韩素音翻译大赛原文
韩素音青翻译奖赛中文原文及参考译文和解析
老来乐Delights in Growing Old六十整岁望七十岁如攀高山。
不料七十岁居然过了。
又想八十岁是难于上青天，可望不可即了。
岂知八十岁又过了。
老汉今年八十二矣。
这是照传统算法，务虚不务实。
现在不是提倡尊重传统吗?At the age of sixty I longed for a life span of seventy, a goal as difficult as a summit to be reached. Who would expect that I had reached it? Then I dreamed of living to be eighty, a target in sight but as inaccessible as Heaven. Out of my anticipation, I had hit it. As a matter of fact, I am now an old man of eighty-two. Such longevity is a grant bestowed by Nature; though nominal and not real, yet it conforms to our tradition. Is it not advocated to pay respect to nowadays?老年多半能悟道。
孔子说“天下有道”。
老子说“道可道”。
《圣经》说“太初有道”。
佛教说“邪魔外道”。
我老了，不免胡思乱想，胡说八道，自觉悟出一条真理: 老年是广阔天地，是可以大有作为的。
An old man is said to understand the Way most probably: the Way of good administration as put forth by Confucius, the Way that can be explained as suggested by Laotzu, the Word (Way) in the very beginning as written in the Bible and the Way of pagans as denounced by theBuddhists. As I am growing old, I can't help being given to flights of fancy and having my own Way of creating stories. However I have come to realize the truth: my old age serves as a vast world in which I can still have my talents employed fully and developed completely.七十岁开始可以诸事不做而拿退休金，不愁没有一碗饭吃，自由自在，自得其乐。
历届韩素音翻译大奖赛竞赛原文及译文
历届韩素音翻译大奖赛竞赛原文及译文历届韩素音翻译大奖赛竞赛原文及译文英译汉部分 (3)Hidden within Technology‘s Empire, a Republic of Letters (3)隐藏于技术帝国的文学界 (3)"Why Measure Life in Heartbeats?" (8)何必以心跳定生死？ (9)美(节选) (11)The Literature of Knowledge and the Literature of Power byThomas De Quincey (16)知识文学与力量文学托马斯.昆西 (16)An Experience of Aesthetics by Robert Ginsberg (18)审美的体验罗伯特.金斯伯格 (18)A Person Who Apologizes Has the Moral Ball in His Court by Paul Johnson (21)谁给别人道歉，谁就在道义上掌握了主动保罗.约翰逊 (21)On Going Home by Joan Didion (25)回家琼.狄迪恩 (25)The Making of Ashenden (Excerpt) by Stanley Elkin (28)艾兴登其人（节选）斯坦利.埃尔金 (28)Beyond Life (34)超越生命[美] 卡贝尔著 (34)Envy by Samuel Johnson (39)论嫉妒[英]塞缪尔.约翰逊著 (39)《中国翻译》第一届“青年有奖翻译比赛”（1986）竞赛原文及参考译文（英译汉） (41)Sunday (41)星期天 (42)四川外语学院“语言桥杯”翻译大赛获奖译文选登 (44)第七届“语言桥杯”翻译大赛获奖译文选登 (44)The Woods: A Meditation (Excerpt) (46)林间心语（节选） (47)第六届“语言桥杯”翻译大赛获奖译文选登 (50)第五届“语言桥杯”翻译大赛原文及获奖译文选登 (52)第四届“语言桥杯”翻译大赛原文、参考译文及获奖译文选登 (54) When the Sun Stood Still (54)永恒夏日 (55)CASIO杯翻译竞赛原文及参考译文 (56)第三届竞赛原文及参考译文 (56)Here Is New York (excerpt) (56)这儿是纽约 (58)第四届翻译竞赛原文及参考译文 (61)Reservoir Frogs (Or Places Called Mama's) (61)水库青蛙（又题：妈妈餐馆） (62)中译英部分 (66)蜗居在巷陌的寻常幸福 (66)Simple Happiness of Dwelling in the Back Streets (66)在义与利之外 (69)Beyond Righteousness and Interests (69)读书苦乐杨绛 (72)The Bitter-Sweetness of Reading Yang Jiang (72)想起清华种种王佐良 (74)Reminiscences of Tsinghua Wang Zuoliang (74)歌德之人生启示宗白华 (76)What Goethe's Life Reveals by Zong Baihua (76)怀想那片青草地赵红波 (79)Yearning for That Piece of Green Meadow by Zhao Hongbo (79)可爱的南京 (82)Nanjing the Beloved City (82)霞冰心 (84)The Rosy Cloud byBingxin (84)黎明前的北平 (85)Predawn Peiping (85)老来乐金克木 (86)Delights in Growing Old by Jin Kemu (86)可贵的“他人意识” (89)Calling for an Awareness of Others (89)教孩子相信 (92)To Implant In Our Children‘s Young Hearts An Undying Faith In Humanity (92)心中有爱 (94)Love in Heart (94)英译汉部分Hidden within Technology’s Empire, a Republic of Le tters 隐藏于技术帝国的文学界索尔·贝娄（1）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.我还是个“探索文学”的少年时，就经常在想：要是大街上人人都熟悉普鲁斯特和乔伊斯，熟悉T.E.劳伦斯，熟悉帕斯捷尔纳克和卡夫卡，该有多好啊！后来才知道，平民百姓对高雅文化有多排斥。
第十九届韩素音青年翻译奖参赛原文
第十九届韩素音青年翻译奖参赛原文英译汉部分：The Making of AshendenI’ve been spared a lot, one of the blessed of the earth, at least one of its lucky, that privileged handful of the dramatically prospering, the sort whose secrets are asked, like the hundred-year-old man. There is no secret, of course; most of what happens to us is simple accident. Highish birth and a smooth network of appropriate connection like a tea service written into the will. But surely something in the blood too, locked into good fortune’s dominant genes like a blast ripening in a time bomb. Set to go off, my good looks and intelligence, yet exceptional still, take away my mouthful of silver spoon and lapful of luxury. Something my own, not passed on or handed down, something seized, wrested—my good character, hopefully, my taste perhaps. What’s mine, what’s mine? Say taste—the soul’s harmless appetite.I’ve money, I’m rich. The heir to four fortunes. Grandfather on Mother’s side was a Newpert. The family held some good real estate in Rhode Island until they sold it for many times what they gave for it. Grandmother on Father’s side was a Salts, whose bottled mineral water, once available only through prescription and believed indispensable in the cure of all fevers, was the first product ever to be reviewed by the Food and Drug Administration, a famous and controversial case. The government found it to contain nothing that was actually detrimental to human beings, and it went public, so to speak. Available now over the counter, the Salts made more money from it than ever.Mother was an Oh. Her mother was the chemical engineer who first discovered a feasible way to store oxygen in tanks. And Father was Noel Ashenden, who though he did not actually invent the match-book, went into the field when it was still a not very flourishing novelty, and whose slogan, almost a poem,‘Close Cover Before Striking’(a simple stroke, as Father liked to say), obvious only after someone else has already thought of it (the Patent Office refused to issue a patent on what it claimed was merely an instruction, but Father’s company had the message on its matchbooks before his competitors even knew what was happening), removed the hazard from book matches and turned the industry and Father’s firm