综合教程5课文翻译

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1、综合教程第五册课文翻译Unit1The Fourth of July The first time I went to Washington D.C. was on the edge of the summer when I was supposed to stop being a child. At least thats what they said to us all at graduation from the eighth grade. My sister Phyllis graduated at the same time from high school. I dont know

2、 what she was supposed to stop being. But as graduation presents for us both, the whole family took a Forth of July trip to Washington D.C., the fabled and famous capital of our country. 我第一次到华盛顿的时候是初夏那时我想我不应该再当一个孩子。至少这是他们在八年级的毕业典礼上对我们说的。我的姐姐菲利斯在同一时间从高中毕业。我不知道她应该不再当一个什么。但当作是送给我们俩的毕业礼物,我们全家在国庆日前往华盛顿旅

3、游,那是传奇而著名的我国首都。It was the first time Id ever been on a railroad train during the day. When I was little, and we used to go to the Connecticut shore, we always went at night on the milk train, because it was cheaper. 这是我第一次真正意义上在白天时乘坐火车。当我还小的时候我们总是在夜晚乘坐运奶火车去康涅狄格海岸,因为它更便宜。 Preparations were in the air

4、 around our house before school was over. We packed for two weeks. There were two large suitcases that my father carried, and a box filled with food. In fact, my first trip to Washington was a mobile feast; I started eating as soon as we were ensconced in our seats, and did not stop until somewhere

5、after Philadelphia. I remember it was Philadelphia because I was disappointed not to have passed by the Liberty Bell. 学期还没结束前家里就开始忙着准备旅行的事。我们准备了两个星期。父亲拿了两个大箱子和一个装满食物的盒子。事实上,我第一次到华盛顿的旅途可以说是一个移动盛宴一在位子上安顿下来我就开始吃东西直到我们到了费城往后的某个地方才停下来。我记得那是费城,是因为我们没有经过自由之钟对此我很失望。My mother had roasted two chickens and cut

6、 them into dainty bite-size pieces. She packed slices of brown bread and butter, and green pepper and carrot sticks. There were little violently yellow iced cakes with scalloped edges called “marigolds,”that came from Cushmans Bakery. There was a spice bun and rock- cakes from Newtons, the West Indi

7、an bakery across Lenox Avenue from St. Marks school, and iced tea in a wrapped mayonnaise jar. There were sweet peaches for us and dill pickles for my father, and peaches with the fuzz still on them, individually wrapped to keep them from bruising. And, for neatness, there were piles of napkins and

8、a little tin box with a washcloth dampened with rosewater and glycerine for wiping sticky mouths. 母亲烤了两只鸡,然后把它们切成恰好一口一片的大小。她打包了黑面包和黄油切片,青椒和胡萝卜条。有来自Cushman 面包店的亮黄色的周围有一圈扇贝形状的小冰蛋糕叫做“金盏花“。有来自牛顿面包店的香辛小面包和岩皮饼,还有包裹着蛋黄酱的冰茶那是一家雷诺克斯大街上圣马可学校对面的西印度面包店。还有母亲为我们准备的蜜桃和给父亲准备的莳萝腌菜,桃子上还有绒毛,单独包装,以免它们碰伤。为了干净,母亲还准备了成堆的餐

9、巾纸和一个小锡盒子里面装有浸了玫瑰水和甘油的毛巾,可以用来擦拭发粘的嘴巴。I wanted to eat in the dinning car because I had read all about them, but my mother reminded me of umpteenth time that dinning car food always cost too much money and besides, you never could tell whose hands had been playing all over that food, nor where those s

10、ame hands had been just before. My mother never mentioned that Black people were not allowed into dining cars headed south in 1947. As usual, whatever my mother did not like and could not change, she ignored. Perhaps it would go away, deprived of her attention.我想要在餐车吃饭,因为我已经从书上读到过关于它们的一切,但母亲提醒了我无数次,

