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rust服务器设置倍率内容精选换一换远程登录Windows弹性云服务器后，修改分辨率设置。不同版本的Windows操作系统，操作略有差异，本节以Windows Server 标准 CCK冷凍食品專賣店. Mid Age of Dawn Skate boards. MIKE S KENNEL NEW COFFEE. NEW COME BEAUTY. NEW COME BEAUTY 美肌護理中心從可以在10分鐘內使鼻子伸直的流鼻水工作到凍結多餘脂肪的冷凍脂肪。狂野追鵝：緣木求魚Wild Goose Chase Cosmic Dawn：The Real Moment of Creation 某些青草掩映下的小路似乎穿过灌木丛通向那里；野鸽子在树林后谈论着它。 Cricketers on village greens, hay-makers in the evening sunshine, small boats that sail 結心heart: 心臟|心形的|心部sweet heart: 幸福接力棒|幸福接力|情人Crazy Heart: 瘋狂的心|狂野的心|聲聲相識. 衷心地；熱忱地；痛快地娜穿过漫漫长夜》（Anna and the Swallow Man），该书被《纽约时报》（New “这是一部狂野的神秘小说，读起来就像美国恐怖故事中最好的部分一样——曲折、扭曲、轻 ,Mission Evaluation: New Dawn,任務評估：新黎明. ,Our contribution towards the 我們不對針對模組進行任何的支援、觀察、檢視修改與風險承擔等！臺大社科院-新建大樓工程紀錄（New Building of College of Social Sciences, NTU）理論∕後現代建築∕後現代設計∕「阿基米亞工作室」∕「孟斐斯」∕狂野的八○ Let the Butterflies Spread Until the Dawn, Lisa Silverman, 假面騎士Zero-One 短動畫EVERYONE'S DAILY LIFE, Dia Horizon,

幸福 Happiness 在乡村的草地上打打板球，在傍晚的余晖下翻晒干草，迎着风浪泛一叶扁舟——所有这些都让我有幸福的幻觉，仿佛没有阴云覆盖的快乐之地，古老金色世界的一角，并非（诗人们幻想的那样）隐藏在遥远的海上或者难以企及的山巅，而就在我们伸手可及的地方，在某个无人涉足的山谷，等待我们去发现。某些青草掩映下的小路似乎穿过灌木丛通向那里；野鸽子在树林后谈论着它。 Cricketers on village greens, hay-makers in the evening sunshine, small boats that sail before the wind—all these create in me the illusion of Happiness, as if a land of cloudless pleasure, a piece of the old Golden World, were hidden, not as poets have fancied in far seas or beyond inaccessible mountains, but here close at hand, if one could find it, in some undiscovered valley. Certain grassy lanes seem to lead through the copses thither; the wild pigeons talk of it behind the woods. 今日 To-Day 今晨我自梦中醒来，回到我们所谓的现实中，回到晨光中，看到熟悉的卧房里的家具——实际上我回到的是这个尽人皆知、众人常谈的宇宙，但是在我看来，还没人能解释清楚它到底是什么。 I woke this morning out of dreams into what we call Reality, into the daylight, the furniture of my familiar bedroom—in fact into the well- known, often-discussed, but, to my mind, as yet unexplained Universe. 然后我—来自永恒似乎也终将归于永恒—起床，与往常无二般地度过一日。我读书，闲逛，抱怨，锻炼；每隔一定时间，我就准时坐在饭桌前享用准备好的饭食。 Then I, who came out of Eternity and seem to be on my way thither, got up and spent the day as I usually spend it. I read, I pottered, I complained, and took exercise; and I sat punctually down to eat the cooked meals that appeared at regular intervals. I always expect good news and cheques; and then, of course, there is the magical Fortune which is coming, and word of it may reach me any day. So, happy in the hope of Happiness, and not greatly concerned with any other interest or ambition, I live on in my quiet, ordered house; and so I shall live perhaps until the end. Is it merely the last great summons and revelation for which I am waiting? 忙碌的蜜蜂 The Busy Bees 无所事事地坐在苹果树阴下好几个小时，旁边是花园里的蜂房，那些贩蜜者在我头顶上方的空气通道里飞舞，——有时看到它们在正午的热气中为那小生意吵吵嚷嚷地奔忙，或者在余晖退去时仍然成群结队地彻夜劳动，——我一直试图从蜜蜂身上学到那关于勤劳的古老教义。 Sitting for hours idle in the shade of an apple tree, near the garden- hives, and under the aerial thoroughfares of those honey-merchants,—sometimes when the noonday heat is loud with their minute industry, or when they fall in crowds out of the late sun to their night-long labours,—I have sought instruction from the Bees, and tried to appropriate to myself the old industrious lesson. 但是，管它呢，谁就一定是老师，谁就一定是学生？那些性格暴躁、操劳过度、急功近利的昆虫们难道就不能从奇妙的我身上学点儿东西吗？从它们了无生趣的工厂里用复眼盯着我，难道这些蜜蜂最后也学不会——我最后也教不会它们——以一种更明智、更放松的方式来更好地度过这美好的时光吗？ And yet, hang it all, who by rights should be the teacher and who the learners? For those peevish, over-toiled, utilitarian insects, was there no lesson to be derived from the spectacle of Me? Gazing out at me with myriad eyes from their joyless factories, might they not learn at last—could I not finally teach them—a wiser and more generous-hearted way to improve the shining hours? 小麦 The Wheat 我在田边散步时遇到过牧师先生一两次，他说他很高兴我对农业感兴趣，只是我对小麦的感觉让他不解。 The Vicar, whom I met once or twice in my walks about the fields, told me that he was glad that I was taking an interest in farming. Only my feeling about wheat, he said, puzzled him. 我没能向牧师先生解释清楚，其实这种对小麦的感觉只是一种惊叹而已。树林那边有一片麦田，我亲眼看着那里的庄稼逐渐成熟。有一天我走了进去，那广袤无垠的金色光芒让我目眩神迷。我沐浴在蔚蓝的天空下金灿灿的麦田中；在它面前，橡树林、灌木丛以及英格兰其他所有美景全都黯然失色！我从不记得小麦有如此的光辉；也从没在书中看到过在离太阳如此遥远的国度，竟然会有如此浓烈、蓬勃、无畏的事物，好像这从地缝里喷射出的丰饶的红彤彤的金色是从地表下炙热的大地脉络里喷涌而出一般。我记得几千年来小麦一直是财富的主要形式，著名的城市和王国都囤积了大量的小麦；我想到种植小麦的过程，耕地的白牛、大谷仓、扬谷风扇、还有磨坊，里面有溅着水花的轮子、在风的吹动下缓缓转动的摇杆；我想到收获时节的麦田，日落的余晖中，或一轮弯月下，那一捆捆、一堆堆的小麦。它给北方的景色增添了怎样的美丽，又给南方带去了多少古朴、热情而又圣洁的美景啊！ Now the feeling in regard to wheat which I had not been able to make clear to the Vicar, was simply one of amazement. Walking one day into a field that I had watched yellowing beyond the trees, I was dazzled by the glow and great expanse of gold. I bathed myself in the intense yellow under the intense blue sky; how it dimmed the oak trees and copses and all the rest of the English landscape! I had not remembered the glory of the Wheat; nor imagined in my reading that in a country so far from the Sun, there could be anything so rich, so prodigal, so reckless, as this opulence of ruddy gold, bursting out from the cracked earth as from some fiery vein beneath. I remembered how for thousands of years Wheat had been the staple of wealth, the hoarded wealth of famous cities and empires; I thought of the processes of corn-growing, the white oxen ploughing, the great barns, the winnowing fans, the mills with the splash of their wheels, or arms slow-turning in the wind; of cornfields at harvest-time, with shocks and sheaves in the glow of sunset, or under the sickle moon; what beauty it brought into the northern landscape, the antique, passionate, Biblical beauty of the South! 命运的来临 The Coming Of Fate 我追寻自己思想的源泉，发现它们始于脆弱易逝的机缘巧合，源于我生命过往中闪耀着奇异光芒的瞬间。左右我在十字路口向左转还是向右转的是小小的冲动，相遇是小小的偶然，第一次将我和我的朋友牵引到一起的是轻如蛛网的细线。一切都充满了神奇；而更神秘的是那些用翅膀触碰到我、与我擦身而过的瞬间：当命运向我招手，我却没有看到，当新生活在门前短暂驻足，我却一无所知；但是话没说出口，手没伸出去，这些可能性一闪即逝，如梦境般模糊不清，终究化为乌有。 When I seek out the sources of my thoughts, I find they had their beginning in fragile Chance; were born of little moments that shine for me curiously in the past. Slight the impulse that made me take this turning at the cross-roads, trivial and fortuitous the meeting, and light as gossamer the thread that first knit me to my friend. These are full of wonder; more mysterious are the moments that must have brushed me with their wings and passed me by: when Fate beckoned and I did not see it, when new Life trembled for a second on the threshold; but the word was not spoken, the hand was not held out, and the Might-have-been shivered and vanished, dim as a dream, into the waste realms of non-existence. 所以我从未停止去体会日常生活那反复无常、充满危险的魅力，以及其中的种种邂逅、言谈和意外。也许就在今天，或者下星期，我会听到一个声音，然后就收拾好我的格莱斯顿旅行包，追随它到天涯海角。 So I never lose a sense of the whimsical and perilous charm of daily life, with its meetings and words and accidents. Why, to-day, perhaps, or next week, I may hear a voice, and, packing up my Gladstone bag, follow it to the ends of the world. Having culled from the newspapers a few phrases, I had composed a speech which I delivered with a spirit and eloquence surprising even to myself. I began to feel the meaning of my own words; I beamed on the audience, felt that they were all my brothers, all wished well to the Republic; and it seemed to me an occasion to divulge my real ideas and hopes for the Commonwealth. 我忘乎所以了，把安全原则完全抛诸脑后，我开始重塑我们的国家。大多数现有的机构不久即被废止；然后在它们的废墟上，我建立起我心目中的城市那明亮围墙和宫殿—我在柏拉图的书中读到的城市。我带着巨大的热情，以我自以为是的口才，滔滔不绝地把它全部描述出来—那些战士们，那群正值黄金年华的青年们是由国家选中的勇士和美女交欢诞下的；那些精通哲学的卫国者们，身居高位，视野广阔，因此养成了一种惯常的伟大气质，他们的意志无比坚毅，居高临下而对人类的生死漠然处之。然后我宣称这座城市的格局是在天堂里构建好的。听众已所剩无几且一头雾水，在他们的欢呼声中我坐了下来。 Brushing therefore to one side, and indeed quite forgetting my safe principles, I began to refashion and new-model the State. Most existing institutions were soon abolished; and then, on their ruins, I proceeded to build up the bright walls and palaces of the City within me—the City I had read of in Plato. With enthusiasm, and, I flatter myself, with eloquence, I described it all—the Warriors, that race of golden youth bred from the State-ordered embraces of the brave and fair; those philosophic Guardians, who, being ever accustomed to the highest and most extensive views, and thence contracting an habitual greatness, possessed the truest fortitude, looking down indeed with a kind of disregard on human life and death. And then, declaring that the pattern of this City was laid up in Heaven, I sat down, amid the cheers of the uncomprehending little audience. 巨石阵 Stonehenge1 他们一直端坐在我心的地平线上，围成一个巨石阵,长辈们带着不赞同表情的脸——叔父辈们的、校长们的、老师们的脸，他们都对着年轻的我皱眉头。 There they sit for ever around the horizon of my mind, that Stonehenge circle of elderly disapproving Faces—Faces of the Uncles, and Schoolmasters and the Tutors who frowned on my youth. 在巨石阵光明的中央，在阳光下，我蹦跳，我雀跃，我舞蹈；但当我抬起头，却看到他们并没有受骗。从来没什么能够平息他们的怒气，从来没什么能让他们阴郁苍老、充满不屑的脸上露出赞许的表情。 In the bright centre and sunlight I leap, I caper, I dance my dance; but when I look up, I see they are not deceived. For nothing ever placates them, nothing ever moves to a look of approval that ring of bleak, old, contemptuous Faces. 我的画像 My Portrait 但我毕竟不是一条变形虫，只有一个皮囊和一个胃；我能够交谈、会骑自行车、查列车时刻表；实际上我是、并能够厚着脸皮吹嘘我是人类—即自然的杰作，时光最高贵的果实—我是一个有理性、有礼貌、食肉的人。 But after all I am no amoeba, no mere sack and stomach; I am capable of discourse, can ride a bicycle, look up trains in Bradshaw, in fact I am and calmly boast myself a Human Being—that Masterpiece of Nature, and noblest fruit of time—I am a rational, polite, meat-eating Man. 怎样的星体相撞和漫天大火，怎样的洪水泛滥和杀戮，宇宙付出了多么巨大的努力才造就了我—我难道不是星体运行和宇宙过程中的王者和奇迹吗？ What stellar collisions and conflagrations, what floods and slaughters and enormous efforts has it not cost the Universe to make me—of what astral periods and cosmic processes am I not the crown, the wonder? 那么，我伟大的雕像应该安放在哪里的海滨广场或者主宰世界的阶地上；哪里的宫殿和凯旋门的景色能作我画像的背景；哪里的大理石台阶向着日出的地方延伸，且足够宽敞高贵，能让我靠着围栏尽情伸展四肢，舒服地休息？ Where, then, is the Esplanade or world-dominating Terrace for my sublime Statue; the landscape of palaces and triumphal arches for the background or my Portrait; stairs of marble, flung against the sunset, not too narrow and ignoble for me to pause with ample gesture on their balus-traded flights? But the questions that had an interest for me at that time, would no doubt have seemed to the Vicar, many of them, old and imaginary. I was too often occupied, I am afraid, with the complexities of my own thoughts; their odd travels and changes; their way of peopling English forests with wood- nymphs, or transforming English orchards—seen perhaps at dawn or in the late sunshine—into Hesperian gardens. What were the names of the nymphs Actaeon3 surprised bathing with Diana? The names of the hounds that hunted to his death that rash intruder; Ladon, Harpyia, Laelaps, Oresitrophos, as some call them; or, as they are given in other authentic books, Boreas, Omelampus, Agreus, Aretusa, Gorgo? 多里亚那个美丽古老的故事里的景色。大门两边立着华美的门柱，上面的纹章图像绘着举着贵族盾牌的野兽，凶猛、难以取悦。透过大门我能看到，在大道的尽头，有一幢房子正对着我，房子有石头壁柱，陡峭的屋顶上有栏杆。 Beyond the blue hills, within riding distance, there is a country of parks and beeches, with views of the faded, far-off sea. I remember in one of my rides coming on the place which was the scene of the pretty, old-fashioned story of Silvia Doria. The old Lord had never ceased mourning for his Lady, though she had died a good many years before; there were no neighbours he visited, and few strangers came inside the great Park walls. One day in Spring, however, just when the apple trees had burst into blossom, the gilded gates were thrown open, and a London chariot with prancing horses drove up the Avenue. And in the chariot, smiling and gay, and indeed very beautiful in her dress of yellow silk, and her great Spanish hat with drooping feathers, sat Silvia Doria, come on a visit to her cousin, the old Lord. 不管他的企图是什么，西尔维娅像春天一样，似阳光一般，来到这个孤独的地方。就连老勋爵，只要一听到她悦耳的声音在房子里响起，也感到莫名的快乐；至于亨利和弗朗西斯，只要与她并肩走在花园小径上，就犹如身在天堂了。 However this might be, Silvia Doria came like the Spring, like the sunlight, into the lonely place. Even the old Lord felt himself curiously happy when he heard her voice singing about the house; as for Henry and Francis, it was heaven for them just to walk by her side down the garden alleys. 虽然迄今为止，西尔维娅一直对伦敦那些向她大献殷勤的追求者不理不睬；但是在这里，她发现自己的心渐渐地不再无动于衷。 And Silvia Doria, though hitherto she had been but cold toward the London gallants who had courted her, found, little by little, that her heart was not untouched. 尽管她的父亲热衷于追名逐利，她自己也对金钱和地位有种少女虚荣的喜爱，她的心上人却不是亨利，也不是老勋爵，而是小儿子弗朗西斯。弗朗西斯知道她的心意吗？丑闻传开了，他们是秘密的爱人。这个丑闻可能传到了她父亲的耳朵里。 But, in spite of her father, and her own girlish love of gold and rank, it was not for Henry that she cared, not for the old Lord, but for Francis, the younger son. Did Francis know of this? 在她离开很久以后，18世纪里的许多岁月逐渐逝去，但是一切都没有变化。后来，大儿子亨利在打猎时丧生了；几年后老勋爵也死了，小儿子弗朗西斯继承了爵位、这所大房子还有所有的土地和财产。但是他父亲死后，弗朗西斯就很少呆在那幢房子里，好像对那个地方完全没有感情。他大多数时间住在国外，独自一人，一直没有结婚。 