It seems to me so shocking to see the precious hours of a man’s life—the priceless moments that will never come back to him again—being wasted in mere brutish sleep.
看到他把生命最宝贵的时间——千金不换、一去不返的时间——浪费在猪一般的睡眠里，我感到震惊和痛心疾首！
已婚男人有了老婆不珍惜；年轻的单身汉成天抱怨娶不到老婆。自己都养不活的穷人，得要喂养8个好胃口的孩子；腰缠万贯的老夫妇却膝下无子女，死后连个继承人都没有。Married men have wives, and don’t seem to want them; and young single fellows cry out that they can’t get them. Poor people who can hardly keep themselves have eight hearty children. Rich old couples, with no one to leave their money to, die childless.
有情人的女孩们更是如此。她们根本就不稀罕情人。她们说“没有他们就好了”、“他们太烦了”或者“他们怎么不去追求史密斯小姐或布朗小姐呢？她们相貌平平，年纪也不小了，不正缺人爱么？”而她们自己不需要情人。她们永远不打算结婚。
Then there are girls with lovers. The girls that have lovers never want them. They say they would rather be without them, that they bother them, and why don’t they go and make love to Miss Smith and Miss Brown, who are plain and elderly, and haven’t got any lovers? They themselves don’t want lovers. They never mean to marry.
这种事不能多想，一想就情绪低沉。
It does not do to dwell on these things; it makes one so sad.
这就是人生：人如野草，命运如刀！我们只能等着被割下来、等着被放到烤箱里去、等着被烤。
Such is life; and we are but as grass that is cut down, and put into the oven and baked.
吃饱肚子的时候，感觉是多么棒啊——对自己满意，对世界也满意！据尝试过的人说，拥有一颗无罪的、诚实的心，能让你感到幸福满足。但是拥有一个充实的胃，功效毫不逊色，而且更便宜、更容易获得。一顿充足、易消化的大餐后，你感到无比慈悲慷慨，无比高尚善良。
How good one feels when one is full—how satisfied with ourselves and with the world! People who have tried it, tell me that a clear conscience makes you very happy and contented; but a full stomach does the business quite as well, and is cheaper, and more easily obtained. One feels so forgiving and generous after a substantial and well-digested meal—so noble-minded, so kindly-hearted.
这真是很神奇的一件事：我们的精神世界被消化器官所统治。如果胃不愿意，我们就无法工作，无法思考。它指挥着我们的情感和渴望。吃了鸡蛋和熏肉，胃说：“工作！”吃了牛排和黑啤酒，胃说：“睡觉！”喝了一杯茶（每杯两茶匙，别放着超过3分钟），胃对大脑说：“现在苏醒吧，展现你的力量——你要雄辩，你要深沉，你要细腻；用你清亮的双眼观察自然和生活；展开思想颤栗着的白色翅膀，飞到天上去吧，让神灵般高贵的思想，俯瞰脚下纷乱动荡的世界，沿着灿烂星辰铺就的漫漫天路，飞向通往永生的大门！”
It is very strange, this domination of our intellect by our digestive organs. We cannot work, we cannot think, unless our stomach wills so. It dictates to us our emotions, our passions. After eggs and bacon, it says, “Work!” After beefsteak and porter, it says, “Sleep!” After a cup of tea (two spoonsful for each cup, and don’t let it stand more than three minutes), it says to the brain, “Now, rise, and show your strength. Be eloquent, and deep, and tender; see, with a clear eye, into Nature and into life; spread your white wings of quivering thought, and soar, a god-like spirit, over the whirling world beneath you, up through long lanes of flaming stars to the gates of eternity!”
我们不过是胃的奴隶，而且是彻底的奴隶，相当可怜。亲爱的朋友，别去费力追求道德和正义了，你只需要仔细看好你的胃，仔细合理地安排好每日的饮食，那么正义感和满足感自然会来统治你的内心，不费一丝力气；你就会成为好公民、充满爱心的丈夫、温柔的父亲——总之，你会成为一位高尚虔诚的人。
We are but the veriest, sorriest slaves of our stomach. Reach not after morality and righteousness, my friends; watch vigilantly your stomach, and diet it with care and judgment. Then virtue and contentment will come and reign within your heart, unsought by any effort of your own; and you will be a good citizen, a loving husband, and a tender father—a noble, pious man.
这是一个美妙的夜晚。月亮已经西沉，只留静默的大地独对满天繁星。仿佛在万籁俱寂中，她的人类孩子们都已入睡，只有她的星辰妹妹们和她对话，谈那些高深的奥秘——声音辽远深沉，远非幼稚的人类用耳朵能够听见的。这些奇异的星辰冰冷而明亮，让我们心生敬畏。我们就像一些孩子，小脚丫无意中踏入了一座幽暗的神殿，虽然知道神殿里供奉着的神祇是必须敬拜的，却又都不认识。我们站立在响着回声的穹顶下，宏大的穹顶在迷蒙的光线中扩展开来，抬头仰望，半期待半恐惧那里会浮现出可怕的幻影。
It was a glorious night. The moon had sunk, and left the quiet earth alone with the stars. It seemed as if, in the silence and the hush, while we her children slept, they were talking with her, their sister—conversing of mighty mysteries in voices too vast and deep for childish human ears to catch the sound.
