Sunset We had a remarkable sunset one day last November. I was walking in a meadow, the source of a small brook, when the sun, just before setting, after a cold gray day, reached a clear stratum in the horizon. The softest and brightest evening sunlight fell on the dry grass, on the branches of the trees on the opposite horizon, duanwenw.com and on the leaves of the shrub oaks on the hillside, while our shadows stretched long over the meadow eastward, as if we were only motes in its beams. duanwenw.com It was such a beautiful sight that we could not have imagined a moment before, and the air was so warm and serene that nothing was needed to make a paradise of that meadow. The sun set on that retired meadow, where no house was visible, with all the glory and splendor that it lavished on cities, as it has never set before. There was only a solitary marsh-hawk having its wings gilded by the golden light. A hermit looked from his cabin, and a little black-veined brook meandered through the marsh. As we walked in that pure and brilliant light gilding the withered grass and leaves I thought I had never been bathed in such a golden flood, and never would again. 落日 去年十一月的一天，我们目睹了一个极其美丽的日落。 当我漫步于一道小溪发源处的草地之上，那太阳，终于在一个凄苦的寒天之后、暮夕之前，突于天际骤放澄明。这时但见远方天幕下的衰草残茎，山边的树叶橡丛，登时浸在一片柔美而耀眼的绮照之中，而我们自己的身影也长长地伸向草地的东方，仿佛在那缕斜光中只是微尘。周围的风景是那么美,之前还是难以想象，空气也是那么和暖纯净，一时这一片草地实在无异于天上的景象。 此刻那落日的余晕正以它全部的灿烂与辉煌，甚至以往日少见的艳丽，尽情斜映在这一带境远地僻的草地之上。茫茫之中只瞥见一头孤零零的沼鹰，背羽上染尽了金黄。一位隐士从他的小屋向外张望，看见一股水色黝黑的小溪，蜿蜒曲折，绕行于这片沼泽。我们漫步于纯美与熠耀的光照，满目衰草枯叶，我想我从来不曾且再也不会沐浴在这么优美的金色光波里 The Four Seasons of LifeOur journey on earth consists, like the year, of four seasons: spring, summer, fall and winter. Life is only loaned to us, and as with everything borrowed, must someday be returned. We are only here for a short stay, and have many tasks. We must contend with pain in order to achieve peace, accept problems if we are to reach success, and shed tears if we are to share laughter. duanwenw.com We have many lessons to learn. Each and every moment of life is an important one. In spring, everything grows fresh and new. Lilacs blossom, and the maple and oak trees produce new leaves. It is a time when we are as if newly born into the world. You are now entering the summer of your life. Everything is now in full bloom. The trees and flowers proudly display all their beauty and elegance. This season doesn’t seem as if it will end, yet it slips by before you know it. The fall is next, when the leaves drop to the ground, and the farmers gather their crops and reap the rewards of their labor. The harvest moon is full and round, and slightly misted by a passing cloud. This is the most satisfying of the four seasons. Then all too quickly the winter of your life is upon you, and everything is barren. However, duanwenw.com there is a peaceful sort of beauty in the wintertime. If you allow your spirit to be free, you will remain youthful longer than you thought possible. Is winter truly the season to end all seasons? 