現(xiàn)在,我無需詳述戰(zhàn)爭的損耗和殘忍。
These stare us wildly in the face, like lurid meteor lights, as we travel the page of history.
當(dāng)我們在歷史長河中駐足時,這些景象就像流星耀眼的光芒一樣,粗暴地映在我們臉上。
We see the desolation and death that pursue its demoniac footsteps.
我們曾目睹為了留下惡魔般的足跡而帶來的破壞和死亡。
We look upon sacked towns, upon ravaged territories, upon violated homes;
我們凝望被洗劫一空的城鎮(zhèn),被蹂躪劫掠的疆土,還有被侵犯的家園。
we behold all the sweet charities of life changed to wormwood and gall.
我們見證了生活中所有溫馨的善舉變成苦惱和怨恨;
Our soul is penetrated by the sharp moan of mothers, sisters, and daughters:
我們的靈魂被那些母親們、姐妹們和女兒們凄厲的哀鳴深深刺痛了:
of fathers, brothers, and sons, who, in the bitterness of their bereavement, refuse to be comforted.
這是因為父親們,兄弟們和兒子們的慘死,處于喪親之痛的他們和她們拒絕別人的安慰。
Our eyes rest at last upon one of these fair fields, where Nature, in her abundance, spreads her cloth of gold,
我們的目光最終停留在那些相當(dāng)不錯的土地中一塊,在那里大自然物產(chǎn)十分豐裕,攤開她那寬敞的金色外衣,
spacious and apt for the entertainment of mighty multitudes — or, perhaps, from the curious subtlety of its position,
恰好為神氣活現(xiàn)的蕓蕓眾生帶來歡娛——也許從她所處位置的奇妙的差別來看,
like the carpet in the Arabian tale, seeming to contract so as to be covered by a few only, or to dilate so as to receive an innumerable host.
就像阿拉伯傳說中的地毯,似乎可以縮小到只能允許幾個人站在上邊,或者膨脹到可以接待難以計數(shù)的賓客。
Here, under a bright sun, such as shone at Austerlitz or Buena Vista — amidst the peaceful harmonies of nature,
這里,在明亮的太陽下面,就像奧斯特里茨或者布埃納維斯塔的驕陽一樣——在大自然安寧的和諧氛圍中,
on the Sabbath of peace — we behold bands of brothers, children of a common Father, heirs to a common happiness, struggling together in the deadly fight,
在寧靜的安息日——我們注視將屬于一個父親的兄弟們、孩子們連在一起的紐帶,他們繼承了共同的幸福,一起進行殊死的抗?fàn)帲?/p>
with the madness of fallen spirits, seeking with murderous weapons the lives of brothers who have never injured them or their kindred.
憑借對墮落精神的瘋狂,他們用殺人武器要了兄弟們的性命,而這些人從來沒有傷害他們或者他們的親屬。