They awe us, these strange stars, so cold, so clear. We are as children whose small feet have strayed into some dim-lit temple of the god they have been taught to worship but know not; and, standing where the echoing dome spans the long vista of the shadowy light, glance up, half hoping, half afraid to see some awful vision hovering there.
然而，夜晚让人安心、给人力量。在非凡的气度面前，我们的小小悲哀无地自容。白天里有那么多的焦虑和烦恼，我们心中满是邪恶与妒嫉，世界对我们又是那么地严厉无情。而夜晚如同慈爱的母亲，温柔地将手放在我们发烧的额头上，扳起我们布满泪痕的小脸，冲着我们微笑；尽管她缄默不语，我们也知道她想要说些什么，把滚烫通红的脸颊贴在她胸前，所有疼痛便烟消云散了。 And yet it seems so full of comfort and of strength, the night. In its great presence, our small sorrows creep away, ashamed. The day has been so full of fret and care, and our hearts have been so full of evil and of bitter thoughts, and the world has seemed so hard and wrong to us. Then Night, like some great loving mother, gently lays her hand upon our fevered head, and turns our little tear-stained faces up to hers, and smiles; and, though she does not speak, we know what she would say, and lay our hot flushed cheek against her bosom, and the pain is gone.
有时候，我们的疼痛极其深沉和真实，我们站在她面前，疼得说不出话来，任何语言都无法形容我们的痛苦，张开嘴只能发出呻吟。夜神满心慈悲，但她也不能减轻我们的疼痛，她握紧我们的手，小小的世界在我们脚下变得更加渺小而遥远，我们依附在它黑色的羽翼上，暂时来到一个更加强大的神灵面前，在其奇异的光辉中，所有人的生活如同一部书摆在我们面前，我们懂得了疼痛和哀伤不过是上帝的两个小天使。
Sometimes, our pain is very deep and real, and we stand before her very silent, because there is no language for our pain, only a moan. Night’s heart is full of pity for us: she cannot ease our aching; she takes our hand in hers, and the little world grows very small and very faraway beneath us, and, borne on her dark wings, we pass for a moment into a mightier Presence than her own, and in the wondrous light of that great Presence, all human life lies like a book before us, and we know that Pain and Sorrow are but the angels of God.
只有头戴名为“磨难”的冠冕的人，才能看到那美妙的光辉。而他们返回人间后，却对它只字不提，也不会告诉别人他们所参悟的秘密。
Only those who have worn the crown of suffering can look upon that wondrous light; and they, when they return, may not speak of it, or tell the mystery they know.
就我所知，没有什么比扬帆远航更刺激的事情。它是人类目前所能达到的最接近飞行的体验（当然，在梦里飞除外）。疾风的翅膀带你前进，你不知自己身在何处。你不再是那个笨重、缓慢而弱小的泥人，痛苦地爬行在地面之上；你成为了大自然的一部分！你的心脏和大自然的心脏紧贴着一起跳动！她用光芒万丈的臂膀环绕着你，将你举起贴在她的心口！你的精神和她的精神合二为一，四肢也变得轻飘飘的！风神为你歌唱，地球被远远地抛在了脚下，看上去那么地渺小；近在咫尺的云朵是你的兄弟，你向它们伸展双臂。
There is no more thrilling sensation I know of than sailing. It comes as near to flying as man has got to yet—except in dreams. The wings of the rushing wind seem to be bearing you onward, you know not where. You are no longer the slow, plodding, puny thing of clay, creeping tortuously upon the ground; you are a part of Nature! Your heart is throbbing against hers! Her glorious arms are round you, raising you up against her heart! Your spirit is at one with hers; your limbs grow light! The voices of the air are singing to you. The earth seems far away and little; and the clouds, so close above your head, are brothers, and you stretch your arms to them.
我自己不是个钓鱼高手。我曾经对这门艺术投入相当多的精力，而且自我感觉进步得很顺利，但是老手们说我成不了气候，建议我趁早放弃。他们说我特别善于甩渔竿，而且看上去有足够的进取心，以及足够的懒散本性。但是他们斩钉截铁地说我不可能成为好的渔夫——我缺乏足够的想象力。
I am not a good fisherman myself. I devoted a considerable amount of attention to the subject at one time, and was getting on, as I thought, fairly well; but the old hands told me that I should never be any real good at it, and advised me to give it up. They said that I was an extremely neat thrower, and that I seemed to have plenty of gumption for the thing, and quite enough constitutional laziness. But they were sure I should never make anything of a fisherman. I had not got sufficient imagination.
他们说，如果作为诗人、专写耸人听闻的廉价小说的作家、记者或者从事其他类似的行业，我的想象力足够用了。但是要想成为泰晤士河上的垂钓好手，需要更多的联想能力和创新能力，而这是我所不具备的。
They said that as a poet, or a shilling shocker, or a reporter, or anything of that kind, I might be satisfactory, but that, to gain any position as a Thames angler, would require more play of fancy, more power of invention than I appeared to possess.引自 Excerpt
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