新经典第二届翻译大赛译文原文
Predators
Her body moves with the frankness that comes from solitary habits. But solitude is only a human presumption. Every quiet step is thunder to beetle life underfoot; every choice is a world made new for the chosen. All secrets are witnessed.
If someone in this forest had been watching her—a man with a gun, for instance, hiding inside a copse of leafy beech trees—he would have noticed how quickly she moved up the path and how direly she scowled at the ground ahead of her feet. He would have judged her an angry woman on the trail of something hateful.
He would have been wrong. She was frustrated, it’s true, to be following tracks in the mud she couldn’t identity. She was used to being sure. But if she’d troubled to inspect her own mind on this humid, sunlit morning, she would have declared herself happy. She loved the air after a hard rain, and the way a forest of dripping leaves fills itself with a sibilant percussion that empties your head of words. Her body was free to follow its own rules: a long-legged gait too fast for companionship, unself-conscious squats in the path where she needed to touch broken foliage, a braid of hair nearly as thick as her forearm falling over her shoulder to sweep the ground whenever she bent down. Her limbs rejoiced to be outdoors again, out of her tiny cabin whose log walls had grown furry and overbearing during the long spring rains. The frown was pure concentration, nothing more. Two years alone had given her a blind person’s indifference to the look on her own face.
All morning the animal trail had led her uphill, ascending the mountain, shirting a rhododendron slick, and now climbing into an old-growth forest whose steepness had spared it from ever being logged. But even here, where a good oak-hickory canopy sheltered the ridge top, last night’s rain had pounded through hard enough to obscure the tracks. She knew the animal’s size from the path it had left through the glossy undergrowth of mayapples, and that was enough to speed up her heart. It could be what she’d been looking for these two years and more. This lifetime. But to know for sure she needed details, especially the faint claw mark beyond the toe pad that distinguished canid from feline. That would be the first thing to vanish in a hard rain, so it wasn’t going to appear to her now, however hard she looked. Now it would take more than tracks, and on this sweet, damp morning at the beginning of the world, that was fine with her. She could be a patient tracker. Eventually the animal would give itself away with a mound of scat (which might have dissolved in the rain, too) or something else, some sign particular to its species. A bear will leave claw marks on trees and even bite the bark sometimes, though this was no bear. It was the size of a German shepherd, but no house pet, either. The dog that had laid this trail, if dog it was, would have to be a wild and hungry one to be out in such a rain.
She found a spot where it had circled a chestnut stump, probably for scent marking. She studied the stump: an old giant, raggedly rotting its way backward into
the ground since its death by ax or blight. Toadstools dotted the humans at its base, tiny ones, brilliant orange, with delicately ridged caps like open parasols. The downpour would have obliterated such fragile things; these must have popped up in the few hours since the rain stopped—after the animal was here, the. Inspired by its ammonia. She studied the ground for a long time, unconscious of the elegant length of her nose and chin in profile, unaware of her left hand moving near her face to disperse a cloud of gnats and push stray hair out of her eyes. She squatted, steadied herself by placing her fingertips in the moss at the foot of the stump, and pressed her face to the musky old wood. Inhaled.
“Cat,” she said softly, to nobody. Not what she’d hoped for, but a good surprise to find evidence of a territorial bobcat on this ridge. The mix of forests and wetlands in these mountains could be excellent core habitat for cat, but she knew they mostly kept to the limestone river cliffs along the Virginia-Kentucky border. Aad yet here one was. It explained the cries she’d heard two nights ago, icy shrieks in the rain, like a woman’s screaming. She’d been sure it was a bobcat but still lost sleep over it. No human could fail to be moved by such human-sound anguish. Remembering it now gave her a shiver as she balance her weight on her toes and pushed herself back upright to her feet.
And there he stood, looking straight at her. He was dressed in boots and camouflage and carried a pack larger than hers. His rifle was no joke—a thirty-thirty, it looked like. Surprise must have stormed all over her face before she thought to arrange it for human inspection. It happened, that she ran into hunters up here. But she always saw them first. This one had stolen her advantage—he’d seen inside her.
“Eddie Bondo,”is what he’d said, touching his hat brim, though it took her a moment to work this out.
“What?”
