(单词翻译:单击)
听力文本
The Cop and the Anthem Soapy moved restlessly on his seat in Madison Square. There are certain signs to show that winter is coming. Birds begin to fly south. Women who want nice new warm coats become very kind to their husbands. And Soapy moves restlessly on his seat in the park. When you see these signs, you know that winter is near. A dead leaf fell at Soapy's feet. That was a special sign for him that winter was coming. It was time for all who lived in Madison Square to prepare. Soapy's mind now realized the fact. The time had come. He had to find some way to take care of himself during the cold weather. And therefore he moved restlessly on his seat. Soapy's hopes for the winter were not very high. He was not thinking of sailing away on a ship. He was not thinking of southern skies, or of the Bay of Naples. Three months in the prison on Blackwell's Island was what he wanted. Three months of food every day and a bed every night. Three months safe from the cold north wind and safe from cops. This seemed to Soapy the most desirable thing in the world. For years Blackwell's Island had been his winter home.
Richer New Yorkers made their large plans to go to Florida or to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea each winter. Soapy made his small plans for going to the Island. And now the time had come. Three big newspapers, some under his coat and some over his legs, had not kept him warm during the night in the park. So Soapy was thinking of the Island. There were places in the city where he could go and ask for food and a bed. These would be given to him. He could move from one building to another, and he would be taken care of through the winter. But he liked Blackwell's Island better. Soapy's spirit was proud. If he went to any of these places, there were certain things he had to do. In one way or another, he would have to pay for what they gave him. They would not ask him for money. But they would make him wash his whole body. They would make him answer questions; they would want to know everything about his life. No. Prison was better than that. The prison had rules that he would have to follow. But in prison a gentleman's own life was still his own life.
Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once began to move toward his desire. There were many easy ways of doing this. The most pleasant way was to go and have a good dinner at some fine restaurant. Then he would say that he had no money to pay. And then a cop would be called. It would all be done very quietly. The cop would arrest him. He would be taken to a judge. The judge would do the rest. Soapy left his seat and walked out of Madison Square to the place where the great street called Broadway and Fifth Avenue meet. He went across this wide space and started north on Broadway. He stopped at a large and brightly lighted restaurant. This was where the best food and the best people in the best clothes appeared every evening. Soapy believed that above his legs he looked all right. His face was clean. His coat was good enough. If he could get to a table, he believed that success would be his. The part of him that would be seen above the table would look all right. The waiter would bring him what he asked for. He began thinking of what he would like to eat.
In his mind he could see the whole dinner. The cost would not be too high. He did not want the restaurant people to feel any real anger. But the dinner would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter home. But as Soapy put his foot inside the restaurant door, the head waiter saw his broken old shoes and torn clothes that covered his legs. Strong and ready hands turned Soapy around and moved him quietly and quickly outside again. Soapy turned off Broadway. It seemed that this easy, this most desirable way to the Island was not to be his. He must think of some other way of getting there. At a corner of Sixth Avenue was a shop with a wide glass window, bright with electric lights. Soapy picked up a big stone and threw it through the glass. People came running around the corner. A cop was the first among them. Soapy stood still and smiled when he saw the cop. "Where's the man that did that?" asked the cop. "Don't you think that I might have done it?" said Soapy. He was friendly and happy. What he wanted was coming toward him. But the cop's mind would not consider Soapy. Men who break windows do not stop there to talk to cops. They run away as fast as they can. The cop saw a man further along the street, running. He ran after him. And Soapy, sick at heart, walked slowly away. He had failed two times. Across the street was another restaurant.
It was not so fine as the one on Broadway. The people who went there were not so rich. Its food was not so good. Into this, Soapy took his old shoes and his torn clothes, and no one stopped him. He sat down at a table and was soon eating a big dinner. When he had finished, he said that he and money were strangers. "Get busy and call a cop," said Soapy. "And don't keep a gentleman waiting." "No cop for you," said the waiter. He called another waiter. The two waiters threw Soapy upon his left ear on the hard street outside. He stood up slowly, one part at a time, and beat the dust from his clothes. Prison seemed only a happy dream. The Island seemed very far away. A cop who was standing near laughed and walked away. Soapy traveled almost half a mile before he tried again. This time he felt very certain that he would be successful. A nice-looking young woman was standing before a shop window, looking at the objects inside. Very near stood a large cop. Soapy's plan was to speak to the young woman. She seemed to be a very nice young lady, who would not want a strange man to speak to her.
