雙語(yǔ)散文翻譯：Henry David Thoreau – Autumn

行久走遠(yuǎn)，回望人生，總覺(jué)得少了些什么，也許就是少了那么一點(diǎn)盈盈書(shū)香，大家常說(shuō)最是書(shū)香能致遠(yuǎn)，大概只有走出人生才有體會(huì)吧！下面是小編整理的關(guān)于雙語(yǔ)散文翻譯：Henry David Thoreau – Autumn的資料，希望你會(huì)喜歡！

Autumn

November 8

The stillness of the woods and fields is remarkable at this season of the year. There is not even the creak of a cricket to be heard. Of myriads of dry shrub oak leaves, not one rustles. Your own breath can rustle them, yet the breath of heaven does not suffice to. The trees have the aspect of waiting for winter. The autumnal leaves have lost their color; they are now truly sere, dead, and the woods wear a somber color. Summer and harvest are over. The hickories, birches, chestnuts, no less than the maples, have lost their leaves. The sprouts, which had shot up so vigorously to repair the damage which the choppers had done, have stopped short for the winter. Everything stands silent and expectant. If I listen, I hear only the note of a chickadee…our most common and I may say native bird, most identified with our forests – or perchance the scream of a jay, or perchance from the solemn depths of these woods I hear tolling far away the knell of one departed. Thought rushes in to fill the vacuum. As you walk, however, the partridge still bursts away. The silent, dry, almost leafless, certainly fruitless woods. You wonder what cheer that bird can find in them. The partridge bursts away from the foot of a shrub oak like its own dry fruit, immortal bird! This sound still startles us. Dry goldenrods, now turned gray and white, lint our clothes as we walk. And the drooping, downy seed-vessels of the epilobium remind us of the summer. Perchance you will meet with a few solitary asters in the dry fields, with a little color left. The sumach is stripped of everything but its cone of red berries.

秋天

11月8日

一年這個(gè)季節(jié)森林和田野寂靜得出奇，甚至連蟋蟀的蛐蛐聲也聽(tīng)不到。灌木櫟樹(shù)密密麻麻缺少水分的葉子紋絲不動(dòng)。你自己的氣息都可以吹動(dòng)那葉子，而天空卻沒(méi)有一絲風(fēng)去吹動(dòng)它們。樹(shù)木露出等待冬天的神情。秋葉失去了色澤，真的枯萎了，沒(méi)有生命了。森林披上了深色的外衣。夏天過(guò)去了，收獲也結(jié)束了。山核桃、白樺、栗樹(shù)和楓樹(shù)一樣全落了葉。茁壯長(zhǎng)出的嫩芽，曾想彌補(bǔ)樵夫砍樹(shù)造成的損失，終因冬天快來(lái)而驟然停止了。萬(wàn)物悄然地期待著。我靜聽(tīng)，只能聽(tīng)到一只山雀的鳴叫……我們最常見(jiàn)的這種鳥(niǎo)，可以說(shuō)是本地的特產(chǎn)，也是我們森林最明顯的標(biāo)志——或者偶爾還能聽(tīng)到藍(lán)櫻鳥(niǎo)的尖叫聲，偶爾從森林肅穆的深處或許還會(huì)傳來(lái)遙遠(yuǎn)的喪鐘。于是思潮滾滾而來(lái)填補(bǔ)了這兒的真空。然而你走著走著，卻突然從身邊飛出一只斑鳩。周圍依然是寂靜干枯的森林，葉子差不多全落了，當(dāng)然更無(wú)果實(shí)。你會(huì)感到納悶，那只鳥(niǎo)兒在森林里怎能找到一點(diǎn)兒樂(lè)趣。那斑鳩是從一棵灌木櫟樹(shù)的樹(shù)根處飛走的，它原本就像自己的干果，真是一只不朽的鳥(niǎo)！飛走的那一聲仍然令我們?yōu)橹惑@。干枯的菊科植物呈現(xiàn)灰色和白色，飛花一路沾上我們的衣服，柳條似的草本植物毛茸茸的種子皮讓我們想起了夏天。也許你在干燥的田野里還會(huì)見(jiàn)到幾株孤單的紫苑，還保留點(diǎn)兒顏色。榛樹(shù)葉子全掉，除了紅色果球之外別無(wú)所有了。

（陳文伯 編譯）