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翻译研讨:20090704美国故事--加利福尼亚人的故事

楼主:Alan Chan 日期: 回贴:6 浏览:

翻译研讨:20090704美国故事--加利福尼亚人的故事
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AMERICAN STORIES - The Californian's Tale
《美国故事》加利福尼亚人的故事
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Written by Mark Twain
作者:马克·吐温
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Now, the weekly Special English program, AMERICAN STORIES.
现在每周一期的慢速英语《美国故事》现在开始……
(MUSIC)
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Our story today is called "The Californian's Tale." It was written by Mark Twain. Here is Shep O'Neal with the story.
我们的故事叫《加利福尼亚人的故事》,作者是马克·吐温,由Shep O'Neal讲述。
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STORYTELLER:
讲述者:
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When I was young, I went looking for gold in California. I never found enough to make me rich. But I did discover a beautiful part of the country. It was called "the Stanislau." The Stanislau was like Heaven on Earth. It had bright green hills and deep forests where soft winds touched the trees.
我年轻时,去加利福尼亚淘金,虽然并没有因此发家致富,却确确实实地在那里发现了一块宝地。那就是斯坦尼斯洛斯。那里群山葱茏,树木茂盛,微风吹拂,真是人间仙境。
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Other men, also looking for gold, had reached the Stanislau hills of California many years before I did. They had built a town in the valley with sidewalks and stores, banks and schools. They had also built pretty little houses for their families.
早在我之前很多年,就有许多淘金者到达斯坦尼斯洛斯山。这些先驱们在山谷里建了一座城镇,铺了一条条的人行道,还盖了商店、银行、学校,以及一座座美丽的小房子,供自家居住。
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At first, they found a lot of gold in the Stanislau hills. But their good luck did not last. After a few years, the gold disappeared. By the time I reached the Stanislau, all the people were gone, too.
一开始,他们找到了不少金子,但是好景不长,没过几年,金子就被都淘光了。我到达斯坦尼斯洛斯山时,那些人早已离去。
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Grass now grew in the streets. And the little houses were covered by wild rose bushes. Only the sound of insects filled the air as I walked through the empty town that summer day so long ago. Then, I realized I was not alone after all.
那是很久以前的一个夏天,昔日繁荣的街道已是荒草丛生,曾经美丽的房子也爬满了野蔷薇,走在空荡荡的镇上,四周沉寂,只有昆虫的鸣叫。但没过多久,我就意识到镇上并非只我一人。
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A man was smiling at me as he stood in front of one of the little houses. This house was not covered by wild rose bushes. A nice little garden in front of the house was full of blue and yellow flowers. White curtains hung from the windows and floated in the soft summer wind.
一个男人站在一座小房子的前面,朝着我微笑。那座房子没有被野蔷薇覆盖,前面还有个小花园,里面盛开着黄的蓝的鲜花。再看房子,窗口有白色的窗帘垂下来,在温柔的夏风中飘动。
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Still smiling, the man opened the door of his house and motioned to me. I went inside and could not believe my eyes. I had been living for weeks in rough mining camps with other gold miners. We slept on the hard ground, ate canned beans from cold metal plates and spent our days in the difficult search for gold.
那男人依旧笑着,打开房门向我招手。我走进屋子,几乎不敢相信自己的眼睛。我来这里已经好几个星期了,一直和其他矿工住在简陋的帐篷里,睡的是坚硬的地面,吃的是冰冷的豆类罐头,还要没日没夜地找金子,生活可谓艰苦。
.
Here in this little house, my spirit seemed to come to life again.
I saw a bright rug on the shining wooden floor. Pictures hung all around the room. And on little tables there were seashells, books and china vases full of flowers. A woman had made this house into a home.
而在这个小屋里,我看到的却是另一番景象:闪亮的木地板上铺着颜色明亮的地毯,墙上挂满了大大小小的画,小桌子上还摆放着贝壳、书本、瓷花瓶,花瓶里还插着鲜花。一定是个女人把这座房子变成了一个家。