She would ask the cop for help. And then Soapy would be happy to feel the cop's hand on his arm. He would be on his way to the Island. He went near her. He could see that the cop was already watching him. The young woman moved away a few steps. Soapy followed. Standing beside her he said: "Good evening, Bedelia! Don't you want to come and play with me?" The cop was still looking. The young woman had only to move her hand, and Soapy would be on his way to the place where he wanted to go. He was already thinking how warm he would be. The young woman turned to him. Putting out her hand, she took his arm. "Sure, Mike," she said joyfully, "if you'll buy me something to drink. I would have spoken to you sooner, but the cop was watching." With the young woman holding his arm, Soapy walked past the cop. He was filled with sadness. He was still free. Was he going to remain free forever? At the next corner he pulled his arm away, and ran. When he stopped, he was near several theaters. In this part of the city, streets are brighter and hearts are more joyful than in other parts.
Women and men in rich, warm coats moved happily in the winter air. A sudden fear caught Soapy. No cop was going to arrest him. Then he came to another cop standing in front of a big theater. He thought of something else to try. He began to shout as if he'd had too much to drink. His voice was as loud as he could make it. He danced, he cried out. And the cop turned his back to Soapy, and said to a man standing near him, "It's one of those college boys. He won't hurt anything. We had orders to let them shout." Soapy was quiet. Was no cop going to touch him? He began to think of the Island as if it were as far away as heaven. He pulled his thin coat around him. The wind was very cold. Then he saw a man in the shop buying a newspaper. The man's umbrella stood beside the door. Soapy stepped inside the shop, took the umbrella, and walked slowly away. The man followed him quickly. "My umbrella," he said. "Oh, is it?" said Soapy. "Why don't you call a cop? I took it. Your umbrella! Why don't you call a cop? There's one standing at the corner."The man walked more slowly. Soapy did the same. But he had a feeling that he was going to fail again. The cop looked at the two men. "I — " said the umbrella man — "that is — you know how these things happen — I — if that's your umbrella I'm very sorry — I — I found it this morning in a restaurant — if you say it's yours — I hope you'll — " "It's mine!" cried Soapy with anger in his voice. The umbrella man hurried away.
The cop helped a lady across the street. Soapy walked east. He threw the umbrella as far as he could throw it. He talked to himself about cops and what he thought of them. Because he wished to be arrested, they seemed to believe he was like a king, who could do no wrong. At last Soapy came to one of the quiet streets on the east side of the city. He turned here and began to walk south toward Madison Square. He was going home, although home was only a seat in the park. But on a very quiet corner Soapy stopped. There was an old, old church. Through one of the colored-glass window came a soft light. Sweet music came to Soapy's ears and seemed to hold him there. The moon was above, peaceful and bright. There were few people passing. He could hear birds high above him. And the anthem that came from the church held Soapy there, for he had known it well long ago. In those days his life contained such things as mothers and flowers and high hopes and friends and clean thoughts and clean clothes.
Soapy's mind was ready for something like this. He had come to the old church at the right time. There was a sudden and wonderful change in his soul. He saw with sick fear how he had fallen. He saw his worthless days, his wrong desires, his dead hopes, the lost power of his mind. And also in a moment his heart answered this change in his soul. He would fight to change his life. He would pull himself up, out of the mud. He would make a man of himself again. There was time. He was young enough. He would find his old purpose in life, and follow it. That sweet music had changed him. Tomorrow he would find work. A man had once offered him a job. He would find that man tomorrow. He would be somebody in the world. He would— Soapy felt a hand on his arm. He looked quickly around into the broad face of a cop. "What are you doing hanging around here?" asked the cop. "Nothing," said Soapy. "You think I believe that?" said the cop. Full of his new strength, Soapy began to argue. And it is not wise to argue with a New York cop. "Come along," said the cop. "Three months on the Island," said the Judge to Soapy the next morning.
重点解析
1.filled with 充满
We were filled with hope, with passion, with dreams for the future.
