高级英语第一册课文翻译_张汉熙版
高级英语第一册课文翻译
高级英语第一册课文翻译第一课中东的集市中东的集市仿佛把你带回到了几百年、甚至几千年前的时代。
此时此刻显现在我脑海中的这个中东集市，其入口处是一座古老的砖石结构的哥特式拱门。
你首先要穿过一个赤日耀眼、灼热逼人的大型露天广场，然后走进一个凉爽、幽暗的洞穴。
这市场一直向前延伸，一眼望不到尽头，消失在远处的阴影里。
赶集的人们络绎不绝地进出市场，一些挂着铃铛的小毛驴穿行于这熙熙攘攘的人群中，边走边发出和谐悦耳的叮当叮当的响声。
市场的路面约有十二英尺宽，但每隔几码远就会因为设在路边的小货摊的挤占而变窄；那儿出售的货物各种各样，应有尽有。
你一走进市场，就可以听到摊贩们的叫卖声，赶毛驴的小伙计和脚夫们大着嗓门叫人让道的吆喝声，还有那些想买东西的人们与摊主讨价还价的争吵声。
各种各样的噪声此伏彼起，不绝于耳，简直叫人头晕。
随后，当往市场深处走去时，人口处的喧闹声渐渐消失，眼前便是清静的布市了。
这里的泥土地面，被无数双脚板踩踏得硬邦邦的，人走在上面几乎听不到脚步声了，而拱形的泥砖屋顶和墙壁也难得产生什么回音效果。
布店的店主们一个个都是轻声轻气、慢条斯理的样子；买布的顾客们在这种沉闷压抑的气氛感染下，自然而然地也学着店主们的榜样，变得低声细语起来。
中东集市的特点之一是经销同类商品的店家，为避免相互间的竞争，不是分散在集市各处，而是都集中在一块儿，这样既便于让买主知道上哪儿找他们，同时他们自己也可以紧密地联合起来，结成同盟，以便保护自己不受欺侮和刁难。
例如，在布市上，所有那 1些卖衣料、窗帘布、椅套布等的商贩都把货摊一个接一个地排设在马路两边，每一个店铺门面前都摆有一张陈列商品的搁板桌和一些存放货物的货架。
讨价还价是人们习以为常的事。
头戴面纱的妇女们迈着悠闲的步子从一个店铺逛到另一个店铺，一边挑选一边问价；在她们缩小选择范围并开始正儿八经杀价之前，往往总要先同店主谈论几句，探探价底。
对于顾客来说，至关重要的一点是，不到最后一刻是不能让店主猜到她心里究竟中意哪样东西、想买哪样东西的。
《高级英语》第一册课文7-15翻译、词汇_张汉熙
Learn General Secretary on "two to learn a" strengthening "four Consciousnesses" important speech caused a strong reaction in the country. Time, watching "red treasure", the origin of building the party back to power, how to strengthen services for the masses, improve party cohesion, fighting to become the grass-roots party members and masses hot topic. Grass-roots party organizations "two" is to strengthen the service of party members and cadres, the pioneer spirit. Distribution of grass-roots party organizations in all walks of people, clothing, shelter, which belongs to the nerve endings of the party organization and comments reputation has a direct perception of the masses. Strengthen the party ahead of the "pedal" spirit; strengthen the party members and cadres "success does not have to be me" and "the first to bear hardships, the last to" service spirit to set the party's positive image among the people is important. Grass-roots party organizations "two" is to cleanse all people not happy not to see "stereotypes", establish the honest faithful, diligent faith for the people. No need to avoid mentioning that, some members of our party can not stand the "money," corrosion of temptation, thin, Xu Zhou, such abuse and corrupt bribery, malfeasance borers, and rats. Two, is to clean up, thin, Xu, Zhou's solution to restore the party's fresh and natural, solid and honest work style. Cleansing "take, eat, card," undesirable and behaviour, "cross, hard and cold, push" attitude. Grass-roots party organizations "two" is to strengthen the sense of ordinary party members, participating in consciousness, unity consciousness. For reasons known, members of grass-roots party branches less mobile, less resources, and the construction of party organizations have some lag. Two studies, is to focus on the grass-roots party branches "loose, soft, loose" problem, advance the party members and cadres, "a gang working", "Hong Kong report." Strong cleanup actions, style and rambling, presumptuous "unqualified" party members, pays special attention to party members and cadres "joining party of thought" problem. "Party building" is obtained in the long-term development of our party's historical experience accumulated. Two is our party under the new historical conditions, strengthen the party's construction of a new "rectification movement." Grass-roots party organizations should always catch the hard work, results-oriented. Two educational outcomes are long-term oriented and become an important impetus for the work. "Two" should have three kinds of consciousness "two" study and education, basic learning lies in the doing. Only the Constitution address the series of party