And after she had gone, a long time, many of the eighteenth-century years went by without change. And then Henry, the elder son, was killed in hunting; and the old Lord dying a few years later, the titles and the great house and all the land and gold came to Francis, the younger son. 又过去了许多年，房子周围的树木愈发高大，郁郁葱葱；无人修剪的紫杉树篱的枝叶已经遮住了小路；常春藤几乎要把那些雕像闷死；大片大片的石膏从花园里那些褪色的寺庙墙壁上剥落。 And again, many years went by. The trees grew taller and darker about the house; the yew hedges, unclipped now, hung their branches over the shadowy paths; ivy almost smothered the statues; and the plaster fell away in great patches from the discoloured garden temples. So the gates creaked open, the chariot glittered up the avenue to the deserted place; and a lady stepped out, went into the garden, and walked among its moss-grown paths and statues. And here, for a time forgetting, as it would seem, the battle, and heedless of the bullets that now and then flew past him like peevish wasps, the young Officer stayed, gathering roses—old-fashioned damask roses, streaked with red and white—which, for the sake of a Court Beauty, there besieged with her father, he carried to the house; falling, however, struck by a chance bullet, or shot perhaps by one of his own party. 星星 The Stars 一个黑夜，我顶着风雨跌跌撞撞地往家赶，突然一阵狂风袭来，比之前的风势都要强劲，我只好退回到一棵树下躲避。但是不久西方的天空裂开了，群星的光芒自逐渐散去的乌云后倾泻而出。 Battling my way homeward one dark night against the wind and rain, a sudden gust, stronger than the others, drove me back into the shelter of a tree. But soon the Western sky broke open; the illumination of the Stars poured down from behind the dispersing clouds. 看到它们的璀璨，看到它们的光芒映亮了黑夜，我赞叹不已。在星辉的陪伴下，我再度启程。大角星跟随着我，不知怎的跟一棵大树茂密的枝叶纠缠在一起，断断续续地在枝叶的缝隙中探出头来，最后终于以胜利者的姿态出现，它是西方天空中的王者。我继续赶路，身体裹在雨衣和雨鞋里，思绪却停留在星座上。我也是星光灿烂的宇宙中的一位王子，我的身上也有东西在发光，在闪烁。 I was astonished at their brightness, to see how they filled the night with their lustre. So I went my way accompanied by them; Arcturus followed me, and becoming entangled in a leafy tree, shone by glimpses, and then emerged triumphant, Lord of the Western sky. Moving along the road in my waterproof and goloshes, my thoughts were among the Constellations. I too was one of the Princes of the starry Universe; in me also there was something that blazed, that glittered. And some of them, I am told, believe in Angels—that there are Angels who guide our footsteps, and flit to and fro unseen on errands in the air about us. Such things do happen. But I could see where the wheat- bearing earth had been levelled into a terrace; and in one corner there were broken, overgrown, gateposts, almost hid among great straggling trees of box. 这就是我要来看的地方。这里曾经耸立着宏伟的房子或宫殿，周围建有露台、花园、人造池塘；这片田野曾经是18世纪风靡一时的度假胜地；公爵夫人和如云的美女们乘着镀金马车来到这里，同行的还有英国社会黄金时代的花花公子和智慧之士。虽然房子早已被夷为平地，耕犁也耕过了这片可爱的土地，但是一瞬间我仿佛看到那群妙人儿徜徉在这条大道的绿色和金色之下；仿佛听到他们用苛刻的声音窃窃私语着，一直走到阴影里。 This, then, was the place I had come to see. Here had stood the great house or palace, with its terraces, and gardens, and artificial waters; this field had once been the favourite resort of Eighteenth-century Fashion; the Duchesses and Beauties had driven hither in their gilt coaches, and the Beaux and Wits of that golden time of English Society. And although the house had long since vanished, and the plough had gone over its pleasant places, yet for a moment I seemed to see this fine company under the green and gold of that great avenue; seemed to hear the gossip of their uncharitable voices as they passed on into the shadows. 预防 A Precaution 这本书的作者认为所有的不幸都是与人类的存在不可分离的—贫穷、海难、瘟疫、饥荒、蝗灾、爱情欺骗和洪水；他充分地以哲学的观点来安慰读者。 The folio gave at length philosophic consolations for all the misadventures said by the author to be inseparable from human existence—Poverty, Shipwrecks, Plagues, Famines, Flights of Locusts, Love-Deceptions, Inundations. Should I complain against the mutability of Fortune, and impugn Fate and the Stars; or should I reprehend the never- satisfied heart of querulous Man, drawing elegant contrasts between the unsullied snow of mountains, the serene shining of the planets, and our hot, feverish lives and foolish repinings? 或者我应该与约伯一起质疑这个宇宙，苦思冥想在这个苹果状的星球上生活的意义？ Or with Job9, should I question the Universe, and puzzle my sad brains about Life—the meaning of Life on this apple-shaped Planet? 我的使命 My Mission 当我在现代书籍、评论和有深度的杂志上读到关于这个时代的需求、它的复杂问题、它的沮丧、怀疑和精神上的苦闷时，我感到一股冲动，想要到外面去抚慰这个晕头转向的时代，擦去它的泪水，止住它的喊叫，对它说些有益的话来劝慰它。 But when in modern books, reviews, and thoughtful magazines I read about the Needs of the Age, its Complex Questions, its Dismays, Doubts, and Spiritual Agonies, I feel an impulse to go out and comfort that bewildered Epoch, to wipe away its tears, still its cries, and speak edifying words of Consolation to it. 鸟 The Birds 敞开的窗户外面鸟儿啁啾鸣啼，让我怎能埋头于这项重大的工作？我听到了画眉，还有黑鸟那个浪漫的骗子的叫声；然后是柳莺唱出的婉转旋律，那尖细的下行音阶，或者黑顶莺柔曼的小调。所有这些都很熟悉；——但是那个不知名的声音，那个颤抖的音符是什么？我快步走出去；这声音在逃走，我跟随着它；当我回到房间，重新坐下开始工作，黄在闷热的正午颤抖地唱着昏昏欲睡的歌；金翅鸟低沉枯燥的歌声引我陷入如梦般的冥想。然后突然从树干和树林里的栖息地传来绿色啄木鸟的声音，他用饱含自由和笑声的粗鲁音调嘲笑我。 But how can one toil at the great task with this hurry and tumult of birds just outside the open window? All these are familiar;—but what is that unknown voice, that thrilling note? I hurry out; the voice flees and I follow; and when I return and sit down again to my task, the Yellow-hammer trills his sleepy song in the noonday heat; the drone of the Greenfinch lulls me into dreamy meditations. Then suddenly from his tree-trunks and forest recesses comes the Green Woodpecker, and mocks at me with an impudent voice full of liberty and laughter. 为什么空中所有的飞鸟都要密谋与我作对？我所关心的是我们这个悲伤物种自身，以及堕落错误的人性，而不是那个不顾及别人的、流浪的、头上长羽毛的愚蠢种族。 Why should all the birds of the air conspire against me? My concern is with our own sad Species, with lapsed and erroneous Humanity; not with that inconsiderate, wandering, feather-headed race. 高级生活 High Life 虽然那所乡间豪宅已经空了，正在出售，而且我已拿到许可证去看它，但是我还是需要鼓起我所有的勇气才能走进那扇宏伟的大门，沿着大道走到门口，然后按响门铃。我被引进门内，百叶窗收拢起来，好让阳光照进那些大房间，我悄悄地走过它们，咒骂着不诚实的好奇心，是它把我带到这个与我无关的地方。但是我受到如此礼遇，他们显然认为我可能会买下这里，我于是很快就开始相信强加在我身上的这种财富。我从读过的所有描述有钱人神秘光彩的生活的小说中（我读了上千本），幻想自己在这个宫殿中的生活。我让那些宽敞的大厅堆满闪亮的珠宝，充满喧嚣的声响；我看到女士们戴着头冠，曳地长裙擦过华丽的台阶。 Although that immense Country House was empty and for sale, and I had got an order to view it, I needed all my courage to walk through the lordly gates, and up the avenue, and then to ring the door-bell. And when I was ushered in, and the shutters were removed to let the daylight into those vast apartments, I sneaked through them, cursing the dishonest curiosity which had brought me into a place where I had no business. But I was treated with such deference, and so plainly regarded as a possible purchaser, that I soon began to believe in the opulence imputed to me. From all the novels describing the mysterious and glittering life of the Great which I had read and I have read thousands , there came to me the vision of my own existence in this palace. I filled those vast halls with the shine of jewels and stir of voices; I saw a vision of ladies sweeping in their tiaras down the splendid stairs. 但是我的灵魂，随着骄傲的膨胀，很快超过了那微不足道的界限。哦不！我绝对不能住到那个奢华的别墅里，我会大肆炫耀的。 But my Soul, in her swell of pride, soon outgrew these paltry limits. Oh no! Never could I box up and house under that roof the Pomp, the Ostentation of which I was capable. 于是我借机推托说，有一件事我无法接受，这里的马厩只能养四十匹马；这一点，当然，就像我告诉他们的，绝对不行。 Then for one thing there was stabling for only forty horses; and this, of course, as I told them, would never do. 空壳 Empty Shells 它们像空的贝壳一样躺在时间的海滩上。人类的精神曾经为了自己的居所建造了这些古老的世界，然后又把它们抛弃。希腊人和希伯来人心中那些以地球为中心、苍穹为外壳的小宇宙，在我们看来相当古怪有趣。我们经过不断思索，构造出我们居于其中的这个无边无际的现代宇宙体系——这个巨大的花岗岩构成的物体，按照无法衡量的比例构建出来，由如此无情的机制驱动，它有时甚至吓到它的创造者们。巨大太阳的快速旋转震慑住我们；计算恒星间距离的问题令我们绞尽脑汁。 They lie like empty sea-shells on the shores of Time, the old worlds which the spirit of man once built for his habitation, and then abandoned. Those little earth-centred, heaven-encrusted universes of the Greeks and Hebrews seem quaint enough to us, who have formed, thought by thought from within, the immense modern Cosmos in which we live—the great Creation of granite, planned in such immeasurable proportions, and moved by so pitiless a mechanism, that it sometimes appals even its own creators. The rush of the great rotating Sun daunts us; to think to the distance of the fixed stars cracks our brains. 但若想象出这些永恒领域和空间的那些朝生暮死的生命不得不像外星人一样生活在这片冰冻的广阔天地之中，那么在那些宏伟的大厅里会有怎样辉煌的景象为他展开，发出炫目的光芒！任何稍有界限的东西现在都将变成监牢；他甚至敢于越过自己的界限去思考，妄想有一天他会膨胀到这个陵墓之外，并丢弃这个物质产物，因为它不足以容纳他桀骜不驯的头脑。 But if the ephemeral Being who has imagined these eternal spheres and spaces must dwell almost as an alien in their icy vastness, yet what a splendour lights up for him and dazzles in those great halls! Anything less limitless would be now a prison; and he even dares to think beyond their boundaries, to surmise that he may one day outgrow this Mausoleum, and cast from him the material Creation as an integument too narrow for his insolent Mind. 窗前 At The Window 但随后我拉开窗帘，看向窗外。是的，外面还是，那个古老的外在世界，显然它还是没怎么意识到自己并不存在。我在它面前像小男孩一样无助：我没法发出嘘声把它赶走。 But then I drew up the curtain and looked out of the window. Yes, there it still was, the old External World, still apparently quite unaware of its own non-existence. 但是身处西方的我们相信，上帝纯粹是一时兴起才用他无所不能的力量创造了这个世界；完工时他拍拍手，宣布这样很好，就是他想要的样子。 But we in the West believe that God created the world in the pure caprice of his superabundant omnipotence; that he clapped his hands when he finished it, and declared that it was very good, and just what he wanted. 晕眩 Vertigo 不！我不喜欢；我不认可；我一直认为，像我们这样严肃又有道德感的思想者竟然这样有失体面地在空间之中匆忙奔跑，是一件非常遗憾的事情。到了这样的年纪，我竟然跟我的参考书、被褥和热水瓶一起，以每秒19英里的不可思议的速度被扔过天际？正如我所说的，我一点都不喜欢它。这个似巨大陀螺般旋转的宇宙让我有点头晕脑胀。 No! Is it seemly that I, at my age, should be hurled with my books of reference, and bed- clothes, and hot-water bottle, across the sky at the unthinkable rate of nineteen miles a second? This universe of astronomical whirligigs makes me a little giddy. 上帝竟然把他不朽的时间花在让无数个太阳系保持旋转上，他本来该做些更有意义的事情。但他却嬉笑着，像个大孩子般，手里拿着各色陀螺玩具—这难道不是个严重的丑闻吗？我想知道我们所有旋转着的一神论者们对此到底作何感想？ That God should spend His eternity—which might be so much better employed—in spinning countless Solar Systems, and skylarking, like a great child, with tops and teetotums—is not this a serious scandal? I wonder what all our circumgyrating Monotheists really do think of it? 邪恶的眼睛 The Evil Eye 微弱到感觉不出的风带着我的小船驶过河口的浅水，我躺在船上，陷入关于纯粹的存在的梦境。冰凉的河水穿过我垂下的手指；我俯下身，看着沙子在身下滑过，水草随着小船的晃动而无力地摇摆。我是冰凉的河水，我是滑动的沙子和摇摆的水草，我是大海、天空、太阳，我是整个广阔的宇宙。 Drawn by the unfelt wind in my little sail over the shallow estuary, I lay in my boat, lost in the dream of mere existence. I was the cool water, I was the gliding sand and the swaying weed, I was the sea and sky and sun, I was the whole vast Universe. 突然在我的眼睛和布满沙子的河底之间，一张脸的倒影向上看着我，漂浮在我滑过的那片没有波纹的水面上。那张不怀好意、恶鬼般的一张脸，我再熟悉不过了；他只朝我看了一眼，我那深不可测的灵魂就像一只被扎破的气球般土崩瓦解。我伤心地缩回我那被确定的人格中，坐在我的小船上，邋遢、燥热、对自己非常不耐烦。 Suddenly between my eyes and the sandy bottom a mirrored face looked up at me, floating on the smooth film of water over which I glided. At one look from that too familiar, and yet how sinister and goblin a face, my immeasurable soul collapsed like a wrecked balloon; I shrank sadly back into my named personality, and sat there, shabby, hot, and very much bored with myself in my little boat. 不满足 Dissatisfaction 我厌恶蜘蛛，就一个原因：我厌恶大多数昆虫。它们冷冰冰的智力，它们老套的、孜孜不倦的劳作让我恶心。而我对人类的未来也不乐观。当我想到地球的冷冻、太阳系的最终崩溃，心中便充满了沉重的忧虑。所有我读过又忘掉的书——想到我的头脑真的像筛子一样空空如也——这也常常让我心烦意乱。 For one thing I hate spiders: I hate most kinds of insects. Their cold intelligence, their stereotyped, unremitting industry repel me. And I am not altogether happy about the future of the human race. And all the books I have read and Forgotten—the thought that my mind is really nothing but an empty sieve—often this, too, disconcerts Me. I accept the common lot. I always answer Pazienza! In Italian—abbia la santa Pazienza! 幻想 A Fancy 另外，不止一次，我想到某些地方有我的知己会喜欢这本非同时代的小书，就会高兴起来。这些思想（如果我可以这样叫它们）提炼自一连串的幻想，或者来自某种无法解释的燃烧过程中产生的荧光。它们在我头骨里那一大团柔软的灰色物质上闪烁。 More than once, too, I have pleased myself with the notion that somewhere there is good Company which will like this small uncontemporaneous Book—these Thoughts if I may call them so dipped up from that phantasmagoria or phosphorescence which, by some unexplained process of combustion, flickers over the large lump of gray soft matter in the bowl of my skull. 他们 They 他们品味高雅；他们住在帕拉弟奥风格的房子里，一个有着象牙和珍贵瓷器、古老的砌砖和石头壁柱的世界。我在白色的客厅里或者常有鸟儿飞落的蓝色草坪上见到他们。他们愉快地谈到我，眼睛看着我。我不再看这个世界映照出的那个被贬低的、可笑的自我，为了舒适、为了幸福，我转向那些亲切的眼睛中映出的我的形象。 Their taste is exquisite; They live in Palladian houses, in a world of ivory and precious china, of old brickwork and stone pilasters. In white drawing- rooms I see Them, or on blue, bird-haunted lawns. They talk pleasantly of me, and Their eyes watch me. From the diminished, ridiculous picture of myself which the glass of the world gives me, I turn for comfort, for happiness to my image in the kindly mirror of those eyes. 他们是谁？在哪里，在什么样的天堂或宫殿里我能找到他们？可能我走过世界上所有的街道，按响所有的门铃，也永远找不到他们。但是对我有价值的只有他们赞许的王冠；为了他们的到来——这永远也不会发生——我建造、种植，只是为了他们，我悄悄写出这本书，然而他们永远都不会读到。 