冬日漫步AWinter Walk（1/2）
亨利·大卫·梭罗/ Henry David Thoreau
亨利·大卫·梭罗（1817—1862），散文家、超验主义哲学家。出生于美国以超验主义中心著称的康科德，并在那儿度过了大半生。梭罗毕生以超验主义作为自己的生活准则，并将之发挥到极致；他一生未娶，曾隐居瓦尔登湖两年有余，过着与世隔绝的生活，并在湖边的木屋里写下了著名的《瓦尔登湖》一书。本文即选自此书。
Acethe Hole
Uand these new words before you read this article.
1. creak [kri:k] v. 发出咯吱咯吱声
2. tread [tred] v. 踏
3. creep [kri:p] v. 爬行；慢慢地移动
4. loiter [l?it?] v. 闲**；虚度
5. forlorn [f?l?:n] adj. 被遗弃的
The d has gently urured through the blds, or puffed with feathery softness agast the dows, and oasionally sighed like a sur zephyr liftg the leaves along, the livelong night. The adow oe has slepthis snug gallerythe sod, the owl has sata hollow treethe depth of the s, the rabbit, the squirrel, and the fox have all beehe watch-dog hasquiet on the hearth, and the cattle have stood silenttheir stalls. The earth itself has slept, as it were its first, not its st sleep, save when so street sign or woodhoe door has fatly creaked upon its hge, cheerg forlorn nature at her idnight work—the only sound awake ixt Ven and Mars—advertisgof a reote ward warth, a dive cheer and fellowship, where gods are t together, but where it is very bleak for n to stand. But while the earth has sbered, all the air has been alive with feathery fkes desdg, as if so northern Ceres reigned, sh her silvery gra over all the fields.
We sleep, and at length awake to the still reality of a ter . The snow lies war as tton or down upon the dow sill; the broadened sash and frosted panes adit a di and private light, whihahe snug cheer with. The stillness of theis ipressive. The floor creaks under our feet as we ove toward the dow to look abroad through so clear space over the fields, we see the roofs stand uheir snow burden. Fro the eaves and fences hang stactites of snow, andthe yard stand stagites verg so ncealed re. The trees and shrubs rear white ars to the sky on every side; and where were walls and fences, we see fantastic fors stretchgfrolic gabols across the dky ndscape, as if Nature had strewn her fresh designs over the fields by night as odels for an’s art.
Silently we untch the door, lettg the drift fall , and step abroad to face the cuttg air. Already the stars have lost so of their sparkle, and a dull, leaden ist skirts the horizon. A rid brazen lightthe east procis the approach of day, while the western ndscape is di and spectral still, and clotheda sober Tartarean light, like the shadowy reals. They are fernal sounds only that you hear—the crog of cks, the barkg of dogs, the choppg of wood, the log of ke, all see to e fro Pto’s barnyard and beyond the Styx—not for any ncholy they suggest, but their ilight btle is too solen and ysterio for earth. The ret tracks of the fox or otter,the yard, redthat each hour of the night is crowded with events, and the prival nature is still w and akg tracksthe snow. Openg the gate, we tread briskly along the lory road, chg the dry and crisped snow under our feet, or aroed by the sharp, clear creak of the wood sled, jt startg for the distant arket, fro the early farr’s door, where it hasthe sur long, dreag aid the chips and stubble; while far through the drifts and powdered dows we see the farr’s early dle, like a paled star, eittg a lonely bea, as if so severe virtue were at its ats there. And one by ohe sokes beg to asd fro the eys aid the trees and snows.