rules, and do solid work, be qualified party members had a solid ideological basis. Only the "learning" and "do" real unity, to form a "learn-learn-do-do" the virtuous cycle, and ultimately achieve the fundamental objective of education. This requires that the Organization《高级英语》第一册课文翻译及词汇章美芳第七课神奇的集成电路片时代 (1)第八课互相作用的生活 (1)第九课马克•吐温——美国的一面镜子 (6)第十课震撼世界的审判 (13)第十一课词典的用途究竟何在? (21)第十二课潜水鸟 (29)第十三课大不列颠望洋兴叹 (40)第十四课阿真舍湾 (46)第十五课海上无路标 (62)learning education, need three kinds of consciousness: one is to establish an integrated awareness. "Learning" and "do" what car isTwo-wheel, bird wings, need to go hand in hand, one end can be neglected. Communist theoretician and man. Only by closely combining theory and practice together in order to truly realize their value. "Learning" is the Foundation, the Foundation is not strong, shaking; " "Is the key to net to net thousands of accounts. "Two" education, "" lay the basis, going to "do" the key grip, so that the "learning" and "doing" back to standard, so that the majority of party members "learn" learning theory of nutrients, in the "doing" practice party's purposes. Second, to establish a sense of depth. "Learning" and "do" not Chu drawn, entirely different, but the organic unity of the whole. "Two" learning education, we need to explore integrating "learning" in "do", exhibit "do" in "Science". To avoid the "learning" into simple room instruction, "do" into a monotone for doing. Should exploration "learn" in the has "do", "do" in the has "learn" of education and practice of carrier, makes general grass-roots members can in "learn" in the has "do" of achievements sense, in "do" in the has "learn" of get sense, real makes party of theory brain into heart, put for people service concept outside of Yu shaped. Third, to adhere to long-term the awareness. Style construction on the road forever, "two" had to catch the long-term. "Two" study and education, by no means, assault-style wind-sport, but the recurrent education within the party. In recent years, the party's mass line education practice and "three-three" special education in grass-roots borne rich fruits, vast numbers of party members and cadres withstood the baptism of the spirit. "Two" greater need to focus on longer hold long-term, to establish and perfect the effective mechanism of the education, focusing on the creation of long-term education, strive to make the vast number of party members to maintain their vanguard Color, maintain the party's advanced nature and purity. Awareness-raising, antennas and atmosphere – a discussion on how leading cadres of party members "two" current, "two" activity is in full swing up and down the country, party cadres as a "key minority" is both a barometer and impetus. The "two" meaning enough deep, is to determine the party cadres can resolve to study hard first. In the "two" in the process, some cadres of himself, standing long, high awareness, that Constitution Party rules is simple, its not worth bothering some party cadres think speak series has nothing to do with the grass-roots work, water business learning series of speeches seen as window dressing. These "lazy, casual, and decadent" ideas learning lacks motivation, a serious impediment to "two" effect. John Stuart Mill once said, only a basic element of human thought patterns change dramatically, human destiny can make great improvement. The same, only party members and第七课神奇的集成电路片时代(节选)新生的微型技术将使社会发生巨变1这是一个极小的薄片，只有大约四分之一英寸见方。
《高级英语》第一册课文7-15翻译、词汇_张汉熙
《高级英语》第一册课文翻译及词汇章美芳第七课神奇的集成电路片时代 (1)第八课互相作用的生活 (1)第九课马克•吐温——美国的一面镜子 (11)第十课震撼世界的审判 (18)第十一课词典的用途究竟何在? (26)第十二课潜水鸟 (33)第十三课大不列颠望洋兴叹 (45)第十四课阿真舍湾 (51)第十五课海上无路标 (66)第七课神奇的集成电路片时代(节选)新生的微型技术将使社会发生巨变1这是一个极小的薄片，只有大约四分之一英寸见方。
