英語(yǔ)高級(jí)筆譯考試：筆譯實(shí)務(wù)練習(xí)

1、The Deathof the MothVirginia WoolfMoths that fly by day are notproperly to be called moths; they do not excite that pleasant sense of darkautumn nights and ivy-blossom which the commonest yellow-underwing asleep inthe shadow of the curtain never fails to rouse in us. They are hybridcreatures, neithe

2、r gay like butterflies nor sombre like their own species.Nevertheless the present specimen, with his narrow hay-coloured wings, fringedwith a tassel of the same colour, seemed to be content with life. It was apleasant morning, mid-September, mild, benignant, yet with a keener breath thanthat of the

3、summer months. The plough was already scoring the field oppositethe window, and where the share had been, the earth was pressed flat andgleamed with moisture. Such vigour came rolling遇不堪，飛蛾卻仍在盡情享受，看到這種熱情不禁引人唏噓。它勁兒十足地飛到窗格的一角，在那兒停了一秒鐘之后，穿 越窗面飛到另一角。除了飛到第三然后又是第四角，它還能 做什么呢?這就是它能做的一切，雖然戶外丘陵廣袤，天空無(wú)際，遠(yuǎn)處的房屋炊煙

4、繚繞，海上的輪船不時(shí)發(fā)出引人遐思 的汽笛聲。飛蛾能做到的事，它都做了。注視著它的時(shí)候， 我覺得在它羸弱的小身體里，仿佛塞進(jìn)了一縷纖細(xì)然而冼煉 的世間奇?zhèn)サ幕盍?。每?dāng)它飛越窗面，我總覺得有一絲生命 之光亮起。飛蛾雖小，甚至微缺乏道，卻也是生靈。然而，正因?yàn)樗⑷狈Φ?，正因?yàn)樗院?jiǎn)單的形式表達(dá)了從翻開的窗戶滾滾涌進(jìn)并在我和其他人大腦錯(cuò)綜復(fù)雜的 狹縫中沖擊而過的一種活力，飛蛾不但引人唏噓，還同樣令 人驚嘆，使人感到似乎有誰(shuí)取來(lái)一顆晶瑩的生命之珠，以盡 可能輕盈的手法飾以茸羽之后，使其翩蹌起舞，左右飛旋, 從而向我們顯示生命的真諦。這樣展示在人們的面前，飛蛾 使人無(wú)法不嘖嘖稱奇，而在目睹飛蛾弓背凸現(xiàn)的

5、模樣的同 時(shí)，看它妝扮著又像背負(fù)了重荷，因此動(dòng)作既謹(jǐn)慎又滯重, 人們不禁會(huì)全然忘記生命是怎么一回事。人們倒是會(huì)又一次 想到，生命假設(shè)以另一種不同于飛蛾的形態(tài)誕生將可能變成什 么，而這種想法自會(huì)使人以某種憐憫的心情去觀察飛蛾的簡(jiǎn) 單動(dòng)作。過了一會(huì)，飛蛾像是飛得累了，便在陽(yáng)光下的窗沿上落停。飛舞的奇觀已經(jīng)結(jié)束，我便把它忘了。待我抬起頭來(lái)， 注意力又被它吸引了去，只見它在試圖再次飛起，可是因?yàn)?身體已太僵直，要不就是姿態(tài)別扭，而只能撲閃著翅膀，落 到窗玻璃的底部。當(dāng)它掙扎著往頂部飛時(shí)，它已力不從心了。因?yàn)槲艺龑Ｗ⒂谄渌虑?，所以只是心不在焉地看著飛蛾徒 勞的撲騰，同時(shí)，無(wú)意識(shí)地等著它再一次飛起，猶如

