VOA美国故事(翻译+字幕+讲解):杰克·伦敦短篇小说《热爱生命》(1)
日期:2019-07-11 14:09

(单词翻译:单击)

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听力文本

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"Love of Life," by Jack London - Part One. The two men moved painfully down the bank and fell among the rocks that were scattered everywhere. They were tired and weak. Their faces showed the patient appearance that results from difficulty long endured. They were heavily burdened with blanket packs which were tied to their shoulders. Each man carried a gun. They walked in a leaning position, the shoulders forward, the head farther forward, the eyes fixed upon the ground. "I wish we had a couple of those cartridges that are lying in our cache," said the second man. His voice was completely without expression. And the first man, walking into the milky stream that flowed over the rocks, made no reply. The other man followed at his heels. They did not remove their shoes, although the water was icy cold. It was so cold that their feet soon were without feeling. In places, the water dashed against their knees, and both men found it difficult to remain standing.
The man who followed slipped upon a smooth rock and nearly fell. He recovered his footing with great effort, at the same time uttering a sharp cry of pain. He seemed faint and stretched one hand forward, seeking support against the air. When he had steadied himself, he stepped forward. But he slipped again and nearly fell. Then he stood still and looked at the other man, who had never turned his head. The man stood still for fully a minute, as if he were deciding something. Then he called: "I say - I say, Bill, I hurt my foot." Bill struggled ahead through the milky water. He did not look around. The man watched him go, and although his face lacked expression, as before, his eyes had the look of a wounded animal. The other man climbed the farther bank of the stream and continued straight ahead without looking back. The man in the stream watched him. His lips trembled a little. "Bill!" he cried.
It was the despairing cry of a strong man in trouble, but Bill's head did not turn. The man watched him go, struggling forward up the hill toward the skyline. He watched him go until he passed over the hilltop and disappeared. Then he turned his gaze and slowly examined the circle of the world that remained to him now that Bill was gone. The sun was low in the sky, almost hidden by a cover of clouds. The man looked at his watch, while supporting his weight on one leg. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. The season was near the end of July or the first of August. He did not know the exact date within a week or two, but that was enough to know that the sun marked the northwest. He looked to the south and decided that somewhere beyond those hills lay the Great Bear Lake. Also, he knew that behind the same hills the Arctic Circle cut its way across the plains of northern Canada, called the Barrens. This stream in which he stood flowed into the Coppermine River, which in turn flowed north and emptied into the Arctic Ocean. He had never been there, but he had seen it once on a map.
Again his gaze completed the circle of the world about him. It was not a cheerful sight. Everywhere was soft skyline. The hills were all low-lying. There were no trees, no grasses. There was nothing but a vast emptiness that brought fear into his eyes. "Bill!" he whispered, once, and twice, "Bill!" He stood trembling in the milky water, feeling the vastness pressing in upon him with great force. He began to shake as with a disease, until the gun falling from his hand into the stream brought him back to reality. He fought with his fear and regaining his self-control, he recovered the gun from the water. He pushed his pack more toward his left shoulder. This helped to take a portion of its weight off the foot he had hurt. Then he proceeded, slowly and carefully, in great pain, to the bank of the stream. He did not stop. With a worry that was madness, unmindful of the pain, he hurried up the hill to the top, over which his companion had disappeared. But at the top he saw a valley, empty of life. He fought with his fear again and won. Then once more he moved the pack farther toward his left shoulder and struggled down the hill