11、餐车食品太贵,而且,你根本没法辨别那些食物上有谁的手在上面动过,也不知道, 之前他们的手碰过什么地方。我的母亲从未提及过直到1947 年黑人还是不被允许进入前往南部的火车餐车。通常,无论母亲是不喜欢的或无法改变的事她都会忽视。可能她觉得如果把注意力转开事情就会过去。I learned latter that Phylliss high school senior class trip had been to Washington, but the nuns had given her back her deposit in private, explaining to her that the

12、 class, all of whom were white, except Phyllis, would be staying in a hotel where Phyllis “would not be happy,”meaning, Daddy explained to her, also in private, that they did not rent rooms to Negroes. “We still take among-you to Washington, ourselves,”my father had avowed, “and not just for an over

13、night in some measly fleabag hotel. 后来我知道菲利斯的高中班级旅行去的就是华盛顿,但老师们私底下又把费用还回给了她,跟她解释说,班上的孩子除了菲利斯都是白人他们将住的那家旅馆会让菲利斯不高兴。这句话后来父亲对她私下里解释的意思就是,他们不租房间给黑人。父亲承诺说我们仍然会带着你们到华盛顿去,就我们自己。而不是只是在便宜破旧的小旅馆里住一晚。“In Washington D.C., we had one large room with two double beds and an extra cot for me. It was a back-street h

14、otel that belonged to a friend of my fathers who was in real estate, and I spent the whole next day after Mass squinting up at the Lincoln Memorial where Marian Anderson had sung after D.A.R. refused to allow her to sing in their auditorium because she was black. Or because she was “Colored”, my fat

15、her said as he told us the story. Except that what he probably said was ”Negro”, because for his times, my father was quite progressive. 在华盛顿,我们住一间有两张双人床的房间我还有一张额外的小床。这是一家后街的旅馆是我父亲的一个朋友的房产。次日弥撒过后我花了整个一天的时间眯着眼看林肯纪念堂。在D.A.R.因玛丽安?安德森是个黑人而拒绝她在他们的礼堂唱歌后她曾在林肯纪念堂唱过歌。父亲在告诉我们这个故事的时候说也许是因为她是“有色人种”。除此之外父亲说的可能就是

16、“黑人”,他当时相当激进。I was squinting because I was in that silent agony that characterized all of my childhood summers, from the time school let out in June to the end of July, brought about by my dilated and vulnerable eyes exposed to the summer brightness. 我眯着眼是因为我一直处于无声的痛苦中那一直是我从童年的夏天的特征,从学校放假的六月到七月底,导致我

17、扩张和脆弱的眼睛曝晒在夏天的强光下。 I viewed Julys through an agonizing corolla of dazzling whiteness and I always hated the Fourth of July, even before I came to realize the travesty such a celebration was for Black people in this country. 6 月在我看来就是令人极度痛苦晕眩的白色。我讨厌国庆日,甚至在我开始意识到这荒谬的现实这对美国黑人来说也算是个庆典-之前就开始讨厌了。My parent

18、s did not approve of sunglasses, nor of their expense. 我的父母不赞成戴墨镜,他们也花费不起。 I spent the afternoon squinting up at monuments to freedom and past presidencies and democracy, and wondering why the light and heat were both so much stronger in Washington D.C., than back home in New York City. Even the pav

19、ement on the streets was a shade lighter in color than back home. 我花了一下午的时间眯眼看自由纪念碑、历届总统和民主政治,不知道为什么华盛顿的光和热要比家乡纽约强得多。甚至街道上的人行道路面都比家乡的颜色略浅。Late that Washington afternoon my family and I walked back down Pennsylvania Avenue. We were a proper caravan, mother bright and father brown, the three of us gir

20、ls step-standards in-between. Moved by our historical surroundings and the heat of early evening, my father decreed yet another treat. He had a sense of history, a flair for the quietly dramatic and the sense of specialness of an occasion and a trip. 后来在华盛顿的那个下午我和我的家人沿着宾夕法尼亚大道走回去。我们可以算是个严格意义上的旅行团,母亲