Who are They? Where, in what paradise or palace, shall I ever find Them? I may walk all the streets, ring all the door-bells of the World, but I shall never find Them. Yet nothing has value for me save in the crown of Their approval; for Their coming—which will never be—I build and plant, and for Them alone I secretly write this Book, which They will never read. Then I might refresh them with high and incomprehensible doctrines, beyond the reach of Reason—Predestination, Election, Reprobation, the Co-existences and Co-eternities of the undemonstrable Triad. And with what a holy vehemence would I exclaim and cry out against all forms of doctrinal Error—all the execrable hypotheses of the great Heresiarchs! Then there would be many ancient, learned and out of the way Iniquities to denounce, and splendid, neglected Virtues to inculcate—Apostolic Poverty, and Virginity, that precious jewel, that fair garland, so prized in Heaven, but so rare, it is said, on earth. 因为这是教义和道德范畴内的巅峰，在我心中闪耀着特殊的光彩：啊！如果我是一个牧师，我会带领我的羊群到那明亮的阿尔卑斯山上去放牧。 For in the range of creeds and morals it is the highest peaks that shine for me with a certain splendour: Ah! 商队 Caravans 在撒哈拉的地平线上总有骆驼商队在无声无息地行进，骆驼拖着长着肉垫的脚缓慢地穿越沙漠，直到我思绪的尽头，渐行渐远，终于消失不见。 Always over the horizon of the Sahara move those soundless caravans of camels, swaying with their padded feet across the desert, till in the remoteness of my mind they fade away, and vanish. He spoke of the various professions; mentioned contemporaries of his own who had achieved success: how one had a Seat in Parliament, would be given a Seat in the Cabinet when his party next came in; another was a Bishop with a seat in the House of Lords; a third was a Barrister who was soon, it was said, to be raised to the Bench. 但是尽管我有美好的愿望，真的希望趁着还来得及，为我自己找到一个这样或那样的职业（这个问题变得严肃起来了），我却受那些荒谬的形象影响太深。前座议席、主教、法官、议员——难道这就是，我问我自己，中年人真心想要实现的雄心壮志的全部内容吗？ But in spite of my good intentions, my real wish to find, before it is too late, some career or other for myself and the question is getting serious , I am far too much at the mercy of ludicrous images, Front Seats, Episcopal, Judicial, Parliamentary Benches—were all the ends then, I asked myself, of serious, middle-aged ambition only things to sit on? 在哪里？ Where? 它是在南太平洋的某个岛屿上，还是在沙漠和荒山中遥远的绿洲上；又或只在中国诗人描绘的、那宏伟而又冷清的月宫之外那些不朽的花园里？ Does it dwell in some island of the South Seas, or far oasis among deserts and gaunt mountains; or only in those immortal gardens pictured by Chinese poets beyond the great, cold palaces of the Moon? I quite forgot to whom I was talking; the Moralist within ceased to function; my memory was full with the names of people who had been famous for their enormous pleasures; who had filled their palaces with guilty revels, and built Pyramids, Obelisks, and half-acre Tombs, to soothe their Pride. My mind kindled at the thought of these Audacities. What do they say they are? We were looking up at the Stars, which were quivering that night in splendid hierarchies above the lawns and trees. 我尝试向她解释一些人们持有的关于星的说法。人们最初不过是把它们当作插在天空中的蜡烛，在太阳落山后指引他们的脚步。后来智者坐在迦勒底平原上，用饱经风霜的双眼观察星辰，震惊并庄严地指出，那些寂静的闪烁的光是上帝旨意的执行者，是上帝盛怒不可抵挡的工具；它们在天上的居所之间按照命定的轨迹运行，规定和安排每个种族新生的个体的幸与不幸。所以那时人们相信，每个男人或女人，从襁褓时起，就有某颗伟大的星星，支持或者阻碍他或她，可能是南鱼座，也可能是雄牛座、牵牛星。而伟大的英雄和王子则与更辉煌的星有关，他们带领着天上的星座军队出兵，去进行那些已被世人遗忘的战斗。 So I tried to explain some of the views that have been held about the stars. And so it was believed that every man or woman had, from the cradle, fighting for or against him or her, some great Star, Formalhaut, perhaps, Aldebaran, Altair: while great Heroes and Princes were more splendidly attended, and marched out to their forgotten battles with troops and armies of heavenly Constellations. 但是现在人们已经不再相信这个古老而高贵的观点了；人们不再把星看作恶意或善意的力量。我解释道，很多严肃的人认为在苍穹之上某个地方—虽然他们说不出这个地方到底在哪里—会找到真诚的男人和女人的最终归宿。在那里，作为对他们正确观点和行为的奖赏，他们会戴着华丽的皇冠，上面镶嵌着夜空中星光璀璨的钻石，永远幸福快乐。然而，这个说法受到诗人们和爱侣们的质疑：这些年轻的天文学家认为，是爱情驱动着太阳和其他星球；星座是天上的宫殿，相互倾心的人死后会在那里相遇并永远生活在一起。 But this noble old view was not believed in now, the Stars were no longer regarded as malignant or beneficent Powers; and I explained how most serious people thought that somewhere—though just where they could not say—above the vault of Sky, was to be found the final home of earnest men and women, where, as a reward for their right views and conduct, they were to rejoice forever, wearing those diamonds of the starry night arranged in glorious crowns. This notion, however, had been disputed by Poets and Lovers: it was Love, according to these young astronomers, that moved the Sun and other Stars; the Constellations being heavenly palaces, where people who had adored each other were to meet and live always together after Death. 然后我谈到现代对广袤无垠的无法想象的天空的看法。但是突然之间我话语中那广阔的意义冲入脑海；我感到自己逐渐缩小，从这片碧蓝中坠落。然而，顺从宇宙对万物的安排，在那个时刻，我没有感到对死亡和虚无的恐惧，只有对这个世界的感受和喜悦，这个果园般的地球，不知飘向哪里，带着她的月球和草地逐渐远离。 Then I spoke of the modern immensity of the unimaginable Skies. But suddenly the vast meaning of my words rushed into my mind; I felt myself dwindling, falling through the blue. And yet, in that pause of acquiescence in the universal scheme of things there thrilled through me no chill of death or nothingness, but the taste and joy of this Earth, this orchard-plot of earth, floating unknown, and very far away with her Moon and her meadows. And all around the Map I coiled the coils, and curled the curling waves of the great Sea Oceanus, with the bursting cheeks of the four Winds, blowing from the four hinges of the World. It was an exhibition that made me blush, feel that I had no right to be there. 洋洋自得 The Snob 我与称心的同伴在露台上漫步时，感觉自己是上帝的选民，受到优待，一种奇异的喜悦油然而生。空气中飘荡着一种魅力，那一刻有种特别的味道，这其中有种东西像是救赎的意识，又像是洒满阳光的墙头上成熟的桃子的清香。 As I paced in fine company on that terrace, I felt chosen, exempt, and curiously happy. There was glamour in the air, a something in the special flavour of that moment that was like the consciousness of Salvation, or the smell of ripe peaches on a sunny wall. And, after all, why not let oneself be dazzled and enchanted? Are not illusions pleasant, and is this a world in which Romance hangs, so to speak, on every tree? 你自己的生活又如何呢？是否也充满了美好的景象？ And how about your own life? Is that, then, so full of golden visions? 伙伴 Companions 我最亲爱、最漂亮、最甜美的随从，你细心而勤劳地收集片片丝绸，从寒冷阴郁的世界赶来，为昏睡的我铺设舒适的栖息之所；你在我耳边甜言蜜语，或是举着骗人的镜子轻快地从我面前走过——我最爱的到底是希望，还是虚荣呢？ Dearest, prettiest, and sweetest of my retinue, who gather with delicate industry bits of silk and down from the bleak world to make the soft nest of my fatuous repose; who ever whisper honeyed words in my ear, or trip before me holding up deceiving mirrors—is it Hope, or is it not rather Vanity, that I love the best? 欲望 Desires 我的这些细腻可笑的幻想——一点好奇，一点贪婪，一点想要亲吻、触碰、抢夺的冲动，还有像灌木丛中的鸟儿一样在我心中筑巢和歌唱的所有虚荣和不加掩饰的欲望——所有这些，我们现在被告知，是从人类出现之前的过去继承来的，是很久以前在远古的沼泽和森林中孵化出来的。但是这又怎么样呢? 我喜欢分享飞禽走兽无言的快乐，感受我的生活从深植在自然的土壤的根部吸取汁液。我为那些眼睛明亮、皮毛覆身、四脚的或者披着鳞片的祖先骄傲，完全不为我的表亲——猿猴、孔雀和身披斑纹的老虎感到羞耻。 These exquisite and absurd fancies of mine—little curiosities, and greedinesses, and impulses to kiss and touch and snatch, and all the vanities and artless desires that nest and sing in my heart like birds in a bush—all these, we are now told, are an inheritance from our pre-human past, and were hatched long ago in very ancient swamps and forests. But what of that? I like to share in the dumb delights of birds and animals, to feel my life drawing its sap from roots deep in the soil of Nature. I am proud of those bright-eyed, furry, four-footed or scaly progenitors, and not at all ashamed of my cousins, the Apes and Peacocks and streaked Tigers. So I toil and toil on at the vain task of edification, though the wind tears off the tiles, the floors give way, the ceilings fall, strange birds build untidy nests in the rafters, and owls hoot and laugh in the tumbling chimneys. 玫瑰 The Rose 那位老妇人总是为她花园里的玫瑰树感到骄傲，而且总喜欢讲它是怎样从剪下的一条小枝长成现在的样子，那是多年前她刚结婚时从意大利带回来的。那时她和她的丈夫乘马车从那不勒斯（那是在有火车之前）回英国，在锡耶纳南边的一条颠簸的小路上马车坏了，他们只好在路边的一间小房子里过夜。住宿条件当然很恶劣；她一夜没合眼，早早起床，披上衣服站在窗边看着破晓的景色，凉爽的微风吹拂着她的脸颊。这么多年过去了，她仍然记得那皎洁的月亮悬在青山之上，远处山峰上的一座小镇逐渐变得越来越白，直到月亮完全隐去，山峰被初升的太阳抹上一抹粉红；突然一束亮光照亮了村庄，一扇又一扇窗户捕捉到、反射出太阳的光芒，直到最后整个小城在空中闪烁，像是星星的巢穴。 The old lady had always been proud of the great rose-tree in her garden, and was fond of telling how it had grown from a cutting she had brought years before from Italy when she was first married. She and her husband had been travelling back in their carriage from Naples it was before the time of railways , and on a bad piece of road south of Sienna they had broken down, and had been forced to pass the night in a little house by the roadside. The accommodation was wretched of course; she had spent a sleepless night, and rising early had stood, wrapped up, at her window, with the cool air blowing on her face, to watch the dawn. 他们发现要等马车修好了才能重新上路，于是那天早晨，他们乘坐当地的公共马车去了那座山上的小城，别人告诉他们那里的住宿条件要好些。他们在那儿呆了两三天。这是意大利许多小城里的一座。这座小城有高耸的教堂、一个名不副实的广场、几条狭窄的街道、几座小城堡，紧凑而又完整地坐落在山顶上，周围是一圈围墙，整个空间比一个英国的菜园大不了多少。但是这里生机勃勃、熙熙攘攘，日日夜夜回响着人们的脚步声和说话声。 Finding they would have to wait while their carriage was being repaired, they had driven that morning, in a local conveyance, up to the city on the mountain, where they had been told they would find better quarters; and there they had stayed two or three days. It was one of the miniature Italian cities with a high church, a pretentious piazza, a few narrow streets and little palaces, perched, all compact and complete, on the top of a mountain, within an enclosure of walls hardly larger than an English kitchen garden. But it was full of life and noise, echoing all day and all night with the sounds of feet and voices. He was the last of his family, the waiter added—they had once been great and rich people—but he had no descendants; in fact the waiter mentioned with complacency, as if it were a story on which the locality prided itself, that the Conte had been unfortunate in love, and had never married. 然而，这位老绅士看起来很开心；很明显，他对这对陌生人产生了兴趣，希望能够结识他们。那位友好的侍者马上为他们做了引见；他们聊了一会儿，老人邀请他们参观他就在小镇城墙外的别墅和花园。于是，第二天下午，当太阳开始落山，他们透过门窗瞥见青色的阴影逐渐覆盖了棕色的山峰时，他们就出发去往老人的家了。老人的家地方不大，是一幢现代风格的灰泥小别墅，有一座铺满砾石的花园，热气腾腾的花园里面，石头水池里养着几条懒洋洋的金鱼，靠墙立着戴安娜和她的猎犬的雕像。但是赋予这里光彩的是一棵巨大的玫瑰树，它爬到了屋顶上，几乎完全挡住了窗户，空气里弥漫着玫瑰甜美的香气。是的，这棵玫瑰树很不错，他们称赞它时伯爵骄傲地说，而且他还要告诉夫人关于这棵树的故事。当他们坐下来品尝伯爵提供的葡萄酒时，他以老者惯有的毫不在乎的愉快口吻略微提及了他的恋爱经历，好像理所当然地认为他们已经听说过这个故事了。 The old gentleman, however, seemed cheerful enough; and it was plain that he took an interest in the strangers, and wished to make their acquaintance. This was soon effected by the friendly waiter; and after a little talk the old man invited them to visit his villa and garden which were just outside the walls of the town. So the next afternoon, when the sun began to descend, and they saw in glimpses through doorways and windows blue shadows spreading over the brown mountains, they went to pay their visit. It was not much of a place, a small, modernized, stucco villa, with a hot pebbly garden, and in it a stone basin with torpid gold fish, and a statue of Diana and her hounds against the wall. But what gave a glory to it was a gigantic rose-tree which clambered over the house, almost smothering the windows, and filling the air with the perfume of its sweetness. Yes, it was a fine rose, the Conte said proudly when they praised it, and he would tell the signora about it. And as they sat there, drinking the wine he offered them, he alluded with the cheerful indifference of old age to his love affair, as though he took for granted that they had heard of it already. I was a young man then, for it was many years ago. I used to ride over to see her, it was a long way, but I rode fast, for young men, as no doubt the signora knows, are impatient. But the lady was not kind, she would keep me waiting, oh, for hours; and one day when I had waited very long I grew very angry, and as I walked up and down in the garden where she had told me she would see me, I broke one of her roses, broke a branch from it; and when I saw what I had done, I hid it inside my coat—so—; and when I came home I planted it, and the signora sees how it has grown. If the signora admires it, I must give her a cutting to plant also in her garden; I am told the English have beautiful gardens that are green, and not burnt with the sun like ours. The town collected to see them depart, and the children ran after their carriage through the gate of the little city. They heard a rush of feet behind them for a few moments, but soon they were far down toward the valley; the little town with all its noise and life was high above them on its mountain peak. 她把那株玫瑰枝种在家里，它枝繁叶茂、生机勃勃；每年六月，繁茂的树叶和枝芽生发出来，散发出浓烈的香气，绽开深红的花朵，仿佛它的根茎依然燃烧着那位意大利情人的愤怒和未能实现的渴望。当然，这位老妇人说（这些玫瑰已经伴她度过了六十个春秋），老伯爵肯定过世很久了；她忘了他的名字，忘了她住过的那个小山城的名字，第一次见到它是在黎明时分，它在天空中闪烁，像是星星的巢穴。 