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The pleasure I felt in my heart must have shown on my face. The man read my thoughts. "Yes," he smiled, "it is all her work. Everything in this room has felt the touch of her hand."
看到这一切,我的精神不禁为之一振,内心的喜悦也溢于言表。男人看出了我的心思,笑着说,“是的,都是她的功劳。这屋子里的一切都被她亲手打理过。”
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One of the pictures on the wall was not hanging straight. He noticed it and went to fix it. He stepped back several times to make sure the picture was really straight. Then he gave it a gentle touch with his hand.
"She always does that," he explained to me. "It is like the finishing pat a mother gives her child's hair after she has brushed it. I have seen her fix all these things so often that I can do it just the way she does. I don't know why I do it. I just do it."
墙上有一幅画挂偏了,他看到后,就走过去正了一下,又后退几步打量,如此进退了好几个回合。最后,他轻轻地抚摸了一下画,就像母亲给孩子洗完头后温柔地拍拍一样。
“她总是这么细心,”他向我解释说,“天天看她整理东西我都学会了,也不知道为什么要这么做,反正我就是要整理。”
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As he talked, I realized there was something in this room that he wanted me to discover. I looked around. When my eyes reached a corner of the room near the fireplace, he broke into a happy laugh and rubbed his hands together.
他这样说的时候,我意识到他很希望我能在屋子里发现什么,就四下里看去,眼睛最终落在屋角靠近壁炉的地方。他开心地笑起来,兴奋地搓着手。
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"That's it!" he cried out. "You have found it! I knew you would. It is her picture. I went to a little black shelf that held a small picture of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. There was a sweetness and softness in the woman's expression that I had never seen before.
“就是它,”他几乎是大喊道,“你终于发现了,我就知道你会发现的。这是她的照片。”
我走过去,拿起一个小相框。那里面的女人表情温柔甜蜜,真是前所未见的美人。
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The man took the picture from my hands and stared at it. "She was nineteen on her last birthday. That was the day we were married. When you see her...oh, just wait until you meet her!"
男人从我手里拿过照片,注视着。“这是我们结婚那天她照的,那时她刚过了十九岁生日。现在你已经看到她的照片了,一定要等着看看她本人。”
.
"Where is she now?" I asked.
“她现在在哪呢?”
.
"Oh, she is away," the man sighed, putting the picture back on the little black shelf. "She went to visit her parents. They live forty or fifty miles from here. She has been gone two weeks today."
“喔,她不在家,”男人一边说,一边把照片放回原处。“她回娘家了,离这里有四五十里路,算上今天已经去了两个星期了呢。”
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"When will she be back?" I asked. "Well, this is Wednesday," he said slowly. "She will be back on Saturday, in the evening."
“那她什么时候回来呢?”我问。
“今天是星期三,她要到星期六晚上回来。”他慢悠悠地回答。
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I felt a sharp sense of regret. "I am sorry, because I will be gone by then," I said.
我感到一股强烈的遗憾,“真抱歉,到那时我就要走了。”
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"Gone? No! Why should you go? Don't go. She will be so sorry. You see, she likes to have people come and stay with us."
“走了?别啊。你为什么要走呢?别走!你看,她很高兴有人来我们家住上几天,要是你等不到她来就走了,她知道了会很伤心的。
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"No, I really must leave," I said firmly.
“可是,我确实得离开啊。”我语气坚定。
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He picked up her picture and held it before my eyes. "Here," he said. "Now you tell her to her face that you could have stayed to meet her and you would not."
他拿起照片,举到我眼前。
“那现在,你当着她的面告诉她,你本来可以留下住几天等着她的,但你不肯。”
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Something made me change my mind as I looked at the picture for a second time. I decided to stay.
不知是什么让我改变了主意。再一次看照片时,我决定留下来。
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The man told me his name was Henry.
