Get清风陆谷孙译文赏析三篇.docx

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Get清风陆谷孙译文赏析三篇

陆谷孙译文赏析三篇

陆谷孙译文赏析三篇〔1〕人间尽秋

AltogetherAutumn 人间尽秋陆谷孙译It’stimetoplantthebulbs.ButIputitoffaslongaspossiblebecauseplantingbulbsmeanmakingspaceinborderswhicharestillflowering.Pullingoutalltheannualswhichnaturehasallowedtoeruptinoverpoweringpurple,orangeandpink,afinalcryofjoy.Thatwouldalmostbemurder,andsoIwaituntilthefirstnightfrostanaesthetizesalltheflowerswithacold,acreakycrustthatcausesthemtowither;averygentledeath.NowIwanderthroughmygardenindecisively,tryingtoholdontothelastdaysoflatesummer. 到了栽种球茎植物的时候了。

我却是能拖那么拖，因为栽种球茎得在园篱处腾出空间，而此时篱上仍开着朵朵鲜花。

把一年生植物强行拔起，掐死造化恩赐的紫绛、橘黄和浅红这一片烂漫，阻断自然界的最后欢声，简直无异于谋杀。

所以我要等待第一个霜降之夜，等待花瓣全部沾上一层冷冽的霜晶，蒙无知觉中自行凋零，和婉地寿终正寝。

我在园中徜徉，拿不定主意，只求留住残夏的最后几天。

Thetreesareplumpwithleafysplendor.Thebirchissoftlyrustlinggold,whichisnowflutteringdownlikeanunendingstreamofconfetti.SoonNovemberwillbeapproachingwithitsautumnstormsandleadencloudshangingaboveyourheadlikesoakingwetrags.Justletitstaylikethis,Ithink,gazingatthehugemysteriousshadowsthetreesconjureupontheshininggreenmeadows,thecowslanguidlyflickingtheirtails.Everythingbreathesanairofstillness,thesilencerentbytheexuberantcolorofasters,dahlias,sunflowersandroses. 树叶犹盛，光鲜可人。

白桦婆娑轻摇，一片片金色的叶子飘飘落地，有如一溜不绝如缕的庆典彩纸。

11月行将降临，带来秋的凄风苦雨和铅灰色阴云，像浸水的抹布一样压在你的头顶。

但愿眼下的好天气会持续下去，我这样想，一边注视着树木在绿油油的草地上投下的幢幢诡谲黑影，还有倦慵地甩动尾巴的牛群。

一片静谧，惟有紫苑、大丽菊、向日葵和玫瑰的浓艳色彩似在撕裂四下的寂静。

Themorningsbeginchilly.Theeveningsgiveyoushiversandcoldfeetinbed.Butinthemiddleofthedaythesunbreaksthrough,evaporatingthemistonthegrass,butterfliesandwaspsappearandcobwebsglistenagainstwindowslikesilverlace.Theharvestofawholeyear’shardworkisonthetreesandbushes;berries,beechmast,chestnuts,andacorns. 清晨时分，天气凛冽，到了夜晚，你打起了哆嗦，躺在床上双脚冰凉。

但在正午时分，阳光拨开云层，将雾霭化作蒸气，在草地上升腾。

蝴蝶和黄蜂开始出没，蛛网犹如丝带，挂在窗前闪出银光。

树梢上和灌木丛里凝结了整整一年的辛劳，浆果、毛栗、板栗和橡实等着收获归仓。

Suddenly,Ithinkofmyyoungestdaughter,livingnowinAmsterdam.Verysoonshewillcallandask“Haveyouplantedthebulbsyet?

〞ThenIwillanswerteasinglythatactuallyI’mwaitinguntilshecomestohelpme.Andthenwewillbothbeovercomebynostalgia,becauseoncewealwaysdidthattogether.Oneentiresunnyautumnafternoon,whenshewasthreeandahalfyearsold,shehelpedmewithallenthusiasmandjoyfulnessofherage. 〞球茎植物种下了吗？