21、是白人、父亲是黑人,我们三个女孩介于黑白之间渐变。受历史建筑和傍 晚的炎热影响,父亲宣布去另一个地方。他有种很强的历史感,懂得制造戏剧化的场面,懂得如何让旅行变得更有趣。“Shall we stop and have a little something to cool off, Lin?“我们要停下来喝点东西降降温么,林?” Two blocks away from our hotel the family stopped for a dish of vanilla ice cream at a Breyers ice cream and soda fountain. Indoors, th

22、e soda fountain was dim and fan-cooled, deliciously relieving to my scorched eyes. 我们一家来到离旅馆两个街区远的拜尔冰激凌冷饮小卖部吃香草冰激凌。小卖部里又昏暗又凉爽很好地缓解了我焦灼的眼睛。 Corded and crisp and pinafored, the five of us seated ourselves one by one at the counter. There was I between my mother and father, and my two sisters on the ot

23、her side of my mother. We settled ourselves along the white mottled marble counter, and when the waitress spoke at first no one could understand what 我们五个衣着整洁一个挨着一个坐在的柜台边。我坐在母亲和父亲中间我的两个姐姐坐在母亲的另一边。我们沿着白色斑点的大理石柜台就坐,起先没人听明白那个女服务员说的是什么于是我们就这么坐在那。 you to take out, but you cant eat her, sorry. Then she dr

24、opped her eyes looking very embarrassed, and suddenly we heard what it was she was saying all at the same time, loud and clear. 那个女服务员朝我们走来靠近父亲再一次说我说了我可以让你们外带但是抱歉你们不能坐在这儿吃。”然后她垂下双眼看起来十分尴尬。瞬间我们同时都听到了她说了什么响亮且清楚。 Straight-backed and indignant, one by one, my family and I got down from the counter stool

25、s and turned around and marched out of the store, quiet and outraged, as if we had never been Black before. No one would answer my emphatic questions with anything other than a guilty silence. “But we hadnt done anything!”This wasnt right or fair! Hadnt I written poems about freedom and democracy fo

26、r all? 我和我的家人挺直了背、义愤填膺,一个接一个从柜台凳子上下来转身走出了小卖部,安静并愤怒着,就好像我们从来不是黑人。没有人会用除了内疚的沉默以外的什么来回答我所强调的问题。“但是我们什么都没做!”这是不正确的不公平的!难道我没有写过关于自由和民主的诗歌吗? My parents wouldnt speak of this injustice, not because they had contributed to it, but because they felt they should have anticipated it and avoided it. This made m

27、e even angrier. My fury was not going to be acknowledged by a like fury. Even my two sisters copied my parentspretense that nothing unusual and anti-American had occurred. I was left to write my angry letter to the president of the United States all by myself, although my father did promise I could

28、type it out onthe office typewriter next week, after I showed it to him in my copybook diary. 我的父母不会谈及这种歧视,不是因为他们导致了这种歧视,而是因为他们觉得他们应当预料到并且避免它。这使得我更加的生气。我的愤怒将不会被其他家庭成员所认同尽管他们同样愤怒。甚至我的两个姐姐也学着我父母假装没有什么不正常的和反美的事发生过。虽然在我给父亲看了我写在本子上的日记后他答应过我下周能用办公室的打字机但是他还是留我独自一人写抗议信寄给美国总统。The waitress was white, and the

29、counter was white, and the ice cream I never ate in Washington D.C., that summer I left childhood was white, and the white heat and the white pavement and the white stone monuments of my first Washington summer made me sick to my stomach for the whole rest of that trip and it wasnt much of a graduat