particularly into a flaming success overnight—Father’s joke, not mine. Later, when the inroads of Ronson and Zippo threatened the business, Father went into seclusion for six months and when he returned to us he had produced another slogan:‘For Our Matchless Friends.’It saved the industry a second time and was the second and last piece of work in Father’s life.There are people who gather in the spas and watering places of this world who pooh-pooh our fortune. Après ski, cozy in their wools, handsome before their open hearths, they scandal ize amongst themselves in whispers. ‘Imagine’, they say, ‘savedfrom ruin because of some cornball sentiment available in every bar and grill and truck stop in the country. It’s not, not...’Not what? Snobs! Phooey on the First Families. On railroad, steel mill, automotive, public utility, banking and shipping fortunes, on all hermetic legacy, morganatic and blockbuster blood-lines that change the maps and landscapes and alter the mobility patterns, your jungle wheeling and downtown dealing a stone’s throw from warfare. I come of good stock—real estate, mineral water, oxygen, matchbooks: earth, water, air and fire, the old elementals of the material universe, a bellybutton economics, a linchpin one.It is as I see it a perfect genealogy, and if I can be bought and sold a hundred times over by a thousand men in this country—people in your own town could do it, providents and trailers of hunch, I bless them, who got into this or went into that when it was eight cents a share—I am satisfied with my thirteen or fourteen million. Wealth is not after all the point. The genealogy is. That bridge-trick nexus that brought Newpert to Oh, Salts to Ashenden and Ashenden to Oh, love’s lucky longshots which, paying off, permitted me as they permit every human life! (I have this simple, harmless paranoia of the good-natured man, this cheerful awe.) Forgive my enthusiasm, that I go on like some secular patriot wrapped in the simple flag of self, a professional descendant, every day the closed-for-the-holiday banks and post offices of the heart. And why not? Aren’t my circumstances superb? Whose are better? No boast, no boast. I’ve had it easy, served up on all life’s silver platters like a satrap. And if my money is managed for me and I do no work—less work even than Father, who at least came up with those two slogans, the latter in a six-month solitude that must have been hell for that gregarious man (‘For Our Matchless Friends’: no slogan finally but a broken code, an extension of his own hospitable being, simply the Promethean gift of fire to a guest)—at least I am not ‘spoiled’ and have in me still alive the nerve endings of gratitude. If it’s miserly to count one’s blessings, Brewster Ashenden’s a miser.This will give you some idea of what I’m like:On Having an Account in a Swiss Bank: I never had one, and suggest you stay away from them too. Oh, the mystery and romance is all very well, but never forget that your Swiss bank offers no premiums, whereas for opening a savings account for 5,000 or more at First National City Bank of New York or other fine institutions you get wonderful premiums—picnic hampers, Scotch coolers, Polaroid cameras, Hudson’s Bay blankets from L. L. Bean, electric shavers, even lawn furniture. My managers always leave me a million or so to play wi th, and this is how I do it. I suppose I’ve received hundreds of such bonuses. Usually I give them to friends or as gifts at Christmas to doormen and other loosely connected personnel of the household, but often I keep them and use them myself. I’m not sti ngy. Of course I can afford to buy any of these things — and I do, I enjoy making purchases — but somehow nothing brings the joy of existence home to me more than these premiums. Something fromnothing — the two-suiter from Chase Manhattan and my own existence, luggage a bonus and life a bonus too. Like having a film star next to you on your flight from the Coast. There are treats of high order, adventure like cash in the street.Let’s enjoy ourselves, I say; let’s have fun. Lord, let us live in the sand b y the surf of the sea and play till cows come home. We’ll have a house on the Vineyard and a brownstone in the Seventies and a pied-à-terre in a world capital when something big is about to break. (Put the Cardinal in the back bedroom where the sun gilds the bay at afternoon tea and give us the courage to stand up to secret police at the door, to top all threats with threats of our own, the nicknames of mayors and ministers, the fast comeback at the front stairs, authority on us like the funny squiggle the counterfeiters miss.) Re-Columbus us. Engage us with the overlooked, a knowledge of optics, say, or a gift for the tides. (My pal, the heir to most of the vegetables in inland Nebraska, has become a superb amateur oceanographer. The marine studies people i nvite him to Wood’s Hole each year. He has a wave named for him.) Make us good at things, the countertenor and the German language, and teach us to be as easy in our amateur standing as the best man at a roommate’s wedding. Give us hard tummies behind the cummerbund and long swimmer’s muscles under the hound’s tooth so that we may enjoy our long life. And may all our stocks rise to the occasion of our best possibilities, and our humanness be bullish too.Speaking personally I am glad to be a heroic man.I am pleased that I am attractive to women but grateful I’m no bounder. Though I’m touched when married women fall in love with me, as frequently they do, I am rarely to blame. I never encourage these fits and do my best to get them over