人生的四季 然后，很快地，生命就会面临人生的冬天，此时万物皆荒凉。然而，冬季却有一种平和的美。如果你肯放飞心灵，你肯定会比想象中的自己更加年轻。 我们在世间的旅程，就像年轮一样，包含着春夏秋冬四个季节。生命仅仅是我们暂时借来的，如同所有借来的东西，总有一天得还回去。我们在此只是短暂地停留，并有很多任务需要完成。想要获得安宁，我们必须忍受痛苦；想要获得成功，我们就必须面对种种困难；想要分享欢笑，就得流下泪水。我们有很多课程要学习。生命中的每一个时刻都举足轻重。 春天是万物复苏的季节。丁香开花了，枫树和橡树也都吐露新的枝叶。这就好像我们刚刚来到这世上。然后，你会步入人生的夏天。万物都处于繁茂的时刻。花草树木自豪地展示着它们的美丽与优雅。这样的季节看起来不会结束，但却在你不经意的时候悄然划过。 接下来就是秋天了。树木的叶子都落了，农民们忙着收获庄稼，收获他们的劳动成果。月儿圆圆的，还被偶尔经过的云蒙上一层薄薄的轻雾。这是最令人感到满足的一个季节。冬天真的是四季的尾声吗？ The Eagle and his CaptorA Man once caught an Eagle, and after clipping his wings turned him loose among the fowls in his hen-house, where he moped in a corner, looking very dejected and forlorn. After a while his Captor was glad enough to sell him to a neighbour, who took him home and let his wings grow again. As soon as he had recovered the use of them, the Eagle flew out and caught a hare, which he brought home and presented to his benefactor. A fox observed this, and said to the Eagle, “Don’t waste your gifts on him! Go and give them to the man who first caught you; make him your friend, and then perhaps he won’t catch you and clip your wings a second time.” 鹰与捕鹰者 从前，有一个人捉住了一只鹰，随后便剪断了他的翅膀，放入鸡窝中与其它家禽一起饲养，鹰一直呆在角落里暗自悲伤，看上去甚为沮丧和绝望。没过多久，捕获老鹰的那个人很高兴地将鹰卖给了一个邻居，邻居把鹰带回家后又帮它长出了新的翅膀。鹰飞出去抓住了一只兔子，立刻带回家给恩人。一只狐狸看到后，便对老鹰说：“不要在他身上浪费你的猎物，把这份礼物送给以前捕获你的那个人，和他交个朋友，那么，或许他不会再次捕获你，并剪断你的翅膀。” The Moon can’t be stolen A Zen master lived the simplest kind of life in a little but at the foot of a mountain. One evening, while he was away, a thief sneaked into the hut only to find there was nothing in it to steal. The Zen Master returned and found him. “You have come a long way to visit me, ” he told the prowler, “and you should not return empty-handed. duanwenw.com Please take my clothes as a gift.” The thief was bewildered, but he took the clothes and ran away. The Master sat naked, watching the moon. “Poor fellow, ” he mused, “I wish I could give him this beautiful moon.” 无法偷走的月亮 一位禅师住在山脚下的小棚屋里，过着极为简朴的生活。 一天夜里，一个小偷趁他外出时潜入他的家中，却发现没什么可偷的，这时禅师回来了，正好和小偷撞了个满怀。 他对这个不速之客说：“你路途遥远来拜访我，总不能空手而归吧，请把我的衣服带走吧，就当我送你的礼物。” 小偷有些懵了，但还是带上衣服仓皇而逃。 禅师赤,身,裸,体地坐着，凝望明月. “可怜的朋友，”他沉思到：“我多希望能送你这轮明月啊。” 哲理英语故事短文启示：迷失本性的人可能会得到博大之心的宽容，却永远无法换回自己心中的那份清澈和明净。 A little Girl’s DreamThe promise was a long time keeping. But then， so was the dream.In the early 1950s in a small Southern California town， a little girl hefted yet another load of books onto the tiny library’s counter. The girl was a reader. Her parents had books all over their home， but not always the ones she wanted. So she’d make her weekly trek to the yellow library with the brown trim， the little one-room building where the children’s library actually was just a nook1. Frequently, duanwenw.com she ventured out of that nook in search of heftier