6、等著一 臺(tái)暫時(shí)停轉(zhuǎn)的機(jī)器重新開始而不去深究停轉(zhuǎn)的原因。也許撲 騰了七次，飛蛾終于從木質(zhì)窗沿滑下，抖動(dòng)著雙翅，仰天掉 在窗臺(tái)上。它這種絕望無(wú)助的體位喚回了我的注意，我頓時(shí) 意識(shí)到飛蛾陷入了困境，它的細(xì)腿一陣亂蹬，卻全無(wú)結(jié)果，它再也無(wú)法把身體挺直。我手持一支鉛筆朝它伸去，想幫它 翻一個(gè)身，然而就在這時(shí)我認(rèn)識(shí)到，撲騰失敗和姿態(tài)別扭都 是死之將至的表征。于是，我放下了鉛筆。細(xì)腿又抖動(dòng)了一次。我像是為了尋找飛蛾與之搏斗的仇 敵，便朝戶外望去。那兒發(fā)生了什么?大概已是中午時(shí)分。 田疇勞作業(yè)已停止。原先的奔忙已被靜止所取代。鳥兒飛往 小溪覓食;轅馬立停。但是，那股力量依然聚集在那兒，一股 冷漠超然、非人格化

7、、不針對(duì)任何具體對(duì)象的力量。不知出 于什么原因，與枯灰色的小飛蛾作對(duì)的，正是這股力量。試 圖抗拒這股力量，全然無(wú)用，我所能做的，唯有看著飛蛾軟 弱的細(xì)腿作出非凡的掙扎，抵拒那漸漸接近的毀滅偉力。毀 滅偉力，只要它愿意，本可埋沒整個(gè)一座城池;除了城池，還 可奪去千萬(wàn)人的生命。我知道，與死神作搏斗，世間萬(wàn)物都 無(wú)取勝的可能。雖說(shuō)如此，因?yàn)榻钇Ａ叨№螅?xì)腿 又抖動(dòng)起來(lái)。這最后的抗?fàn)幋_屬英勇超凡，而掙扎又是如此 之狂暴，飛蛾竟然最終翻身成功了。當(dāng)然，你定會(huì)同情求生 的一方。與此同時(shí)，在無(wú)人過問也無(wú)人知曉的情況下，這微 缺乏道的小飛蛾為了維持既無(wú)他人重視也無(wú)他人意欲保存 的生命，竟對(duì)如此巨大的偉

8、力作出這樣強(qiáng)悍的拼搏，這更使 人受到異樣的感動(dòng)。不知怎么的，我又一次見到了那晶瑩的 生命之珠。雖說(shuō)意識(shí)到一切全是徒勞，我重又提起鉛筆。然 而正在這時(shí)，確鑿無(wú)誤的死亡征狀出現(xiàn)了。蛾體先是松馳下來(lái)，旋即變得僵硬。搏斗告終。這微缺乏道的小生命死了。看著飛蛾的尸體，看著這股巨大的偉力把這么一個(gè)可憐巴巴 的對(duì)手捎帶著戰(zhàn)勝，我心頭充滿了驚詫感。幾分鐘之前，生 命曾顯得那樣奇謫。如今死亡也是同樣的奇謫。飛蛾端正了 身體，安安靜靜躺在那兒，端莊而毫無(wú)怨尤。哦，是的，它 好像在說(shuō)，死神畢竟比我強(qiáng)大。AltogetherAutumnIt s time to plant the bulbs. But Iput it

9、 off as longas possible because planting bulbs mean making space inborders which are still flowering. Pulling out all the annuals which nature hasallowed to erupt in overpowering purple, orange and pink, a final cry of joy.That would almost be murder, and so I wait until the first night frostanaesth

10、etizes all the flowers with a cold, a creaky crust that causes them towither; a very gentle death. Now I wander through my garden indecisively, tryingto hold on to the last days of late summer.The trees are plump with leafysplendor. The birch is softly rustling gold, which is now fluttering down lik

11、ean unending stream of confetti. Soon November will be approaching with itsautumn storms and leaden clouds hanging above your head like soaking wet rags.Just let it stay like this, I think, gazing at the huge mysterious shadows thetrees conjure up on the shining green meadows, the cows languidly fli