30、ion present after all. 那个女服务员是白人的,那个柜台是白色的,我从来不曾在华盛顿吃到的冰淇淋,以及我离开的童年的那个夏天是白色的,白色的热浪和白色的人行道,那个夏天我第一次华盛顿之旅看到的白色纪念碑让我在余下的整个旅程中极为恶心反胃。这次旅行实在算不上是毕业礼物。 UNIT 2 The Struggle to Be an All-American Girl Its still there, the Chinese school on Yale Street where my brother and I used to go. Despite the new coat o

31、f paint and the high wire fence, the school I knew 10 years ago remains remarkably, stoically the same. 我和哥哥过去常常去的中文学校还在耶鲁街。尽管刷了新油漆和围了高铁丝网,我十年前就熟知的这所学校仍明显没有丝毫改变。Every day at 5 P.M., instead of playing with our fourth- and fifth-grade friends or sneaking out to the empty lot to hunt ghosts and animal

32、 bones, my brother and I had to go to Chinese school. No amount of kicking, screaming, or pleading could dissuade my mother, who was solidly determined to have us learn the language of our heritage. 每天下午5 点,我和哥哥不得不去中文学校而不是和四、五年级的朋友们一起玩或溜出去到空地捉鬼寻骨。再多的乱踢,乱叫,或请求都不能劝阻我的母亲她坚决要我们学习中文。Forcibly, she walked

33、us the seven long, hilly blocks from our home to school, depositing our defiant tearful faces before the stern principal. My only memory of him is that he swayed on his heels like a palm tree, and he always clasped his impatient twitching hands behind his back. I recognized him as a repressed maniac

34、al child killer, and knew that if we ever saw his hands wed be in big trouble. 她强行把我们从家里带到学校有七个街区的路程又长又崎岖。她将面带挑衅、含着泪的我们带到严厉的校长面前。我对他的唯一记忆是他就像一棵棕榈树一样摇动,他总是将他那双不停抽搐的手紧紧扣在背后。我把他当成是一个抑郁疯狂的儿童杀手,还认为如果我们看到他的手,就会遇到大麻烦。We all sat in little chairs in an empty auditorium. The room smelled like Chinese medicine

35、, an imported faraway mustiness. Like ancient mothballs or dirty closets. I hated that smell. I favored crisp new scents. Like the soft French perfume that my American teacher wore in public school. 我们都坐在一个空旷的礼堂里的小椅子上。这房间闻起来就像中药有一股进口的遥远的腐臭。像古老的卫生球或肮脏的衣柜。我讨厌那气味。我喜爱清新的气味。就像我在公立学校的美国老师喷的轻柔的法国香水。Althoug

36、h the emphasis at the school was mainly language-speaking, reading, writing-the lessons always began with an exercise in politeness. With the entrance of the teacher, the best studentwould tap a bell and everyone would get up, kowtow, and chant, “Sing san ho,”the phonetic for “How are you, teacher?”

37、尽管在学校重点主要是语言口语、阅读、写作课程总是从练习礼貌开始。随着老师进来, 最好的那个学生会敲击铃铛,然后每个人都站起来,磕头并齐道,“先生好,“意思是“老师好。”Being ten years old, I had better things to learn than ideographs copied painstakingly in lines that ran right to left from the tip of a moc but, a real ink pen that had to be held in an awkward way if blotches were

38、to be avoided. After all, I could do the multiplication tables, name the satellites of Mars, and write reports on Little Women and Black Beauty. Nancy Drew, my favorite heroine, never spoke Chinese. 十岁的时候,我还有比象形文字更重要的东西要学而不是用毛笔痛苦地一行行地从左往右抄写汉字那是一支真正的墨水笔,必须以一种极别扭的方式拿着,才能避免弄出斑驳的痕迹。毕竟,我可以背出乘法表,说出火星的卫星的名

39、字,写关于小女人和黑美人的读后感。南茜朱尔是我最喜欢的女主人公,她从来不说汉语。The language was a source of embarrassment. More times than not, I had tried to disassociate myself from the nagging loud voice that followed me wherever I wandered in the nearby American supermarket outside Chinatown. The voice belonged to my grandmother, a f