“That’s my name.”
“Good Lord,” she said, able to breathe out finally, “I didn’t ask your name.”
“You needed to know it, though.”
Cocky, she thought. Or cooked, rather. Like a rifle, ready to go off. “What would I need your name for? You fixing to give me a story I’ll want to tell later?” she asked quietly. It was a tactic learned from her father, and the way of mountain people in general—to be quiet when most agitated.
“That I can’t say. But I won’t bite.” He grinned—apologetically, it seemed. He was very much younger than she. His left hand reached up to his shoulder, fingertips
just brushing the barrel of the rifle strapped to his shoulder. “And I don’t shoot girls.”
“Well. Wonderful news.”
Bite, he’d said, with the notherner’s clipped i. An outsider, intruding on this place like kudzu vines. He was not very tall but deeply muscular in the way that shows up through a man’s clothing, in his wrists and neck and posture: a build so accustomed to work that it seems tensed even when at ease. He said, “You sniff stumps, I see.”
“I do.”
“You got a good reason for that.”
“Yep.”
“You going to tell me what it is?”
“Nope.”
Another pause. She watched his hands, but what pulled on her was the dark green glint of his eyes. He observed her acutely, seeming to evaluate her hill-inflected vowels for the secrets behind her “yep”and “nope”. His grin turned down on the corners instead of up, asking a curved parenthetical question above his right-angled chin. She could not remember a more compelling combination of features on any man she’d ever seen.
“捕食者”
她的身体动作与坦率，从孤独的习惯。但是，孤独只是一个人的推定。每一个安静的第一步是迅雷甲虫生活在脚下，每一次选择，是一个世界，新的选择。所有的秘密都亲眼目睹。
如果有人在这片森林已被枪看她一个人，例如，隐藏在一个树木茂盛的山毛榉矮林树，他会注意到她如何迅速向上移动路径和如何direly她皱起了眉头，在她的地面前进脚。他的判断，她生气的女人东西可恶的踪迹。
他会一直是错的。她很沮丧，这是真的，要在泥泞中，她可能没有标识下面的轨道。她被用来确定。但是，如果她的困扰，以检查在这个潮湿，阳光明媚的早晨她自己的头脑，她会宣布自己快乐。她爱的空气，经过艰苦的雨和方式淋漓叶森林填充与清空你的字头的咝咝声敲击本身。她的身体是自由的按照自己的规则：陪伴一个长脚的步态太快，在路径unself自觉蹲的地方，她需要一触即碎枝叶的头发编织在她的肩膀她的前臂几乎一样厚下降每当她弯下腰，打扫地面。她的四肢高兴她的小机舱的墙壁增长毛茸茸在漫长的春雨和霸道的日志，再在室外。皱眉纯浓度，仅此而已。两年里给了她一个失明的人的冷漠，就看她自己的脸。
动物的线索，导致所有的早晨，她上山，升山，衬衫杜鹃华而不实，现在攀登到一个古老的森林免于被记录的陡度。但即使在这里，良好的橡木，胡桃木树冠庇护脊顶，昨晚的雨敲打通过努力不够掩盖的轨道。她知道动物的大小，从它通过mayapples光泽林下的路径和足够的加快她的心脏。这可能是她一直寻找这两年多。这一辈子。但肯定知道，她需要的细节，特别是隐隐超越杰出的猫犬科动物的脚趾垫爪标志。这将是消失在硬雨的第一件事情，所以它不会出现她现在不过硬，她看着。现在，它会采取更比轨道，并在这甜蜜的，潮湿的早晨开始的世界，那是用她精细的。她可能是一个病人的跟踪。最终的动物会给自己的散射的土堆（有可能溶解在雨中，也），或别的东西，特别是其物种的一些迹象。熊在树上留下爪印，有时甚至咬树皮，虽然这是没有承担。这是一只德国牧羊犬的大小，但没有房子的宠物。，奠定了这条古道的狗，如果狗它是，本来是一个野生和饥饿的人在这样的雨水。