我们浑身上下都是希望和激情，对未来充满了梦想。
2.stood up 站起来
He stood up when the coach counted eight.
当裁判计数数到8时，他站立了起来。
3.run away 逃跑；失控
I had run away like a child, instead of keeping control of the situation, as I thought I should.
我像个小孩子似地逃跑了，却没控制住那一情形，因为我认为我应当控制得住自己。
4.hanging around 无所事事
I would pass the rest of the day away just hanging around the store, not doing much of anything and not paying much attention to all the hustle and bustle of people and things that were all around me.
那一天余下的时间我就在家具店附近转悠，几乎无所事事，对周围纷繁嘈杂的各种人与事也不太在意。
5.Putting out 扑灭；搏出
These and other so-called turfgrasses are botanically ambidextrous; they can reproduce sexually, by putting out seeds, and asexually, by spreading laterally.
这些被称作草皮草种的草在植物学上具有两性，他们可以通过草籽进行有性繁殖，也可以通过侧向散布进行无性繁殖（植物学家认为它们在两千万年前的中新世获得这第二种繁殖能力。
参考译文
《警察和赞美诗》索丕躺在麦迪逊广场的长凳上辗转不安。有某些迹象表明冬天即将来临。当大雁高声嘎叫的夜晚，当没有海豹皮外衣的女人去隈近自己的丈夫的时候，当索丕在公园里的长凳上不安地翻转的时候，你或许知道冬天近在咫尺了。一片枯叶子落在了索丕的大腿上，那对他来说是一个特殊的信号，冬天就要来了，让它的住户们可以做好过冬的准备。索丕的头脑里正在酝酿着怎样面对事实，时间到了，他必须想办法过冬。因此他在长凳上辗转反侧。索丕对于过冬并无奢望，他没有考虑乘船在地中海巡游，也没有考虑在维苏威湾南部天空昏昏欲睡地漂浮。能在那个岛上待上三个月就是他梦寐以求的，三个月的膳食住宿无忧无虑，北风之神和水兵能确保安全,这些对于索丕似乎都是非常称心如意的了。多年来，好客的布莱克威尔的家一直是他过冬的住处。正如他那运气更好的伙伴纽约人每年冬天都到棕榈滩和里维埃拉买了门票，所以索丕就谦卑地把他一年一度的逃奔计划安排到岛上了。而现在这个时间到了。他就睡在三张安息日报纸平铺在他的外套下，他的踝关节附近和膝盖上，并不能抵挡住严寒。所以该岛就立即隐约地出现在索丕的梦境里。有一个无尽循环的市政的施舍的机构，在其中他可以得到安置，有住宿以及维持简单的生活的食物。他可以从一栋楼搬到另一栋楼，整个冬天都会有人照顾他，但他更喜欢布莱克韦尔岛。