12、ckingtheir tails. Everything breathes an air of stillness, the silence rent by theexuberant color of asters, dahlias, sunflowers and roses.The mornings begin chilly. Theevenings give youshivers and cold feet in bed. But in the middle of the daythe sun breaks through, evaporating the mist on the gras

13、s, butterflies andwasps appear and cobwebs glisten against windows like silver lace. The harvestof a whole year s hard work is on the trees and bushes; berries, beech mast,chestnuts, and acorns.Suddenly, I think of my youngestdaughter, living now in Amsterdam. Very soon she will call and ask “Have y

14、ouplanted the bulbs yet?” Then I will answer teasingly that actually I m waitinguntil she comes to help me. And then we will both be overcome by nostalgia,because once we always did that together. One entire sunny autumn afternoon,when she was three and a half years old, she helped me with all enthu

15、siasm andjoyfulness of her age.It was one of the last afternoonsthat I had heraround, because her place in school has been already reserved.She wandered around so happily carefree with her little bucket and spade,covering the bulbs with earth and calling out “Night, night“ or Z/Sleep night ,her litt

16、le voice chattering constantly on. She discovered baby bulbs , kiddiebulbs” , and“mummy and daddy bulbs” , the latter snuggling cozily together.While we were both working so industriously, I watched my kid verydeliberately. She was such a tiny thing, between an infant and a toddler, withsuch a round

17、 little tummy.Every autumn, throughout herchildhood, we repeated the ritual of planting the bulbs together. Every autumnl saw her changing, the toddler became a schoolgirl, a straightforward realistfull of drive. Never once dreamy, her hands in her pockets; no longer happilyindulging in her fantasie

18、s. The schoolgirl developed long legs, her jaw-linechanged, she had her hair cut. It was autumn again that I thought bye roses,bye butterflies, bye schoolgirl” . I listened to her stories while wepainstakingly burrowed in the earth, planting the promise of spring.Suddenly, much quicker than I hadexp

19、ected, a tall teenager was standing by my side. She is taller than I. Theritual became rather silent, and we no longer chatter from one subject toanother. I thought about her room full of posters and knick-knacks, how it hadbeen full of treasures in bottles and boxes, white peddles, a copper broochz

20、colored drawings, the treasures of a child who still knew nothing of money, whowanted to be read to and who looked anxiously at a spider at her room andasked, “Would he want to be my friend?Then came the autumn when I plantedthe bulbs alone, and I knew from then on it would always be that way. But e

21、veryyear, in autumn, she talks about it, full of nostalgia for the security ofchildhood, the seclusion of a garden, the final moments of a season. How bothof us would dearly love to have a time machine to go back. Just for a day.人間盡秋到了栽種球莖植物的時(shí)候了。我卻是能拖那么拖，因?yàn)樵?種球莖得在園籬處騰出空間，而此時(shí)籬上仍開著朵朵鮮花。 把一年生植物強(qiáng)行拔起，掐死造

22、化恩賜的紫絳、橘黃和淺紅 這一片爛漫，阻斷自然界的最后歡聲，簡(jiǎn)直無(wú)異于謀殺。所 以我要等待第一個(gè)霜降之夜，等待花瓣全部沾上一層冷冽的 霜晶，蒙無(wú)知覺中自行凋零，和婉地壽終正寢。我在園中徜 徉，拿不定主意，只求留住殘夏的最后兒天。樹葉猶盛，光鮮可人。白樺婆娑輕搖，一片片金色的葉子飄飄落地，有如一溜不絕如縷的慶典彩紙。十一月行將降 臨，帶來(lái)秋的凄風(fēng)苦雨和鉛灰色陰云，像浸水的抹布一樣壓 在你的頭頂。但愿眼下的好天氣會(huì)持續(xù)下去，我這樣想，一 邊注視著樹木在綠油油的草地上投下的幢幢詭謫黑影，還有 倦慵地甩動(dòng)尾巴的牛群。一片靜謐，唯有紫苑、大麗菊、向 日葵和玫瑰的濃艷色彩似在撕裂四下的寂靜。清晨時(shí)分，天氣