their derangements so as not to lose the friendships of their husbands when they are known to me, or the neutral friendship of the ladies themselves. This happens less than you might think, however, for whenever I am a houseguest of a married friend I usually make it a point to bring along a girl. These girls are from all walks of life—models, show girls, starlets, actresses, tennis professionals, singers, heiresses and the daughters of the diplomats of most of the nations of the free world. All walks. They tend, however, to conform to a single physical type, and are almost always tall, tan, slender and blond, the girl from Ipanema as a wag friend of mine has it. They are always sensitive and intelligent and good at sailing and the Australian crawl. They are never blemished in any way, for even something like a tiny beauty mark on the inside of a thigh or above the shoulder blade is enough to put me off, and their breaths must be as sweet at three in the morning as they are at noon. (I never see a woman who is dieting for diet sours the breath.) Arm hair, of course, is repellent to me though a soft blond down is now and then acceptable. I know I sound a prig. I’m not. I am—well, classical, drawn by perfection as to some magnetic, Platonic pole, idealism and beauty’s true North.。
第4届韩素音青年翻译比赛英译汉原文及参考译文
The BlanketFloyd DellPetey hadn’t really believed that Dad would be doing it—sending Granddad away. “Away” was what they were calling it. Not until now could he believe it of Dad.But here was the blanket that Dad had that day bought for him, and in the morning he’d be going away. And this was the last evening they’d be having together. Dad was off seeing that girl he was to marry. He’d not be back till late, and they could sit up and talk.It was a fine September night, with a silver moon riding high over the gully. When they’d washed up the supper dishes they went out on the shanty porch, the old man and the bit of a boy, taking their chairs. “I’ll get me fiddle,” said the old man, “and play ye some of the old tunes.” But instead of the fiddle he brought out the blanket. It was a big, double blanket, red, with black cross stripes.“Now, isn’t that a fine blanket!” said the old man, smoothing it over his knees. “And isn’t your father a kind man to be giving the old fellow a blanket like that to go away with? It cost something, it did—look at the wool of it! And warm it will be these cold winter nights to come. There’ll be few blankets there the equal of this one!”It was like Granddad to be saying that. He was trying to make it easier. He’d pretended all along it was he that wanting to go away to the great brick building—the government place, where he’d be with so many other old fellows having the best of everything.... But Petey hadn’t believed Dad would really do it, until this night when he brought home the blanket.“Oh, yes, it’s a fine blanket,” said Petey, and got up and went into the shanty. He wasn’t the kind to cry, and, besides, he was too old for that, being eleven. He’d just come in to fetch Granddad’s fiddle.The blanket slid to the floor as the old man took the fiddle and stood up. It was the last night they’d be having together. There wasn’t any need to say, “Play all the old tunes.” Granddad tuned up for a minute, and then said, “This is one you’ll like to remember.”The silver moon was high overhead, and there was a gentle breeze playing down the gully. He’d never be hearing Granddad play like this again. It was as well Dad was moving into that new house, away from here. He’d not want, Petey wouldn’t, to sit here on the old porch of fine evenings, with Granddad gone.The tune changed. “Here’s something gayer.” Petey sat and stared out over the gully. Dad would marry that girl. Yes, that girl who’d kissed him and slobbered over him, saying she’d try to be agood mother to him, and all.... His chair creaked as he involuntarily gave his body a painful twist.The tune stopped suddenly, and Granddad said: “It’s a poor tune, except to be dancing to.” And then: “It’s a fine girl your father’s going to marry. He’ll be feeling young again, with a pretty wife like that. And what would an old fellow like me be doing around their house, getting in the way, an old nuisance, what with my talk of aches and pains! And then there’ll be babies coming, and I’d not want to be there to hear them crying at all hours. It’s best that I take myself off, like I’m doing. One more tune or two, and then we’ll be going to bed to get some sleep against the morning, when I’ll pack up my fine blanket and take my leave. Listen to this, will you? It’s a bit sad, but a fine tune for a night like this.”They didn’t hear the two people coming down the gully path, Dad and the pretty girl with the hard, bright face like a china doll’s. but they heard her laugh, right by the porch, and the tune stopped on a wrong, high, startled note. Dad didn’t say anything, but the girl came forward and spoke to Granddad prettily: “I’ll not be seeing you leave in the morning, so I came over to say good-by.”“It’s kind of you,” said Granddad, with his eyes cast down; and then, seeing the blanket at his feet, he stopped to pick it up. “Andwill you look at this,” he said in embarrassment, “the fine blanket my son has given me to go away with!”“Yes,” she said, “it’s a fine blanket.” She felt of the wool, and repeated in surprise, “A fine blanket—I’ll say it is!” She turned to Dad, and said to him coldly, “it cost something, that.”He cleared his throat, and said defensively, “I wanted him to have the best...”The girl stood there, still intent on the blanket. “It’s double, too,” she said reproachfully to Dad.