We hear the sound of wood choppg at the farrs’doors, far over the frozeh, the bayg of the hoe-dog, and the distantof the ck—though the th and frosty air nveys only the fer particles of sound to our ears, with short and sweet vibrations, as the waves subside soo on the purest and lightest liquids,which gross substances sk to the botto. They e clear and bell-like, and fro a greater distahe horizons, as if there were fewer ipedts thansur to ake the fat and ragged. The ground is sonoro, like seasoned wood, and even the ordary rural sounds are lodio, and the jglg of the i the trees is sweet and liquid. There is the least possible oisturethe atosphere, all beg dried up ealed, and it is of such extre tenuity aicity that it bees a source of delight. The withdrawn and tense sky sees groed like the aisles of a cathedral, and the polished air sparkles as if there were crystals of ice floatgit. As they who have residedGreennd tellthat when it freezes“the sea sokes like burng turf-nd, and a fog or ist arises, called frost-soke,”which cuttg soke frequently raises blisters on the fad hands, and is very pernicio to the health.”But this pure, stgg ld is an elixir to the ngs, and not so uch a frozen ist as a crystallized idsur haze, refed and purified by ld.
...
In ter, nature is a cabet of curiosities, full of dried spes,their natural order and position. The adows and forests are a hort si. The leaves and grasses stand perfectly pressed by the air without screw u, and the bird’s s are not hung on an artificial ig, but where they built the.
But now, while we have loitered, the clouds have gathered aga, and a few stragglg snowfkes are begng to desd. Faster and faster they fall, shuttg out the distant objects fro sight. The snow falls on every wood and field, and no crevice is fotten; by the river and the pond, on the hill andthe valley. Quadrupeds are o their verts and the birds sit upon their perches this peaceful hour. There is not so uch sound asfair weather, but silently and gradually every slope, and the gray walls and fences, and the polished ice, and the sere leaves, which were not buried before, are ncealed, and the tracks of n as are lost. With so little effort does nature reassert her rule and blot out the trace of n. Hear how Hor has described the sa:“The snowfkes fall thid fast on a ter’s day. The ds are lled, and