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日出依旧

(2010-11-15 17:01:10)
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翻译

分类: 博主翻译练笔

Where the Sun Always Rises

                             by Marnie  O. Mamminga

“Get up! Get up!” my mother whispers. My eyes flash open 1 in the predawn gray. Sleepily, I look around the screened-in porch of our family’s log cabin, where we spend our vacation. I take in the green porch swing, the table, the twin bed where my sister sleeps, the smoky glass of the kerosene lantern2. My face feels the coolness of the early-morning air.

I relax and curl deeper beneath the blankets’ warmth.

“Get up!” my mother whispers again. “The sunrise is glorious!” Careful not to let the screen door slam, she sets off down to the lake.

    Get up to see the sunrise? The last thing this 14-uear-old wants to do is leave a warm bed to see the sun rise. It’s freezing out there.

    My 17-year-old sister pushes back her covers and sits up. I make a supreme effort and struggle out3 too. We grab my father’s World War II army blankets and wrap them tightly around our cotton pajamas. Our pace is quick. One of us misses catching the screen door. It slams.

    Gingerly, we pick our way over slippery rocks and prickly pine needles, down 49 dew-covered log steps to the shore. We catch our breath and look up. Across the lake, a sliver of brilliant red crests4 the top of the shadowed forest. It silhouettes5 our mother on the lake shore, the first light catching the soft red of her hair.

    Hues of lavender, rose and amber begin to pulsate6 in the sky. High above, in the soft blue, a lone star still sparkles. Silver mist rises gently from the lake. All is still.

    Suddenly, the curve of a brilliant sun bursts through the dark forest. The world begins to awaken. A blue heron7 rises from a distant shore and gently fans its way over the water. Two ducks make a rippled landing8 near our dock, while a loon9 skims along the edge of a nearby island, hunting its morning food.

    Breathing the chill air, the three of us draw our blankets closer. At last, the soft hues of dawn turn bright with the new day. The star fades. My sister and I take one more look and race back to bed.

    My mother is reluctant to leave the sunrise amphitheater10. It is a while before I hear her reach the top step and gently close the porch door.

 

    “Get up! Get up!” I whisper to my adolescent sons sleeping in the old metal beds on the cabin porch. “come see the sunrise! It’s awesome!”

    I watch as they snatch the World War II army blankets from their beds and stumble11 out the porch door. It slams. Gingerly12, they maneuver13 over slippery rocks and prickly pine needles down 49 dew-covered log steps to the lake shore.

    Their grandmother, her red hair now streaked14 with white, is already there. She greets us silently with a bright smile, gathers her blanket closer and turns toward the east.

    My sons watch intently as the rich colors of the sunrise soar into the sky. It isn’t long before the lake awakens at the flap of a blue heron’s wings and the melodic15 call of a loon.

    “Isn’t it beautiful?” I whisper. The boys nod silently. Before long, they grab the tails of their frayed16 blankets and race back up the steps to the warmth of their beds.

    My mother and I stay. Standing close, we watch the swirls of pearl mist rise and the graceful glide of an eagle high overhead. Our faces warm in the early sun.

We turn and begin the slow climb up the old log stairs. Halfway up, I look back to see how my mother is doing. But she’s not on the stairs. She has changed her mind. Through the trees I can see her, still on the shore, lingering17 in the light.

 

                                                         日出依旧

   玛尔尼··玛明戈  博主

 

起床!起床!母亲低声喊。我猛然睁开眼睛,天还没有破晓,外面灰蒙蒙的。我睡眼惺忪地环顾小木屋用屏风围起的门廊——我们一家人是来度假的,渐渐看清了门廊中绿色的秋千,还有桌子、姐姐睡的单人床和煤油灯烟熏得模糊的玻璃灯罩,面颊依然感到清晨空气的寒意。

    我更惬意地蜷缩进暖融融的毛毯中。

  起床!日出美极了!母亲小声催促。她说完便轻轻带上屏风门,朝湖边走去。

    起床看日出?此刻,我这个十四岁的女孩子,最不情愿的就是离开温暖的被窝去看日出了,外面冷飕飕的!