“Yes,” said Granddad, “it’s double—a fine blanket for an old fellow to be going away with.”The boy went abruptly into the shanty. He was looking for something. He could hear that girl reproaching Dad, and Dad becoming angry in his slow way. And now she was suddenly going away in a huff.... As Petey came out, she turned and called back, “All the same, he doesn’t need a double blanket!” And she ran up the gully path.Dad was looking after her uncertainly.“Oh, she’s right,” said the boy coldly. “Here, Dad”—and he held out a pair of scissors. “Cut the blanket in two.”Both of them stared at the boy, startled. “Cut it in two, I tell you, Dad!” he cried out. “And keep the other half!”“That’s not a bad idea,” said Granddad gently. “I don’t need so much of a blanket.”“Yes,” said the boy harshly, “a single blanket is enough for an old man when he’s sent away. We’ll save the other half, Dad; it will come in handy later.”“Now, what do you mean by that?” asked Dad.“I mean,” said the boy slowly,” that I’ll give it to you, Dad—when you’re old and I’m sending you—away.”There was a silence, and then Dad went over to Granddad and stood before him, not speaking. But Granddad understood, for he put out a hand and laid it on Dad’s shoulder. Petey was watching them. And he heard Granddad whisper, “It’s all right, son—I knew you didn’t mean it....” And then Petey cried.But it didn’t matter—because they were all three crying together.译文：一床双人毛毯（美）弗罗伊德•戴尔晴朗的九月的夜晚，银色的月光洒落在溪谷上。
第二十五届“韩素音青年翻译奖”竞赛原文
GlobalizationA fundamental shift is occurring in the world economy. We are moving rapidly away from a world in which national economies were relatively self-contained entities, isolated from each other by barriers to cross-border trade and investment; by distance, time zones, and language; and by national differences in government regulation, culture, and business systems. And we are moving toward a world in which barriers to cross-border trade and investment are tumbling; perceived distance is shrinking due to advances in transportation and telecommunications technology; material culture is starting to look similar the world over; and national economies are merging into an interdependent global economic system. The process by which this is occurring is commonly referred to as globalization.Correspondent: Globalization has been one of the most important factors to affect business over the last twenty years. How is it different from what existed before? Companies used to export to other parts of the world from a base in their home country. Many of the connections between exporting and importing countries had a historical basis. Today, to be competitive, companies are looking for bigger markets and want to export to every country. They want to move into the global market. To do this many companies have set up local bases in different countries. Two chief executives will talk about how their companies dealt with going global. Percy Barnevik, one of the world’s most admired business leaders when he was Chairman of the international engineering group ABB and Dick Brown of telecommunications provider Cable & Wireless.Cable & Wireless already operates in many countries and is well-placed to take advantage of the increasingly global market for telecommunications. For Dick Brown globalization involves the economies of countries being connected to each other and companies doing business in many countries and therefore having multinational accounts.Dick Brown: The world is globalizing and the telecommunications industry is becoming more and more global, and so we feel we’re well-positioned in that market place. You see currency markets are more global tied, economies are globally connected, more so nowadays with expanded trade, more and more multinational accounts are doing business in many, many more countries. We’re a company at Cable & Wireless now, well-positioned to carry the traffic and to provide the services to more and more companies that now need to get to five countries or twelve countries, we’re often there.Correspondent: When Percy Barnevik became head of the international engineering group ABB, his task was to make globalization work. He decided to divide the business into over a thousand smaller companies. In this way he believed the company could be both global and local. In answering the question “How do you make globalization work?”, Percy Barnevik describes the“global glue” that keeps the many different people in ABB together. He then looks at the need to manage the three contradictions of company: it is decentralized but centrally controlled, it is big and small at the same time and it is both global and local.Percy Barnevik: We have now for ten years after our big merger created a “global glue” where people are tied together, where they don’t internally compete, but support each other, and you have global leaders with global responsibility and your local managers working with their profit centers, and if you have the right, so to say, agenda for these people and the right structure, you can use a scale of economy and your advantages of bigness but being small. We used to say you have three contradictions: decentralized and still centrally controlled, big and small, global and local, and, of course, to try to make these contradictions work together effectively, then I think you have a big organizational competitive edge.Correspondent: Globalizations can bring advantage to a business, but how does a company go global? Dick Brown mentions three ways companies can achieve “globalness”. Firstly, companies can work together in