地狱的折磨,衰惫不堪,恐怕连哭出声的气力都没有了。所以,恁是大盗犍陀多,也像只濒死的青蛙,在血池里,惟有一面咽着血水,一面苦苦挣扎而已。

偶然间,犍陀多无心一抬头,向血池上空望去,在阒然无声的黑暗中,但见一缕银色的蛛丝,正从天而降。仿佛怕人看到似的,细细一线,微光闪烁,恰在自己头上笔直垂落下来。犍陀多一见,喜不自胜,拍手称快。倘抓住蜘蛛丝,攀援而上,准保能脱离苦海。不特此也,侥幸的话,兴许还能爬进极乐世界哩。如此,再不会驱之上刀山,也庶免沉沦血池之苦了。

这样一想,犍陀多赶紧伸出双手,死死攥住蛛丝,一把一把,拼命往上攀去。原本是大盗,手并足抵,区区小事一桩而已。可是,地狱与净土之间,何止千万里!不论犍陀多怎样心焦气躁,要想爬出地狱,真谈何容易。爬了一程,终于筋疲力尽,哪怕伸手往上再升一级,也难以为役了。一筹莫展之下,只好住手,先歇会儿喘口气,便吊在蛛丝上,悬在半空中,一面放眼向下望去。

方才是不顾死活往上攀,总算没白费力气,片刻前自己还沉沦在内的血池,不知何时,竟已隐没在黑暗的地底。那寒光闪闪,令人毛骨悚然的刀山剑树,也已在自己脚下。如果一直这样往上爬,要逃出地狱,也许并非难事。犍陀多将两手绕在蛛丝上,开怀大笑起来:“这下好啦!我得救啦!”那吼声,自打落进地狱以来多年不曾得闻的。

可是,他留神一看,蛛丝的下端,有数不清的罪人,简直像一行蚂蚁,跟在自己后面,正一意在攀登上来。见此情景,犍陀多又惊又怕,有好一忽儿傻不愣登张着嘴,眨巴着眼睛。这样细细一根蜘蛛丝,负担自家一人尚且发发可危,那么多人的重量,怎禁受得住?万一半中间断掉,就连好家伙我,千辛万苦才爬到这里,岂不也要一头朝下,重新掉进地狱里去么?那一来,可乖乖不得了!这工夫,成百上千的罪人蠢蠢欲动,从黑洞洞的血池底下爬将上来,一字儿沿着发出一缕细光的蜘蛛丝,不暇少停,拼命向上爬。不趁早想办法,蛛丝就会一断二截,自己势必又该掉进地狱去了。

于是,犍陀多暴喝一声:“嘿,你们这帮罪人,这根蛛丝可是咱家我的!谁让你们爬上来的?快滚下去!滚下去!”

说时迟,那时快,方才还好端端的蜘蛛丝,竟噗哧一声,从吊着犍陀多的地方突然断裂。这回有他好受的了。霎时间,犍陀多像个陀螺,滴溜溜翻滚着,唆地一头栽进黑暗的深渊。此时,惟有极乐净土的蜘蛛丝,依然细细的,闪着一缕银光,半短不长的,飘垂在没有星月的半空中。

佛世尊伫立在宝莲池畔,始终凝视着事情的经过。当犍陀多倏忽之间便石头般沉入血池之底,世尊面露悲悯之色,又重新踱起步来。犍陀多只顾自己脱离苦海,毫无慈悲心肠,于是受到应得的报应,又落进原先的地狱。在世尊眼里,想必那作为是过于卑劣了。

不过,极乐莲池里的莲花,并不理会这等事。那晶白如玉的花朵,掀动着花萼在世尊足畔款摆,花心之中金蕊送香,其香胜妙殊绝,普薰十方。极乐世界大约已近正午时分。

(一九一八年四月) 艾莲 译

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