她发现一个点，它盘旋可能栗子残端，气味标记。她研究的残端：一个古老的巨人，raggedly腐烂渗入地下的方式落后，因为其AX或疫病死亡。Toadstools 点缀在它的基础，微小的，灿烂的橙色与微妙的山脊像打开遮阳伞帽，人类。大雨将抹杀这种脆弱的东西，这些都必须在几个小时弹出以来雨停后的动物在这里。灵感来自其氨。她学习了很长一段时间的地上，不省人事，她的鼻子和下巴轮廓的优雅长度，不知道她的左手手靠近她的脸移动，驱散了蚊蚋云和推流浪的头发，她的眼睛。她蹲下，走稳自己脚下的树桩放置在苔她的指尖，按下她的脸，老木麝香。吸入。
“猫”，她轻轻地说，没有人。不是她所希望的，但一个好的惊喜地发现了这山脊上的领土山猫的证据。在这些山区的森林和湿地的组合，可猫优秀的核心栖息地，但她知道，他们大多保持沿弗吉尼亚州，肯塔基州边界的石灰石河悬崖。AAD 尚未在这里。它解释说她前天晚上听到呼喊声，像冰冷的尖叫声在雨中，一个女人的尖叫。她一直知道它是山猫，但仍然失去了睡眠。没有人类可以将这种人类的声音痛苦动议失败。记住它给了她一哆嗦，因为她对她的脚趾之间取得平衡她的体重和自己推回直立她的脚。
在那里，他站着，直望着她。他穿着靴子和伪装，并进行一包比她大。他的枪可不是闹着玩的一个第三第三，它看上去像。惊喜必须有在她的脸上，她冲进安排供人查阅。它发生了，这里跑了过来，她进入猎人。但她总是看到他们第一次。这人偷了她的优势he'd她里面看到。
“埃迪邦多”，是他说，抚摸他的帽檐，虽然它花费了她片刻工作这一点。
“什么？”
“这是我的名字。”
“天哪，”她说，能够呼吸到了最后，“我没有问你的名字。”
“你需要知道它，但。”
趾高气扬，她想。或熟的，而不是。像一支步枪，准备走下车。“什么，我需要您的姓名？你固定给我一个故事，我将要告诉后来呢？“她静静地问。它是从她的父亲和山区人民路学一招，一般要安静时最激动。
“那我不能说。但我不会咬人。“他笑着歉意，似乎。他十分比她年轻。他的左手达到了他的肩膀，指尖刚刷完绑在他的肩膀步枪的枪管。“我不拍女孩。”
“好了。好消息“。
咬一口，他说，与notherner的裁剪一一个局外人，在这个地方像葛藤藤入侵。他不是非常高，但显示的方式，通过一个男人的衣服，在他的手腕和颈部和姿势的肌肉深：构建已经习以为常的工作，它似乎绷得紧紧的，即使在缓解。他说：“你嗅出树桩，我明白了。”
“我做的。”
“你有一个很好的理由。”
“是的。”
“你要告诉我它是什么？”
“不。”
又过了一会。她看着他的手，但她拉到了他的眼睛暗绿色闪烁。他观察她的敏锐，似乎来评价她的“叶先生”：“不”背后的秘密，她的山屈折元音。他的笑容拒绝，而不是向上的角落，要求上述他的下巴直角弯括号的问题。她不记得上任何她见过的男子更引人注目的功能组合。
原文加翻译Growingpains
牛津高中英语模块一第二单元Growing pains Growing pains Many teenagers feel lonely, as if no one understands them and the changes they are going through. Day by day, everything seems different, yet the same. Life never seems to be going fast enough; yet, in other ways, like a race car, life seems to be rushing too fast and even going out of control. Has anyone else ever felt this way? These feelings are a common part of adolescence—the time of life between child and adult. And, though it may some times be difficult to believe, you are not alone—every adult has gone through adolescence, and your friends are going through it right now along with you. It is common for teenagers to feel lonely and misunderstood. These feelings can be thought of as growing pains—the difficulties that teenagers face as they grow to adults. As teenagers grow, it is normal for them to become confused with the changing world both inside and outside of them. During adolescence, teenagers go through great physical changes. They grow taller and their voices get deeper, among many other developments. Along with these physical changes, there come many psychological changes. Boys and girls tend to be different in this regard. Many boys become risk-takers—they want to find their own limits and the limits of the world around them, but may not have the wisdom to make good choices in their behavior. At the same time, girls often want