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The bottom of the valley was very wet. Thick plant life held the moisture close to the surface and the water flowed from under his feet at every step. He picked his way carefully across the valley and followed the other man's footsteps along the rocks which made small islands in the sea of wet plant life. Although alone, he was not lost. Farther on, he knew, he would come to where dead pine trees bordered the shore of a little lake. In the language of that country it was called the "land of little sticks." Into that lake flowed a small stream, the water of which was not milky. There was grass along that stream, but no trees. He would follow the stream until it divided. He would cross this place of dividing to another stream, flowing to the west. This he would follow until it emptied into the river Dease. Here he would find a cache under an upturned boat and covered with many rocks. In this cache there would be cartridges for his empty gun, and fishhooks and lines. Everything he needed for catching food would be there. Also he would find flour, a little meat, and some beans.
Bill would be waiting for him there, and they would find a boat and row south down the Dease to the Great Bear Lake. And south across the lake they would go, ever south, until they came to the Mackenzie River. And south, always south they would go, while the winter raced after them and the ice formed in the streams, and the days grew cold. South they would go, to some warm place where the trees grew tall and full and there was food without end. These were the thoughts of the man as he struggled forward. But as strongly as he struggled with his body, he struggled equally with his mind. He tried to believe that Bill had not deserted him. Surely Bill would wait for him at the cache. He was forced to think this thought. Otherwise, there would not be any reason to continue, and he would lie down and die.
As the ball of the sun sank slowly into the northwest, he recalled every inch of his and Bill's flight south ahead of the oncoming winter. And he thought again and again of the food in the cache. It had been two days since he had anything to eat. It was a far longer time since he had had enough to eat. Often he picked muskeg berries, put them into his mouth, and ate them. A muskeg berry is a small seed in a drop of water. In the mouth, the water melts away and the seed tastes bitter. The man knew there was no real food value in the berries; but he ate them patiently with a hope greater than his experience. At nine o'clock that night he hit his toe on a rocky surface, and from weakness and tiredness he fell to the ground. He lay for some time, without movement, on his side. He took his pack from his back and dragged himself into a sitting position. It was not yet dark. While some light remained he felt among the rocks for pieces of dried plants. When he had gathered a pile, he built a fire and put a tin pot of water on it to boil.
He unwrapped his pack. The first thing he did was to count his matches. There were 67. He counted them three times to be sure. He divided them into several portions, wrapping them in paper. He put one portion in his empty tobacco pack, another in the inside band of his hat, and a third under his shirt against his flesh. This accomplished, he began to worry whether he had counted correctly. He unwrapped them all and counted them again. Yes, there were 67. He dried his wet shoes and socks by the fire. The moccasins were badly torn. His socks were worn through in places, and his feet were bleeding. The area between his foot and leg, the ankle, was very painful. He examined it. It had swelled until it was as large as his knee. He cut a long strip from one of his two blankets and bound the ankle tightly. He cut other strips and bound them about his feet to serve both for moccasins and socks. Then he drank the pot of hot water, wound his watch, and pulled his blankets around him.
He slept like a dead man. The brief darkness at midnight came and went. Then the sun rose in the northeast. It can better be said that day dawned in that quarter of the sky, because the sun was hidden by gray clouds. At six o'clock in the morning he waked, quietly lying on his back. He gazed straight up into the gray sky and knew that he was hungry. As he lifted himself on his elbow, he was frightened by a loud noise. There was a caribou looking at him curiously. The animal was not more than 50 feet away, and instantly, into the man's mind came the picture of caribou meat cooking over a fire. From habit, he reached for the empty gun and aimed it. The caribou leaped away and disappeared across the rocks.

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重点解析

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1.a couple of 几个;两三个

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I spent a couple of days sight-seeing in Guilin.

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我在桂林盘桓了几天,观光了名胜g_|dbb*9+i0br2kC

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2.at the same time 同时;与此同时

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I was afraid of her, but at the same time I really liked her.

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我害怕她,但同时也确实喜欢她Pbltsh=k@%umM.

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3.farther on 再向前;更远些

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About three hundred yards farther on there is a turning to the left.

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再往前大约300码有一个向左拐的拐角E=QP8EY1X(b5[wH

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4.gaze into 凝视;注视

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Gaze into the spacious blue sky, which fills my eyes.