之后,男人告诉我他叫亨利。
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That night, Henry and I talked about many different things, but mainly about her. The next day passed quietly.
当天晚上,亨利和我谈了很多,但主要还是关于她的。第二天悄无声息地过去了。
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Thursday evening we had a visitor. He was a big, grey-haired miner named Tom. "I just came for a few minutes to ask when she is coming home," he explained. "Is there any news?"
星期四晚上,来了一位叫汤姆的客人,是个高个子、头发花白的老矿工。
“我就待几分钟问问她什么时候回家,有信儿吗?”汤姆问。
.
"Oh yes," the man replied. "I got a letter. Would you like to hear it? He took a yellowed letter out of his shirt pocket and read it to us. It was full of loving messages to him and to other people – their close friends and neighbors. When the man finished reading it, he looked at his friend. "Oh no, you are doing it again, Tom! You always cry when I read a letter from her. I'm going to tell her this time!"
“有,她寄来了一封信,你想听听她在信里说什么了吗?”
亨利说着,从衬衫口袋里掏出一封泛黄的信,读了起来。信中洋溢着无限的爱意,对丈夫的爱,对其他人的爱,以及对其他人的朋友、邻居的爱。
读罢,亨利看着老朋友,“汤姆,你又哭了。别哭啊。我每次读她的信你都要哭,这次我可要告诉她了。”
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"No, you must not do that, Henry," the grey-haired miner said. "I am getting old. And any little sorrow makes me cry. I really was hoping she would be here tonight."
“你千万别告诉她,”头发花白的客人说。“我老了,一点点悲伤都会把我弄哭的,真希望今天晚上她就在这里。”
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The next day, Friday, another old miner came to visit. He asked to hear the letter. The message in it made him cry, too. "We all miss her so much," he said.
第二天是星期五,又一个叫乔的老矿工来了。他也要听听她在信里说了些啥,听完也被里面的内容感动得哭了。我们都很想他,新来的客人说。
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Saturday finally came. I found I was looking at my watch very often. Henry noticed this. "You don't think something has happened to her, do you?" he asked me.
星期六终于来了,我发现自己在不停地看表。亨利也发现了,他忐忑不安地问我,是不是觉得她出什么事了。
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I smiled and said that I was sure she was just fine. But he did not seem satisfied.
我笑笑,说她一定会平平安安的。亨利对此回答好像还不满意。
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I was glad to see his two friends, Tom and Joe, coming down the road as the sun began to set. The old miners were carrying guitars. They also brought flowers and a bottle of whiskey. They put the flowers in vases and began to play some fast and lively songs on their guitars.
太阳快下山时,我很高兴地看到亨利的两个老朋友汤姆和乔来了。他们带着吉他,还有鲜花和一瓶威士忌。把花插在花瓶后,他们就开始弹奏一些欢快的曲子。
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Henry's friends kept giving him glasses of whiskey, which they made him drink. When I reached for one of the two glasses left on the table, Tom stopped my arm. "Drop that glass and take the other one!" he whispered. He gave the remaining glass of whiskey to Henry just as the clock began to strike midnight.
朋友们不停地给亨利倒酒,还非让他都喝下去。但当我把手伸向桌上的两杯酒时,汤姆把我止住了。“把那杯放下,端其他的。”汤姆对我耳语。正当午夜的钟声敲响时,他把剩下的一杯酒端给了亨利。
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Henry emptied the glass. His face grew whiter and whiter. "Boys," he said, "I am feeling sick. I want to lie down."
亨利一饮而尽,脸色越来越苍白。“老伙计们,”他说,“我觉得难受,想躺下。”
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Henry was asleep almost before the words were out of his mouth.
几乎是话音未落,亨利就睡着了。
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In a moment, his two friends had picked him up and carried him into the bedroom. They closed the door and came back. They seemed to be getting ready to leave. So I said, "Please don't go gentlemen. She will not know me. I am a stranger to her."