someone—anyone—to talk to, as they try to deal with their strong feelings. In the social world, as teenagers get older, they struggle to depend on themselves. They may badly want and need their parents’love, yet feel distant; they may want to be part of the group, yet desire independence. Since teenagers have difficulty balancing these needs, they often question who they are and how they fit in society. The good news is that these kinds of growing pains do not last. In the end everything turns out OK—the teenager becomes a healthy adult, and this period of change and challenge is traded for the changes and challenges of grown-up life. 好在这些成长的烦恼并不会持久。最终一切都会好起来——青少年成长为健康的成年人，而青春期的变化和挑战则转变为成人生活中的种种变化和挑战。在大千社会中，随着青少年长大，他们努力地自力更生。他们或许迫切需要父母的关爱，却又感觉疏远；他们或许想要成为团体的一员，但又渴望独立。正因为青少年们在平衡这些需要时有困难，所以他们经常质疑自己到底是谁以及怎样融入社会。与这些生理变化同时而来的，还有很多心理上的变化。男孩和女孩在这方面往往有所不同。很多男孩成为危险尝试者——他们希望找到自己的局限和他们周边世界的局限，但也许并不具有对其行为作出正确抉择的智慧。而与此同时，女孩则通常需要和某个人——或任何人——进行交谈，因为她们试图面对自己强烈的情感。在青少年成长的时候，对自己无论体内还是体外的状态变化感到困惑对他们而言是正常现象。在青春期，青少年经历着身体上的巨大变化。他们个子长高，声音变低，还有很多其他的成长发育。这些感觉是青春期——介于孩童和成人之间的人生阶段——的正常组成部分。而且，虽然有时难以相信，并非只有你才是这样——每一个成年人都经历过青春期，而你的朋友和你一样正经历这个阶段。对青少年而言，感到孤独和被误解是很普遍的。这些情感可以看作是成长的烦恼——是青少年迈向成年时所面对的困难。成长的烦恼很多青少年感到孤独，好像没有人理解他们以及他们正在经历的变化。日子一天天过去，而所有事情似乎都是不同的，可又都是一成不变的。生活似乎从不过得足够快；而从别的方面看，生活似乎过得太快甚至于失控，像开赛车一样。别的人也有过同感么？ Home alone Mom and Dad arrive back from vacation a day earlier than expected. The curtains are closed and the living room is dark when Mom and Dad enter. Dad: It’s so nice to be home!
韩素音翻译大赛原文
Irritability is the tendency to get upset for reasons that seem – to other people – to be pretty minor. Your partner asks you how work went and the way they ask makes you feel intensely agitated. Your partner is putting knives and forks on the table before dinner and you mention (not for the first time) that the fork should go on the left hand side, not the right. They then immediately let out a huge sigh and sweep the cutlery onto the floor and tell you that you can xxxx-ing do it yourself if you know better. It was the most minor of criticisms and technically quite correct. And now they’ve exploded. There is so much irritability around and it exacts a huge daily cost on our collective lives, so we deserve to get a lot more curious about it: what is really going on for the irritable person? Why, really, are they getting so agitated? And instead of blaming them for getting het up about “little things”, we should do them the honour of working out why, in fact, these things may not be so minor after all.
