第83部分(第6/7 頁)

The cold of the Treasury chambers had so perated my bones that it

seemed　as　though　the　gentle　weather　of　an　early　spring　had　settled　over　the

city　streets。　As　I　passed　the　grocer；　barber；　herbalist；　fruit　and　vegetable　shop

and　firewood　shop　of　the　Old　Caravansary　Bazaar；　which　were　shutting　down

one　by　one　for　the　night；　I　slowed　my　pace　and　carefully　examined　the　casks；

cloth　sheets；　carrots　and　jars　in　the　warm　shops　lit　by　oil　lamps。

My Enishte’s street （I still couldn’t say “Shekure’s street” let alone “my

street”） appeared even stranger and more distant after my two…day absence。

But the joy of being reunited safe and sound with my Shekure； and the

thought that I’d be able to enter my beloved’s bed tonight—since the

murderer was as good as caught—made me feel so intimate with the whole

world that upon seeing the pomegranate tree and the repaired and closed

shutters； I had to restrain myself from shouting like a farmer hollering to

someone　across　a　stream。　When　I　saw　Shekure；　I　wanted　the　first　words　out　of

my　mouth　to　be；　“We　know　who　the　wretched　murderer　is！”

I　opened　the　courtyard　gate。　I’m　not　sure　if　it　was　from　the　squeak　of　the

gate； the carefree way the sparrow drank water from the well bucket； or the

darkness　of　the　house；　but　with　the　wolflike　prescience　of　a　man　who’d　lived

alone for twelve years； I understood at once that nobody was home。 Even

bitterly　realizing　that　one’s　been　left　to　his　own　devices；　one　will　still　open　and

close　all　of　the　doors；　the　cabis　and　even　lift　the　lids　of　pots；　and　th