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专业英语八级考试翻译练习
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黄昏
茅盾
侮是深蓝色的,说不上光滑;排了队的小浪开正步走,数不清有多少,喊着口令“一,二—— 一”似的,朝喇叭口的海塘来了。挤到沙滩边,噗澌! —— 队伍解散,喷着愤怒的白沫。然而后一排又赶着扑上来了。
三只五只的白鸥轻轻地掠过,翅膀扑着波浪—一 一点一点躁怒起来的波浪。
风在掌号。冲锋号!小波浪跳跃着,每一个像个大眼睛,闪射着金光。满海全是金眼睛,全在跳跃二海塘下空隆空隆地腾起了喊杀。
而这些海的跳跃着的金眼睛重重叠叠一排接一排,一排怒似一排,一排比一排浓溢着血色的赤,连到天边,成为缉金色的一抹。这上头,半轮火红的夕阳!
半边天烧红了,重甸甸地压在夕阳的光头上。
愤怒地挣扎的夕阳似乎在说:
哦,哦!我已经尽今天的历史的使命,我已经走完了今天的路程了!现在,现在,是我的休息时间到了,是我的死期到了!哦,哦!却也是我的新生期快开始了!明天.从海的那一头,我将威武地升起来,给你们光明,给你们温暖,给你们快乐!
呼——呼——
风带着永远不会死的太阳的宣言到全世界。高的喜马拉雅山的最高峰,汪洋的太平洋,阴郁的古老的小村落,银的白光冰凝了的都市—— 一切,一切,夕阳都喷上了一口血焰!
两点三点白鸥划破了渐变为褚色的天空。
风带着夕阳的宣言去了。
像忽然融化了似的;海的无数跳跃着的金眼睛摊平为暗绿的大面孔。
远近有悲壮的茄声。
夜的黑幕沉重地将落未落。
不知到什么地方去过一次的风,忽然又回来了。这回是打着鼓似的:勃仑仑,勃仑仑!不,不单是风,有雷!风挟着雷声!
海又动荡,波浪跳起来,轰!轰!
在夜的海上,大风雨来了!
参考译文
Helping Each Other
Wang Meng
Mr. L. had been a member of the literary circles for years without attracting any public attention. He felt rather deserted, and so he managed through various personal connections to invite Mr. J., a famous literary critic, to an elaborate dinner besides presenting him with expensive gifts. Mr. J. was quite moved by Mr. L.’s hospitality and promised right away, "It's not fair that you have been so ignored! I must write an article for a key newspaper to recommend your works. The merits of your works are...
Mr. L. hastily cut in, shaking his head and waving his hands," No! No! I only beg you to write a very severe criticism against me. From my years of experience, I have come to the conclusion that all articles you criticize mill become popular not only in our country but also in the world. Meanwhile, you gain greater fame and interests through your criticism. Ibis is indeed `extremes meet' and hill only end up with mutual help and benefit!"
Dusk
Mao Dun
The sea is deep blue, and cannot be called smooth, for countless rows of small breakers are marching in parade-step as if following the shouted command, “One, two! One! "—towards the trumpet-shaped jetty. Crowded close together, they rush to the sandy beach-splash! The marching ranks scatter and burst into angry spray. The rows immediately behind follow suit.
A few white seagulls flicker across the surface of the sea, quickly and lightly, wings skimming the waves which become, little by little, increasingly restive. The wind is trumpeting, a bugle calling to charge! Small breakers spring up, each breaker like a large eye casting out golden sparks. The whole sea is full of golden eyes, all leaping. Rumble-rumble… beneath the jetty a battle cry bursts forth.
The sea's golden eyes fall into ranks, each rank pursued by the next, each angrier than the last and deepening to blood-red as they stretch to the golden line of the horizon. There, above, lies the fiery half circle of the setting sun!
Half the sky burns red, pressing heavily down upon the bald head of the sun.
The indignantly struggling sun seems to be saying:
"Ohl Oh! 1 have completed today's historic duty; I have finished today's journey! Now, now, my time to rest has come; my time to die is here. Oh! Oh l And yet, it is also my rebirth that will soon begin! Tomorrow, from the other end of the sea, 1 shall bravely hoist myself up, give you light, give you warmth, give you joy!"
Whooo-huuu…
The wind carries the declaration of the never-dying sun to all the world. The highest peaks of the Himalayas; the endless waters of the Pacific; small, old, gloomy villages; cities frozen by silver lights upon each and every one, the setting sun scatters its blood-red flames !
The sky, deepening to ochre, is broken by two or three seagulls.
The wind that carried the declaration of the dying sun has
As if suddenly melting, the countless leaping golden eyes smooth themselves down into a great, dull, green face.
From near, then far, corms the solemn, trade sound of a flute.
Night's black curtain will be heavily lowered, but has not yet completely fallen.
The wind, having gone no-one-knows-where, suddenly returns, returns as a beating drum: Boom-lum-lum, Boom- lum-lum! Ho, not the wind alone, but thunder? The wind carries the voice of thunder!
The sea roils again, waves surging high, crash! Crash!
To the night-bound sea a storm has come!
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