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抬头望天空,一汪蓝天映满我的眼2TGv3YqmGbQ#

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参考译文

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热爱生命,作者杰克·伦敦QmhL+*TxLTaz^fpiW。两个男人吃力地走下河岸,有一次,还在乱石之间跌倒kw8Qy^;Vs9sb^,x4。他们感到疲惫又虚弱,脸上带着因长途跋涉显露出的倦容q[jYB+)[Z5f;!~id。他们肩上捆着用毯子包起来的沉重包袱,每人拿着一支枪,弯着腰走路,肩膀冲向前面,而脑袋则冲得更前,眼睛总是瞅着地面(MT^n2+PdZNL@d_SxQa。 “我们藏起来的那些子弹,要有带上两三发就好了,”第二个人说道F16Jg4r|lE#08。他的声调干巴巴的,完全没有感情=uE).RONjx~b6d@。前面那个人在流过岩石、激起白茫茫泡沫的小河里走着,一句话也不回答EngJ*wNet(Td
后面的那个紧跟着他~Q+ba@a@xX3%Ed[S=7dj。他们两个都没有脱掉鞋子,虽然河水冰冷——冷得他们的双脚很快就失去了知觉X8Tqm3f=gdW&8。走到河水冲击着他们膝盖的地方,两个人都摇摇晃晃地站不稳;[,ZnW@9h=,[]54ar~i。后面那个人在一块光滑的岩石上滑了一下,差一点没摔倒7E5mzkzc7G。但是,他猛力一挣,站稳了,同时痛苦地尖叫了一声4w,#UVL@_H。他仿佛有点头昏眼花,向前伸出一只手,好像打算扶着空中的什么东西@z^&KdM@eTmi=WDv(J。站稳之后,他再向前走去,不料又摇晃了一下,几乎摔倒(Np*x.J.@BHIk|u7GIT。于是,他就站着不动,瞧着前面那个一直没有回过头的人WtL=onyUb,M1L。他这样一动不动地足足站了一分钟,好象心里在说服自己一样(.]x,T)Fi0CNg,b)n*i。接着,他就叫了起来:“喂,比尔,我扭伤脚腕子啦#Hbhhnf%o!Wc~OKYnzk。”比尔在白茫茫的河水里一摇一晃地走着,他没有回头JX0ZWkP19((]v10。后面那个人瞅着他这样走去;脸上虽然照旧没有表情,眼睛里却流露着跟一头受伤动物样的神色ooyM6bZ^ZpK3Z^Jo。前面那个人登上对面的河岸,头也不回,只顾向前走去S5l+Tl3I0--a4Iyr。河里的人眼睁睁地瞧着,他的嘴唇有点发抖2w8!i*8#)&Ozbd8fy2)T。“比尔!”他大声地喊着x#;s-1[ts*
这是一个坚强的人在患难中求援的喊声,但比尔并没有回头Z-b;@i!R6v8gJf。他的伙伴干瞧着他,只见他跌跌冲冲地向前登上一个小山坡,向着天际走去,glSkTBi3wj_ZL。他一直瞧着他跨过山头,消失了踪影0qUloCE6aJBhZ1wb,N。于是他掉转眼光,慢慢扫过比尔走后留给他的那一圈世界Q*8970Ep3k[@th。靠近地平线的太阳,几乎被云层遮没了,这个人单腿立着休息,掏出了他的表PF=0L7S3oy3VK2o。现在是下午四点,正值七月底或八月初的季节Sc6!ifmHiGy1[PDFazOV。他说不出一两个星期之内的确切日期,但他知道太阳大约是在西北方mY%V!Gl@^iB,oig。他瞧了瞧南面,知道在那些小山后面就是大熊湖FYW2cW]@gw_Q2Oc。同时,他还知道在那个方向上,北极圈深入到加拿大称为冻土地带的北部平原s;.0Dk_oDum!N。他所站的地方,是铜矿河的一条支流,铜矿河向北流去,通向北冰洋l9i,0vV2d]x7IzU。他从来没到过那儿,但是,有一次,他在地图上曾经瞧见过那地方X4SWdb|6AzAXh4hCb
