분야
hwp He was an old man who fished alone
in a skiff in the Gulf Stream...
... and he had gone 84 days now
without taking a fish.
In the first 40 days,
a boy had been with him.
But after 40 days without a fish
the boys parents told him...
... that the old man was now definitely
and finally salao...
... which is the worst form of unlucky...
... and the boy had gone at their orders
in another boat...
... which caught three good fish
the first week.
The old man had taught the boy to fish,
and the boy loved him.
The old man was gray and wrinkled,
with deep furrows in the back of his neck...
... and his hands had the deep, creased scars
from handling heavy fish on the cords.
But none of these scars were fresh.
They were as old as erosions
in a fishless desert.
Everything about him was old,
except his eyes.
And they were the same color as the sea,
were cheerful and undefeated.
It made the boy sad to see the old man
come in each day with his skiff empty.
He always went down to help him carry
the lines, the gaff and harpoon...
... and the sail that was furled
around the mast.
The sail was patched
with flour sacks, and furled.
It looked like the flag
of permanent defeat.
No one would steal
from the old man...
... but its better to take
the sail and lines home...
... as the dew was bad for them.
Though he was sure no
local people would steal...
... the old man thought
a gaff and a harpoon...
... were needless temptations
to leave in a boat.
The successful fishermen were already in
and had butchered their marlin out...
... carried them laid full-length
across two planks to the fish house...
... where they waited for the ice truck
to carry them to the market in Havana.
"Can I offer you a beer on the terrace?"
The boy asked.
"Why not?" the old man said.
"Between fisherman."
Two beers, Martin. Please.
They sat on the terrace and many
fishermen made fun of the old man.
But he was not angry.
He did not remember
when he had attained humility...
... but he knew he had attained it...
... and he knew it was not disgraceful
and it carried no true loss of pride.
Some of the older fishermen
looked at him and were sad...
... but they did not show it.
They spoke about the currents...
... and the depths theyd
drifted their lines at...
... and the steady, good weather
and of what they had seen.
- Santiago.
- Yes?
Can I go and get the sardines
for you tomorrow?
Oh, no. No.
You play ball. I can still row,
and I can still throw the net.
I know where I can get four fresh baits.
I still have mine from today.
Let me get four fresh ones.
- One.
- Two.
Two.
- You didnt steal them, did you?
- I would, but I bought these.
Thank you.
If I cannot fish with you,
Id like to serve in some way.
You bought me a beer.
You are already a man.
They walked up the road together.
The old man stood the mast
outside his shack.
In the old mans shack,
there was a bed, a table, chairs...
... and a place to cook with charcoal.
On the brown walls, there was a picture
in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus...
... and another of the Virgin of Cobre.
These were relics of his wife.
Once there had been a tinted photograph
of his wife on the wall.
But he had taken it down because
it made him too lonely to see it.
It was on the shelf in the corner,
under his clean shirt.
Tomorrow is the th day.
Eighty-five is a lucky number.
Howd you like to see me bring one in
that dressed out over a thousand pounds?
Are you strong enough now
for a truly big fish?
I think so.
And there are many tricks.
Santiago, I could go with you again.
Weve made enough money.
No, no. You are in a lucky boat.
You stay with them.
Remember how long we went
without fish before?
Then we caught big ones every day
for three weeks.