fare. As the white-haired librarian hand-stamped the due dates in the ten-year-old’s choice， the little girl looked longingly at "The New Book" prominently displayed on the counter. She marveled again at the wonder of writing a book and having it honored like that， right there for the world to see. That particular day, she confessed her goal."When I grow up，" she said， "I "m going to be a writer. I’m going to write books." The librarian looked up from her stamping and smiled， not with the condescension4 so many children receive， but with encouragement. "When you do write that book，" she replied， "bring it into our library and we’ll put it on display， right here on the counter." The little girl promised she would. As she grew， so did her dream. She got her first job in ninth grade, writing brief personality profiles，which earned her $1.50 each from the local newspaper. The money palled5 in comparison with the magic of seeing her words on paper. A book was a long way off. She edited her high-school paper， married and started a family， but the itch to write burned deep. She got a part-time job covering school news at a weekly newspaper. It kept her brain busy as she balanced babies. But no book. She went to work full time for a major daily. Even tried her hand at magazines. Still no book. Finally, she believed she had something to say and started a book. She sent it off to two publishers and was rejected. She put it away, sadly. Several years later, the old dream increased in persistence. She got an agent and wrote another book. She pulled the other out of hiding, and soon both were sold. But the world of book publishing moves slower than that of daily newspapers， duanwenw.com and she waited two long years. The day the box arrived on her doorstep with its free author’s copies， she ripped it open. Then she cried. She’d waited so long to hold her dream in her hands. Then she remembered that librarian’s invitation， and her promise. Of course, that particular librarian had died long ago, and the little library had been razed to make way for a larger incarnation. The woman called and got the name of the head librarian. She wrote a letter, telling her how much her predecessor’s words had meant to the girl. She’d be in town for her thirtieth high school reunion, she wrote and could she bring her two books by and give them to the library? The librarian called and said’ "Come." So she did, clutching a copy of each book. Inside the big new library， the librarian welcomed her warmly. She introduced a reporter from the local newspaper — a descendant10 of the paper she’d begged a chance to write for long ago. Then she presented her books to the librarian， who placed them on the counter with a sign of explanation. Tears rolled down the woman’s cheeks. Then she hugged the librarian and left， pausing for a picture outside， which proved that dreams can come true and promises can be kept. Even if it takes thirty-eight years. The ten-year-old girl and the writer she’d become posed by the library sign， right next to the reader board， which said: WELCOME BACK， JANN MITCHELL. 