〞随即我会用打趣的口吻答复说，老妈正等着她来帮助下种呢。

接着母女双双陷入怀旧的情思，因为从前有段时间我们总是合作下种的，她才3岁半的那年，一个秋阳万里的午后，女儿曾怀着她那年龄特有的全部踊跃和欢乐，做过我的帮手。

ItwasoneofthelastafternoonsthatIhadheraround,becauseherplaceinschoolhasbeenalreadyreserved.Shewanderedaroundsohappilycarefreewithherlittlebucketandspade,coveringthebulbswithearthandcallingout“Night,night〞or“Sleepnight〞,herlittlevoicechatteringconstantlyon.Shediscovered“babybulbs〞,“kiddiebulbs〞,and“mummyanddaddybulbs〞,thelattersnugglingcozilytogether.Whilewewerebothworkingsoindustriously,Iwatchedmykidverydeliberately.Shewassuchatinything,betweenaninfantandatoddler,withsucharoundlittletummy. 生活中女儿绕膝的下午不多了，因为学校已给她留出一个名额。

她带上自己的小桶和铲子，兴高采烈又无忧无虑地满园子跑，给球茎培掩泥土的同时，用尖细的嗓子一遍又一遍聒噪着“晚安，晚安〞或是“睡个好觉〞。

她还分别发现了“贝贝种〞和“娃娃种〞，还有“妈妈爸爸种〞，后者指的是那些亲密依偎的球茎种。

两人辛苦劳作的同时，我曾留意审视孩子：

真是个小不点儿，出了襁褓，挺着个圆滚滚的小肚子刚开始蹒跚学步。

Everyautumn,throughoutherchildhood,werepeatedtheritualofplantingthebulbstogether.EveryautumnIsawherchanging,thetoddlerbecameaschoolgirl,astraightforwardrealist,fullofdrive.Neveroncedreamy,herhandsinherpockets;nolongerhappilyindulginginherfantasies.Theschoolgirldevelopedlonglegs,herjaw-linechanged,shehadherhaircut.ItwasautumnagainthatIthought“byeroses,byebutterflies,byeschoolgirl〞.Ilistenedtoherstorieswhilewepainstakinglyburrowedintheearth,plantingthepromiseofspring. 在女儿童年期的每个秋季，我们履行仪式似的种下球茎植物，而每个秋季我都注意到女儿身上发生的变化。

学步小儿长大成了女学生，成为一个充满进取心又坦率直面现实的人，从不把双手插在口袋里想入非非，再不靠恣意梦想而自得其乐。

女学生的双腿变得修长，下颏的轮廓线变了，要上理发店剪发了。

秋季再次来临时，我在心里默念“别了，玫瑰；别了，蝴蝶；别了，女学生。

〞当我们使劲在泥土里掘洞，种下明春的希望时，我在倾听女儿述说她的故事。

Suddenly,muchquickerthanIhadexpected,atallteenagerwasstandingbymyside.SheistallerthanI.Theritualbecamerathersilent,andwenolongerchatterfromonesubjecttoanother.Ithoughtaboutherroomfullofpostersandknick-knacks,howithadbeenfulloftreasuresinbottlesandboxes,whitepeddles,acopperbrooch,coloreddrawings,thetreasuresofachildwhostillknewnothingofmoney,whowantedtobereadtoandwholookedanxiouslyataspideratherroomandasked,“Wouldhewanttobemyfriend?

〞 突然，站在我身旁的女儿成了大姑娘，变化之神速远胜我的预料。

随后，她的身高超过了我。

下种成了相对无言的程式，不再有天南海北的闲聊。

我不由地想起她那挂满大幅招贴以及充满各种小摆设的房间，而先前这儿多的是瓶子和纸盒，白色的卵石，一枚铜制胸针，彩色图画。

这些都是一个尚不知晓金钱为何物的幼儿的珍藏品，一个要大人读书给她听的稚女，见了屋里的蛛网会忧心忡忡地发问：

“蜘蛛愿跟我做朋友吗？

〞 ThencametheautumnwhenIplantedthebulbsalone,andIknewfromthenonitwouldalwaysbethatway.Buteveryyear,inautumn,shetalksaboutit,fullofnostalgiaforthesecurityofchildhood,theseclusionofagarden,thefinalmomentsofaseason.Howbothofuswoulddearlylovetohaveatimemachinetogoback.Justforaday. 接着就是我单独下种的那个秋天，我还知道从此就是单干的命了。

但每年秋天，她总要提到下种的事，口气里充满怀旧的意味，缅想事事都有保障的童年，幽闭的庭园，一个季节的最后时刻。

父女俩多么衷心希望有一台时间机器，能回到往昔，即便过上一天也好。

陆谷孙译文赏析三篇〔2〕战前星期天

SundayBeforetheWar

ArthurClutton-Brock

OnSunday,inaremotevalleyintheWestofEngland,wherethepeoplearefewandscatteredandplacid,therewasnomoresignamongthemthanthequiethillsoftheanxietythatholdstheworld.Theyhadnonewsandseemedtowantnone.Thepostmasterwasorderedtostayalldayinhislittlepost-office,andthatsomethingunusualthatinterestedthem,justonlybecauseitaffectedthepostmaster.