索丕很自豪。他如果去这些地方，就必须做一些事情。不管怎样，他得为他们给予的东西付出代价，他们不会向他要钱。但是他们会让他擦洗身子，会让他回答问题，想知道关于他生活的一切。因此，倒不如当个法律的座上宾更好些。虽然法律须按规则办事，但至少不会过分地干涉谦谦君子的私事。索丕决定了去该岛后,就立刻着手完成他的愿望。做这事有许多简单的方法。最令人愉快的事情就是在某个昂贵的餐馆奢侈地吃上一顿，然后就宣布破产，之后，就会被安静而无喧嚣地移交给一个警察。警察会逮捕他，接下来的事情就该由负责收留的地方官去做了。索丕离开了长凳，踱出了广场，穿过沥青地面，这里是百老汇和第五大道交汇到一起的地方。他转上百老汇大街，在一家灯火辉煌的咖啡店门前停了下来，在这里每天晚上会堆集着葡萄，蚕和原生质的精品。索丕对自己从背心最低处的那个钮口向上都很有信心。他剃了胡须，他的外套体面而又整洁，如果他能不受怀疑地坐到餐厅的一张桌子上的话，成功将就属于他的了。那露出桌面的上半身穿着还不错，这样无疑将会提高服务员心里对他的看法。他开始想他想吃什么。在他的脑海里，他可以看到整个晚餐。总价值不会是如此之高，以至于引起咖啡厅管理方面的恶意报复；然而，这顿美餐会让他吃得囊饱肚圆而又十分快乐地去投奔他的冬季避难所。但当索丕刚踏进餐厅的门内，服务员的目光就落在他那破旧的裤子和破烂的皮鞋上了。
强大有力而早有准备的双手把他拨拉到一边，啥话不说就匆忙地把他推到人行道，索丕转身离开百老汇。似乎他要去梦寐以求的岛屿的目的不只是要成为一个享乐主义者。一些能进入监狱的其他方法也必须想到。在第六大街的拐角处，许多电灯巧妙地显示着玻璃板背后的商品，使得商店的橱窗引人注目。索丕捡了一块鹅卵石把玻璃砸碎了。人们都朝着这个拐角处跑来，其中第一个是警察。索丕静静地站着不动，双手插在口袋里，微笑着看着眼前警察砸玻璃的那人跑哪儿去了?”军官兴奋地问道。你不以为这事可能与我有关吗？”索丕说，不无讽刺，但友好，就像他迎接好运一样。那警察的心里甚至拒绝接受索丕作为一条破案的线索。砸碎橱窗的人不会逗留和警察谈话的。他们只会溜之大吉。警察看见一个人在下面街区的半道上并跑着步去赶汽车。他就抽出警棍，追了上去。索丕心里厌恶，失望地走开了，他的图谋接连两次都失败了。街对面是一家不怎么起眼的餐馆，没有百老汇那家好。去那里的人并不富裕。它的食物不太好。来到这个地方，索丕穿的那颇受非仪的鞋子和泄露了隐私的裤子倒没有遭人白眼。他就坐在一张桌子上，吃了牛排、烙饼、甜甜圈和馅饼。然后他对服务员坦白说：我真的身无分文。现在,快去叫警察吧，”索丕说。“别让我这个绅士久等了。”“没有警察给你找，”服务员说，他叫来另一个服务员。
两个堂倌上前无情地把索丕推倒了，索丕的左耳贴在了坚硬的路面上。他就像打开一把折尺那样,从地上一节一节地爬起来，并从衣服上拍落了灰尘。企图被捕似乎就像一场玫瑰色的梦魇。离那个岛屿似乎很遥远。站在药店两扇门前的一位警察笑着离开了，然后走上了大街。索丕走了将近半英里才又试了一次。这一次他确信他会成功。一位端庄的年轻女子穿着令人愉悦的装束站在橱窗前，凝视着橱窗里展示的物品，离厨窗两码远处站着一个高大的警察。索丕的计划是和那个年轻女人说话。她是一位有着精致和优雅外表的女士，她不想让陌生男子和她说话。他相信邻近那个警察肯定会尽职尽责的，所以他很快就会感觉到那个愉快的官员就会过来抓住他的手臂，这将确保他过冬的住处就在右边那个虽小却很紧凑的小岛上。索丕一眼望见那个警察正在专注地看他。年轻女人移动了几步，再次全神贯注于那只剃须杯。索丕大胆地走到她身边，举起帽子，说：“晚上好，贝迪莱尔!你不想去我的院子里玩玩吗?”警察仍在注视着。那个被骚扰的年轻女人只要伸出一根指头示意了一下，索丕实际上就会奔向为他准备的孤岛避难所的途中了。他已经在想象着他能感觉到拘留所那舒适的温暖。但是那个年轻女子面对着他,却伸出一只手，抓住了索丕外套的袖子。“当然，迈克，”她欢快地说，“如果你能给我买一杯啤酒的话。我早就想跟你搭腔了,只是那个警察在看着呢。”由于那个年轻女子玩着常春藤缠橡树的把戏，索丕只好强忍着懊丧地从警察身旁走过去。他似乎命中注定该是自由的。他会永远自由吗？
