全国人事部一级笔译两年真题

2015年CATTI一级笔译英译汉试题原文：Conventional business wisdom is big on perfection. We are constantly exhorted to give 100 per cent – or even a mathematically impossible 110 per cent. But is this really the absolute virtue it is held up to be? Or is there a case to be made for doing a “good enough” job most of the time?There are two well-known rules that suggest the latter is valid. The first is the Pareto Principle (or the 80-20 rule), which states that 80 per cent of consequences stem from 20 per cent of causes. The second is the law of diminishing returns, which suggests that, as you near 100 per cent, you expend proportionally more effort on the remaining work.Graham Allcott, author of How to be a Productivity Ninja, says that people often look at tasks the wrong way – they focus on the detail of what they are doing, rather than the impact it has. “It is actually far more practical to think in terms of the 80-20 rule and focus ruthlessly on doing things that have the greatest impact.”He also recommends that you delegate the mundane parts of tasks that anyone can do.However, many people find this difficult because they are wedded to the idea of delivering their very best. As business psychologist Karen Moloney says: “Perfection is how they define themselves and to let anything out of their hands that isn’t 100 per cent goes against their sense of professional pride.” She says the trick is to remember it is about delivering what the business needs, not what you want to give.People who are natural perfectionists tend to see not giving 100 per cent as a failing. But you can reframe this by telling yourself that knowing which tasks do not need 100 per cent demonstrates good judgment.Holding on to a task or project by forever adding that extra 1 per cent can sometimes be driven by a fear of being judged on the end result. It is therefore worth reminding yourself of the Steve Jo bs quote: “Real artists ship.”One way to avoid running up against the law of diminishing returns is to set yourself deadlines. But rather than set fake deadlines that you know can be moved, Mr Allcott recommends making yourself accountable to someone else. That way, you will shift from “I could deliver any time next week” to “I’ll look bad in front of my boss i f I don’t deliver by Tuesday”.Perhaps the most difficult thing to deal with, however, is not your own desire to give 100 per cent but your boss’s desire to see you give 100 per cent . Again, says Ms Moloney, you need to make it about what you deliver: “Explain to your boss you can accomplish far more if you don’t dot every I and cross every T.”However, some managers’ perfectionism is such that this appeal to reason will not wash. In this case, Mr Allcott advises a more tactical approach: “Separate tasks into the more visual, obvious things and those that are under the radar that your boss will miss.”译文：在工作中，人们通常认为，追求完美是项美德。

我们常常被鼓励做到100%完美，甚至110%完美——哪怕这在数学上是不可能的。

但追求完美真的像人们所说的那样，是绝对的美德吗？抑或，我们有理由认为，大多数时候只需要做到“足够好”？有两条著名的法则表明，后一种看法是合理的。

第一条是“帕累托法则”（又名“二八法则”），该法则称，80%的结果取决于20%的原因。

第二条是“收益递减法则”，根据该法则，工作完成得越接近完美，为完成剩余工作所需付出的努力就越大。

《如何成为高效人士》(How to be a Productivity Ninja)一书作者格雷厄姆•奥尔科特(Graham Allcott)说，人们看待工作的方式往往是错误的，他们更关注于自己做的事情，而不是这些事情会产生什么影响。

