Youdidnotstaylong, ? .
“IwishtheboywerehereandthatIhadsomesalt,” hesaidaloud.
Shiftingtheweightofthelinetohisleftshoulderandkneelingcarefullyhewashedhishandintheoceanandhelditthere, submerged, formorethanaminutewatchingthebloodtrailawayandthesteadymovementofthewateragainsthishandastheboatmoved.
“Hehasslowedmuch,” hesaid.
.
“Now,” hesaid, whenhishandhaddried, “.”
, andbracingonhislefthandandarm, , wipedhisknifeonhistrousers, andliftedthecarcassofthebonitobythetailanddroppeditoverboard.
“Idon’tthinkIcaneatanentireone,” .
“Whatkindofahandisthat,” hesaid.“.”
Comeon, ’.
.
Chewitwell, hethought, .
“Howdoyoufeel, hand?” heaskedthecrampedhandthatwasalmostasstiffasrigormortis.“I’lleatsomemoreforyou.”
.
“Howdoesitgo, hand? Orisittooearlytoknow?”
Hetookanotherfullpieceandchewedit.
“Itisastrongfull-bloodedfish,” hethought.“.”
Thereisnosenseinbeinganythingbutpracticalthough, , .
“Bepatient, hand,” hesaid.“Idothisforyou.”
IwishIcouldfeedthefish, -shapedstripsoffish.
Hestraightenedup, wipinghishandonhistrousers.“Now,” hesaid.“Youcanletthecordgo,hand, andIwillhandlehimwiththerightarmaloneuntilyoustopthatnonsense.” Heputhisleftfootontheheavylinethatthelefthandhadheldandlaybackagainstthepullagainsthisback.
“Godhelpmetohavethecrampgo,” hesaid.“BecauseIdonotknowwhatthefishisgoingtodo.”
Butheseemscalm, hethought, , ? .
.
, , Iwillopenit, .
, thenblurring, thenetchingagainandheknewnomanwaseveraloneonthesea.
, whentherearenohurricanes, theweatherofhurricanemonthsisthebestofalltheyear.
Ifthereisahurricaneyoualwaysseethesignsofitintheskyfordaysahead, , , .
HelookedattheskyandsawthewhitecumulusbuiltlikefriendlypilesoficecreamandhighabovewerethethinfeathersofthecirrusagainstthehighSeptembersky.
“Lightbrisa,” hesaid.“Betterweatherformethanforyou, fish.”
Hislefthandwasstillcramped, buthewasunknottingitslowly.
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老人与海歌曲
老人与海