Itrainedinthemorning,buttheafternoonwasclearandgloriousandshining,withalldistancesrevealedfarintotheheartofWalesandtothehighridgesoftheWelshmountains.Thecottagesofthatvalleyarenotgatheredintovillages,buttwoorthreetogetherorlonelyamongtheirfruit-treesonthehillside;andthecottagers,whoarealwayscourteousandfriendly,saidawordortwoasonewentby,butjustwhattheywouldhavesaidonanyotherdayandwithoutanyquestionaboutthewar.Indeed,theyseemedtoknow,ortowishtoknow,aslittleaboutthatastheearthitself,whichbeautifulthereatanytime,seemedthatafternoontowearanextremeandpatheticbeauty.Thecountry,morethananyotherintheEngland,hasthesecretofpeace.Itisnotwild,thoughitlooksintothewildnessofWales;butallitscultivation,itsorchardsandhopyardsandfieldsofgoldenwheat,seemtohavethebeautyoftimeuponthem,asifmentherehadlonglivedhappilyupontheearthwithnodesireforchangenorfearofdecay.Itisnotasadbeautyofapastcutofffromthepresent,butamellownessthatthepresentinheritsfromthepast;andinthemellownessallthehillsideseemsagardentothespaciousfarmhousesandthelittlecottages;eachleduptobyitsownnarrow,flowerylane.TherethemeadowsarealllawnswiththelustrousgreenofspringeveninAugust,andoftenover-shadowedbyoldfruit-trees–cherry,orapple,orpear;andonSundayaftertheraintherewasanAprilgloryandfreshnessaddedtothequietofthelatersummer.

Nowhereandneverintheworldcantherehavebeenadeeperpeace;andthebellsfromthelittleredchurchdownbytheriverseemedtobethemusicofit,asthesongofbirdsisthemusicofspring.Thereonesawhowbeautifulthelifeofmancanbe,andhowmenbytheinnocentlaboursofmanygenerationscangivetotheearthabeautyithasneverknowninitswildness.Andallthispeace,oneknew,wasthreatened;andthethreatcameintoone’smindasifitwereasoundlessmessagefromoverthegreateastwardplain;andwithitthebeautyseemedunsubstantialandstrange,asifitweresinkingawayintothepast,asifitwereonlythememoryofchildhood.

Soitisalwayswhenthemindistroubledamonghappythings,andthenonealmostwishestheycouldshareone’stroublesandbecomemorerealwithit.ItseemedonthatSundaythatagoldenagehadlastedtillyesterday,andthattheearthhadstilltolearnthenewsofitsending.Andthischangehascome,notbythewillofGod,notevenbythewillofman,butbecausesomefewmenfarawaywereafraidtobeopenandgenerouswitheachother.Therewasapowerintheirhandssogreatthatitfrightenedthem.Therewasaspringthattheyknewtheymustnottouch,and,likemischievousandnervouschildren,theyhadtoucheditatlast,andnowalltheworldwastosufferfortheirmischief.

Sothenextmorningonesawareservistinhisuniformsayinggoodbyetohiswifeandchildrenathiscottage-gateandthenwalkingupthehillthatleadsoutofthevalleywithacheerfulsmilestillonhisface.Therewasthefirstopensignoftrouble,averylittleone,andhemadetheleastofit;and,afterall,thisvalleyisveryfarfromanypossiblewar,anditsharvestanditsvintagesofperryandciderwillsurelybegatheredinpeace.

Butwhathappinesscantherebeinthatpeace,orwhatsecurityinthemindofman,whenthemadnessofwarisletlooseinsomanyothervalleys?

Herethereisabeautyinheritedfromthepast,andaddedtotheearthbyman’swill;butthemenhereareofthesamenatureandsubjecttothesamemadnessasthosewhoaregatheringtofightonthefrontiers.Weareallmenwiththesamepowerofmakinganddestroying,withthesamedivineforesightmockedbythesameanimalblindness.Weourselvesmaynotbeinfaulttoday,butitishumanbeingsinnowaydifferentfromuswhoaredoingwhatweabhorandtheyabhorevenwhiletheydoit.Thereisafate,comingfromthebeastinourownpast,thatthepresentmaninushasnotyetmastered,andforthemomentthatfateseemsamalignityinthenatureoftheuniverse