小女孩的梦想 这个诺言被长久地遵守着，而这个梦想也同样如此。 20世纪50年代初，在加利福尼亚州南部的一个小镇上，一个小女孩把一摞书放在小图书馆的柜台上。 这个女孩是一位读者，她父母有很多书，但没有哪本是她想看的，因此，她每个星期都会去一次图书馆。这个图书馆是一幢棕色镶边的黄色单室建筑，儿童阅览室只在隐蔽的一角。女孩常大胆地走出这个角落，寻找更大部头的图书。当白发苍苍的图书管理员在这个10岁小读者借的书上盖期戳时，英语短文小女孩看着陈列在柜台上醒目的“新书上架”告示牌，眼中透出羡慕的光芒。写一本书，然后上“新书上架”告示牌——小女孩对此惊叹不已。 也就在这天，她说出了自己的理想。 “我长大后，”小女孩说，“要当一名作家，我要写书。”正盖着戳印的图书管理员抬起头来冲她笑了笑，那种笑并不是一种敷衍迁就小孩子的笑，相反，笑里满含着鼓励与支持。“等你写出本书时，”管理员说，“就把它带到图书馆来，我们就会把书展示在柜台上。”小女孩许诺她一定会写本书来。女孩慢慢地长大，她的梦想也日趋成熟。上九年级时，她得到了她的第一份工作，就是为当地的一家报纸撰写名人小传，每篇文章1.5美圆。她所写的东西变成一排排铅字，没有比这更令人骄傲的了，稿费与之比起来，显得微不足道。但写书的事还遥遥无期。 她在高中校报做过编辑，然后结了婚，生了孩子，但她对写作仍激情不减。后来，她找了一份兼职，为一家周报采编校园新闻。这让她在照顾几个宝宝的同时，脑子一刻也没有停歇，但她还是没写书。之后，她在一家大型日报社做过全职，还在杂志社上过班，可她还是没写书。 后来，她总想说点什么，于是，她就写了一本书。写完后，她把书寄给两家出版社，但都被一一拒绝，她伤心地把书收了起来。数年后，她出书的欲望日渐强烈。于是，她找了一个经纪人，又写了一本书。她把先前的那本书也拿了出来，连同后一本一起寄给了出版社。不久，两本书都卖了出去。 然而，书的出版要比日报慢得多。作者样书送到她家的那天，她迫不及待地撕开了包装，要知道，她等这一天等了两年。后来，她哭了，她的梦想终于实现了。同时，她也记起了那位管理员的邀约和她自己的承诺。当然，那位管理员已去世很多年了。为了建一座更大的图书馆，原先那个小的早就被夷为平地。这个女人打电话查到了图书馆负责人的名字。接着，她给这位负责人写了一封信，告诉她，她的前任负责人的话是如何影响一个小女孩的一生。她还写道，她要回小镇参加高中毕业30年聚会，还问她能否顺便带上她的两本书送给图书馆。管理员打来电话说：“把两本书带来吧。”于是，她带着那两本书回到了久别的小镇。 走进大而新的图书馆，管理员热情地接待了她，还将她引见给当地报纸的一名记者——这家报纸就是她多年前曾恳求给机会写点文章的那家。然后，她把书赠给了管理员，管理员将这两本书摆在柜台上，还附加了一些额外的注解。这个女人激动得热泪盈眶。 拥抱过管理员后，她就离开了。离开前，她在图书馆外停下来，拍了一张照片，作为梦想和诺言实现的明证，尽管这实现的过程耗费了38年之久。当年10岁的小女孩，也就是现在的这位作家，在图书馆招牌旁照了张相。只见图书馆招牌旁边的读者留言板上写着：詹恩·米切尔，欢迎您归来。 THE FISHERMAN AND THE GENIEO nce upon a time there was an old fisherman. He went fishing very early every morning, but he never cast his net more than four times a day. One morning, he went out early to the sea. He cast his net for the first time, and drew in the body of an animal. He cast it a second time, and drew in an old basket full of sand. He cast it a third time, and drew in a lot of stones. It seemed he would have nothing to take home that morning. Day had now broken, and he cast his net for last time. After some time, he began to draw the net in. He found it was very heavy. But there were not any fish in it. Instead he found a jar with a lid. He shook the jar, but could hear nothing. So he took off the lid and looked inside. He could see nothing. After a while a light smoke came slowly out of the jar. Then little by little, the smoke grew heavier and thicker till finally it turned into a terrible Genie! "Get down on your knees," said the Genie, "for I'm going to kill you." "Why? Didn't I set you free from the jar?" "That's why I'm going to kill you, but I'll let you choose how you're going to die." "But why?" "Listen, and I will tell you my story." "I was one of the spirits in heaven. But I did not want to obey Solomon's orders. So one