40、ragile woman in her seventies who would outshout the best of street vendors. Her humor was raunchy, her Chinese rhythmless and patternless. It was quick, it was loud, it was unbeautiful. It was not like the quiet, lilting romance of French or the gentle refinement of the American South. Chinese soun

41、ded pedestrian. Public. 汉语对我来说是一个尴尬的来源。我曾不止一次试图让自己摆脱那喋喋不休的声音,无论我走在附近唐人街外的美国超市那声音都会一直跟着我。那声音属于我的祖母,一个脆弱的妇女却能吼出比街头小贩还响的声音。她的笑话粗俗下流,她的汉语没有韵律和花样。她语速很快,声音很大,一点儿也不优美。她的汉语不像那安静轻快而浪漫的法语或柔和精致的南美语。汉语听起来通俗、大众。In Chinatown, the comings and goings of hundreds of Chinese on their daily tasks sounded chaotic and f

42、renzied. I did not want to be thought of as mad, as talking gibberish. When I spoke English, people nodded at me, smiled sweetly, said encouraging words. Even the people in my culture would cluck and say that I?d do well in life. “My, doesn?t she move her lips fast,”they would say, meaning that I?d

43、be able to keep up with the word outside Chinatown. 进进出出数以百计的中国人在日常工作中说着汉语让唐人街听起来混乱而嘈杂。我不想被认为是在像疯子一样胡扯。当我讲英文的时候人们会对我点头微笑说一些鼓励的话。甚至和我有着相同文化背景的人都会咯咯笑着说我将来会有出息。他们会说哇她的嘴唇动的好快啊意思说我能够跟得上唐人街外面的世界。My brother was even more fanatical than I about speaking English. He was especially hard on my mother, criticiz

44、ing her, often cruelly, for her pidgin speechsmatterings of Chinese scattered like chop suey in her conversation. “It?snot ?What it is,? Mom,”he?dsay in exasperation.“It?s?What is it, what is it, what is it! Sometimes Mom might leave out an occasional “the”or “a”, or perhaps a verb of being. He woul

45、d stop her in mid-sentence: “Say it again, Mom. Say it right.”When he tripped over his own tongue, hed blame it on her: “See, Mom, its all your fault. You set a bad example.”对于说英语这件事情我哥哥比我更狂热。他对母亲尤其苛刻,经常残忍地批评她的洋泾浜口语在谈话中夹杂中文就像炒杂碎一样。他会恼羞成怒地说不是What it is,妈妈, 是What is it, what is it, what is it!”有时候母亲可能

46、偶尔会遗漏冠词,或者一个be 动词。他就会在母亲说到一半时打断她:“再说一次,妈妈。说对来每当他绊了一下舌头,他就会责怪她:“看哪,妈妈,这都是你的错。你做了一个坏榜样。”What infuriated my mother most was when my brother cornered her on her consonants, especially “r”. My father had played a cruel joke on Mom by assigning her an American name that her tongue wouldnt allow her to say

47、. No matter how hard she tried, “Ruth”always ended up “Luth”or “Roof”. 最激怒母亲的是当我哥哥逼她念辅音,尤其是“r”这个音。“我的父亲开了母亲一个残酷的玩笑给她登记了一个她根本念不出来的英文名字。不管她怎么努力,她总是把”Ruth “说成“Luth”或者“Roof”。After two years of writing with a moc but and reciting words with multiples of meanings, I finally was granted a cultural divorce.