alliances. Secondly, they can acquire or buy other companies, and thirdly they can grow organically by expanding from their existing base.Dick Brown: Well, as you go global, and a handful or more of companies are going to really push out, in my view, to be truly global companies, and some of them, maybe all of them, will also work to be local. They’ll be local in chosen markets and global in their ability to carry their customers’ needs from continent A to continent B. We want to be one of the companies that’s both global and local. Alliances are one way to be global, it’s not the only way to be global; you can acquire your way to “globalness”, you can organically grow your way to “globalness”, you can have alliances which help you get global quicker, so you take your pick.Percy Barnevik: You have to start from the top with local people who understand language, culture and so on, and I think in this global world where th e East is coming up now, that’s a winning recipe.Correspondent: ABB already found the winning recipe. Its theory of globalization has become the company’s working practice. So how do you make theory work in practice? Percy Barnevik believes that successful globalization involves getting people to work together, overcoming national, cultural barriers and making the organization customer-driven.Percy Barnevik: You see the easy thing is to have the theory, but then to make the systems work, to make people really work together, to trust each other — Americans, Europeans, Asians, to get over these national cultural barriers and create a common glue, ABB, and then make them customer-driven. If you can achieve that, and create that culture deep down then I think you have an important competitive edge.Correspondent: What Dick Brown and Percy Barnevik have shown is that there are different routes to globalization and that companies have to work hard to succeed in going global. Actually one of the disadvantages of the Global Strategy is that integrated competitive moves can lead to the sacrificing of revenues, profits, or competitive positions in individual countries — especially when the subsidiary in one country is told to attack a global competitor in order to convey a signal or divert that competitor’s resources from another nation. The challenges managers of transnational corporations face are to identify and exploit cross-border synergies and to balance local demands with the global vision for the corporation. Building an effective transnational organization requires a corporate culture that values global dissimilarities across cultures and markets.。
韩素英翻译大赛原文
Outing A.I.: Beyond the Turing TestThe idea of measuring A.I. by its ability to “pass” as a human – dramatized in countless sci- fi films – is actually as old as modern A.I. research itself. It is traceable at least to 1950 when the British mathematician Alan Turing published “Computing Machinery and Intelligence,” a paper in which he described what we now call the “Turing Test,” and which he referred to as the “imitation game.” There are different versions of the test, all of which are revealing as to why our approach to the culture and ethics of A.I. is what it is, for good and bad. For the most familiar version, a human interrogator asks questions of two hidden contestants, one a human and the other a computer. Turing suggests that if the interrogator usually cannot tell which is which, and if the computer can successfully pass as human, then can we not conclude, for practical purposes, that the computer is “intelligent”?More people “know” Turing’s foundational text than have actually read it. This is unfortunate because the text is marvelous, strange and surprising. Turing introduces his test as a variation on a popular parlor game in which two hidden contestants, a woman (player A) and a man (player B) try to convince a third that he or she is a woman by their written responses to leading questions. To win, one of the players must convincingly be who they really are, whereas the other must try to pass as another gender. Turing describes his own variation as one where “a computer takes the place of player A,” and so a literal reading would suggest that in his version the computer is not just pretending to be a human, but pretending to be a woman. It must pass as a she.Passing as a person comes down to what others see and interpret. Because everyone else is already willing to read others according to conventional cues (of race, sex, gender, species, etc.) the complicity between whoever (or whatever) is passing and those among which he or she or it performs is what allows passing to succeed. Whether or not an A.I. is trying to pass as a human or is merely in drag as a human is another matter. Is the ruse all just a game or, as for some people who are compelled to pass in their daily lives, an essential camouflage? Either way, “passing” may say more about the audience than about the performers.That we would wish to define the very existence of A.I. in relation to its ability to mimic how humans think that humans think will be looked back upon as a weird sort of speciesism. The legacy of that conceit helped to steer some older A.I. research down disappointingly fruitless paths, hoping to recreate human minds from available parts. It just doesn’t work that way. Contemporary A.I. research suggests instead that the threshold by which any particular arrangement of matter can be said to be “intelligent” doesn’t have much to do with how it reflects humanness back at us. As Stuart Russell and Peter Norvig (now director of research at Google) suggest in their essential