She had planted the rose at home, where it had grown and flourished in a wonderful manner; and every June the great mass of leaves and shoots still broke out into a passionate splendour of scent and crimson colour, as if in its root and fibres there still burnt the anger and thwarted desire of that Italian lover. Of course, said the old lady who had outlived sixty generations of these roses , the old Conte must have died long ago; she had forgotten his name, and had even forgotten the name of the mountain city that she had stayed in, after first seeing it twinkling at dawn in the sky, like a nest of stars. 你是另一个源头— Tu Quoque Fontium— 坐在阳光里，像一只动物一样接受着太阳高温的炙烤——这是我在乡间的一种消遣。这时我总是反思：世上这么多人已归于尘土，而我还能活着坐在这里，还能享受这和煦的、极好的阳光，这是多么美好的事啊。 Just to sit in the Sun, to bask like an animal in its heat—this is one of my country recreations. And often I reflect what a thing after all it is, still to be alive and sitting here, above all the buried people of the world, in the kind and famous sunshine. 果园的那一边有一条小溪，溪水急匆匆地从桥下流过，汇成了一个安静的水潭。潭边山毛榉树的绿色身影映在碧蓝的池水中；当我厌倦了太阳，这个伟大的、闪耀的、对万物一视同仁的太阳，我可以退到树阴下，读一本书。我听着溪水美妙的歌声，为它起了各种别致的名字：银色小清泉、苔藓镶边儿溪、小仙女出没地；还随口许下诺言，要让它在世界闻名的喷泉和水潭中占有一席之地，让它成为被放逐到阳光灼射下的东方沙漠中的英国人心中一抹清凉的绿色。 Beyond the orchard there is a place where the stream, hurrying out from under a bridge, makes for itself a quiet pool. A beech-tree upholds its green light over the blue water; and there, when I have grown weary of the Sun, the great glaring undiscriminating Sun, I can shade myself and read my book. 蜘蛛 The Spider 我要将它比作什么呢，这个我称之为我的头脑的奇妙的东西？把它比作废纸篓、被渣滓堵塞的筛子，还是漂浮着泡沫和废物的木桶？ What shall I compare it to, this fantastic thing I call my Mind? To a waste-paper basket, to a sieve choked with sediment, or to a barrel full of floating froth and refuse? And at its geometric centre, pondering for ever the Problem of Existence, sits motionless and spider-like the uncanny Soul. Where are your great scholars, statesmen? Trivia: or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London. Sometimes it seems to me as if I were following a Bird, a bright Bird which sings divinely as it floats about from one place to another. 然而，当我混杂在信仰坚定的中年人中间，看着他们按时去上班—是什么让他们保持这种状态？我很好奇。然后我为自己和我的飞鸟感到羞愧。 When I find myself, however, among persons of middle age and steady principles, see them moving regularly to their offices—what keeps them going? I wonder. And then I feel ashamed of myself and my Bird. 然而有一种哲学学说—我上大学的时候研究过，而且我知道许多严肃的人相信它——坚信所有人，无论看起来怎样，无论如何自诩，都是为了享乐而活。这个理论无疑拉近了我和权威的、可敬的人之间的距离。的确，我有时带着一种低劣的同谋意识注视着一位主教。这是否也是神圣的呢，在追求享乐的过程中郑重其事地追求他的飞鸟？ There is though a Philosophic Doctrine—I studied it at College, and I know that many serious people believe it—which maintains that all men, in spite of appearances and pretensions, all live alike for Pleasure. This theory certainly brings portly, respected persons very near to me. Indeed, sometimes with a sense of low complicity I have watched a Bishop. Was that Divine, too, on the hunt for Pleasure, solemnly pursuing his Bird? 在银行 At The Bank 我镇定自若地走进银行，取出一张支票，从小窗口把它递给出纳员。然后我密切地观察着他。那个精明的人难道看不出我正在冒充一个真正的人吗？不，他平静地打开一个小抽屉，拿出一些真正的金币，仔细点了一遍，把它们放在一把黄铜铲子里递给我。我离开柜台，感觉好像刚刚进行了一场诈骗，心情愉快。我得到了这个真实世界上的一些黄金！ Entering the Bank in a composed manner, I drew a cheque and handed it to the cashier through the grating. Then I eyed him narrowly. Would not that astute official see that I was posing as a Real Person? No; he calmly opened a little drawer, took out some real sovereigns, counted them carefully, and handed them to me in a brass shovel. I went away feeling I had perpetrated a delightful fraud. I had got some of the gold of the actual world! 然而不时地，我看到自己的名字出现在访客卡上，我的脸与其他面孔一起出现在照片上，或是看到我亲手写下姓名地址的信，听到我自己的声音；在这个神秘人士的面前我变得很害羞。而这个神秘人士就是我自己，他拥有我的名字，而且显然存在于世上。我是否能像所有人一样真实，是否所有人——银行里的出纳员和银行家，王位上的国王——都觉得自己是这个可靠的世界上的鬼魂和精灵？ Yet now and then, at the sight of my name on a visiting card, or of my face photographed in a group among other faces, or when I see a letter addressed in my hand, or catch the sound of my own voice, I grow shy in the presence of a mysterious Person who is myself, is known by my name, and who apparently does exist. Can it be possible that I am as real as any one, and that all of us—the cashier and banker at the Bank, the King on his throne all feel ourselves ghosts and goblins in this authentic world? The love of it is denounced in all Sacred Writings; we find it reprehended on Chaldean bricks, and in the earliest papyri. Buddha, Confucius, Christ, set their faces against it; and they have been followed in more modern times by beneficed Clergymen, Sunday School4 Teachers, and the leaders of the Higher Thought. But have all the condemnations of all the Saints and Sages done anything to tarnish that bright lustre? 虽然我读过许多有关道德的书籍，我必须说，我确实希望口袋里能有点这种俗气的东西。它的存在让我振奋，给我安慰，使一股宜人的温暖涌遍我全身。一看到它的光芒我就眉开眼笑；它的声响在我听来仿佛乐音飘飘。既然这样一来我就在为它服务，收取它的酬金，并对它的慷慨施舍来者不拒，那么我便也居住在玛门的宅邸里了。我在偶像面前折腰，品尝世俗的狂喜滋味。 In spite of all my moral reading, I must say I do like to have some of this gaudy substance in my pocket. Its presence cheers and comforts me, diffuses a genial warmth through my body. My eyes rejoice in the shine of it; its clinquant sound is musical in my ears. Since I then am in his paid service, and reject none of the doles of his bounty, I too dwell in the House of Mammon. I bow before the Idol, and taste the unhallowed ecstasy. 多少神坛被推翻，多少宗教信仰和神圣的梦想被扫地出门，而他一直坐在那儿，一个伟大的神，金灿灿的，满是装饰，安稳地坐在他那坚固的宝座上。 How many Altars have been thrown down, and how many Theologies and heavenly Dreams have had their bottoms knocked out of them, while He has sat there, a great God, golden and adorned, secure on His unmoved throne? 表象和事实 Appearance And Reality 毫无目的地在清晨的阳光下漫步，在夏日的街头闲逛，是非常惬意的事情。 It is pleasant to saunter out in the morning sun and idle along the summer streets with no purpose. 但是真的是这样吗？ But is it Right? 我并不真的为这些问题烦心—这些道德和哲学的古老谜题埋伏在伦敦街角处，突然袭击我。我已经习惯了；这个所有问题中最难以解决的，形而上学最大的缺陷，地球上最聪明的头脑也感到困惑的问题，已经是我的老朋友了。什么是现实？我几乎每天都问自己：客观世界如何存在，不受我的认识的摆布，在半空中呈现出实体？街道和天空，警察和漫步者还有坚硬的人行道，它们不过是头脑中的假设和虚构，还是当我不再看它们的时候，依然永恒地、庄严地存在在那里？ I am not really bothered by these Questions—the hoary old puzzles of Ethics and Philosophy, which lurk around the London corners to waylay me. I have got used to them; and the most formidable of all, the biggest bug of Metaphysics, the Problem which nonplusses the wisest heads on this Planet, has become quite a familiar companion of mine. What is Reality? I ask myself almost daily: how does the External World exist, materialized in mid-air, apart from my perceptions? This show of streets and skies, of policemen and perambulators and hard pavements, is it nothing more than a mere hypothesis and figment of the Mind, or does it remain there, permanent and imposing, when I stop looking at it? 我漫步在皮卡迪利大街或邦德大街上时，经常愉快地想到贝克莱的观念，他认为物质并不存在，这个看似坚固的世界只是观念，只是表象—我在一个巨大的思想泡沫里，一个漂浮的、透明的、乳白色的梦里，轻轻穿越空间。 Often, as I saunter along Piccadilly or Bond Street, I please myself with the Berkeleian5 notion that Matter has no existence, that this so solid-seeming World is all idea, all appearance—that I am carried soft through space inside an immense Thought-Bubble, a floating, diaphanous, opal-tinted Dream. 虽然我不时会接到聚会的邀请，有时也会去参加，但我发现，事实上，还是在窗户边看向里面让我更快乐，我自己有一种看待世界的方式。夏日的夜晚，当疾驰的汽车穿越暮色，一栋栋房子浮现出神秘莫测的期待的气质，我在黄昏中出发，向着西边闲逛，在不熟悉的街道上迷了路—陌生的狂欢作乐的城市。每当大门打开，一位佩戴钻石的女士踩着脸上铺粉的男仆铺好的地毯走向她的轿车时，我很容易想到她是一位有名的交际花，或是某个令人将信将疑的公爵夫人，正匆匆赶赴牌桌、烛台以及奇特的欢乐场合。我喜欢看到仍然有光彩照人的人存在于这片沉闷的土地上；开舞会时，我站在街道上的人群之中，音乐、灯光、匆匆过往的人声，都在我心中荡起涟漪。在我眼中，女士们就像星星一样美丽动人，她们走上灯光灿烂的道路，进入那些宫殿；年轻男士看起来像小说里的王侯；如果（这样的事发生过一两次）我认识的人经过我身旁，他们的变化和专注的神态让我如此吃惊，完全超出了我的想象。在炎热的夜晚，我可以透过打开的窗户，看到晚宴的情况。我透过蕾丝窗帘和窗口的花朵，看到银器、女人的肩膀、她们佩戴的宝石的光芒、她们俯身倾听时动人的姿态，这时我会想象出离奇的密谋、闻所未闻的美酒和激情。 Now though I do go sometimes to the parties to which I am now and then invited, I find, as a matter of fact, that I get really much more pleasure by looking in at windows, and have a way of my own of seeing the World. And of summer evenings, when motors hurry through the late twilight, and the great houses take on airs of inscrutable expectation, I go owling out through the dusk; and wandering toward the West, lose my way in unknown streets—an unknown City of revels. And when a door opens and a bediamonded Lady moves to her motor over carpets unrolled by powdered footmen, I can easily think her some great Courtezan, or some half-believed-in Duchess, hurrying to card-tables and candelabra and strange scenes of joy. I like to see that there are still splendid people on this flat earth; and at dances, standing in the street with the crowd, and stirred by the music, the lights, the rushing sound of voices, I think the Ladies as beautiful as Stars who move up lanes of light into those Palaces; the young men look like Lords in novels; and if it has once or twice happened people I know go by me, they strike me as changed and rapt beyond my sphere. What I said about finance and philosophy impressed them; and how they laughed when I imitated a pig squealing. 山羊 The Goat 我在讲述轶事时，突然心头一凛，闪过一阵疑虑——我之前告诉过他们有关这只山羊的事吗？然后当我说话时一个更黑暗的推测瞪着我——深渊之下还有深渊大张着口：我每次提到山羊时，是否总不由自主地重复这个朴次茅斯山羊的故事？ In the midst of my anecdote a sudden misgiving chilled me—had I told them about this Goat before? And then as I talked there gaped upon me—abyss opening beneath abyss—a darker speculation: when goats are mentioned, do I automatically and always tell this story about the Goat at Portsmouth? We were getting on quite nicely. I come out of the Middle Ages. I am the primitive savage we are all descended from; I believe in Devil-worship and the power of the Stars; I dance under the new Moon, naked and tattooed and holy. I am a Cave-dweller, a contemporary of Mastodons and Mammoths; I am pleistocene and eolithic, and full of the lusts and terrors of the great pre-glacial forests. Then she turned and talked in a hushed voice with her other neighbour. 公共汽车上 In The Bus 我坐在那辆拥挤的公共汽车上，对面妇人的胖脸看起来如此难过，如此不可思议，如此肮脏不堪，所以我在我们中间插进对非洲最高峰乞立马扎罗山的思考；芳草茵茵的斜坡，黑人国王的绿色田园，黑色球果在这里长高；山腰上是无边无际的、阴暗的森林，有大象出没；再往上，山顶上白雪覆盖，终年不化，隔绝着非洲赤道的棕榈树和沙漠。 As I sat inside that crowded bus, so sad, so incredible and sordid seemed the fat face of the woman opposite me, that I interposed the thought of Kilimanjaro, that highest mountain of Africa, between us; the grassy slopes and green Arcadian realms of negro kings from which its dark cone rises; the immense, dim, elephant-haunted forests which clothe its flanks, and above, the white crown of snow, freezing in eternal isolation over the palm trees and deserts of the African Equator. 白日梦 Daydream 在我所生活的这个冷漠恶毒的社会中，我必须缄口不提灵魂或是我的热望。哪怕只有一次让这些人窥见我本性中高尚的一面，他们就会把我撕成碎片。 In the cold and malicious society in which I live, I must never mention the Soul, nor speak of my aspirations. If I ever once let these people get a glimpse of the higher side of my nature, they would tear me in pieces. 我希望拥有内心丰富的朋友—有教养的未婚女士，心怀理想，长着高鼻子，住在汉普斯特得或者帕特尼，能激情四溢地演奏肖邦的曲子。在令人悲伤的秋日午后，我会去找她们喝茶，谈论贝多芬最后的奏鸣曲的精神意义；或者在暮色中谈论生命的感伤和更大的希望。 I wish I had soulful friends—refined Maiden Ladies with ideals and long noses, who live at Hampstead or Putney, and play Chopin with passion. 天意 Providence 上帝看见我；他知道我美好的本质，知道我面对各种可怕的诱惑而保持着怎样的纯净。这就是为什么我深信不疑，有种特殊的天意在保佑我；上天特意派来天使指引我的脚步，使我免受伤害。因为我从来没像其他人那样被绊倒或是从楼梯上滚下来；我过马路时没被出租车和公共汽车轧到过；风再大，也吹不掉我的帽子。 But God sees me; He knows my beautiful nature, and how pure I keep amid all sorts of quite horrible temptations. And that is why, as I feel in my bones, there is a special Providence watching over me, an Angel sent expressly from heaven to guide my footsteps from harm. For I never trip up or fall downstairs like other people; I am not run over by cabs and buses at street-crossings; in the worst wind my hat never blows off. Leave him alone, I tell you! 伦敦的春天 The Spring In London 去年冬天，伦敦看起来像一个地下城市；低沉的天空像一个洞穴的顶，蒙阴郁的天色像我们读到的地下国度。 London seemed last winter like an underground city; as if its low sky were the roof of a cave, and its murky day a light such as one reads of in countries beneath the earth. 有时自然的阳光也会照耀到那里；不久就消散的云让蓝色的天空显得发白；无穷无尽的屋顶沐浴在银色的月辉中或是被白雪覆盖。春天来到伦敦，就像少女女神降临到死神的王国，粉红的杏花绽放、萦绕在她身边；那些冬天生活在阴影当中的人们心神荡漾，开始隐隐期盼草地和牧羊人的生活。树林或果园中最新鲜无瑕的便是那些微微闪着亮光的新叶子，到了五月，它们娇嫩的绿色使得伦敦所有被烟雾熏黑的树木黯然失色。 And yet the natural sunlight sometimes shone there; unenduring clouds whitened the blue sky; the interminable multitudes of roofs were washed with silver by the Moon, or mantled in snow. Nor is there anything more virginal and fresh in wood or orchard, than the shimmer of young foliage, which, in May, dims with delicate green all the smoke-blackened London trees. 时装图样 Fashion Plates 我喜欢在书报亭驻足，观看书店橱窗，对着牧羊女和旧式美女的图片编造浪漫故事。一个时期内女士们高挑苗条，帽子上插着羽毛装饰；另一个时期，她们穿着袖口宽大的衣服，像蝴蝶或者大气球一样，飘过夏日的街头。然而不管穿着什么样的衣服，她们总能（我告诉自己）创造出激动人心的美感，唤醒时尚的年轻男子心中同样的迷恋情绪。 I like loitering at the bookstalls, looking in at the windows of print-shops, and romancing over the pictures I see of shepherdesses and old-fashioned Beauties. Tall and slim and crowned with plumes in one period, in another these Ladies become as wide-winged as butterflies, or float, large, balloon-like visions, down summer streets. And yet in all shapes they have always I tell myself created thrilling effects of beauty, and wakened in the breasts of modish young men ever the same charming Emotion. 