48、 I was permitted to stop Chinese school. 用毛笔抄写了两年的拥有大量词义的汉字我的“文化分裂”终于得到了许可。我可以不用再去上中文学校了。I thought of myself as multicultural. I preferred tacos to egg rolls; I enjoyed Cinco de Mayo more than Chinese New Year. 我觉得自己是多元文化的。我更喜欢蛋卷玉米饼;我喜欢五月节胜于春节。At last, I was one of you; I wasnt one of them. 到最后,我以为自

49、己是一个美国人,而不是一个中国人。Sadly, I still am. 可悲的是,我始终都是中国人。UNIT3 A HangingIt was in Burma, a sodden morning of the rains. We were waiting outside the condemned cells, a row of sheds fronted with double bars, like small animal cages. Each cell measured about ten feet by ten and was quite bare within except fo

50、r a plank bed and a pot of drinking water. In some of them brown silent men were squatting at the inner bars, with their blankets draped round them. These were the condemned men, due to be hanged within the next week or two. 那是在缅甸，一个泡在雨水中的清晨。我们侯在死牢外面，这是一排正面安了两重铁栅栏的小房子，象关动物的小笼子。每间牢房十英尺见方，除了一张光板床和一只饮水

51、罐，里面什么东西也没有。其中有几间关着肤色棕黑、一声不响的犯人，一律裹着毯子，蹲在里层的栅栏跟前。这些都是一两周之内就会被送上绞架的死刑犯。One prisoner had been brought out of his cell. He was a Hindu, a puny wisp of a man, with a shaven head and vague liquid eyes. Six tall Indian warders were guarding him and getting him ready for the gallows. Two of them stood by w

52、ith rifles and fixed bayonets, while the others handcuffed him, passed a chain through his handcuffs and fixed it to their belts, and lashed his arms tight to his sides. They crowded very close about him, with their hands always on him in a careful, caressing grip, as though all the while feeling hi

53、m to make sure he was there. But he stood quite unresisting, yielding his arms limply to the ropes, as though he hardly noticed what was happening.一个死囚已经被带出他的牢房。这是个瘦瘦小小的印度北方人，瘦得能一把攥起来，他的头发给剃掉了，但却长着浓密的胡茬子，特别像电影里滑稽角色的那种胡子，真不敢相信这么一付小身板能长出这么大一把胡子。他眼睛里噙满泪水，但他的目光却是一片茫然。六个大个子印度籍看守围着他，替他做上绞架的准备工作。其中两位端着上了刺刀

54、的步枪站在一边，其他几位忙着给他上手铐，之后把一根链子穿过他的手铐，绑在他们自己的腰带上，他的胳膊被紧紧地绑在身体两侧。那几个人把他围得严严实实，七八只手在他身上细心地用着力，像是在爱抚他、无时无刻都要感觉到他的存在。这场景颇似几个人在对付一条活蹦乱跳的鱼，生怕它随时可能跳回水里去一般。但他只是站着，毫无反抗之意，任凭双臂被绳子摆布，似乎他根本注意不到正在发生的事情。Eight oclock struck and a bugle call floated from the distant barracks. The superintendent of the jail, who was sta

55、nding apart from the rest of us, moodily prodding the gravel with his stick, raised his head at the sound. For Gods sake hurry up, Francis, he said irritably. The man ought to have been dead by this time. Arent you ready yet? 钟敲了八响，远处兵营里响起一阵军号，若隐若现，煞是凄清。监狱长正独自站在一旁，心神不定地用手杖刺着地面的砂砾层，听见军号，他抬起头发话了。“务必得抓

56、紧了，弗兰西斯，”他不耐烦地说。“这家伙这时候早该死了。你们还没准备好吗？”Francis, the head jailer, a fat Dravidian in a white drill suit and gold spectacles, waved his black hand. Yes sir, yes sir, he bubbled. All is satisfactorily prepared. The hangman is waiting. We shall proceed. 看守长弗兰西斯，一个身着白色斜纹布制服、戴了副金边眼镜的德拉维胖子，动作夸张地举起他那只黑爪子报告。“

57、是的长官，是的长官，”他发音有点不清楚。“全部肿备好了，您会满意的。刽知手已经债等了。我们可以肘了。”Well, quick march, then. The prisoners cant get their breakfast till this jobs over. “很好，那就马上出发。这活儿不干完就没法给别的犯人开早饭。”We set out for the gallows. Two warders marched on either side of the prisoner, with their rifles at the slope; two others marched clo