23、凜冽，到了夜晚，你打起了哆嗦，躺在床上雙腳冰涼。但在正午時(shí)分，陽(yáng)光撥開云層，將霧靄化作 蒸汽，在草地上升騰。蝴蝶和黃蜂開始出沒，蛛網(wǎng)猶如絲帶, 掛在窗前閃出銀光。樹梢上和灌木叢里凝結(jié)了整整一年的辛 勞，漿果、毛栗、板栗和橡實(shí)等著收獲歸倉(cāng)。突然，想到如今客居阿姆斯特丹的幼女。這兩天，她定會(huì)打來(lái) 來(lái)問：球莖植物種下了嗎? 隨即我會(huì)用打趣 的口吻回答說(shuō)，老媽正等著她來(lái)幫助下種呢。接著母女雙雙 陷入懷舊的情思，因?yàn)閺那坝卸螘r(shí)間我們總是合作下種的. 她才三歲半的那年，一個(gè)秋陽(yáng)萬(wàn)里的午后，女兒曾懷著她那 年齡特有的全部踴躍和歡樂，做過我的幫手。 in from the fields and the dow

24、nbeyond that it was difficult to keep the eyes strictly turned upon the book.The rooks too were keeping one of their annual festivities; soaring round thetree tops until it looked as if a vast net with thousands of black knots in ithad been cast up into the air; which, after a few moments sank slowl

25、y down uponthe trees until every twig seemed to have a knot at the end of it. Then,suddenly, the net would be thrown into the air again in a wider circle thistime, with the utmost clamour and vociferation, as though to be thrown into theair and settle slowly down upon the tree tops were a tremendous

26、ly excitingexperience.The same energy which inspired therooks, the ploughmen, the horses, and even, it seemed, the lean bare-backeddowns, sent the moth fluttering from side to side of his square of thewindow-pane. One could生活中女兒繞膝的下午不多了，因?yàn)閷W(xué)校已給她留出一 個(gè)名額。她帶上自己的小桶和鏟子，興高采烈又無(wú)憂無(wú)慮地 滿園子跑，給球莖培掩泥土的同時(shí)，用尖細(xì)的嗓子一遍又

27、一 遍聒噪著晚安，晚安或是睡個(gè)好覺。她還分別發(fā)現(xiàn) 了 貝貝種和娃娃種，還有媽媽爸爸種，后者指 的是那些親密依偎的球莖種。兩人辛苦勞作的同時(shí)，我曾留 意審視孩子：真是個(gè)小不點(diǎn)兒，出了襁褓，挺著個(gè)圓滾滾的 小肚子剛開始蹣跚學(xué)步。在女兒童年期的每個(gè)秋季，我們履行儀式似的種下球莖植物，而每個(gè)秋季，我都注意到女兒身上發(fā)生的變化。學(xué)步 小兒長(zhǎng)大成了女學(xué)生，成為一個(gè)充滿進(jìn)取心又坦率直面現(xiàn)實(shí) 的人，從不把雙手插在口袋里想入非非，再不靠恣意幻想而 自得其樂。女學(xué)生的雙腿變得修長(zhǎng)，下亥頁(yè)的輪廓線變了，要 上理發(fā)店剪發(fā)了。秋季再次來(lái)臨時(shí)，我在心里默念別了， 玫瑰;別了，蝴蝶;別了，女學(xué)生。當(dāng)我們使勁在泥土里掘 洞，

28、種下明春的希望時(shí)，我在傾聽女兒述說(shuō)她的故事。突然，站在我身旁的女兒成了大姑娘，變化之神速遠(yuǎn)勝我的預(yù)料。隨后，她的身高超過了我。下種成了相對(duì)無(wú)言的 程式，不再有天南海北的閑聊。我不由地想起她那掛滿大幅 招貼以及充滿各種小擺設(shè)的房間，而先前這兒多的是瓶子和 紙盒，白色的卵石，一枚銅制胸針，彩色圖畫。這些都是一 個(gè)尚不知曉金錢為何物的幼兒的珍藏品，一個(gè)要大人讀書給 她聽的稚女，見了屋里的蛛網(wǎng)會(huì)憂心忡忡地發(fā)問：蜘蛛愿 跟我做朋友嗎?接著就是我單獨(dú)下種的那個(gè)秋天，我還知道從此就是單 干的命了。但每年秋天，她總要提到下種的事，口氣里充滿 懷舊的意味，緬想事事都有保障的童年，幽閉的庭園，一個(gè) 季節(jié)的最后時(shí)刻