过了一会儿,他的朋友把他扶起来,抬到卧室,关上门。看他们回到桌前好像准备要走了,我忙说,“先生们,请别走,她妻子还不认识我呢。”
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They looked at each other. "His wife has been dead for nineteen years," Tom said.
两位老人面面相觑。“他妻子已经死了十九年了。”汤姆说。
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"Dead?" I whispered.
“死了?”我轻声问道。
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"Dead or worse," he said.
“死了,或者比死了还惨。”汤姆回答。
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"She went to see her parents about six months after she got married. On her way back, on a Saturday evening in June, when she was almost here, the Indians captured her. No one ever saw her again. Henry lost his mind. He thinks she is still alive. When June comes, he thinks she has gone on her trip to see her parents. Then he begins to wait for her to come back. He gets out that old letter. And we come around to visit so he can read it to us.
“他们结婚后六个月,他妻子回娘家。回来的路上,就快到家了,被几个印第安人抓去了。后来,再没有人见过她,亨利也疯了。从那以后,他就天天等着妻子回来。他把那封旧信找出来,等我们过来看他时好读给我们听。
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"On the Saturday night she is supposed to come home, we come here to be with him. We put a sleeping drug in his drink so he will sleep through the night. Then he is all right for another year."
那女人是在六月的一个晚上失踪的,星期六,所以每年到了这个星期六,亨利就会等他妻子回来。我们过来陪他,给他酒里放了催眠药,好让他一觉睡到天亮,第二天他就好了,再等待明年。”
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Joe picked up his hat and his guitar. "We have done this every June for nineteen years," he said. "The first year there were twenty-seven of us. Now just the two of us are left." He opened the door of the pretty little house. And the two old men disappeared into the darkness of the Stanislau.
乔拿起自己的帽子和吉他,告诉我,“每年六月我们都会来的,已经十九年了。头一年来了二十七个人,今年,就只有我们俩了。”
说罢,他打开房门,两位老人离开了这座充满爱意的小屋,消失在斯坦尼斯洛斯山浓浓的夜色里……
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(MUSIC)
ANNOUNCER:
.
You have just heard the story "The Californian's Tale." It was written by Mark Twain and adapted for Special English by Donna de Sanctis. Your storyteller was Shep O'Neal. For VOA Special English, this is Shirley Griffith.
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附评论:
众所周知,马克•吐温是一位幽默讽刺小说大师,也是一位擅长描写真挚情感的作家,《加利福尼亚人的故事》就充分体现出了他对情感中的“冲突”的独到见解。在这部小说中,粗犷与细腻并存,变荒与文明同在,男性的阳刚与女性的温柔交相辉映,期待与绝望相互对峙……这一切,处处体现出一种矛盾与冲突,而对这些冲突的描写又是流于无形、不知不觉的,使作品呈现出一种历经沧桑的唯美意境。黑格尔的冲突理论,恰恰可以对这些特点子以解读。
As is well known, Mark Twain was a great master of humorous and ironic novels. In fact, he was also a writer good at describing true love and emotions. His unique understanding and viewpoint on love and emotions can be found in The Californian's Tale, which is a novel including roughness and elaboration, wilderness and civilization, embracing the male masculinity and female gentleness, presenting conflicts of expectation and despair... showing contracts and conflicts everywhere. However, these conflicts are presented invisibly and unconsciously, creating a sort of experienced beautiful imagery. This paper tries to analyze its features according to Hegel's conflict theory.

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最佳回复 该帖于2009年7月5日被版主推荐为精华帖。

分享到:
1楼 作者:longjie 创建: <编辑>  <引用>
THX~~
2楼 作者:anna 创建: <编辑>  <引用>
评论写得非常好,翻译得也不错,可见译者的功底了!
4楼 作者:frankonce 创建: <编辑>  <引用>

GOOD STORY,BETTER TRANSLATION,           ,,A STORY ABOUT WAITING ,SADNESS AND LOVE ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,DOSE IT STILL EXSITE IN MODERN WORLD ?

5楼 作者:jackie keyi 创建: <编辑>  <引用>

欢迎提出不足之处,初译拙译望指正。

6楼 作者:jackie keyi 创建: <编辑>  <引用>

比较学习了.

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