他把周围那一圈世界重新扫了一遍,这是一片让人看后会发愁的景象Bl^cm,5U5M0Zn&。到处都是模糊的天际线,小山全是那么低低的=I|8F3H-ClbFCOQ_6_。没有树木,没有草,什么都没有,只有一片辽阔可怕的荒野,迅速使他两眼露出了恐惧的神色ieWm(~),Gc%p8tlf(n。“比尔!”他悄悄地、一次又一次地喊道:“比尔!”他在白茫茫的水里畏缩着,好象这片广袤的景象正在用压倒一切的力量挤压着他#~,=lBJ_uP%8*.#a(。他象发疟子似地抖了起来,连手里的枪都掉落到水里,这总算把他惊醒了.&8bRwj1Sy)=bSWa。他和恐惧斗争着,尽力鼓起精神,在水里摸索,找到了枪;Ld[=#V4RU*!Jy!v。他把包袱向左肩挪动了一下,以便减轻扭伤的脚腕子的负担+4]c5JL+FWMh*gf。接着,他就小心谨慎地慢慢前行,疼得闪闪缩缩地向河岸走去u7ud!y^CmM2Uux。他一步也没有停,象发疯似地拼着命,不顾疼痛,匆匆登上斜坡,走向他的伙伴失去踪影的那个山头nB8zFR2zdY2v。可是到了山头,只看见一片死沉沉的山谷iL1MRu~z#L]6e+ZI。他又和恐惧斗争着,克服了它,把包袱再往左肩挪了挪,蹒跚地走下山坡=&@4loUnX*2Zi
谷底一片潮湿,浓厚的苔藓紧贴在水面上;%MKB;r[~_@&8WLQ。他走一步,水就从脚底下溅射出来HC*KYbk2(9。他小心地挑着好路穿过山谷,顺着比尔的脚印,走过那些象突出在这片苔藓海里的小岛一样的岩石OrPLbicMgD。他虽然孤零零的一个人,却没有迷路;vl#D,u03]L)Bp2。他知道,再往前去,就会走到一个小湖旁边,那儿有许多枯死的松树,当地的人把那儿叫作“小棍子地”r[%tEb.6nhh)yVtv7。还有一条小溪通到湖里,溪水不是白茫茫的eKNITPAlF_KGO_xz。溪边长着杂草,但是没有树木,他可以沿着这条小溪一直走到水源尽头的分水岭]Kl;(DfX][8m。他会翻过这道分水岭,走到另一条小溪的源头,这条溪是向西流的WAHp.g=zBBs3;|-vvgm|。他可以顺着水流走到它注入狄斯河的地方,那里,在一条翻了的独木船下面可以找到一个小坑,坑上面堆着许多石头j%=yI&pP0mrK#RJ。这个坑里有他那支空枪所需要的子弹,还有钓钩、钓丝,打猎钓鱼求食的一切工具M.B4rE2oyw。同时,他还会找到面粉,一小块肉和一些豆子PTR8_C4r1)QQ.+,JW
比尔会在那里等他的,他们会找到一条小船,然后会在湖里朝南方划,一直划到大熊湖0Wi9elATnZ9UzXt8。过了湖后,他们还要继续朝南方走去,一直要走到麦肯齐河lJ(NKYkgXden)%wM3F!。一直朝南,那么冬天就怎么也赶不上他们了|ALVIlbmOi8[!。让湍流结冰吧,让天气变得更凛冽吧,他们会向南走到一个暖和的地方,那儿不仅树木长得高大茂盛,吃的东西也多得不得了DsTXIx]XU~I8tKMb(ILA。这个人一路向前挣扎的时候,脑子里就是这样想的aWvwqNEhvzUX。他不仅苦苦地拼着体力,也同样苦苦地绞着脑汁,他尽力想着比尔并没有抛弃他,想着比尔一定会在藏东西的地方等他ymHp1i7IpA0。他不得不这样想,不然,他就用不着这样拼命,他早就会躺下来死掉了L,BdyVna8UBVeS8Ot^Y@