the snow falls cessant, verg the s of the ountas, and the hills, and the ps where the lrows, and the cultivated fields, and they are fallg by the lets and shores of the foag sea, but are silently dissolved by the waves.”The snow levels all thgs, and lds the deeperthe boso of nature, as,the slow sur, vegetation creeps up to the entabture of the teple, and the turrets of the castle, and helps her to prevail over art.
参考译文
微风缓缓地吹着百叶窗，吹在窗上，非常温柔，像羽毛似的，偶尔也会犹如几声叹息，听起来像夏日漫漫长夜里风轻抚着树叶的声音。在铺着草皮的地下，田鼠正在地洞里呼呼大睡，猫头鹰则在沼泽地深处的一棵空心树里蹲着，兔子、松鼠、狐狸都待在家里。看门的狗静静地躺在暖炉旁，牛羊在栏圈里悄无声息。连大地都在沉睡——但这不是寿终正寝，而是忙碌一年后第一次美美地睡上一觉。夜已经深了，大自然还在忙碌着，只有街上一些招牌或小木屋的门轴不时嘎吱嘎吱地响，给沉寂的大自然带来一点慰藉。也只有这些声音，预示着在茫茫宇宙中，在金星和火星之间，天地万物还有一些是清醒的。我们想起了看似遥远却也许近在心中的“温暖感觉”，还有那些只有天神们在相聚时才能感受到的——一种神圣的鼓舞和难得的交情，而这些对于凡人是不胜苍凉的。大地此刻在酣睡，可是空气还很活跃，鹅毛大雪漫天飞舞，好像是一个北方的五谷女神，正在把她的银种子撒在我们的田野上。
我们也进入了梦乡，等到醒来时，恰是冬季的早晨。世界静悄悄的，雪下了厚厚的一层。窗棂上像铺了柔软的棉花或羽绒，窗格子显得宽了些，玻璃上爬满了冰纹，看起来黯淡而神秘，使家里变得更加温馨舒适。早晨的寂静真令人难忘。我们踏着吱吱作响的地板来到窗口前，站在一块没有结冰的地方，眺望田野风景。屋顶被皑皑的白雪覆盖着，雪冻成的冰条挂在屋檐下和栅栏上；院子里的雪柱像竹笋一样立着，雪柱里有没有藏着什么东西，就无从知晓了；树木和灌木向四面八方伸展着它们白色的枝干；原来是墙壁和篱笆的地方，形态更加奇妙，在昏暗的大地上，它们向左右延伸，似乎在跳跃。仿佛一夜的工夫，大自然就重新设计了一幅田野美景，供人类的艺术家来临摹。
我们静静地拔去了门闩，让飞雪飘进屋里，走出屋外，寒风如利刃般扑面扑来。星星有点黯淡无光，地平线上笼罩了一层深色沉重的薄雾。东方露出一点耀眼的古淡色光彩，预示着天就要亮了，可是西边的景物，还是很模糊，一片昏暗，无声无响，似乎是笼罩着地狱之光，鬼影扑现着，好像是非人间。耳边的声音也有点阴气沉沉——鸡鸣犬吠，砍木柴断裂的声音，牛群低沉的叫声——这一切好像来自阴阳河彼岸冥王星的农场，倒不是这些声音本身特别凄凉，只是天还没有亮，所以听起来很肃穆很神秘，不像是来自于人间。院子里、雪地上，狐狸和水獭所留下的印迹清晰可见，这些提醒我们：即使是在冬夜最寂静的时候，自然界里的生物也在时时刻刻活动着，并且在雪地里留下足迹。打开大门，我们迈着轻快的脚步，踏上僻静的乡村小路，雪很干很脆，踩上去发出吱吱的响声。早起的农夫，驾着雪橇，到远处的市场上去赶集。这辆雪橇整个夏天都闲置在农夫的门口，如今与木屑稻梗做伴，可算是有了用武之地。它尖锐、清晰、刺耳的声音，可真能让早起赶路的人头脑清醒。透过堆满积雪的农舍，我们看见农夫早早地把蜡烛点亮了，就像一颗孤寂的星星，散发着稀落的光，宛如某种朴素的美德在作晨祷。接着，烟囱里冒出的炊烟从树丛和雪堆里袅袅升起。
我们能听见农夫劈砍柴火的声音，大地冰封，不时有鸡鸣狗叫的声音传出。寒冷的空气，只能把那些尖锐的声音传入我们的耳朵，那些声音听起来短促悦耳。凡是清醇轻盈的**，稍有波动也很快停止，因为里面的晶体硬块，很快沉到底下去了。声音从地平线的远处传来，像钟声一样清晰响亮，冬天的空气清新，不像夏天那样混合着许多杂质，因而声音听来也不像夏天那样刺耳模糊。走在冰封的土地上，声音犹如敲击坚硬的木块那样洪亮，甚至是乡村里最平凡的声响，都听起来美妙动听，树上的冰条，互相撞击，听起来像铃声一样悦耳，乐在其中。空气里几乎没有水分，水蒸气不是干化，就是凝固成霜了。空气十分稀薄而且似乎带弹性，人呼吸进去，顿感心旷神怡。天空似乎被绷紧了，往后移动，从下向上望，感觉像置身于大教堂中，头上是一块块连在一起的弧形的屋顶，空气被过滤得纯粹明净，好像有冰晶沉浮在中间，正如格陵兰的居民告诉我们的，当那里结冰的时候，“海就冒烟，像大火爆发的威力，而且伴有雾气升腾，称为烟雾，这烟雾能让人的手和脸起疱肿胀，并对人体有害。”但是我们这里的空气，虽然冰寒刺骨，但是质地清醇，可以滋养心肺，提神醒脑。我们不会把它当作冻霜，而会把它看作仲夏雾气的结晶，经过严寒的凝结，变得更加清醇了。
大自然在冬天是一架旧橱柜，各种干枯了的标本按照它们生长的次序，摆得井然有序。草原和树林成了一座“植物标本馆”。树叶和野草保持着完美的形态，在空气的压力下，不需要用螺丝钉或胶水来固定。巢不用挂在假树上，虽然树已经枯萎了，可那毕竟是真树，鸟儿在哪里建的，还保留在哪里。
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