A.I. textbook, biomorphic imitation is not how we design complex technology. Airplanes don’t fly like birds fly, and we certainly don’t try to trick birds into thinking that airplanes are birds in order to test whether those planes “really” are flying machines. Why do it for A.I. then? Today’s serious A.I. research does not focus on the Turing Test as an objective criterion of success, and yet in our popular culture of A.I., the test’s anthropocentrism holds such durable conceptual importance. Like the animals who talk like teenagers in a Disney movie, other minds are conceivable mostly by way of puerile ventriloquism.Where is the real injury in this? If we want everyday A.I. to be congenial in a humane sort of way, so what? The answer is that we have much to gain from a more sincere and disenchanted relationship to synthetic intelligences, and much to lose by keeping illusions on life support. Some philosophers write about the possible ethical “rights” of A.I. as sentient entities, but that’s not my point here. Rather, the truer perspective is also the better one for us as thinking technical creatures.Musk, Gates and Hawking made headlines by speaking to the dangers that A.I. may pose. Their points are important, but I fear were largely misunderstood by many readers. Relying on efforts to program A.I. not to “harm humans” (inspired by Isaac Asimov’s “three laws” of robotics from 1942) makes sense only when an A.I. knows what humans are and what harming them might mean. There are many ways that an A.I. might harm us that have nothing to do with its malevolence toward us, and chief among these is exactly following our well-meaning instructions to an idiotic and catastrophic extreme. Instead of mechanical failure or a transgression of moral code, the A.I. maypose an existential risk because it is both powerfully intelligent and disinterested in humans. To the extent that we recognize A.I. by its anthropomorphic qualities, or presume its preoccupation with us, we are vulnerable to those eventualities.Whether or not “hard A.I.” ever appears, the harm is also in the loss of all that we prevent ourselves from discovering and understanding when we insist on protecting beliefs we know to be false. In the 1950 essay, Turing offers several rebuttals to his speculative A.I., including a striking comparison with earlier objections to Copernican astronomy. Copernican traumas that abolish the false centrality and absolute specialness of human thought and species-being are priceless accomplishments. They allow for human culture based on how the world actually is more than on how it appears to us from our limited vantage point. Turing referred to these as “theological objections,” but one could argue that the anthropomorphic precondition for A.I. is a “pre-Copernican” attitude as well, however secular it may appear. The advent of robust inhuman A.I. may let us achieve another disenchantment, one that should enable a more reality-based understanding of ourselves, our situation, and a fuller and more complex understanding of what “intelligence” is and is not. From there we can hopefully make our world with a greater confidence that our models are good approximations of what’s out there.人工智能：超越图灵实验以人工智能“冒充”人的能力的来衡量人工智能的这个概念---已经被数不清的科幻电影搬上了荧幕---实际上已经和现代人工智能研究一样久远了。
历届韩素音翻译大奖赛竞赛原文及译文
历届韩素音翻译大奖赛竞赛原文及译文英译汉部分 (3)Beauty (excerpt) (3)美(节选) (3)The Literature of Knowledge and the Literature of Power byThomas De Quincey (8)知识文学与力量文学托马斯.昆西 (8)An Experience of Aesthetics by Robert Ginsberg (11)审美的体验罗伯特.金斯伯格 (11)A Person Who Apologizes Has the Moral Ball in His Court by Paul Johnson (14)谁给别人道歉，谁就在道义上掌握了主动保罗.约翰逊 (14)On Going Home by Joan Didion (18)回家琼.狄迪恩 (18)The Making of Ashenden (Excerpt) by Stanley Elkin (22)艾兴登其人（节选）斯坦利.埃尔金 (22)Beyond Life (28)超越生命[美] 卡贝尔著 (28)Envy by Samuel Johnson (33)论嫉妒[英]塞缪尔.约翰逊著 (33)中译英部分 (37)在义与利之外 (37)Beyond Righteousness and Interests (37)读书苦乐杨绛 (40)The Bitter-Sweetness of Reading Yang Jiang (40)想起清华种种王佐良 (43)Reminiscences of Tsinghua Wang Zuoliang (43)歌德之人生启示宗白华 (45)What Goethe's Life Reveals by Zong Baihua (45)怀想那片青草地赵红波 (48)Yearning for That Piece of Green Meadow by Zhao Hongbo (48)可爱的南京 (51)Nanjing the Beloved City (51)霞冰心 (53)The Rosy Cloud byBingxin (53)黎明前的北平 (54)Predawn Peiping (54)老来乐金克木 (55)Delights in Growing Old by Jin Kemu (55)可贵的“他人意识” (58)Calling for an Awareness of Others (58)教孩子相信 (61)To Implant In Our Children’s Young Hearts An Undying Faith In Humanity (61)英译汉部分Beauty (excerpt)美(节选)Judging from the scientists I know, including Eva and Ruth, and those whom I've read about, you can't pursue the laws of nature very long without bumping撞倒; 冲撞into beauty. “I don't know if it's the same beauty you see in the sunset,”a friend tells me, “but it feels the same.”This friend is a physicist, who has spent a long career deciphering破译(密码), 辨认(潦草字迹) what must be happening in the interior of stars. He recalls for me this thrill on grasping for the first time Dirac's⑴equations describing quantum mechanics, or those of Einstein describing relativity. “They're so beautiful,” he says, “you can see immediately they have to be true. Or at least on the way toward truth.” I ask him what makes a theory beautiful, and he replies, “Si mplicity, symmetry .对称(性); 匀称, 整齐, elegance, and power.”我结识一些科学家（包括伊娃和露丝），也拜读过不少科学家的著作，从中我作出推断：人们在探求自然规律的旅途中，须臾便会与美不期而遇。
第十七届韩素音翻译大赛英译汉部分原文[策划]