但是我对此有所疑问。这种情绪总是一模一样的吗？我们真的能说，在那些不断变化的绉褶式样之下，人心却依然如故吗？怀着这种优雅又残酷的感情，我宁愿猜想颜色和样式确实会造成不同的效果。我认为年前后是这种热情的鼎盛时期、正午时刻、黄金时代。我相信，那些身穿紧身服、蓄须的美貌男子，那些身着大摆裙的美貌女子，一定彼此爱慕，而这种爱慕带着其他时代所无法企及的闲情逸趣、彬彬有礼和沮丧灰心。 But then I have questioned this. Is the emotion always precisely the same? Can one truly say that the human heart remains quite unchanged beneath all the ever-changing fashions of frills and ruffles? In this elegant and cruel Sentiment, I rather fancy that colour and shape do make a difference. I have a notion that about was the Zenith, the Meridian Hour, the Golden Age of the Passion. Those tight-waisted, whiskered Beaux, those crinolined Beauties, must have adored one another, I believe, with a leisure, a refinement, and dismay not quite attainable at other dates. Like faint, rather unpleasant smells, these thoughts lurk about railway stations. I can hardly post a letter without marvelling at the excellence and accuracy of the Postal System. 有时我很怕发现每件事情都有寓意；很怕发现宇宙的整个宏大架构有一把钥匙，就像一个盒子那样；它由一个善意却乏味的18世纪造物主设计并启动。那无疑会是一个地狱，在这个世界里的一切事物都可以立刻得到解释，用途明确。我受够了教诲和寓言，对告诫的蚂蚁、勤劳的蜜蜂，所有用来说教的动物都感到厌烦。我腻烦了文明的益处。我看够了教诲的太阳的光芒。 I am sometimes afraid of finding that there is a moral for everything; that the whole great frame of the Universe has a key, like a box; has been contrived and set going by a well-meaning but humdrum Eighteenth-Century Creator. It would be a kind of Hell, surely, a world in which everything could be at once explained, shown to be obvious and useful. I am sated with Lesson and Allegory; weary of monitory ants, industrious bees, and preaching animals. The benefits of Civilization cloy me. I have seen enough shining of the didactic Sun. 于是，炎热的夏夜里我注视着伦敦上空的星星，让那景象冷却我的思绪——一片令人晕眩的、无穷无尽的、毫无意义的天地万物，闪耀的恒星、行星和冰冻的卫星，全都在这片虚空中永远盲目地冲撞着。 So gazing up on hot summer nights at the London stars, I cool my thoughts with a vision of the giddy, infinite, meaningless waste of Creation, the blazing Suns, the Planets and frozen Moons, all crashing blindly for ever across the void of space. 孤独 Loneliness 难道没有一个人能做我的朋友吗？没人像我一样痛恨易卜生和问题剧、超自然现象、瑞士和通奸吗？难道我的一生都要缄默得像只鲭鱼一样，没有伙伴，没人邀请，从不与人说起我对那些同时代的名人们的看法吗？我必定要永远独自一人耕一条犁沟、独自一人踏着榨酒机吗？ Is there, then, no friend? No one who hates Ibsen10 and problem plays, and the Supernatural, and Switzerland and Adultery as much as I do? Must I live all my life as mute as a mackerel, companionless and uninvited, and never tell anyone what I think of my famous contemporaries? Must I plough always a solitary furrow, and tread the winepress alone? 生活的风琴 The Organ Of Life 伦敦总是如此——在街上聚集的人们大声的喧哗声中，及穿透围墙和窗户的噪声中——你能听到街头音乐平凡忧郁的旋律；好像人类心灵真正的乐音，唱着遗失的快乐、悔恨和人行道上熙熙攘攘的人群或者公共汽车上一路颠簸的乘客们无爱的生活。 Almost always in London—in the congregated uproar of streets, or in the noise that drifts through walls and windows—you can hear the hackneyed melancholy of street-music; a music which sounds like the actual voice of the human Heart, singing the lost joys, the regrets, the loveless lives of the people who blacken the pavements, or jolt along on the buses. Someone told a story. It was humiliating, but more humiliating the thought that Sophocles11 and Goethe12 would have always commanded attention, while the lack of it would not have troubled Spinoza13 nor Abraham Lincoln 绿色的象牙 Green Ivory 真是无聊，每天早晨醒来，发现自己还是同一个人。我希望我能够勇往直前、坚持己见，有又粗又浓的眉毛，能给这个时代带来一个启示。我希望我是一个深邃的思想者，或者一个伟大的腹语者。 What a bore it is, waking up in the morning always the same person. I wish I were unflinching and emphatic, and had big, bushy eyebrows and a Message for the Age. I wish I were a deep Thinker, or a great Ventriloquist. 我希望自己长得更英俊，充满忧郁的气质，为无望的激情备受折磨；以古老而矫饰的方式去爱，在苍白的月光下受着得不到回应的爱慕和绝望的煎熬。 I should like to be refined-looking and melancholy, the victim of a hopeless passion; to love in the old, stilted way, with impossible Adoration and Despair under the pale-faced Moon. I wish I had lots of silver, and first Editions, and green ivory. I feel sure I have detected a look of misgiving in the eyes of its earnest upholders. 但是这种阴影或疑云不会出现在俱乐部里的人们脸上，不会出现在四马马车夫的眼睛里，或是在皮卡迪利逛街的时髦青年眼中。因为这些人生活的规则不是从值得怀疑的上天那里得来的，因此也就无需获得上天的许可。他们所做的就是正确的，就是这样。他们从头到脚穿戴得体，想着正确的事情，打着正确的手势，交流着正确的评论，正确地围绕地球行走。 But there is no such shadow or cloud on the faces in Club windows, or in the eyes of drivers of four-in-hands, or of fashionable young men walking down Piccadilly. For these live by a Rule which has not been drawn down from questionable skies, and needs no sanction. What they do is Correct, and that is all. Correctly dressed from head to foot, they pass, with correct thought and gestures, exchanging correct remarks, across the roundness of the Earth. 然后在《泰晤士报》反映出的大世界里，我找到了属于我的角落，在那里我扮演着卑微却不可或缺的角色。我是不受赞扬、没有奖赏的众人中的一员，但离开我们，统计学就要破产。我们的出生、结婚、死亡有着稳定的比例；是我们每年固定地弄丢这么多的雨伞，寄出这么多没写地址的信。我们中有一些充满热情的人，所谓的英雄，他们不把自己的利益放在心上，让公共汽车从他们身上轧过，或者月复一月，以固定的人数，从伦敦的那些大桥上纵身跳下。 Then in the great Times-reflected world I find the corner where I play my humble but necessary part. For I am one of the unpraised, unrewarded millions without whom Statistics would be a bankrupt science. It is we who are born, who marry, who die, in constant ratios; who regularly lose so many umbrellas, post just so many unaddressed letters every year. And there are enthusiasts among us, Heroes who, without the least thought of their own convenience, allow omnibuses to run over them, or throw themselves month by month, in fixed numbers, from the London bridges. People go about laden with germs; they breathe creeds and convictions on you whenever they open their mouths. Books and newspapers are simply creeping with them—the monthly Reviews seem to have room for little else. Wherewithal then shall a young man cleanse his way; how shall he keep his mind immune to Theosophical speculations, and novel schemes of Salvation? Are there not soporific dreams and sweet deliriums more soothing than Reason? If Transmigration can make clear the dark Problem of Evil; if Mrs. Mary Baker Eddy15 can free us from Death; if the belief that Bacon16 wrote Shakespeare gives a peace which the world cannot give, why pedantically reject such solace? Why not be led with the others by still waters, be made to lie down in green pastures? But what awful things happen to us, what snubs, what set-downs we experience, what shames and disillusions. We can never really tell what these new unknown persons may do to us. Sometimes they seem nice, and then begin to talk like gramophones. Sometimes they grab at us with moist hands, or breathe hotly on our necks, or make awful confidences, or drench us from sentimental slop-pails. And too often, among the thoughts in the loveliest heads, we come on nests of woolly caterpillars. 不过我们还是把帽子掸干净，戴上手套，走出门，按响门铃。 And yet we brush our hats, pull on our gloves, and go out and ring door-bells. 万花筒 The Kaleidoscope 我发现在我脑海里，在纷乱复杂的思绪中，总是莫名其妙地出现很多奇特的小小的画面，而后又无缘无故地消失不见。有时，它们是些再普通不过的景象——一处街角、一堆石块、一扇古老的大门；但也有很多迷人的画面：我读书时，在双眼和书籍之间，月亮在收获的田野上洒下清冷的银色光辉；我看见秋日的大道，树叶纷纷落下，或被扫成堆；风暴在我的思想中肆虐，雨点不断砸在田野上。然后冬季闪耀的白雪照亮了天空；春季的微风和阳光下，粉红和浅绿的色彩绽放；夏日的麦田和绿水之间，年轻人沐浴在金色的热浪里。 I find in my mind, in its miscellany of ideas and musings, a curious collection of little landscapes, shining and fading for no reason. Sometimes they are views in no way remarkable—the corner of a road, a heap of stones, an old gate. But there are many charming pictures too: as I read, between my eyes and book, the Moon washes the harvest- fields with her chill of silver; I see autumnal avenues, with the leaves falling, or swept in heaps; and storms blow among my thoughts, with the rain beating for ever on the fields. 我信步游走时，常常想起许多地方：一座大教堂矗立在一个暗蓝色的外国小镇上方，在夕阳的余辉下闪着象牙色的光泽；接着我发现自己来到一个法式花园，紫丁香满园，蜜蜂到处飞舞，阳光无处不在，地中海在围墙外懒洋洋地荡漾；我又来到大学的小图书馆里，那里立着一些半身雕像，牛津的草坪映出绿光——我又一次听到了铃声，这让我想起在牛津的时光。 And as I walk about, places haunt me; a cathedral rises above a dark blue foreign town, the colour of ivory in the sunset light; now I find myself in a French garden, full of lilacs and bees, and shut-in sunshine, with the Mediterranean lounging outside its walls; now in a little college library, with busts, and the green reflected light of Oxford lawns;—and again I hear the bells, reminding me of the Oxford hours. 晚间的大教堂 The Abbey At Night 夜晚，我经过大教堂，看到它周围竖着高高的围墙，庄严肃穆，直耸入秋夜的星辰当中。我脑中构想着大教堂里无尽黑暗中的白人——所有缄默的英雄的人们——他们没有死，我总会想，只是被赋予了一种静止的生命，最后，在经历了所有难以忍受的苦难之后——战争的喧嚣、危险的航道——长眠在那里，平静、满足且荣耀；墓碑上刻着墓志铭和饱含深意的数字；——那些大教堂里形状不规则的坟墓，堆得很高，上面装饰着纪念品。这是他们在很久以前受苦受难的原因，是他们勇敢地献出了自己的生命才赢得的。 And as at night I went past the Abbey, saw its walls towering high and solemn among the Autumn stars, I pictured to myself the white population in the vast darkness of its interior—all that hushed people of Heroes—; not dead, I would think them, but animated with a still kind of life, and at last, after all their intolerable toils, the sounding tumult of battle, and perilous sea-paths, resting there, tranquil and satisfied and glorious, amid the epitaphs and allegorical figures of their tombs;— those high-piled, trophied, shapeless Abbey tombs, that long ago they toiled for, and laid down their gallant lives to win. 牛津街 Oxford Street 深冬傍晚的牛津街，这条微暗的大道上充斥着车辆的噪音和人声，我挤在人群中走过那些亮着电灯的大商铺，心中突然升起一种神圣的冷漠感。所有的幻象从我身边退去；我对那些金色橱窗里陈列的商品没有任何占有欲，所有那些移动着的面孔带着的欲望和恐惧也丝毫没有感染我。我仿佛来自亚洲，带着疏离感听着伦敦的车来人往，这声音变得古老、刺耳而又悲伤——变成混浊的渴望之流，把人们卷入毫无意义的存在的循环，人们永远盲目地受着奴役。但是我已经抵达了彼岸，那救赎的海港，那座圣城；巨大的安宁超越了所有的喧嚣和烦躁，环绕在我四周。嘛呢叭咪哞——我低喃着这些神圣的音节，脸上挂着悲悯的微笑，像是神圣的莲花座上的神佛。 One late winter afternoon in Oxford Street, amid the noise of vehicles and voices that filled that dusky thoroughfare, as I was borne onward with the crowd past the great electric-lighted shops, a holy Indifference filled my thoughts. Illusion had faded from me; I was not touched by any desire for the goods displayed in those golden windows, nor had I the smallest share in the appetites and fears of all those moving faces. And as I listened with Asiatic detachment to the London traffic, its sound changed into something ancient and dissonant and sad—into the turbid flow of that stream of Craving which sweeps men onward through the meaningless cycles of Existence, blind and enslaved for ever. But I had reached the farther shore, the Harbour of Deliverance, the Holy City; the Great Peace beyond all this turmoil and fret compassed me around. Om Mani padme hum17—I murmured the sacred syllables, smiling with the pitying smile of the Enlightened One on his heavenly lotus. 然后，在一个橱窗里，我看到一只简洁的手提箱。我喜欢那只手提箱；我想要它。幻象的迷雾在一瞬间笼罩住我，我再一次被锁在存在之轮上，在那条充满错误信仰、欲望、悲伤和愤怒的混浊溪流中打转，沿着牛津街往前走。 Then, in a shop-window, I saw a neatly fitted suit-case. I liked that suit- case; I wanted it. Immediately I was enveloped by the mists of Illusion, chained once more to the Wheel of Existence, whirled onward along Oxford Street in that turbid stream of wrong-belief, and lust, and sorrow, and anger. 美丽 Beauty 在世间所有丑陋的脸孔中间，我们不时看见一张天神般的面孔。然后，一件神奇的事情发生在我们身上；青鸟歌唱，金光闪耀，在一个奇怪的瞬间，所有事情似乎都失去了意义，只剩下我们追随那些美好形式的冲动，追随它们去它们所许诺的洁净的天堂。 Among all the ugly mugs of the world we see now and then a face made after the divine pattern. Then, a wonderful thing happens to us; the Blue Bird sings, the golden Splendour shines, and for a queer moment everything seems meaningless save our impulse to follow those fair forms, to follow them to the clear Paradises they promise. 柏拉图告诉我们，这些时刻不只是（我们很容易认为它们是）感官上模糊的错觉，而是神的启示；在一张可爱的面孔上我们看到绝对的美丽，就像在镜面上的倒影一样——这是事实，闪现在我们眼前，照亮我们所居住的到处是阴影和黑暗的洞穴。因此我们应该追随这些美好的形式，他说，它们闪亮的步伐将指引我们到达智慧的最高天堂。诗人们也应该不停拨动金色的琴弦，用庄严的曲调吟诵这个有关美丽的学说。这甜美而奇特的乐曲飘向天际，就连天使们好像也从他们的星星上俯下身来聆听。 Plato assures us that these moments are not as we are apt to think them mere blurs and delusions of the senses, but divine revelations; that in a lovely face we see imaged, as in a mirror, the Absolute Beauty—; it is Reality, flashing on us in the cave where we dwell amid shadows and darkness. Therefore we should follow these fair forms, he says, and their shining footsteps will lead us upward to the highest heaven of Wisdom. The Poets, too, keep chanting this doctrine of Beauty in grave notes to their golden strings. The music floats up through the skies so sweet, so strange, that the very Angels seem to lean from their stars to listen. 喔，柏拉图，喔，雪莱，喔，天堂的天使们，你们让我们陷入了怎样的境地！ But, O Plato, O Shelley, O Angels of Heaven, what scrapes, what scrapes you do get us into! 语言的力量 The Power Of Words 俱乐部的守门人帮我穿上外套，我谢过他之后，愉快地走入无边的黑夜中。我向前走去，身后的亮光晃花了我的眼睛，我听到我演讲的声音、掌声和笑声。 I thanked the club porter who helped me into my coat, and stepped out gayly into the vastness of the Night. And as I walked along my eyes were dazzling with the glare behind me; I heard the sound of my speech, the applause and laughter. 我抬头仰望星空，那些伟大的星星陪伴着我，路过一所所漆黑的房子，我觉得自己是生命的主人；这份神秘，这让人不安的没有意义的存在——他人的存在，自己的存在，对我而言都得到了解决。至于地球，在我脚下快速运转，它的旅程是多么光明；它摇摆着——你其实可能要说跳跃着——穿过天空，奔向多么耀眼的目标。 