He kept his usual neat record of what was done to resisters. “About 20 whippings with fine rattan.” “20-30 whippings with electrical wire.” “Stuffing with water.” He claimed later that he had hated running the prison. He had tried to get sent to the Industry Ministry instead. It was not the torture that troubled him, though he tried to play that down. Nor was it the deaths. He did not see those; the slit throats, the hoe severing the neck, happened elsewhere. His sleep was untroubled by his victims’ faces.
他一如既往地把对抵抗者所做的一切记录得清清楚楚。“用细藤条打20下。”“用电线打20-30下。”“灌水”。他后来声称，他讨厌管理监狱。他曾努力转往工业部。困扰他的并不是折磨，尽管他想努力淡化这一点。困扰他的也不是死亡。他没有看见那些酷刑；割喉，锄头割颈，都是在别处发生的。受害者的脸庞没有困扰他的睡眠。
What bothered him was that S-21 was meant to be a tool to find out truth. Or so he had convinced himself. Yet perhaps 60% of each “confession” was false, and perhaps 80% of those he sent to death did not oppose the regime. He knew this at the time. Everyone knew it, Angkar included. No one dared say it, for sheer fear. He got through the days, he said later, by quoting Alfred de Vigny: “Energetically perform your long and heavy task/On the path to which Fate has called you/Then…suffer and die without a word.”
困扰他的是，S-21应该是发现真相的一个方法。至少他是这样说服自己的。然而，也许60%的“认罪”都是错误的，或许80%的被他判死刑的人都不反对当局。当时他就知道。大家都知道，包括柬共。出于纯粹的害怕，没有人敢发声。他熬过了这些日子，后来，他引用阿尔弗雷德·德维尼的话说道：“在命运召唤你的道路上，精力充沛地完成你漫长而艰巨的任务，然后...默默受苦，默默死去。”
To poetry he could add another salve: complete identification with the revolutionary struggle. He had fallen for communism Chinese-style at the Institut de Pédagogie, teacher-training college. That promise of progress and change was irresistible. By the early 1970s he was in the maquis with the Khmers Rouges, learning to fight for a Democratic Kampuchea that would be agrarian, classless and untainted by the West.
他还可以在这个诗歌中加上一条：完全认同革命斗争。在他在师范学院爱上了中国式的共产主义。进步和变革的希望是不可抗拒的。到20世纪70年代初，他加入了红色高棉的游击队员，学习为民主柬埔寨而战，一个以土地为基础，没有阶级，不受西方污染的柬埔寨。
译文由可可原创，仅供学习交流使用，未经许可请勿转载。
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