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第十七届韩素音翻译大赛英译汉部分原文Beauty (excerpt)Judging from the scientists I know, including Eva and Ruth, and those I’ve read about, you can’t pursue the laws of nature very long without bumping into beauty. “I don’t know if it’s the same beauty you see in the sunset,” a friend tells me, “but it feels the same.” This friend is a physicist, who has spent a long career deciphering what must be happening in the interior of stars. He recalls for me this thrill on grasping for the first time Dirac’s equations describing quantum mechanics, or those of Einstein describing relativity. “They’re so beautiful,” he says,” you can see immediately they have to be true. Or at least on the way toward trut h.” I ask him what makes a theory beautiful, and he replies, “Simplicity, symmetry, elegance, and power.”Why nature should conform to theories we find beautiful is far from obvious. The most incomprehensible thing about the universe, as Einstein said, is that it’s comprehensible. How unlikely, that a short—lived biped on a two--bit planet should be able to gauge the speed of light, lay bare the structure of an atom, or calculate the gravitational tug of a black hole. We’re a long way from understanding everything, but we do understand a great deal about how nature behaves. Generation after generation, we puzzle out formulas, test them, and find, to an astonishing degree, that nature agrees. An architect draws designs on flimsy paper, and her buildings stand up through earthquakes. We launch a satellite into orbit and use it to bounce messages from continent to continent. The machine on which I write these words embodies hundreds of insights into the workings of the material world, insights that are confirmed by every burst of letters on the screen, and I stare at thatscreen through lenses that obey the laws of optics first worked out in detail by Issac Newton.By discerning patterns in the universe, Newton believed, he was tracing the hand of God. Scientists in our day have largely abandoned the notion of a Creator as an unnecessary hypothesis, or at least an untestable one. While they share Newton’s faith that t he universe is ruled everywhere by a coherent set of rules, they cannot say, as scientists, how these particular rules came to govern things. You can do science without believing in a divine Legislator, but not without believing in laws.I spent my teenage years scrambling up the mountain of mathematics. Midway up the slope, I staggered to a halt, gasping in the rarefied air, well before I reached the heights where the equations of Einstein and Dirac would have made sense. Nowadays I add, subtract, multiply, and do long division when no calculator is handy, and I can do algebra and geometry and even trigonometry in a pinch, but that is about all that I’ve kept from the language of numbers. Still, I remember glimpsing patterns in mathematics that seemed as bold and beautiful as a skyful of stars.I’m never more aware of the limitations of language than when I try to describe beauty. Language can create its own loveliness, of course, but it cannot deliver to us the radiance we apprehend in the world, any more than a photograph can capture the stunning swiftness of a hawk or the withering power of a supernova. Eva’s wedding album holds only a faint glimmer of the wedding itself. All that pictures or words can do is gesture beyond themselves toward the fleeting glory that stirs our hearts. So I keep gesturing.“All nature is meant to make us think of paradise,”Thomas Merton observed. Because the Creation puts on a nonstop show, beauty is free and inexhaustible, but we need training in order to perceive more than the most obvious kinds. Even 15 billion years or so after the Big Bang, echoes of that event still linger in the form of background radiation, only a few degrees above absolute zero. Just so, I believe, the experience of beauty is an echo of the order and power that permeate the universe. To measure background radiation, we need subtle instruments; to measure beauty, we need alert intelligence and our five keen senses.Anyone with eyes can take delight in a face or a flower. You need training, however, to perceive the beauty in mathematics or physics or chess, in the architecture of a tree, the design of a bird’s wing, or the shiver of breath through a flute. For most of human history, the training has come from elders who taught the young how to pay attention. By paying attention, we learn to savor all sorts of patterns, from quantum mechanics to patchwork quilts. This predilection brings with it a clear evolutionary advantage, for the ability to recognize patterns helped our ancestors to select mates, find food, avoid predators. But the same advantage would apply to all species, and yet we alone compose symphonies and crossword puzzles, carve stone into statues, map time and space.Have we merely carried our animal need for shrewd perceptions to an absurd extreme? Or have we stumbled onto a deep congruence between the structure of our minds and the structure of the universe?I am persuaded the latter is true. I am convinced there’s more to beauty than biology, more than cultural convention. It flows around and through us in such abundance, and in such myriad forms, as to exceed by a wide margin any mereevolutionary need. Which is not to say that beauty has nothing to do with survival: I think it has everything to do with survival. Beauty feeds us from the same source that created us. It reminds us of the shaping power that reaches through the flower stem and through our own hands. It restores our faith in the generosity of nature. By giving us a taste of the kinship between our own small minds and the great Mind of the Cosmos, beauty reassures us that we are exactly and wonderfully made for life on this glorious planet, in this magnificent universe.I find in that affinity a profound source of meaning and hope.A universe so prodigal of beauty may actually need us to notice and respond, may need our sharp eyes and brimming hearts and teeming minds, in order to close the circuit of Creation.美在其中（节选）我认识的科学家，像伊凡和卢斯，还有我通过阅读了解的科学家，普遍认为人们在探索自然界规律的过程中，很快便能与美不期而遇。