And when I looked up at the Stars, the great Stars that bore me company, streaming over the dark houses as I moved, I felt that I was the Lord of Life; the mystery and disquieting meaninglessness of existence—the existence of other people, and of my own, were solved for me now. As for the Earth, hurrying beneath my feet, how bright was its journey; how shining the goal toward which it went swinging—you might really say leaping—through the sky. Only to find the words—that troubled me; were there then no words to describe this Vision—divine—intoxicating? 然后我突然想到一个字眼，一个人们会使用的字眼。我在街上停住脚步；我的灵魂如一口大钟般缄默不语，但不合时宜的触碰会让它发出怒吼。我在那里站了一会儿，思考着关于语言的问题，想着它的不可靠和吝啬、我们词汇的贫乏和耻辱，以及道德学家怎样破坏了我们的语言——他们将自己所有对人类欢乐的憎恨的毒液滴入我们的语言中。 And then the Word struck me; the Word people would use. I stopped in the street; my Soul was silenced like a bell that snarls at a jarring touch. I stood there awhile and meditated on language, its perfidious meanness, the inadequacy, the ignominy of our vocabulary, and how Moralists have spoiled our words by distilling into them, as into little vials of poison, all their hatred of human joy. But why not be frank? And behind their well-bred voices I seemed to hear the voice of Schoolmasters and Tutors, of the Professional Classes, and indeed of all the World. 我到底在做什么？我是怎样度日的？我知道人的一生不过寥寥数年，布道词里和墓碑上都说人生是不能倒退的，它如此短暂，真叫人悲伤。 What, as a plain matter of fact, was I doing? How did I spend my days? The life-days which I knew were numbered, and which were described in sermons and on tombstones as so irrevocable, so melancholy-brief. 我决定改变我的生活。我也要成为这个时代的名人；世界要聆听我的话语；同时代的人要把我当作一个重要的人对待。我开始考虑发愤图强、挑灯夜读、晚睡早起，挤出时间学习、提升自己。 I decided to change my life. I too would be somebody in my time and age; the world should hear of me; my contemporaries should treat me as an important person. I began thinking of my endeavours, my studies by the midnight lamp, my risings at dawn for stolen hours of self-improvement. It somehow seemed enough, just to be alive in the Spring, with the young green of the trees, the smell of smoke in the sunshine; I loved the old shops and books, the uproar darkening and brightening in the shabby daylight. Just a run of good-looking faces—for I was always looking for faces—would keep me amused. And London was but a dim-lit stage on which I played the part I liked. I would wake up in the morning like Byron to find myself famous; be drawn like Chatham to St. 不管怎样 And Anyhow 不管怎样，很快，非常之快（百科全书上说只要大约二十亿年之后），地球会变得很寒冷，人类所有的活动都将停止，最后一批悲惨的凡人在垂死的太阳的光辉下闭上眼睛。 And anyhow, soon, so soon in only two thousand million years or thereabouts, the Encyclopaedia said this Earth would grow cold, all human activities end, and the last wretched mortals close their eyes on the rays of the dying Sun. 借口 Drawbacks 我应该没问题…… I should be all right 谈话 Talk 偶尔，当门关上，窗帘拉上，一群无拘无束的人在一起时，奇迹发生了，畅快的谈话开始了。屋子里突然有光亮起——这光亮，可能是些神化的小蜡烛发出的，又更像是一个煮着邪恶八卦的大锅周围的火光。 Once in a while, when doors are closed and curtains drawn on a group of free spirits, the miracle happens, and Good Talk begins. 还有什么事情能让人狂喜、陶醉至此？噢，谈话，在谈话中将人变成怪物，把他们切成片供众神食用；通过谈话将人的自我从衣服中解脱出来，把耶和华从天堂谈下来，什么都说，把世界上的所有东西都变成一派绝妙的废话！ Is there an ecstasy or any intoxication like it? 这种圣灵降临和精灵倾巢而出的事情鲜有发生，不然宇宙本身不久就会在谈话中化为乌有。 These Pentecosts19 and outpourings of the spirit can only occur very rarely, or the Universe itself would be soon talked out of existence. 英国国教会 The Church Of England 我有信仰国教的时刻。那个星期天下午，我坐在18世纪风格的伦敦教堂里面，听着那些平铺直叙的声音吟诵着循规蹈矩的仪式颂歌，我感到很舒适，并且确信，我们不会被人出卖，说我们表现出过分狂热的宗教情感。我们没有聚集在那场演出上，臣服在任何一个未经驯服的宇宙的黑暗造物主面前并狂热地赞美他，没有去信仰怪异、奇迹和邪恶的神；我们只对那位备受尊敬的英国国教造物主——卓越不凡、不露声色、有绅士风度——履行我们的职责，我们不必丧失自尊，就可以有礼貌地赞美他。 I have my Anglican moments; and as I sat there that Sunday afternoon, in the eighteenth-century interior of the London Church, and listened to the unexpressive voices chanting the correct service, I felt a comfortable assurance that we were in no danger of being betrayed into any unseemly manifestations of religious fervour. We had not gathered together at that performance to abase ourselves with furious hosannas before any dark Creator of an untamed Universe, no Deity of freaks and miracles and sinister hocus-pocus; but to pay our duty to a highly respected Anglican First Cause—distinguished, undemonstrative, gentlemanly—whom, without loss of self-respect, we could decorously praise. 疑虑 Misgiving 我们正在谈论别人，有人提起一个大家都熟悉的名字。我们停下谈话，彼此对视；不久，通过几件轶事和一些巧妙的细节，那个人的性格就被重新塑造出来了，他仿佛出现在我们面前，体型庞大、面色红润、栩栩如生，摆了几个有特点的姿势，滑稽地勾勒出自己的样子。 We were talking of people, and a name familiar to us all was mentioned. We paused and looked at each other; then soon, by means of anecdotes and clever touches, that Personality was reconstructed, and seemed to appear before us, large, pink, and life-like, and give a comic sketch of itself with characteristic poses. It is always enveloped in mountain mists; through that white thick air the faint sound of bells reached me, the muff led footsteps of innumerable pilgrims, and the reiterated mantra, Nam-Mo, O-mi-to-Fo, which they murmured as they climbed its slopes. High up among its temples and monasteries marched processions of monks, with chants and services, and many prostrations, and lighted candles that glimmered through the fog. There in their solemn shrines stood the statues of the Arahats, and there, seated on his white elephant, loomed immense and dim, the image of Amitabha, the Lord of the Western Heavens. I joined with choirs of monks, intoning their deep sonorous dirges and unintelligible prayers; I beat drums, I clashed cymbals, and blew at dawn from the Lamasery roofs conches, and loud discordant trumpets. And wandering through those vast and shadowy halls, as I tended the butter-lamps of the golden Buddhas, and watched the storms that swept across the barren mountains, I tasted an imaginary bliss, and then passed on to other scenes and incarnations along the endless road that leads me to Nirvana. There, in its gloomiest recesses, where the soil is stained with the blood of the negroes He has eaten, dwells that monstrous Deity of human shape and red colour, the great Fetish God, Sasabonsum. I like Sasabonsum: other Gods are sometimes moved to pity, to forgiveness, but to Him this weakness is unknown. He is utterly and absolutely implacable; no prayers, no human sacrifices can ever for one moment appease His cold, malignant rage. A dreariness and sense of death come over me when I meet them—I really find it difficult to breathe when they are in the room, as if they had pumped all the air out of it. But they never seem to be aware of it. I remember once meeting a famous Bore; I really must tell you about it, it shows the unbelievable obtuseness of such people. 被跟踪的人 Shadowed 有时我对自己想象出的自己感到有些不安——我的白日梦中的自己——他过着自己戏剧化的生活，与真正存在的我毫无关联。因此有一天我跟在他后面走在大街上。他闲逛了一会儿，然后在一扇橱窗前站住，打上一条俗艳的领带，穿上一件黄色的马甲。然后他买了一块大海绵和两只鸟标本，带着它们回到住处，他在那里过着低调的生活。接着他搬去了一所位于伦敦贵族住宅区的大房子，在那里举办了几次盛大的晚会，有很棒的服务和昂贵的葡萄酒。他在上流社会的恋爱冒险我就不讲了。不久他卖掉了房子和马匹，放弃了汽车，遣散了仆人和随从，然后去——在路上从车轮下救出了两位年轻女士——穷人中间过一种英雄般的自我牺牲的生活。 I sometimes feel a little uneasy about that imagined self of mine—the Me of my daydreams—who leads a melodramatic life of his own, out of all relation with my real existence. So one day I shadowed him down the street. He loitered along for a while, and then stood at a shop- window and dressed himself out in a gaudy tie and yellow waistcoat. Then he bought a great sponge and two stuffed birds and took them to lodgings, where he led a shady existence. Next he moved to a big house in Mayfair, and gave grand dinner-parties, with splendid service and costly wines. His amorous adventures among the High-up Ones of this Earth I pass over. He soon sold his house and horses, gave up his motors, dismissed his retinue of servants, and went—saving two young ladies from being run over on the way—to live a life of heroic self- sacrifice among the poor. If my personality can inspire fear or respect, the world must be a simpler place than I had thought it. Afraid of a twittering shadow, a make-believe like me? Are children more absurdly terrified by a candle in a hollow turnip? Was Bedlam at full moon ever scared by anything half so silly? So travellers at night in an unknown forest keep their fire ablaze, in fear of Wild Beasts lurking in the darkness ready to leap upon them. 惆怅 Pathos 当冬季的暮色夹着雨点落在我的街道上，我突然深切地感受到生活的悲伤。我想到醉醺醺的老女人，她们投河自尽，因为没有人爱她们；我想到在圣赫勒拿的拿破仑，想到拜伦，他在意大利令人无精打采的气候下变得脾气暴躁，身材臃肿。 When winter twilight falls in my street with the rain, a sense of the horrible sadness of life descends upon me. I think of drunken old women who drown themselves because nobody loves them; I think of Napoleon at St. Helena21, and of Byron, growing irritable and fat in the enervating climate of Italy. 善变 Inconstancy 戴过然后丢弃的玫瑰，被遗忘的朋友，从耳边飘过的音乐；——凡尘俗世这众所周知的转瞬即逝的特质使我为自己定下了箴言，或者说告诫：不要愚蠢地寻找一张面孔或者长久倾听一个声音，因为这个世界毕竟，就我所知，充满了迷人的声音。 The rose that one wears and throws away, the friend one forgets, the music that passes;—out of the well-known transitoriness of mortal things I have made myself a maxim or precept to the effect that it is foolish to look for one face, or to listen long for one voice, in a world that is, after all, as I know, full of enchanting voices. 但是我仍然难以忘怀，小时候读到对坚定不移、真挚的爱和不变的北极星的歌颂时的那份热情。 But all the same, I can never quite forget the enthusiasm with which, as a boy, I read the praises of Constancy, of True Love and the unchanged Northern Star. 白杨 The Poplar 苏塞克斯有一棵大树，它薄薄的树叶层层叠叠，在夏季的微风中轻轻浮动。画眉在那片树阴下歌唱，黑鸟金色的嗓音充盈着夕阳那装点着大地的余辉。夜莺在那里找到了自己绿色的隐居地，柠檬色的月亮有时像一个硕大的水果挂在枝头。 There is a great tree in Sussex22, whose cloud of thin foliage floats high in the summer air. The thrush sings in that umbrage, and blackbirds, who fill the late, decorative sunshine with a shimmer of golden sound. There the nightingale finds her green cloister; and on those branches sometimes, like a great fruit, hangs the lemon-coloured Moon. 在八月的耀眼的光芒中，当整个世界都因炎热而晕眩，那些阴凉之处却总有微风拂过；树上轻盈的叶片间总有声响，像流水的声音。 In the glare of August, when all the world is faint with heat, there is always a breeze in those cool recesses; always a noise, like the noise of water, among their lightly-hung leaves. 但是这棵树的主人却住在伦敦，正在读着书。 But the owner of this Tree lives in London, reading books. 门阶上 On The Doorstep 我像往常一样摇响门铃，像往常一样盯着闪亮的大门，等待着。但是，哎呀！心脏扑扑地狂跳，甜美的门阶恐惧症——都不见了；紧接着，亲爱的、美妙的、惊慌的青春按响门铃，在转角处一闪，永远消失了。 I rang the bell as of old; as of old I gazed at the great shining Door and waited. But, alas! That flutter and beat of the wild heart, that delicious Doorstep Terror—it was gone; and with it dear, fantastic, panic-stricken Youth had rung the bell, flitted around the corner and vanished for ever. 月亮 The Moon 我走进去，和女主人握手，但是其他人都没怎么注意；没有人尖叫或者离开房间；小声的谈话还在继续。我猜我看起来像其他人一样；从外表看起来毫无疑问我就像他们一样。 I went in and shook hands with my hostess, but no one else took any special notice; no one screamed or left the room; the quiet murmur of talk went on. I suppose I seemed like the others; observed from outside no doubt I looked like them. 但是内心里，从内心看呢……？或者假设：我们在内心里其实也都是相似的，——所有这些悄声交谈的人头脑里都能想得到月亮，这可信吗？ But inside, seen from within? Or was it a conceivable hypothesis that we were all really alike inside also,—that all these quietly-talking people had got the Moon too, in their heads? 慰藉 Consolation 某天，我在地铁里感到很压抑，想借着思考人类的各种快乐，让自己高兴起来。但是那些快乐中好像没有什么是我在意的——酒、名誉、友谊、吃、做爱，或者美德的意识，我全不放在心上。既然这个世界不能提供更精彩的东西，乘着电梯上升到这样一个世界有什么意义呢？ The other day, depressed on the Underground, I tried to cheer myself by thinking over the joys of our human lot. Was it worth while then going way up in a lift into a world that had nothing less trite to offer? 然后我想到了阅读——阅读带来的美好且微妙的幸福。这就足够了，这个不会随着岁月的流逝而变得无趣的快乐，这个礼貌且不会受到惩罚的恶习，自私、安静、使人一生陶醉。 Then I thought of reading—the nice and subtle happiness of reading. This was enough, this joy not dulled by Age, this polite and unpunished vice, this selfish, serene, life-long intoxication. 市长老爷 The Lord Mayor 空中刮着寒风；我站在那儿，风切割着我的身体。擦鞋匠正要收工，开始抱怨起来。 An arctic wind was blowing; it cut through me as I stood there. The boot-black was finishing his work and complaints. 我低下头看着他；这好像很可笑，这个冻得半死的跛子的信仰。幸福！这个只在遥远的天堂才存在的虚构的宝藏，我在那天下午思考这个问题；它不是金子能买到的，它不属于这个地球！ I looked down at him; it seemed absurd, the belief of this crippled, half-frozen creature. The fabled treasure of some far-away heaven I thought it that afternoon; not to be bought with gold, not of this earth! 我说了点儿什么，大概表达了我上述的想法。但是一天四先令对这个擦鞋匠来说足够了。 I said something to this effect. But four shillings a day was enough for the boot-black. My eyes have grown dim over books; believing in geological periods, cave-dwellers, Chinese Dynasties, and the fixed Stars has prematurely aged me. 我为什么要为这世界上所有的错误而受到责备？我没有发明罪恶、仇恨和屠杀。不管怎样，是谁让我负责管理宇宙，让我负责使行星按照自己的轨道运行？苍穹的重担压弯了我力大无比的肩膀；我已经厌烦了承担整个世界的重量。 Why am I to blame for all that is wrong in the world? Who made it my duty anyhow to administer the Universe, and keep the planets to their courses? My Atlantean shoulders are bent by the load of the Firmament; I grow weary of bearing the weight of the whole World. 在雨伞下 Under An Umbrella 我从撑开的雨伞下看见雨水冲刷着的人行道在我脚下消逝，新闻海报沾满了泥土，躺在十字路口的地上，公共汽车轧过泥浆，留下车辙。我继续穿越这个潮湿的世界。经过多长的岁月我仍然会快步走过潮湿的街道——到中年，然后，或许直到老年？忙着去做什么呢？ From under the roof of my umbrella I saw the washed pavement lapsing beneath my feet, the news-posters lying smeared with dirt at the crossings, the tracks of the busses in the liquid mud. On I went through this world of wetness. And through what long perspectives of the years shall I still hurry down wet streets—middle-aged, and then, perhaps, very old? And on what errands? 我问着自己这个问题，从你们的视野里隐去，读者，退到千里之外，顶着风斜撑着我的雨伞。 Asking myself this question I fade from your vision, Reader, into the distance, sloping my umbrella against the wind. 安心 Reassurance 我看着我的外套和帽子挂在大厅里，感到很安心；虽然我今天出门时是这样一个个体，而昨天是一个完全不同的个体，但是我的衣服把各种各样的我扣在一起，使这些本来不可调和的精神现象聚合在一起，成了一个人。 I look at my overcoat and my hat hanging in the hall with reassurance; for although I go out of doors with one individuality to-day, when yesterday I had quite another, yet my clothes keep my various selves buttoned up together, and enable all these otherwise irreconcilable aggregates of psychological phenomena to pass themselves off as one person. 伟大的冒险 The Great Adventure 我在打开前门之前，停了一下，沉思了片刻。 I paused, before opening the front-door, for a moment of deep consideration. 人来人往的大街，在我房门外延伸，街上忽明忽暗，蒙不清，充满危险和难以想象的机缘巧合。我能够隐约听见沿路驶过的不祥的、低沉的车流声。我是否装备好去那些水流中航行，带好武器准备好再次到那个危险的世界中探险？ Dim-lit, shadowy, full of menace and unimaginable chances, stretched all around my door the many-peopled streets. I could hear, ominous and muffled, the tides of multitudinous traffic, sounding along their ways. Was I equipped for the navigation of those waters, armed and ready to adventure out into that dangerous world again? 手套？钱？香烟？火柴？都有；我还有一把雨伞抵御暴风雨，还有一把钥匙，以便能安全地回家。 Gloves? Yes; and I had an umbrella for its tempests, and a latchkey for my safe return. 至福直观 The Beatific Vision24 推推挤挤之中，一个生活在伦敦瘦骨嶙峋的不怎么光彩的家伙，像装在盒子里的鲱鱼一样，被车载着穿过地下隧道。我在一辆公共汽车上撞到头，或者在地铁里拉着一根油乎乎的皮带，喘不过气来，这时，我像其他理想主义者、圣人、社会思想家一样，梦想一个比这更美好的世界，梦想最终可能是天堂之城从天而降。 Shoving and pushing, and pushed and shoved, a dishonoured bag of bones about London, or carted like a herring in a box through tunnels in the clay beneath it, as I bump my head in an omnibus, or hang, half- suffocated, from a greasy strap in the Underground, I dream, like other Idealists and Saints and Social Thinkers, of a better world than this, a world that might be, a City of Heaven brought down at last to earth. 一个男仆推开我在新耶路撒冷的宫殿的大门；另一个男仆在门前展开红丝绒地毯，一直铺到一辆超大的汽车前面；那辆车载着我穿过城市里的车水马龙——我像爱德华七世，或者上帝一样向后靠在神圣的靠垫上，抽着一支大雪茄。 One footman f lings open the portals of my palace in that New Jerusalem for me, another unrolls a red path of velvet to the enormous motor which floats me through the city traffic—I leaning back like Edward VII, or like God, on hallowed cushions, smoking a big cigar. 脸 Faces 街上总是充满了衣衫褴褛的人；有时一连几个星期，那个寻找美丽面孔的可怜人都不幸地从他的征途空手而归，找不到资源补给他做白日梦的养料。 Almost always the streets are full of dingy people; sometimes for weeks on end the poor face-hunter returns unblest from his expeditions, with no provision with which to replenish his daydream-larder. 然而某一天，资源突然变得异常充足；公主们站在十字路口，女王们坐在出租车里，晨曦般的美人们在公共汽车顶层；天神们徜徉在皮卡迪利大街上。 Then one day the plenty is all too great; there are Princesses at the street- crossings, Queens in the taxi-cabs, Beings fair as the dayspring on the tops of busses, and the Gods themselves promenade up and down Piccadilly. 观察者 The Observer 谈蚂蚁！人类这种昆虫的精确习性和不可思议的活动才是我想注意和研究的。 Talk of ants! 今天我走着去维多利亚火车站时，遇到一件好笑的事，当时我正像一个刚降临在这个星球上的陌生人一样走着，突然碰到了人类种族中的一位女性，一个我认识的人，她从对面向我走来，我发现自己立刻表演了一套非常古怪的动作。我挺直脊背，傻笑着，把帽子举到空中；然后，抓住这位女性五指的爪子，上下晃动了好几次，口齿清晰地发出一组公式化的声音。 Walking to-day, a stranger dropped upon this planet, towards Victoria, a funny thing happened to me. I chanced to see a female of this species, a certain Mrs. Jones of my acquaintance, approaching from the opposite direction, and immediately I found myself performing the oddest set of movements. I straightened my back and simpered, I lifted my hat in the air; and then, seizing the cinquedigitated paw of this female, I moved it up and down several times, giving utterance to a set formula of articulated sounds. 这些人类学上的动作和发声，还有我习惯性地把它们表现出来的做法，让我意识到我也是他们中的一员，我是从他们内部来观察这些两足动物的。 These anthropological gestures and vocalizations, and my automatic performance of them, reminded me that it was from inside one of them I was observing those Bipeds. 混乱 Chaos 准时、老生常谈、赴所有的约会，当我在这个明明白白的世界上做着自己的事情时，一丝混乱和古老的夜色滞留在我心中；头脑昏胀的晕眩、冥想中蒙的海；思索的宇宙从虚无中渐渐显现，然后崩溃，像是一场梦。 Punctual, commonplace, keeping all appointments, as I go my round in the obvious world, a bit of Chaos and old Night lingers on inside me; a dark bewilderment of mind, a nebulous sea of meditation; a looming of speculative universes out of nothing, and their collapse, as in a dream. On what ground does life seem worth living in Pimlico25; and how far in the Cromwell Road do they follow, or think they follow, the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount26? 如果我对这些熟悉地区的理想尚且只能大概地了解，那么对于那一大片远郊的内部生活我就更加无从得知了。在哪部当地自省的作品中我能研究霍克斯顿的白日梦，坎伯韦尔或者伊林的好奇和沮丧？ If I can but dimly discern the ideals of these familiar regions, how much more am I in the dark about the inner life of the great outer suburbs. In what works of local introspection can I study the daydreams of Hoxton, the curiosities and discouragements of Clapham or Ealing? But alas, they would not tell me; they could not tell me, even if they would. 前门钥匙 The Latchkey 我看到街道尽头的新月，感到很惊讶，甚至恐惧。我站在我家门阶上注视着它，心中的惊奇有如布莱克的诗中表达的一样。我站在那里干什么？我，一个漫游者，一个朝圣者，一个沙漠里的游牧者，没有家，天黑时我走到哪里，哪里就是我的家；——我站在那个门阶上干什么呢？看到我手里握着一把前门钥匙，月亮又是何等的处事不惊？ I was astonished, I was almost horror-struck by the sight of the New Moon at the end of the street. In Blakelike wonder I stood and gazed at it on my doorstep. For what was I doing there? I, a wanderer, a pilgrim, a nomad of the desert, with no home save where the evening found me; —what was my business on that doorstep? At what commonplace had the Moon caught me with a latchkey in my hand? Do you remember what Diogenes29 replied when they wanted to know why he had asked for a statue to be erected at the public expense in his honour? I have to get off here. 她是不是间谍？我觉得我一定要小心。 Was she a Spy? I felt I must be careful. Is there anything inside my head but cotton- wool? How can I, with a mind full of grey monkeys with blue faces, call myself a Thinker? What am I anyhow? But none of them were going on—what was the good? They talked of satiety and disenchantment, of the wintry weather, of illness, of age and death. Think of it! The Past with never a beginning, the Future going on for ever and ever, and the little Present in which we live, twinkling for a second, between these black abysses. I am not really here now with you. And why should I go to the party? My life is all reminiscence and anticipation—if you can call it life, if I am not rather a kind of ghost, haunting a past that has ceased to exist, or a future that is still more shadowy and unreal. But why speak of it, after all? 卡尔爵士的消息时，像其他认识这位年轻人的人一样，我十分震惊，即使我们只听过他的名字。他的财富和英俊相貌、冒险经历，还有明智、美满的婚姻，几乎使他成了一个传奇人物。 When I read the news about Sir Eustace Carr in the morning paper, I was startled, like everyone else who knew, if only by name, this young man, whose wealth and good looks, whose adventurous travels and whose brilliant and happy marriage, had made of him an almost romantic figure. 人们不时地听说一些类似的怪事发生。但是这些行为如此反常，与我们一贯的方式和已接受的生活理念和价值观格格不入，我们大多数人很愿意接受这个熟悉的解释：这些人不正常，或者任何其他惯用的、可能靠不住的理由——经济困难、某种激情的纠缠、对丑闻暴露的恐惧。然后这场自杀事件尽可能快地被人遗忘了，关于他的记忆被挤出人们的脑海，因为想起它会使人不快。但是我有时对这些事件感到好奇，问自己这个死去的人是否把某个奇怪的使人困惑的秘密、某种激情、渴望或者难以抗拒的冲动一起带进坟墓里，而他亲近的人可能对此一无所知，验尸陪审团肯定更是无从知晓。 Every now and then one hears of some strange happening of this kind. But they are acts so anomalous, in such startling contradiction to all our usual ways and accepted notions of life and its value, that most of us are willing enough to accept the familiar explanation of insanity, or any other commonplace cause which may be alleged—financial trouble, or some passionate entanglement, and the fear of scandal and exposure. And then the Suicide is forgotten as soon as possible, and his memory shuffled out of the way as something unpleasant to think of. 卡尔爵士，也未曾与他交谈——我们所生活的世界完全不同——但是我读到过他在东方的探险、他发现的那些奇特的坟墓——在尼罗河河谷的某个地方，是不是？还有，碰巧（这是我感兴趣的主要原因所在）我一度在很反常的情况下不只一次见到他。现在我开始想这件事情。从某种意义上来讲，这不算什么大事，但是这个想法总是萦绕在我心头，认为它不知怎的，与这个最后的行为有着某种联系。除了那个突然精神错乱的说法，对于他最后的行为，并没有任何其他解释。而突然精神错乱这个解释在我看来并不完全充分，虽然我相信他的朋友和普通大众都接受了这个说法——还有更明显的原因，因为据说在他母亲的家族中有行为怪异的遗传，在某些情况下几乎等同于精神病。 I had never met or spoken to Sir Eustace Carr—the worlds we lived in were very different—but I had read of his explorations in the East, and of the curious tombs he had discovered—somewhere, was it not? Then, too, it happened and this was the main cause of my interest that at one time I had seen him more than once, under circumstances that were rather unusual. And now I began to think of this incident. In a way it was nothing, and yet the impression haunted me that it was somehow connected with this final act, for which no explanation, beyond that of sudden mental derangement, had been offered. 我发现清晰地记起那段时间的事情并不困难。几年前的十一月，我在威尼斯独自度过了那些寒冷、多雨的日子，而且非常频繁地拜访了一些教堂。我尤其对我住所附近那个小广场上沉闷的大教堂印象深刻，我经常在傍晚回家路过那座教堂时走进去。那个季节里，威尼斯所有的教堂都挂着黑色的帷幔，在拂晓和黄昏时为死者举行仪式；我走进这座巴洛克建筑，里面有扭曲的圆柱、漩涡形的装饰、堆得很高的可怕的坟墓，上面装饰着骷髅、有寓意的人物和吹喇叭的天使——一切都如此令人不安，而又如此死气沉沉、空虚、冷冰冰的——我发现这神奇的黑暗中到处是摇曳的烛光、下跪的人影、还有不协调的祷告声。我会坐在那里，而外面的黑夜夹着雨滴一起降临威尼斯；那些宫殿和绿色的运河在黑暗中隐去，大钟在低沉的天空下摇摆，把忧郁的钟声送过遥远的环礁湖。 I found it not difficult to revive with a certain vividness the memory of those cold and rainy November weeks that I had happened to spend alone, some years ago, in Venice, and of the churches which I had so frequently haunted. Especially I remembered the great dreary church in the campo near my lodgings, into which I would often go on my way to my rooms in the twilight. It was the season when all the Venice churches are draped in black, and services for the dead are held in them at dawn and twilight; and when I entered this Baroque interior, with its twisted columns and volutes and high-piled, hideous tombs, adorned with skeletons and allegorical figures and angels blowing trumpets—all so agitated, and yet all so dead and empty and frigid—I would find the fantastic darkness filled with glimmering candles, and kneeling figures, and the discordant noise of chanting. There I would sit, while outside night fell with the rain on Venice; the palaces and green canals faded into darkness, and the great bells, swinging against the low sky, sent the melancholy sound of their voices far over the lagoons. It was a handsome and thoughtful face, and I remember more than once wondering what had brought him to Venice in that unseasonable month, and why he came so regularly to this monotonous service. It was as if some spell had drawn him, and now, with my curiosity newly wakened, I asked myself what had been that spell? I also must have been affected by it, for I had been there also in his uncommunicating company. Here, I felt, was perhaps the answer to my question, the secret of the enigma that puzzled me, and as I went over my memories of that time, and revived its sombre and almost sinister fascination, I seemed to see an answer looming before my imagination. But it was an answer, an hypothesis or supposition, so fantastic, that my common-sense could hardly accept it. For I now saw that the spell which had been on us both at that time in Venice had been nothing but the spell and tremendous incantation of the Thought of Death. The dreary city with its decaying palaces and great tomb-encumbered churches had really seemed, in those dark and desolate weeks, to be the home and metropolis of the King of Terrors; and the services at dawn and twilight, with their prayers for the Dead, and funereal candles, had been the chanted ritual of his worship. 我对这个想法半信半疑，思考着它，我想到我们在古代历史中读到的那些伟大的人物和伟大的国家，他们好像生活在一种在这个伟大想法的阴影笼罩下的病态的快乐中；他们在自己周围摆满死亡的纪念品和死亡力量的可怕象征物；他们，比如埃及人，主要的兴趣不是在现在，而是在对未知的未来的虚幻探索中；不是在太阳照耀的地表，而是在地下死人的墓穴里。 Musing on this half-believed notion, I thought of the great personages and great nations we read of in ancient history, who have seemed to live with a kind of morbid pleasure in the shadow of this great Thought; who have surrounded themselves with mementoes of Death, and hideous symbols of its power, and who, like the Egyptians, have found their main interest, not in the present, but in imaginary explorations of the unknown future; not on the sunlit surface of this earth, but in the vaults and dwelling-places of the Dead beneath it. But whether it is really a clue to that unexplained mystery, or whether it is nothing more than a somewhat sinister fancy, of course I cannot say. 在庄严的音乐会上 At A Solemn Music 我坐在那里，厌恶她丰满的胸部和色彩艳丽的假发。离那些花里胡哨的长筒袜那么近，我怎么能倾听轻柔的音乐？ I sat there, hating the exuberance of her bust, and her high-coloured wig. And how could I listen to hushed music in the close proximity of those loud stockings? 然后我们的眼神交汇在一起：两人心中着了魔的琴弦被触动；我们透过同一扇窗户看到了天堂。在那一刻的音乐里、在分享的喜悦中，我的灵魂和那位高大的女士那没有实体的灵魂牵起手，像晨星般一起歌唱。 