I'm not sure if he'll wish to see me. I think I may remind him of a time he prefers to forget. But I'll come all the same. Is there any chance of seeing any of his pictures?
“我不知道他是不是愿意看到我。我怕我会使他想起一段他宁愿忘掉的日子。但是我想我还是得去一趟。有没有可能看到他的什么作品？”
Not from him. He won't show you a thing. There's a little dealer I know who has two or three. But you mustn't go without me; you wouldn't understand. I must show them to you myself.
“从他那里看不到。他什么也不给你看。我认识一个小画商，手里有两三张他的画。但是你要是去，一定得让我陪着你；你不会看懂的。我一定要亲自指点给你看。”
Dirk, you make me impatient, said Mrs. Stroeve. "How can you talk like that about his pictures when he treated you as he did?" She turned to me. "Do you know, when some Dutch people came here to buy Dirk's pictures he tried to persuade them to buy Strickland's? He insisted on bringing them here to show."
“戴尔克，你简直叫我失去耐性了，”施特略夫太太说。“他那样对待你，你怎么还能这样谈论他的画？”她转过来对我说：“你知道，有一些人到这里来买戴尔克的画，他却劝他们买思特里克兰德的。他非让思特里克兰德把画拿到这里给他们看不可。”
What did you think of them? I asked her, smiling.
“你觉得思特里克兰德的画怎么样？”我笑着问她。
They were awful.
“糟糕极了。”
Ah, sweetheart, you don't understand.
“啊，亲爱的，你不懂。”
Well, your Dutch people were furious with you. They thought you were having a joke with them.
“哼，你的那些荷兰老乡简直气坏了。他们认为你是在同他们开玩笑。”
Dirk Stroeve took off his spectacles and wiped them. His flushed face was shining with excitement.
戴尔克·施特略夫摘下眼镜来，擦了擦。他的一张通红的面孔因为兴奋而闪着亮光。
Why should you think that beauty, which is the most precious thing in the world, lies like a stone on the beach for the careless passer-by to pick up idly? Beauty is something wonderful and strange that the artist fashions out of the chaos of the world in the torment of his soul. And when he has made it, it is not given to all to know it. To recognize it you must repeat the adventure of the artist. It is a melody that he sings to you, and to hear it again in your own heart you want knowledge and sensitiveness and imagination.
“为什么你认为美——世界上最宝贵的财富——会同沙滩上的石头一样，一个漫不经心的过路人随随便便地就能够捡起来？美是一种美妙、奇异的东西，艺术家只有通过灵魂的痛苦折磨才能从宇宙的混沌中塑造出来。在美被创造出以后，它也不是为了叫每个人都能认出来的。要想认识它，一个人必须重复艺术家经历过的一番冒险。他唱给你的是一个美的旋律，要是想在自己心里重新听一遍就必须有知识、有敏锐的感觉和想象力。”
Why did I always think your pictures beautiful, Dirk? I admired them the very first time I saw them.
“为什么我总觉得你的画很美呢，戴尔克？你的画我第一次看到就觉得好得了不得。”
Stroeve's lips trembled a little.
施特略夫的嘴唇颤抖了一会儿。
Go to bed, my precious. I will walk a few steps with our friend, and then I will come back.
“去睡觉吧，宝贝儿。我要陪我的朋友走几步路，一会儿就回来。”