衚衕與四合院
Level 5 · 文化 · 324 vocabulary words
北京城的地图,像一块大豆腐,横一条竖一条,全是一样宽的巷子。这些巷子有个蒙古名字,叫胡同。
Old Beijing's map looks like a slab of tofu, lanes of one width crossing at right angles. These lanes bear a Mongol name: hutong.
元朝的时候,北京就有了胡同。七八百年过去,最多的时候城里有六千多条,名字千奇百怪。
The hutong appeared in Yuan times; after eight centuries there were over six thousand, with names of every kind.
有的叫烟袋斜街,因为巷子斜着像烟袋;有的叫扁担胡同,因为又窄又直;还有的以手艺人的名字命名。
Pipe Slant Street slants like a pipe; Pole Hutong is narrow and straight; others take craftsmen's names.
胡同里最常见的房子是四合院。四面房子围着一个院子,一家几代人住在一起,方方正正,安安静静。
The hutong's typical house is the courtyard siheyuan: buildings on four sides around a yard where generations live together, square and quiet.
四合院的门也有讲究。大门开在东南角,进门先见影壁,外人看不见院子里的生活。
The courtyard gate has rules: it sits in the southeast, and a screen wall inside keeps the family's life from passing eyes.
院子里种着枣树、石榴,养着金鱼和鸟。夏天在树下乘凉,冬天在屋里生炉子,日子过得很慢。
Yards hold date trees and pomegranates, goldfish and birds; summers under shade, winters by the stove, life ran slow.
一个胡同就是一个大家庭。谁家包了饺子,邻居都能尝到;谁家有了难事,全院都来帮忙。
One hutong was one big family: dumplings were shared, troubles brought the whole courtyard's help.
孩子们在胡同里长大,跳皮筋、捉迷藏、拍洋画,一喊吃饭,声音能传半条街。
Children grew up there, skipping games, hide-and-seek, card-slapping, and a dinner call carried half the street.
后来,城市越长越大,一片片胡同拆了,变成了高楼。四合院里的人搬进了有电梯的公寓。
Later the city grew; whole hutongs fell to towers, and courtyard families moved into elevator apartments.
有人说这是进步,老房子冬天冷、没有厕所;有人说这是可惜,拆掉的胡同再也回不来了。
Some call it progress, the old houses were cold, toiletless; others say a pity, a demolished hutong never returns.
现在,北京留下了几十片保护区。南锣鼓巷的胡同还在,只是住家变成了咖啡馆和文创店。
Today dozens of protected zones remain. Nanluoguxiang's hutong survive, though homes became cafés and design shops.
四合院的北房最暖和,给长辈住;东西厢房是儿女们的;南房采光差,做书房或者客房。
The north rooms, warmest, go to the elders; the east and west wings to the children; the dim south rooms serve as study or guest quarters.
正房门口挂着帘子,夏天挡蚊子,冬天挡北风。帘子一掀,就是一家人吃饭的地方。
Curtains hang at the main door: keeping out mosquitoes in summer, north wind in winter. Lift the curtain and there is the family's table.
四合院讲究门墩。门口一对石头门墩,圆的像鼓,方的像书,有钱人家还要雕狮子。
Courtyards prize their gate-stones: round like drums or square like books, and rich houses carved lions into them.
胡同口有一棵老槐树,谁家有喜事就在树下说,谁家有丧事也从树下走。槐树不说话,什么都看见了。
An old locust tree stands at the lane's mouth: weddings announced beneath it, funerals passing under it. The tree says nothing and has seen everything.
四合院里最热闹的是夏天。晚饭后家家搬出小桌子,在院子里吃饭,蝉在树上叫,邻居隔着墙聊天。
Summer is the courtyard's liveliest season: after dinner every family drags out small tables, cicadas sing overhead, neighbors chat across walls.
冬天最怕水管冻。早上起来先用热水浇一遍管子,水流出来才能洗脸做饭。
Winter's fear is frozen pipes: hot water over the pipes first thing each morning, else no water for washing or cooking.
现在留下来的四合院,有的改成了旅馆,有的成了大杂院,住十几户人家,院子中间还拉着晾衣绳。
Of the surviving courtyards, some became hotels, others big shared compounds housing a dozen families, clotheslines still strung across the yard.
梁思成先生当年为保护北京城跑遍了胡同。他说:拆掉一座城楼,像割去我一块肉。
Architect Liang Sicheng once ran through every hutong defending the city. To demolish a tower, he said, is like cutting flesh from me.
胡同里的叫卖声也是一种音乐。磨刀的、收废品的、卖糖葫芦的,一人一个调,孩子们一听就知道是谁来了。
The vendors' cries were a music of their own: the knife-grinder, the scrap collector, the candied-haw seller, each had a tune and the children knew each one.
四合院的影壁后面常常刻着字,最常见的是一个福字,或者平安两个字。进门先看见的,是一家人最简单的愿望。
Behind the screen wall characters are often carved, most often 'fortune' or 'peace'. What you see first on entering is a family's simplest wish.
住过胡同的人搬走了,还会回来看看。站在胡同口,什么变了,什么没变,一眼就能认出来。
Those who once lived in hutong still come back to look. At the lane's mouth they can tell at a glance what changed and what stayed.
游客们在胡同里拍照,老人们坐在门口下棋。城市和四合院一样,一边要新,一边要旧,才像个家。
Tourists photograph the lanes while elders play chess at the doors. A city, like a courtyard, needs the new and the old to feel like home.