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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.The journey begins by recognising the role of fear in irritability in couples. Behind most outbursts are cack-handed attempts to teach the other person something. There are things we’d like to point out, flaws that we can discern, remarks we feel we really must make, but our awareness of how to proceed is panicked and hasty. We give cack-handed, mean speeches, which bear no faith in the legitimacy (even the nobility) of the act of imparting advice. And when our partners are on the receiving end of t hese irritable “lessons”, they of course swiftly grow defensive and brittle in the face of suggestions which seem more like mean-minded and senseless assaults on their very natures rather than caring, gentle attempts to address troublesome aspects of joint life.The prerequisite of calm in a teacher is a degree of indifference as to the success or failure of the lesson. One naturally wants for things to go well, but if an obdurate pupil flunks trigonometry, it is – at base – their problem. Tempers can stay even because individual students do not have very much power over teachers’ lives. Fortunately, as not caring too much turns out to be a critical aspect of successful pedagogy.Yet this isn’t an option open to the fearful, irritable lover. They feel ineluctably led to deliver their “lessons” in a cataclysmic, frenzied manner (the door slams very loudly indeed) not because they are insane or vile (though one could easily draw these conclusions) so much as because they are terrified; terrified of spoiling what remains of their years on the planet in the company of someone who it appears cannot in any way understand a pivotal point about conversation, or cutlery, or the right time to order a taxi.One knows intuitively, when teaching a child, that only the utmost care and patience will ever work: one must never shout, one has to use extraordinary tact, one has to make ten compliments for every one negative remark and one must leave oneself plenty of time…All this wisdom we reliably forget in love’s cla ssroom, sadly because increasing the level of threat seldom hastens development. We do not grow more reasonable, more accepting of responsibility and more accurate about our weaknesses when our pride has been wounded, our integrity is threatened and our self-esteem has been violated.The complaint against the irritable person is that they are getting worked up over “nothing”. But symbols offer a way of seeing how a detail can stand for something much bigger and more serious. The groceries placed on the wrong table are not upsetting at all in themselves. But symbolically they mean your partner doesn’t care about domestic order; they muddle things up; they are messy. Or the question about one’s day is experienced as a symbol of interrogation, a lack of priva cy and a humiliation (because one’s days rarely go well enough).The solution is, ideally, to concentrate on what the bigger issue is. Entire philosophies of life stir and collide beneath the surface of apparently petty squabbles. Irritations are the outward indications of stifled debates between competing conceptions of existence. It’s to the bigger themes we need to try to get.In the course of discussions, one might even come face-to-face with that perennially surprising truth about relationships: that the other person is not an extension of oneself that has, mysteriously, gone off message. They are that most surprising of things, a different person, with a psyche all of their own, filled with a perplexing number of subtle, eccentric and unforeseen reasons for thinking as they do.The decoding may take time, perhaps half an hour or more of concentrated exploration for something that had until then seemed as if it would more rightfully deserve an instant.We pay a heavy price for this neglect; every conflict that ends in sour stalemate is a blocked capillary within the heart of love. Emotions will find other ways to flow for now, but with the accumulation of unresolved disputes, pathways will fur and possibilities for trust and generosity narrow.A last point. It may just be sleep or food: when a baby is irritable, we rarely feel the need to preach about self-control and a proper sense of proportion. It’s not simply that we fear the infant’s intellect might not quite b e up to it, but because we have a much better explanation of what is going on. We know that they’re acting this way –and getting bothered by any little thing – because they are tired, hungry, too hot or having some challenging digestive episode.The fact is, though, that the same physiological causes get to us all our lives. When we are tired, we get upset more easily; when we feel very hungry, it takes less to bother us. But it is immensely difficult to transfer the lesson in generosity (and accuracy) that we gain around to children and apply it to someone with a degree in business administration or a pilot’s license, or to whom we have been married for three-and-a-half years.We should try to see irritability for what it actually is: a confused, inarticulate, often shameful attempt to get us to understand how much someone is suffering and how urgently they need our help. We should – when we can manage it – attempt to help them out.。