Then our eyes met: in both of us the enchanted chord was touched; we both looked through the same window into Heaven. In that moment of musical, shared delight, my soul and the unembodied soul of that large lady joined hands and sang like the Morning Stars together. How could I help buying it? I like to feel that I must follow the things I desire as—how shall I put it? They are the pledges of lost recognitions; the promise of ineffable mitigations. Like a rash exorcist, I was appalled by the spirit I had raised. For a queer second I did see us all in that inevitable mirror, but cadaverous, palsied, out-of-date,—a dusty set of old waxworks, simpering in the lumber-room of Time inanely. More and more I ask myself, as I grow older, what is the good of it all? How good this asparagus is! I often say asparagus is the most delicious vegetable of all. One can get tired of asparagus, as one can of strawberries—but I could eat tender peas for ever. Then peaches, and melons;—and there are certain pears, too, that taste like heaven. One of my favourite daydreams for the long evening of my life is to live alone, a formal, greedy, selfish old gentleman, in a square house, say, in Devonshire, with a square garden, whose walls are covered with apricots and figs and peaches: and there are precious pears, too, of my own planting, on espaliers along the paths. I shall walk out with a gold-headed cane in the autumn sunshine, and just at the ripe moment pick another pear. 不满 A Grievance 他们都有高雅的举止和无瑕的名誉；他们看来很欢迎我的来访，都聚精会神地听着我讲的轶事。只有一件事我对他们感到不满：他们在房子里摆放了许多充满陈腐的表述词语的书，我似乎只要一闻到它们令人作呕的味道就在近旁，就会产生轻微的反胃的感觉。 They are all persons of elegant manners and spotless reputations; they seem to welcome my visits, and they listen to my anecdotes with unflinching attention. I have only one grievance against them; they will keep in their houses books full of stale epithets, which, when I only seem to smell their mawkish proximity, produce in me a slight feeling of nausea. 有些人，我相信，在看到猫时会产生这种反应。 There are people, I believe, who are affected in this way by the presence of cats. 我竟然放过这样一个错误的引用，这让我怀疑自己的个性。或者，我想到，也许我的个性正在变化；我也许，像一只安静地呆在茧里的昆虫，正在经历某种奇特的蜕变？我等着看我可能会变成什么样子——一个低教会派的助理牧师？长着大胡子的少校？或许是一个注册的食品供应商？ That I should permit a misquotation like this to pass made me doubt my own identity. Or, it occurred to me, perhaps my personality was changing; I was undergoing, perhaps, like an insect in the silence of its cocoon, some curious metamorphosis? I waited to see what I might be turning into—a Low Church30 Curate? a Major with a big moustache? or a Licensed Victualler, perhaps? 维多利亚大街 Victoria Street 我们一边向威斯敏斯特大教堂走去，一边谈论着人生百态——我们走着，感到很难过。前景，我的同伴说，黑暗得难以描述。 We were talking of the state of the world as we walked towards Westminster—as we walked and were sad. The outlook, my companion said, was black beyond description. And how about the Saints and Patriarchs of the Bible? Nay, in His confabulations with His chosen people, does not the Creator of the Universe Himself make the most astounding efforts to impress upon those Hebrews His importance, His power, His glory? Wheble, who was waiting there for a bus. What a mystery Time really is, when you think of it! See, the sands are running out now while we are talking. I pay bills, post letters; I buy new bootlaces and put them in my boots. And when I set out to get my hair cut, it is with the iron face of those men of empire and unconquerable will, those Caesars and Napoleons, whose footsteps shake the earth. 等待 Waiting 我们在滑铁卢相遇；因为我们要游览同一个地方，所以我们一起坐火车去；但是当我们在那个乡村火车站下了车，她发现她的行李没运到。它们可能被运到下一站了；当工作人员打电话询问情况时，我陪她一起等待。这是一个温暖宜人的春季夜晚：肩并肩，我们安静地坐在长木凳上，面对着月台；火车开过引起的喧闹逐渐退去；天色越来越暗，静谧的天空中亮起一颗一颗的星星。 We met at Waterloo; as we were paying the same visit, we travelled in the train together; but when we got out at that country station, she found that her boxes had not arrived. They might have gone on to the next station; I waited with her while enquiries were telephoned down the line. It was a mild spring evening: side by side we sat in silence on a wooden bench facing the platform; the bustle caused by the passing train ebbed away; the dusk deepened, and one by one the stars twinkled out in the serene sky. a moment with a certain mood and colour and atmosphere of its own. 我也在这些词的声音里微醺。它们难道不是治愈我们所有疾病的灵丹妙药吗？ I, too, became slightly intoxicated by the sound of these vocables. And were they not the cure for all our ills? He had long since faced the fact that Nature had no sympathy with our hopes and fears, and was completely indifferent to our fate. The Universe, he said, was a great meaningless machine; Man, with his reason and moral judgements, was the product of blind forces, which, though they would so soon destroy him, he must yet despise. To endure this tragedy of our fate with passionless despair, never to wince or bow the head, to confront the hostile powers with high disdain, to fix with eyes of scorn the Gorgon face of Destiny, to stand on the brink of the abyss, clenching his fist at the death-pale stars—this, he said, was his attitude, and it produced, as you can imagine, a powerful impression on the company. As for me, I was carried away completely. 静止 Becalmed 我在街上走到半路，停了下来；我忘了出来要做什么事了。我想要的是什么？世界上没有什么是我想要的；我站在那里，一动不动，无欲无求，像海上的一艘船，被所有的风遗弃。我好像会站在那里直至天荒地老。 Half-way along the street I stopped; I had forgotten the errand which had brought me out. What was it I wanted? There was nothing on earth I wanted; I stood there, motionless, without desire, like a ship at sea, deserted of all winds, it seemed as if I might stand there for ever. 然后，一片云彩投下阴影，微风再度吹起涟漪，风的推动使水面变暗，重新带我启航。生活再度变得重要，充满意义；我的想象力突然被照亮，想起我急匆匆地出来是要买邮票。 Then, as with the shadow of a cloud, or ripple of the returning breeze, the wind of impulse darkened across the waters and filled my sails again. Life was again momentous, full of meaning; and radiant to my imagination the stamps I had hurried out to buy. I believe in it at all times and seasons, but especially in the Spring. Why, just think of it! True-love amid the apple-blossoms, lovers who outwake the nightingales of April, the touch of hands and lips, and the clinging of flower-soft limbs together; and all this with, for a background, the gay, musical, perfumed landscape of the Spring. Why, nothing could be more genial, Miss Tomkins, more appropriate and pretty! Then again it evaporates, it shrinks, it dwindles; and of that flood which over-brimmed the bowl of the great Cosmos there is hardly enough now left to fill a teaspoon. 安慰 Comfort 人们常说，她哀叹道，世上没有什么事情比追忆过去的快乐更令人感伤了；但是对她来说，似乎不是我们记住的方式，而是我们忘却的方式，才是生活真正的悲剧。一切都从我们身边褪去；我们的欢乐悲伤如一去不返的潮水般消失不见；我们无法阻止它们的流逝。她悲叹道，这种遗忘带来的悲伤，比我们在乎的所有事情都活得更长久；这种可以说是生命中持续不断的死亡，难道我感觉不到吗？ People often said that there was nothing sadder, she mourned, than the remembrance of past happiness; but to her it seemed that not the way we remembered, but the way we forgot, was the real tragedy of life. Everything faded from us; our joys and sorrows vanished alike in the irrevocable flux; we could not stay their fleeting. Did I not feel, she moaned, the sadness of this forgetting, this outliving all the things we care for; this constant dying, so to speak, in the midst of life? Think, for instance—. How odd you look! What are you doing in Ebury Street? Whigham, who hates the way I write, and threw my last book out of her window. Whigham was, however, an invented being; I had really come to Ebury Street for another look, in the window of a shop there, at an old Venetian mirror, in whose depths of dusky glass I had seen a dim, romantic, well-dressed figure, as I went by one day. The other day, when I walked a long way out of the Edgware Road, and stopped for tea at the Welsh Harp, on the banks of the Brent Reservoir, I found, beyond the modern frontage of this inn, a garden adorned with sham ruins and statues, and full of autumn flowers and the shimmer of clear water. Sitting there and drinking my tea—alone, as I thought at first, in the twilight—I became aware that the garden had another occupant; that at another table, not far from me, a vague woman in a shabby bonnet was sitting, with her reticule lying by her, also drinking tea and gazing at the after-glow of the sunset. An elderly spinster I thought her, a dressmaker perhaps, or a retired governess, one of those maiden ladies who live alone in quiet lodgings, and are fond of romantic fiction and solitary excursions. But where can we find them in the dingy London streets? 升降机 The Lift 我上来到底是要做什么？我气喘吁吁地站在我的卧室里，已经完全忘了我一步两个台阶地奔上楼来要做的事情。 What on earth had I come up for? I stood out of breath in my bedroom; I had completely forgotten the errand which had carried me upstairs, leaping two steps at a time. 手套！当然是我落在那里的手套。但手套有什么重要的？我自问，在一个如约翰逊博士所描述的充满罪恶与痛苦的世界里。 Gloves! Of course it was my gloves which I had left there. But what did 1 gloves matter, I asked myself, in a world, as Dr. Johnson36 describes it, bursting with Sin and Misery? 噢，天啊！我是多么厌倦这些解释自然现象的陈腐说教——这些对着机械力的美好表现大喊虚空的行为！我那想要衣冠楚楚地出门的渴望，如果它能摆脱地心引力，如果它能把七十多公斤的物件从地面举起十几米，如果它能每天都这样做，而且一天做好几次，那么它在房子里岂不是像液压升降机一样方便、了不起吗？ O stars and garters! How bored I am by this trite, moralizing way of regarding natural phenomena—this crying of vanity on the beautiful manifestations of mechanical forces. 斯隆街 Sloane Street37 我虽已步入中年，却仍然精力充沛，外出漫步的时候，如果一定要说实话，我的心中还怀着痴想，希望能有一次浪漫的邂逅。例如我走在斯隆街上，看着来往的行人，然后开始想象比我在这条大道上看到的任何面孔都要迷人的圆月般的脸蛋儿。但是接着，我产生了一些更不着边际的想法，那是不切实际的玄思冥想；我想象到的那些月亮般的面孔，好似月缺一般变得残缺，路上的行人消失无踪。不朽的理性瞧不起那只与她同处一躯之中的白日飞蛾，转向她水晶般透明的冥想的领域。我迷失于时间之外，在一片白色的静默中继续走向斯隆广场。 When I walk out, middle-aged, but still sprightly, and still, if the truth must be told, with an idiot dream in my heart of some romantic encounter, I look at the passers-by, say in Sloane Street, and then I begin to imagine moonfaces more alluring than any I see in that thoroughfare. But then again vaster thoughts visit me, remote metaphysical musings; those faces like moons I imagined begin to wane as moons wane, the passers-by vanish; and immortal Reason, disdaining the daymoth she dwells with, turns away to her crystalline sphere of contemplation. I am lost out of Time, I walk on to Sloane Square in a world of white silence. People larger than life I picture the inhabitants of those august, unfashionable houses, people with a dignity of port, an amplitude of back, an emphasis of vocabulary and conviction unknown in other regions; Dowagers and Dignitaries who have retired from a world no longer worthy of them, ex- Governors of Dominions, unavailing Viceroys, superannuated Bishops and valetudinarian Generals, who wear top-hats and drive around the Park in old-fashioned barouches;—a society, I imagine it, not frivolous, not flippant, entirely devoid of double meanings; a society in which the memory of Queen Victoria is still revered, and regrets are still felt, perhaps, for the death of the Prince Consort. 或者，就像我时常幻想的那样，这些宽敞的公馆会不会是维多利亚时代的政治家、皇室名媛和仪表堂堂的杀人犯的宅邸？这些人在附近的蜡像展览上，注视着整日喋喋不休、互相推搡的肤浅的新生代，呆滞的双眼里显示出对他们的不满。 Or, as I have sometimes fancied, are those commodious mansions the homes of the Victorian Statesmen and Royal Ladies and distinguished- looking Murderers who, in the nearby wax-work Exhibition, gaze on the shallow, modern generation which chatters and pushes all day before the glassy disapprobation of their eyes? 鸟舍 The Aviary 孔雀般的虚荣、骄傲的、五彩斑谰的有冠凤头鹦鹉，愉悦的迷恋、粉饰的空想——真是遗憾！这些来自不可能存在的天堂中的青鸟，都长了如此的尖喙利爪，让人只得将它们关进不怎么干净的笼子里。 Peacock Vanities, great, crested Cockatoos of Glory, gay Infatuations and painted Daydreams;—what a pity it is all the Blue Birds of impossible Paradises have such beaks and sharp claws, that one really has to keep them shut up in their not too-cleanly cages! 圣约翰森林 St. I had entered the precincts of St. 圣约翰森林是小说中女冒险家们放纵声色、举行奢华晚宴的地方；我经常读到那些来历不明、拥有难以置信的魅力的外国女伯爵，她们引诱年轻英俊的外事官员们来到这些别墅，在灯光昏暗、香气怡人的卧室里从他们身上窃取重要文件。但我至少从来不过分严厉地谴责这些年轻的外交官。静谧的街道上，神秘的有盖马车停下，有着动人光彩的眼眸轻闪，戴着白色手套的手透过车窗，优雅地发出召唤；他们不过是凡夫俗子，又怎么能抵御住诱惑，拒绝这充满危险又让人着迷的邀请呢？、 St. But I at least have never too severely blamed these young diplomatists. Silent is the street as the mysterious brougham pauses, lovely the eyes that flash, and graceful the white-gloved hand that beckons from the carriage-window; and how can they resist for they are only human the lure of so adventurous, so enchanting an invitation? 花园郊区 The Garden Suburb 我时常听人谈起汉普斯特德公园郊区，那里的居民试图营造一种高雅文化的氛围，也可以说，在那里重现黄金时代。但现在我必须坦白，我之所以走向那里的庭院和窄巷，完全是世俗的猎奇心理作祟。当我看到育儿法、手工艺、儿童研究协会的通知和关于轮回转世、圣杯和神圣的琐罗亚斯德的教诲的讲座通知时，恐怕当时的我哑然失笑了。但这笑声听起来多么单薄啊，在这安静的宜人之处，这美好独特的乌托邦之中！这是个充满幻想的午后，秋日的阳光在低低的云彩之下，这样的天气适合内心冥想。我沿街徒步于这座超凡脱俗的城市，感受着井井有条的秩序，看着四周漂亮的建筑，心绪平静下来。我开始觉得自己也是个理想主义者，这里就是我的精神家园。放弃电影院来这个山顶安家，似乎是个合理的计划。眼前浮现出我如何度过安逸的日子的画面，白天打理花园、做手工、听讲座，晚上细细研读世界名著。 I had often heard of the Hampstead Garden Suburb, and the attempt of its inhabitants to create an atmosphere of the Higher Culture, to recreate, as it were, the Golden Age in that region.
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