在下一个街角他甩掉了他的同伴,跑了。当他停下来的时候，他已经在几个剧院附近了。他跑到一个这样的街区便停了下来，该街区夜间的灯光是最亮的，人心浮动，轻歌漫舞。穿着毛皮大衣的女人和披着大衣的男人在寒冷的空气中喜气洋洋地漫步。突然一种恐惧抓住了索丕，没有警察会逮捕他。他来到另一处富丽堂皇的剧院前。他就立即抓住了那根 “扰乱社会治安”的稻草。他开始大叫，好像喝得太多了。他手舞足蹈，拼命嚎叫，胡言乱语，使尽各种伎俩来干扰苍穹。警察挥舞着警棍，转身把脊背对着索丕，对一个公民解释：“这是一个耶鲁的小伙子在庆祝人们送给哈特福德大学的鹅蛋呢。虽吵，但无害。我们已经得到指示劝大家都离开他们。”十分惆怅的索丕只好停止了徒劳的胡闹。警察永远不会对他下手吗？在他的幻想里那个孤岛似乎是一个遥不可及的世外桃源。他扣住了薄外套来抵制这刺骨的寒风。在一家雪茄店，他看到一个穿着考究的人，他把一把丝绸伞放在了门口。索丕进了门,拿起伞,悠然自得地缓步走开了。点着了雪茄的男人匆忙追赶他。“我的伞，”他严厉地说。“哦，是吗？”索丕冷笑道,并对小盗窃罪加以侮辱。“嗯，你为什么不叫警察呢?我就拿了这把雨伞。而且是你的雨伞!你为什么不叫警察呢?警察就站在那个角落里。” 伞主人放慢了脚步。索丕也同样放慢了脚步，并预感到，运气将再次与他背道而驰。警察好奇地看着这两个人。“我——”伞的主人说——那---好吧,你知道这些错误是怎么发生的——我——如果它是你的雨伞，我希望你能原谅我,今天早上我是在一家餐馆捡的它——如果你认得它是你的,哎呀——我希望你能---”“是我的!”索丕愤怒地喊道。
那把伞的原主人撤退了。警察急忙赶去帮助街对面的女士，索丕走在东面。他愤怒地把那把伞扔进挖掘坑里。他对着那些戴着头盔，携带棍棒的人们咕哝地抱怨着。因为他想要落入他们的手里，而他们似乎把他看作是一个不可能犯错误的国王。索丕终于来到一条通向东方的道路，那里闪着微光还有微弱的震荡。他把脸朝向这个麦迪逊广场的方向，因为回家的本能还依然存在，所谓的回家只不过是去公园的一条长椅上。但是走到一个异常安静的角落时索丕停住了。这是一座古老的教堂，一股柔和的光线从紫罗兰色的玻璃窗里投射进来，于是那悦耳的音乐从教堂里飘出来飘进了索丕的耳朵，抓着并控制住了他那惊呆了的心，浩月当空，明亮而宁静，路上车辆和行人很少，在屋檐下，麻雀在入睡前还疲倦地啁啾着---一会儿那场景可能就变成了乡下墓地一般的清净。风琴师弹奏的圣歌如水泥那样把索丕紧紧地固定到那铁篱笆上，他的生活里也包含了诸如母亲,玫瑰,抱负,朋友,完美的想法和洁净的衣领这样的好事情。索丕心里的接受状态和那古老教堂对他的感化突然在他的灵魂深处发生了奇妙的变化。
他醒悟到这突然发生的恐惧让他如临深渊，那些堕落的日子，不值得的欲望，想死的希望，智障，卑鄙的动机，一起构成了他的全部生活状态。也就在这一瞬间，还有一会儿他的心回应了这异常新奇令人激动的情景。一种瞬时而强烈的冲动触动了他,要去与绝望的命运斗争。他要将自己从泥潭中拉出来，他会使自己再次成为一个男人的，他也会战胜那个已经占领了他的邪恶的。为时不晚，他还比较年轻，他会复活他那老早就渴望的抱负，毫不动摇地去追求它们。那些庄严而甜美的风琴音符在他心里掀起了一场革命。明天他会到喧嚣的市中心区去找工作。有个皮货进口商曾经提供给他一个司机的岗位。明天他会去找他并要求得到那个职位。他将会成为这个世界上的一位重要人物。他会——索丕感觉到有一只手放在了他的胳膊上。他快速扫视了一下周围，看到了一位宽阔脸庞的警察。“你在这里干什么?”警官问。没干什么.”索丕说。索丕充满了新的力量，开始争辩起来。与纽约警察争论是不明智的。那么跟我走吧,”警察说。“在这个岛上待三个月，”第二天早上,当地警察法院的法官说。