29、。母女倆多么衷心希望有一臺(tái)時(shí)間機(jī)器，能 回到往昔，即便過上一天也好。not help watching him. One was, indeed, conscious of aqueer feeling of pity for him. The possibilities of pleasure seemed thatmorning so enormous and so various that to have only a moth s part in life, anda day moth7 s at that, appeared a hard fate, and his zest in

30、enjoying his meagreopportunities to the full, pathetic. He flew vigorously to one corner of hiscompartment, and, after waiting there a second, flew across to the other. Whatremained for him but to fly to a third corner and then to a fourth? That wasall he could do, in spite of the size of the downs,

31、 the width of the sky, thefar-off smoke of houses, and the romantic voice, now and then, of a steamer outat sea. What he could do he did. Watching him, it seemed as if a fibre, verythin but pure, of the enormous energy of the world had been thrust into hisfrail and diminutive body. As often as he cr

32、ossed the pane, I could fancy thata thread of vital light became visible. He was little or nothing but life.Yet, because he was so small, andso simple a form of the energy that was rolling in at the open window anddriving its way through so many narrow and intricate corridors in my own brainand in t

33、hose of other human beings, there was something marvellous as well aspathetic about him. It was as if someone had taken a tiny bead of pure life anddecking it as lightly as possible with down and feathers, had set it dancingand zig-zagging to show us the true nature of life. Thus displayed one could

34、not get over the strangeness of it. One is apt to forget all about life, seeingit humped and bossed and garnished and cumbered so that it has to move with thegreatest circumspection and dignity. Again, the thought of all that life mighthave been had he been born in any other shape caused one to view

35、 his simpleactivities with a kind of pity.After a time, tired by his dancingapparently, he settled on the window ledge in the sun, and, the queer spectaclebeing at an end, I forgot about him. Then, looking up, my eye was caught byhim. He was trying to resume his dancing, but seemed either so stiff o

36、r soawkward that he could only flutter to the bottom of the window-pane; and whenhe tried to fly across it he failed. Being intent on other matters I watchedthese futile attempts for a time without thinking, unconsciously waiting forhim to resume his flight, as one waits for a machine, that has stop

37、pedmomentarily, to start again without considering the reason of its failure.After perhaps a seventh attempt he slipped from the wooden ledge and felljluttering his wings, on to his back on the window sill. The helplessnessofhis attitude roused me. It flashed upon me that he was in difficulties; hec

38、ould no longer raise himself; his legs struggled vainly. But, as I stretchedout a pencil, meaning to help him to right himself, it came over me that thefailure and awkwardness were the approach of death. I laid the pencil down again.The legs agitated themselves oncemore. I looked as if for the enemy

39、 against which he struggled. I looked out ofdoors. What had happened there? Presumably it was midday, and work in thefields had stopped. Stillness and quiet had replaced the previous animation.The birds had taken themselves off to feed in the brooks. The horses stoodstill. Yet the power was there al

40、l the same, massed outside indifferent,impersonal, not attending to anything in particular. Somehow it was opposed tothe little hay-coloured moth. It was useless to try to do anything. One couldonly watch the extraordinary efforts made by those tiny legs against anoncoming doom which could, had it c

41、hosen, have submerged an entire city, notmerely a city, but masses of human beings; nothing, I knew, had any chanceagainst death. Nevertheless after a pause of exhaustion the legs flutteredagain. It was superb this last protest, and so frantic that he succeeded atlast in righting himself. One s sympathies, of course, were all on the side of life. Also, when there was nobody to care or to know, this gigantic effort onthe p