58、se against him, gripping him by arm and shoulder, as though at once pushing and supporting him. The rest of us, magistrates and the like, followed behind. 于是我们动身向绞刑场进发。犯人两侧各走着两个斜端着步枪的看守，另外两个看守抓着犯人的肩膀和手臂，说不上是在推着他走还是在扶着他走。我们其他人文职人员等等，跟在队伍后面。 It was about forty yards to the gallows. I watched the bare

59、brown back of the prisoner marching in front of me. He walked clumsily with his bound arms, but quite steadily. At each step his muscles slid neatly into place, the lock of hair on his scalp danced up and down, his feet printed themselves on the wet gravel. And once, in spite of the men who gripped

60、him by each shoulder, he stepped slightly aside to avoid a puddle on the path. 到绞刑场有大约四十码远。那个犯人光着背，我看着他褐色的脊背在我前面晃动。由于胳膊被绑着，他走路的样子有点费劲，不过却很稳健，每跨出一步，他那些肌肉便优美地消失又现形，他头皮上有一绺头发飘起再荡落，他的双脚都会在潮湿的砂砾地上印下足迹。有一下他甚至不顾两边有看守架着他，脚下稍微向旁边闪了一步，以躲开路上的一个水坑。It is curious, but till that moment I had never realized what it

61、 means to destroy a healthy, conscious man. When I saw the prisoner step aside to avoid the puddle, I saw the mystery, the unspeakable wrongness, of cutting a life short when it is in full tide. This man was not dying, he was alive just as we were alive. All the organs of his body were working bowel

62、s digesting food, skin renewing itself, nails growing, tissues forming all toiling away in solemn foolery. His nails would still be growing when he stood on the drop, when he was falling through the air with a tenth of a second to live. His eyes saw the yellow gravel and the grey walls, and his brai

63、n still remembered, foresaw, reasoned reasoned even about puddles. He and we were a party of men walking together, seeing, hearing, feeling, understanding the same world; and in two minutes, with a sudden snap, one of us would be gone one mind less, one world less. 这让我有些讶异，直到这一刻我才认识到毁灭一个健康的、有意识的人意味着

64、什么。当我看到那个犯人往旁边闪了一步以躲开路上的那个水坑时，我看到了一个充满生机的生命，而这个生命即将戛然而止，这是个神秘而又无法言说的谬误。这不是一个奄奄一息的人，他活得和在场的其他人一样状态良好。他身上的所有器官都在工作：肠道在消化食物、皮肤在新陈代谢、指甲在生长、各类组织在形成所有这一切的劳碌此刻仍在进行，即便等着它们的是场一本正经的愚蠢仪式。当他站在绞架踏板上的时候，他的指甲还在生长；甚至在他坠入空气中的那十分之一秒之内，他的指甲也还在生长。他的眼中还看得见黄色的砂砾和灰色的院墙；他的大脑还有记忆力、预见力和支配力比如支配他躲开路上的水坑。他和我们同样是人类，我们走在一起，我们看到、听

65、到、感受到以及理解的是同一个世界；但是要不了两分钟，也就突然“啪”的一下，我们中间的一个就撒手人寰了少了一颗心灵，少了一个世界。The gallows stood in a small yard.The hangman, a gray-haired convict in the white uniform of the prison, was waiting beside his machine. He greeted us with a servile crouch as we entered. At a word from Francis the two warders, gripping the prisoner more closely than ever, half led, half pushed him to the gallows and helped him clumsily up the ladder. Then the hangman climbed up and fixed the rope round the prisoners neck. 绞刑场设在一个小院子里。刽子手是个头发灰白、穿白色囚服的犯人，正等在他的设备一旁，见我们进去，他赶忙跪在地上，奴颜婢膝地给我们请安。这时弗兰西斯发布了一道命令，于是押着死囚的那两个看守把他抓