day, he put me in this jar and threw it into the sea. "During the first hundred years of my stay in the sea, I made a promise that if anyone set me free I would make him very rich. But no one came. During the second hundred years, I promised that if anyone set me free I would show him all the treasures in the world. But still no one came. During the third hundred years, I promised that if anyone came to set me free, I would make him king over the earth. "Still no one came. Then I became very angry, and decided that if anyone should set me free I would kill him at once. Now you have come and set me free. So you must die, but I will let you say how you want to die." The fisherman was not frightened. He said: "Since I must die, I must. But before I die, answer me one question." "All right, but be quick." "Were you really in the jar? You are so big and the jar is so small that it could hardly hold one of your feet." "Of course I was in the jar. Don't you believe me?" "No, and I won't until I've seen you in the jar with my own eyes." When he heard this, the Genie changed into smoke. Slowly the smoke went back into the jar. When all of it was in the jar, the fisherman quickly put the lid on and threw it back into the sea. 渔夫和妖怪 从前有一个渔夫，家里很穷。他每天早上到海边去捕鱼，但是他自己立下一条规矩，每天至多撒四次网。 有一天早上，撒了三次网，什么都没捞着，他很不高兴。第四次把网拉拢来的时候，他觉得太重了，简直拉不动。他就脱了衣服跳下水去，把网拖上岸来。打开网一看，发现网里有一个胆形的黄铜瓶，瓶口用锡封着，锡上盖着所罗门的印。 渔夫一见，笑逐颜开，说道：“我把这瓶子带到市上去，可以卖它十块金币。”他抱着铜瓶摇了一摇，觉得很重，里面似乎塞满了东西。他自言自语地说：“这个瓶里到底装的什么东西？我要打开来看个清楚，再拿去卖。”他就从腰带上拔出小刀，撬去瓶口上的锡封，然后摇摇瓶子，想把里面的东西倒出来，但是什么东西也没有。他觉得非常奇怪。 隔一会儿，瓶里冒出一股青烟，飘飘荡荡地升到空中，继而弥漫在大地上，逐渐凝成一团，最后变成个巨大的魔鬼，披头散发，高高地耸立在渔夫面前。魔鬼头像堡垒，手像铁叉，腿像桅杆，口像山洞，牙齿像白石块，鼻孔像喇叭，眼睛像灯笼，样子非常凶恶。 渔夫一看见这可怕的魔鬼，呆呆的不知如何应付。一会儿，他听见魔鬼叫道：“所罗门啊，别杀我，以后我不敢再违背您的命令了！” “魔鬼！”渔夫说道，“所罗门已经死了一千八百年了。你是怎麽钻到这个瓶子里的呢？” 魔鬼说：“渔夫啊，准备死吧！你选择怎样死吧，我立刻就要把你杀掉！” “我犯了什么罪？”渔夫问道，“我把你从海里捞上来，又把你从胆瓶里放出来，救了你的命，你为什么要杀我？” 魔鬼答道：“你听一听我的故事就明白了。” “说吧，”渔夫说，“简单些。” “你要知道，”魔鬼说，“我是个无恶不作的凶神，曾经跟所罗门作对，他派人把我捉去，装在这个胆瓶里，用锡封严了，又盖上印，投到海里。我在海里呆着，在第一个世纪里，我常常想：‘谁要是在这个世纪里解救我，我一定报答他，使他终身享受荣华富贵。’一百年过去了，可是没有人来解救我。第二个世纪开始的时候，我说：‘谁要是在这个世纪里解救我，我一定报答他，把全世界的宝库都指点给他。’可是没有人来解救我。第三个世纪开始的时候，我说：‘谁要是在这个世纪里解救我，我一定报答他，满足他的三种愿望。’可是整整过了四百年，始终没有人来解救我。于是我非常生气，我说：‘从今以后，谁要是来解救我，我一定要杀死他，不过准许他选择怎样死。’渔夫，现在你解救了我，所以我叫你选择你的死法。” 渔夫叫道：“好倒霉啊，碰上我来解救你！是我救了你的命啊！” “正因为你救了我，我才要杀你啊！” “好心对待你，你却要杀我！老话确实讲得不错，这真是‘恩将仇报’了！” “别再罗唆了，”魔鬼说道，“反正你是非死不可的。”这时候渔夫想道：“他是个魔鬼，我是个堂堂的人。我的智慧一定能压制他的妖气。”于是他对魔鬼说：“你决心要杀我吗？” “不错。” “凭神的名字起誓，我要问你一件事，你必须说实话。” “可以，”魔鬼说，“问吧，要简短些。” “你不是住在这个胆瓶里吗？可是照道理说，这个铜瓶既容不下你一只手，更容不下你一条腿，怎麽容得下你这样庞大的整个身体呀？” “你不相信我住在这个胆瓶里吗？” “我没有亲眼看见，绝对不能相信。” 这时候，魔鬼摇身一变，变成一团青烟，逐渐缩成一缕，慢慢地钻进胆瓶。渔夫见青烟全进了胆瓶，就立刻拾起盖印的锡封，把瓶口封上，然后学着魔鬼的口吻大声说：“告诉我吧，魔鬼，你希望怎样死？现在我决心把你投到海里去。” 魔鬼听了渔夫的话，就说：“渔夫，刚才我是跟你开玩笑的。” “下流无耻的魔鬼，你这是说谎呀！”渔夫一边把胆瓶挪近海边，准备扔到海里去，一边说，“我要把你投到海里，你说你在海里已经住过一千八百年，这一回我非叫你在海里住一辈子不可。我知道你是坏透了的。我不仅要把你投到海里，还要把你怎样对待我的事告诉世人，叫大家当心。捞着你就立刻把你投回海里去，叫你永远留在海里。” | |
[ 此帖被北清欢°在2015-07-28 16:42重新编辑 ]