韩素英翻译比赛原文
参赛原文： 英译汉原文 Hidden Within Technology’s Empire, a Republic of Letters When I was a boy “discovering literature”, I used to think how wonderful it would be if every other person on the street were familiar with Proust and Joyce or T. E. Lawrence or Pasternak and Kafka. Later I learned how refractory to high culture the democratic masses were. Lincoln as a young frontiersman read Plutarch, Shakespeare and the Bible. But then he was Lincoln. Later when I was traveling in the Midwest by car, bus and train, I regularly visited small-town libraries and found that readers in Keokuk, Iowa, or Benton Harbor, Mich., were checking out Proust and Joyce and even Svevo and Andrei Biely. D. H. Lawrence was also a favorite. And sometimes I remembered that God was willing to spare Sodom for the sake of 10 of the righteous. Not that Keokuk was anything like wicked Sodom, or that Proust?s Charlus would have been tempted to settle in Benton Harbor, Mich. I seem to have had a persistent democratic desire to find evidences of high culture in the most unlikely places. For many decades now I have been a fiction writer, and from the first I was aware that mine was a questionable occupation. In the 1930?s an elderly neighbor in Chicago told me that he wrote fiction for the pulps. “The people on the block wonder why I don?t go to a job, and I?m seen puttering around, trimming the bushes or painting a fence instead of working in a factory. But I?m a writer. I sell to Argosy and Doc Savage,” he said with a certain gloom. “They wouldn?t call that a trade.” Probably he noticed that I was a bookish boy, likely to sympathize with him, and perhaps he was trying to warn me to avoid being unlike others. But it was too late for that. From the first, too, I had been warned that the novel was at the point of death, that like the walled city or the crossbow, it was a thing of the past. And no one likes to be at odds with history. Oswald Spengler, one of the most widely read authors of the early 30?s, taught that our tired old civilization was ve ry nearly finished. His advice to the young was to avoid literature and the arts and to embrace mechanization and become engineers.
论语十二章原文加翻译
论语十二章原文加翻译 Document serial number【NL89WT-NY98YT-NC8CB-NNUUT-NUT108】
《论语》十二章翻译 1.子曰：“学而时习之，不亦说乎？有朋自远方来，不亦乐乎？人不知而不愠，不亦君子乎？” 翻译：孔子说：“学了，然后按一定的时间去复习它，不也是很愉快吗？有志同道合的人从远方来，不也快乐吗？人家不了解我，我却不怨恨，不也是道德上有修养的人吗？” 2.曾子曰：“吾日三省吾身：为人谋而不忠乎？与朋友交而不信乎？传不习乎？” 翻译：曾子说：“我每天多次反省自己：替别人办事是否尽心竭力了呢？同朋友交往是否诚实呢？老师传授给我的知识是否复习了呢？” 3.子曰：“吾十有五而志于学，三十而立，四十而不惑，五十而知天命，六十而耳顺，七十而从心所欲，不逾矩。” 翻译：孔子说：“我十五岁立志学习，三十岁立足于社会，四十掌握了知识而不致迷惑，五十岁了解并顺应了自然规律，六十岁听到别人说话就能明辨是非真假，七十岁可以随心所欲，又不超出规矩” 4.子曰：“温故而知新，可以为师矣。” 翻译：孔子说:"在温习旧知识后,能有新体会,新发现,这样的人是可以当老师的." 5.子曰：“学而不思则罔，思而不学则殆。” 翻译：孔子说:"只读书却不思考,就会迷惑而无所适从;只是空想却不读书,就会有害. 6.子曰：“贤哉回也，一箪食，一瓢饮，在陋巷，人不堪其忧，回也不改其乐。贤哉回也。” 翻译：∶“颜回的品德多么高尚啊，！吃的是一小筐饭，喝的是一瓢水，住在穷陋的小房中，别人都受不了这种贫苦，颜回却仍然不改变他好学的乐趣。“颜回的品德多么高尚啊！” 7.子曰：“知之者不如好之者，好之者不如乐之者。 翻译：孔子说：“对于学习，知道怎么学习的人，不如爱好学习的人；爱好学习的人，又不如以学习为乐趣的人。” 8.子曰：“饭疏食饮水，曲肱而枕之，乐亦在其中矣。不义而富且贵，于我如浮云。 ” 翻译：孔子说：“吃粗粮，喝白水，弯着胳膊当枕头，乐趣也就在这中间了。用不正当的手段得来的富贵，对于我来讲就像是天上的浮云一样。” 9、子曰:“三人行，必有我师焉。则其善者而从之，其不善者而改之。” 翻译：孔子说：三个人走在一起，其中必定会有我的老师。拿他们的优点来自己学习，拿他们的缺点来自己改过。 10、子在川上曰：逝者如斯夫，不舍昼夜。 翻译：孔子站在河岸上说，过去的就像这流水，白天和夜晚都在流 11、三军可夺帅也匹夫不可夺志也 翻译：军队可以被夺去主帅，男子汉却不可被夺去志气。
2015年韩素音翻译大赛翻译原文
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原文及翻译
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