“事实上，更实用的方法是，用二八法则来思考问题、集中精力去做那些能产生最大影响的事情。

”他还建议人们将工作中那些谁都能做的部分分派下去。

然而，许多人觉得这很困难，因为交出完美成果的理念在他们的脑海中根深蒂固。

如商业心理学家卡伦•莫洛尼(Karen Moloney)所说：“完美是他们对自己的要求，让不完美的东西从自己手中出去，有损他们的职业自豪感。

”她说，诀窍在于，要记住，关键是交出符合工作需要的成果，而不是你想交出的成果。

天生的完美主义者往往认为，交出不完美的成果就等于失败。

但你可以这样想，知道哪项工作不需要做到完美，也证明了你的判断力。

在任何工作或项目中始终追求更加完美，这或许是因为担心最后的成果得到不好的评价。

因此，你应该用史蒂夫•乔布斯(Steve Jobs)的话提醒自己：“真正的艺术家是能拿出作品的艺术家。

”避免遭遇收益递减法则的方法之一，是给自己设定截止时间。

但奥尔科特认为，与其设定你知道可以推后的伪截止时间，不如把问责权交给别人。

这样一来，你就不能对自己说，“我下周什么时候完成工作都行”，而要告诉自己，“如果到周二还完不成工作，我就没脸见老板了”。

不过，或许最难对付的不是你自身追求完美的欲望，而是老板要你做到完美的欲望。

同样的，莫洛尼说，你必须强调要关注于你能拿出的成果：“对老板说，如果不要求在每一个细节上都做到尽善尽美，我完成的工作会比现在多得多。

”然而，有些经理人的完美主义过于严重，跟他们讲道理已经没用了。

在这种情况下，奥尔科特建议采取一种更巧妙的方法：“把那些比较显眼、容易引起注意的工作，跟老板注意不到的工作区分开。

”2012年CATTI一级笔译英译汉试题原文：No one can lay claim to so much influence on the shaping of foreign policy over the past 50 years as Henry Kissinger. In and out of office, he has been intelligently ubiquitous. Almost two decades have passed since the publication of Diplomacy, a masterly study of the subject that will long endure as a bible for all who believe that nation states remain the principal building blocks in international politics, whatever the human aspirations towards international co-operation.Now, with On China, Kissinger has turned his mind to a subject on which he has a unique vantage point. Publishers must have drooled at the prospect of this guru from the last century writing about the rising global power of the present one, especially given his own role in helping to open it up to the world.For Henry Kissinger, ancient China was a subtle place. That in turn led to its special resonance in the present: “In no other country,” he writes, “is it conceivable that a modern leader would initiate a major national undertaking by invoking strategic principles from a millennium-old event,” as Mao often did in discussing policy matters. And Mao “could confidently expe ct his colleagues to understand the significance of his allusions.” How could it not be so? For “Chinese language, culture, and political institutions were the hallmarks of civilization, such that even regional rivals and foreign conquerors adopted them to varying degrees as a sign of their own legitimacy.” “Strategic acumen” shaped China’s earliest international policies; and to support its central position it could call on a remarkable series of potential followers and aides.A good example was the Chinese scholar known in the West as Confucius, who taught by citing examples to a small group of loyal and dedicated students. They reciprocated by drawing on their conversations for practical examples that could create a legacy on his behalf—forming a canon that Kissinger describes as “something akin to China’s Bible and its Constitution combined.” Whereas in the Western world “balance-of-power diplomacy was less a choice than an inevitability,” and “no religion retained sufficient authority to sustain universality,” for China foreign contacts did not form “on the basis of equality.”Kissinger’s reflections about the Western and Chinese concepts of strategy lead him to posit a stark distinction, one in which “the Chinese ideal stressed subtlety, indirect ion, and the patient accumulation of relative advantage,” while “the Western tradition prized the decisive clash of forces.” It is a good way for Kissinger to prepare the reader for a dualistic approach to two vast philosophical and military traditions, which he begins by summarizing the key differences between the Chinese players of the board game weiqi (the Japanese go) and those favoring the contrasting game of chess. While chess is about the clash of forces, about “decisive battle” and the goal of “tota lvictory,” all of which depend on the full deployment of all the pieces of the board, weiqi is a game of relative gain, of long-range encirclement, which starts with an empty board and only ends when it “is filled by partially interlocking areas of strength.”Teachers and practitioners of grand strategy have studied these contrasts between the two for many centuries. The principles of weiqi are echoed in the haunting text known as The Art of War, by a certain Master Sun, writing around the same time as Confucius. Kissinger quotes Sun at some length, drawing especially on his insights into the concepts of “indirect attack” and “psychological combat.”译文：过去50年间，在外交政策的形成方面影响最大者，莫过于亨利•基辛格(Henry Kissinger)。