Inside the Russian Embassy in London a KGB colonel puffed a cigarette as he read the handwritten note for the third time. There was no need for the writer to express regret, he though. Correcting this problem would be easy. He would do that in a moment. The thought of it caused a grim smile to appear and joy to his heart. But he pushed away those thoughts and turned his attention to a framed photograph on his desk. His wife was beautiful, he told himself as he remembered the day they were married. That was forty-three years ago, and it had been the proudest and happiest day of his life.

在倫敦的俄國使館，一位克格勃上校一邊吞云吐霧，一邊讀著一張手寫的字條，這已是他第三次在讀這張字條了。便條的作者不必表示遺憾了，上校這樣想著。糾正這個錯誤其實(shí)很容易。他只要一會兒工夫便會做到。想到這里，他的臉上不禁浮現(xiàn)出一種可怕的笑容，他內(nèi)心深處既傷感而又快活。上校從沉思中游離出來，將注意力集中到桌子上的一個像框上，他的妻子是位美麗的女人，當(dāng)想起他們成婚的那一天時他不禁自語道。那已是43年前的事情了，可卻是他一生中最自豪最幸福的日子。

What had happened to all that time? Why had it passed so quickly, and why hadnt he spent more of it with her? Why hadnt he held her close and told her more often that he loved her? He cursed himself as a tear came from the corner of his eye, ran down his cheek, then dropped onto the note. He stiffened and wiped his face with the back of his hand. There was no need for remorse or regret, he told himself. In a few moments he would join her and at that time would express his undying love and devotion.

那些時候都發(fā)生了什么?為什么時光流逝得如此之快?為什么他沒能將更多的時光用來陪伴她?為什么他沒能將她摟緊，更多次地告訴她他愛她?他于是開始詛咒起自己，淚水也忍不住奪眶而出，流過面頰，最后滴落在字條上。這時，他板起了面孔，用手背揩去了眼淚。已經(jīng)沒有必要來自責(zé)與悔恨了，他對自己說道。很快他不就會與她團(tuán)聚了嗎?到那時，他將再向她表達(dá)他永恒的愛與忠心。

After setting the note ablaze he dropped it into an ashtray and watched it burn. For a time the names cast moving shadows on the walls of the darkened room, then they nickered and died out. The colonel dropped the cigarette to the floor and ground it out with his heel, then clutched the photograph to his breast, removed a pistol from his pocket, placed the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger. In the ashtray a small portion of the note remained. Where it had been wetted by his tear it had failed to bum, and on that scrap of paper were the words died yesterday.

他點(diǎn)燃了字條，將它扔進(jìn)了煙灰缸中，看著它慢慢地燃燒起來。在火苗的映襯下，這間漆黑的屋子里的四壁一時變得影影綽綽。不一會兒，火苗成了星星點(diǎn)點(diǎn)，漸漸地熄滅了。上校把香煙扔在了地板上，用后腳跟碾滅，隨后抓起照片放在自己的胸前。他從衣兜中掏出了一把手槍，將槍筒放進(jìn)自己的嘴中，接著扣動扳機(jī)。在煙灰缸中還殘留著一小片字條，由于被上校的淚水浸濕而未能燃盡。在這塊殘片上有這樣幾個字昨天去世。

Inside the Russian Embassy in London a KGB colonel puffed a cigarette as he read the handwritten note for the third time. There was no need for the writer to express regret, he though. Correcting this problem would be easy. He would do that in a moment. The thought of it caused a grim smile to appear and joy to his heart. But he pushed away those thoughts and turned his attention to a framed photograph on his desk. His wife was beautiful, he told himself as he remembered the day they were married. That was forty-three years ago, and it had been the proudest and happiest day of his life.

在倫敦的俄國使館，一位克格勃上校一邊吞云吐霧，一邊讀著一張手寫的字條，這已是他第三次在讀這張字條了。便條的作者不必表示遺憾了，上校這樣想著。糾正這個錯誤其實(shí)很容易。他只要一會兒工夫便會做到。想到這里，他的臉上不禁浮現(xiàn)出一種可怕的笑容，他內(nèi)心深處既傷感而又快活。上校從沉思中游離出來，將注意力集中到桌子上的一個像框上，他的妻子是位美麗的女人，當(dāng)想起他們成婚的那一天時他不禁自語道。那已是43年前的事情了，可卻是他一生中最自豪最幸福的日子。

What had happened to all that time? Why had it passed so quickly, and why hadnt he spent more of it with her? Why hadnt he held her close and told her more often that he loved her? He cursed himself as a tear came from the corner of his eye, ran down his cheek, then dropped onto the note. He stiffened and wiped his face with the back of his hand. There was no need for remorse or regret, he told himself. In a few moments he would join her and at that time would express his undying love and devotion.

那些時候都發(fā)生了什么?為什么時光流逝得如此之快?為什么他沒能將更多的時光用來陪伴她?為什么他沒能將她摟緊，更多次地告訴她他愛她?他于是開始詛咒起自己，淚水也忍不住奪眶而出，流過面頰，最后滴落在字條上。這時，他板起了面孔，用手背揩去了眼淚。已經(jīng)沒有必要來自責(zé)與悔恨了，他對自己說道。很快他不就會與她團(tuán)聚了嗎?到那時，他將再向她表達(dá)他永恒的愛與忠心。

After setting the note ablaze he dropped it into an ashtray and watched it burn. For a time the names cast moving shadows on the walls of the darkened room, then they nickered and died out. The colonel dropped the cigarette to the floor and ground it out with his heel, then clutched the photograph to his breast, removed a pistol from his pocket, placed the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger. In the ashtray a small portion of the note remained. Where it had been wetted by his tear it had failed to bum, and on that scrap of paper were the words died yesterday.

他點(diǎn)燃了字條，將它扔進(jìn)了煙灰缸中，看著它慢慢地燃燒起來。在火苗的映襯下，這間漆黑的屋子里的四壁一時變得影影綽綽。不一會兒，火苗成了星星點(diǎn)點(diǎn)，漸漸地熄滅了。上校把香煙扔在了地板上，用后腳跟碾滅，隨后抓起照片放在自己的胸前。他從衣兜中掏出了一把手槍，將槍筒放進(jìn)自己的嘴中，接著扣動扳機(jī)。在煙灰缸中還殘留著一小片字條，由于被上校的淚水浸濕而未能燃盡。在這塊殘片上有這樣幾個字昨天去世。