当那团象圆球一样的太阳慢慢向西北方沉下去的时候,他一再盘算着在冬天追上他和比尔之前,他们向南逃去的每一寸路途m98EfQ%PZWh。他反复地想着地窖里吃的东西euc[Sn;tYTIx~c!L]。他已经两天没吃东西了,至于能吃得饱饱的日子,那就更不止两天了SdS~R*xCDceV[s63。他常常摘起沼泽地上的浆果,把它们放到口里,然后吞下去Ypg85)PBP@jh。这种沼地浆果只有一小粒种籽,外面包着一点浆水#[*CQFq4;#gcF7FK9。一进口,水就化了,种籽是苦味的px=wC%3+A%dRE|Isze。他知道这种浆果并没有养份,但是他仍然抱着一种不顾经验教训的希望,耐心地嚼着它们Zi^Jy;5FDPNh-2crD;t。走到晚上九点钟时,他在一块岩石上绊了一下,因为极端疲倦和衰弱,他栽倒在地yeK6THO2|@[W2V。他侧着身子、一动也不动地躺了一会ATq=d=Ju[LHh。他卸下背上的包袱,挣扎着坐起来EKC_Z4,yLM。这时候,天还没有完全黑,他借着留连不散的暮色,在乱石中间摸索着,想找到一些干枯的苔藓Ivqkx3G*W&#)@t。后来,他收集了一堆,就升起一蓬火,还把一壶水放在上面煮着S-~).lACefFc
他打开包袱,第一件事就是数数他的火柴,一共六十七根8Z5Pbu)Ixvv0ie,1。为了弄清楚,他数了三遍hTC,IBk.-yeAL@H。他把它们分成几份,用油纸包起来,一份放在他的空烟草袋里,一份放在破帽子的帽圈里,最后一份放在贴胸的衬衫里面*cBi3.PyvYQKW。做完以后,他忽然感到一阵担忧,不知道是不是数对了9-rK+[3d)|M5xd&-D。于是把它们全拿出来打开,重新数过7=_9=HHqld[,^.+cJ。没错,是六十七根3M1_JM||~#]kD;fv7b_。他在火边烘着潮湿的鞋袜,鹿皮鞋已经破成了碎片Be!sdNr8Z]-@D=U4。袜子有好多地方都磨穿了,两只脚都在流血Q.oz[I+(Yo=)hJq。一只脚腕子胀得非常疼痛,他检查了一下,已经肿得和膝盖一样粗了qTK+1RT_LBvGcz。他一共有两条毯子,他从其中的一条撕下一长条,把脚腕子捆紧@ysip]bdPA。然后又撕下几条,裹在脚上,代替鹿皮鞋和袜子FRS&5.FO+Gl。接着,他喝完那罐滚烫的水,上好表的发条,就爬进两条毯子当中y*5%tgjy.S!i;Sub
他睡得跟死人一样,午夜前后短暂的黑暗来而复去%k#C_PH_ab^Rw。太阳从东北方升了起来,至少可以说那个方向出现了曙光,因为太阳给乌云遮住了6kC[NT03T@#_ZC。清晨六点钟的时候,他醒了过来,静静地仰面躺着[~8bKK5f8|qi!。他仰视着灰色的天空,知道肚子饿了Pg5)S-Ds5F3&p-L!hCIp。当他撑住胳膊肘翻身的时候,一种很大的声音把他吓了一跳,他看见了一只公鹿,它正在用好奇的眼光瞧着他9)So|OPfwN^MRVlM。这个牲畜离他不过五十尺光景,他脑子里立刻出现了鹿肉在火上烤得咝咝响的情景OQUQC.L5!@H。他无意识地抓起了那支空枪,瞄好准星8by;%W-yr0^==。公鹿一跳就跑开了,消失在乱石之中MQUf^o^F=oFGtn

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重点单词
  • accomplishedadj. 娴熟的,有造诣的,完成的,有成就的,毫无疑问的
  • faintn. 昏厥,昏倒 adj. 微弱的,无力的,模糊的 v.
  • flowingadj. 流动的;平滑的;上涨的 v. 流动;起源;上涨
  • rockyadj. 岩石的,像岩石的,坚硬的,麻木的,困难重重的
  • fell动词fall的过去式 n. 兽皮 vt. 砍伐,击倒 a
  • pinen. 松树,松木 vi. 消瘦,憔悴,渴望
  • portionn. 部分,份,命运,分担的责任
  • circlen. 圈子,圆周,循环 v. 环绕,盘旋,包围
  • desertedadj. 废弃的,荒芜的,被遗弃的 动词desert的过
  • movementn. 活动,运动,移动,[音]乐章