    十七岁的姐姐掀开被子坐了起来。我也下了很大决心迫使自己下了床。我们一把抓起二战时父亲用过的两条旧军毯,紧紧裹在身上的那层棉布睡衣外面,脚步匆匆,向湖边奔去。不知是谁失了手,屏风门“砰”地一声关上了。

    我和姐姐小心翼翼地踏着滑溜溜的岩石,躲开脚下带刺儿的松针,走下四十九级撒满露珠的原木台阶来到湖边。我们屏住呼吸,仰望东方。只见湖对岸,黑幽幽的森林上空出现一抹灿烂耀眼的红霞,勾勒出湖岸上母亲的轮廓,朝阳的第一缕霞光在她柔和的红发上跳跃。

淡紫、玫红、褐黄在天空中闪闪烁烁,交相辉映。淡蓝的天幕上,孤星闪耀。湖面上袅袅升起银白色的雾霭。万籁俱寂。

突然,黑魆魆的森林后面一轮灿灿红日喷薄而出,在森林上空划出一道弯弯的弧线。万物苏醒。远处湖岸边飞起一只蓝鹭,轻展双翅在水面上盘旋。两只鸭子在我们泊船处摇摇摆摆上了岸,湖面上留下阵阵涟漪。一只觅食的潜鸟沿着附近岛屿一掠而过。

呼吸着寒冷的空气,我们三人把身上的毯子裹得更紧了。此时,黎明柔和缤纷的色彩终于渐渐明朗,晨星消隐,新的一天诞生了。我和姐姐恋恋不舍地看了最后一眼,便飞速奔回到温暖的床上去。

母亲久久不愿离开日出这个露天大剧场。过了好一阵子,我才听到她走上台阶,在身后轻轻关上屏风门。

 

起床!起床! 我低声喊两个青春年少的儿子,他们睡在小木屋门廊的一张旧金属床上。快起来看日出!真是美极了! 我看着他们一把抓起床上那两条二战时祖父曾用过的旧军毯,磕磕绊绊,跑出门廊,屏风门“砰”地一声关上了。他们小心翼翼地踏着滑溜溜的岩石,躲避着带刺儿的松针,走下四十九级撒满露珠的原木台阶来到湖边。

他们的祖母已伫立在那儿,当年那头柔和的红发中已夹杂缕缕银丝。她朝我们莞尔一笑,便又裹了裹身上的毯子,转向东方。

霎时,日出的缤纷霞光洒满苍穹,孩子们目不转睛地凝望着。不久,湖面上蓝鹭飞翔,潜鸟啭鸣,湖水苏醒。

太美啦!我不由悄然感叹。他们点头默认,随后抓起边缘已经磨损的毯子一角,飞速跨上台阶,奔回到温暖的床上去。

我和母亲仍站在湖边,彼此靠得很近,凝视着珍珠般莹白的晨雾腾转上升,一只雄鹰在头顶优美地滑翔。朝阳暖融融地照在我们脸上。

最后我和母亲缓步踏上古老的原木台阶。途中,我回头看母亲,发现她已不在台阶上。透过林隙,我看到母亲又回到了湖边,在美丽的霞光中徜徉。

 

 

注释:

1flash open 这里指“快速睁开眼睛”

2kerosene lantern 煤油灯

3struggle out:这里指“挣扎着出被窝”

4crest 加上顶饰

5silhouette 使…现出轮廓

6Pulsate 搏动, 跳动

7heron

8land 上岸;登陆

9loon 潜鸟

10amphitheater 圆形剧场

11stumble(由于走路跌绊不稳)跌跌撞撞;绊倒

12gingerly 小心翼翼地

13maneuver 调整,操纵;(小心)移动

14streak 使有条纹

15Melodic 旋律优美的

16frayed (织物等)边缘磨损的

17linger 逗留

 

  《日出》是一篇文笔细腻、饱蘸深情、富含哲理的散文。文中,祖孙三代人在对美丽日出的欣赏中完成了对大自然的爱的接力,揭示出美丽永驻、自然永恒的主题,并用大自然永恒的美反衬人生的短暂,给人以无限启迪:人生易老,岁月有涯,生命也许匆匆,然而对自然、对生命的热爱能代代相传,对大自然美的欣赏会使人类短暂的生命更富有意义。文章语言优美,声情并茂,文学味浓郁,描写中有实与虚结合、动与静对比、色彩鲜明对照,还有丰富鲜明的意象、大量的明喻、排比、头韵等修辞格,都使文章的语言极富美感,全篇用如诗如画的语言给读者呈现出一幅五彩缤纷、灿烂迷人的日出画面,堪称一篇美文。

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