在显微镜下看起来，它就像一幅繁花似锦的那伐鹤地毯，或是一幅铁路调车场的鸟瞰图。
像海滩上的沙粒一样，它的主要成分是硅——地球表面除氧之外蕴含量最为丰富的元素。
2然而，这种惰性小薄片——大多数美国人尚不熟悉——却具有惊人的本领，正在使我们的社会发生着巨变。
这种被称为神奇的集成电路片的东西有着与二十五年前制造出的足有一间房子大的老式计算机相同的计算能力。
那种老式计算机内有许许多多的真空电子管和乱麻似的导线，又大又笨，形似怪物。
集成电路片是由老式计算机衍化而来的，所不同的是它造价低廉，易于批量生产，计算速度快，功能繁多，使用方便。
3神奇的集成电路片代表了人类科技的新发展。
近几年来，这项技术的发展势头之迅猛和意义之深远足可与人类历史上生产工具的出现和蒸汽机的发明相提并论。
正如工业革命替人类承担了大量繁重的体力劳动，并极大地发展了生产力一样，微型计算机正迅速地替人类承担起大量繁重的脑力劳动，并以人们现在才开始掌握的各种方式扩大了人脑的功能。
有了集成电路片，计算机存储信息和执行指令的惊人本领就在以汽车发动机到大学和医院，从农场到银行和公司办公室，从外层空间到托儿所等各个领域发挥作用。
日常生活：按钮的神通4早晨七点半钟，闹钟铃声一响，卧室的窗帘轻轻地自动往两边分开，百叶遮阳帘啪地一声向上卷起，恒温器将室温上调到令人惬意的华氏七十度。
厨房里的咖啡壶开始咕咕作响；后门自动打开放狗子出去。
大学高级英语第一册张汉熙版第四课原文加翻译EverydayUseforyourgrandmama
Everyday Use for your grandmamaAlice WalkerI will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wavy yester day afternoon. A yard like this is more comfortable than most people know. It is not just a yard. It is like an extended living room. When the hard clay is swept clean as a floor and the fine sand around the edges lined with tiny, irregular grooves, anyone can come and sit and look up into the elm tree and wait for the breezes that never come inside the house.Maggie will be nervous until after her sister goes: she will stand hopelessly in corners, homely and ashamed of the burn scars down her arms and legs, eying her sister with a mixture of envy and awe. She thinks her sister has held life always in the palm of one hand, that "no" is a word the world never learned to say to her.You've no doubt seen those TV shows where the child who has "made it" is confronted, as a surprise, by her own mother and father, tottering in weakly from backstage. (A Pleasant surprise, of course: What would they do if parent and child came on the show only to curse out and insult each other?) On TV mother and child embrace and smile into each other's face. Sometimes the mother and father weep, the child wraps them in her arms and leans across the table to tell how she would not have made it without their help. I have seen these programs.Sometimes I dream a dream in which Dee and I are suddenly brought together on a TV program of this sort. Out of a cark and soft-seated limousine I am ushered into a bright room filled with many people. There I meet a smiling, gray, sporty man like Johnny Carson who shakes my hand and tells me what a fine girl I have. Then we are on the stage and Dee is embracing me with tear s in her eyes. She pins on my dress a large orchid, even though she has told me once that she thinks or chides are tacky flowers.In real life I am a large, big-boned woman with rough, man-working hands. In the winter I wear flannel nightgowns to bed and overalls during the day. I can killand clean a hog as mercilessly as a man. My fat keeps me hot in zero weather. I can work outside all day, breaking ice to get water for washing; I can eat pork liver cooked over the open tire minutes after it comes steaming from the hog. One winter I knocked a bull calf straight in the brain between the eyes with a sledge hammer and had the meat hung up to chill be-fore nightfall. But of course all this does not show on television. I am the way my daughter would want me to be: a hundred pounds lighter, my skin like an uncooked barley pan-cake. My hair glistens in the hot bright lights. Johnny Car – son has much to do to keep up with my quick and witty tongue.But that is a mistake. I know even before I wake up. Who ever knew a Johnson with a quick tongue? Who can even imagine me looking a strange white man in the eye? It seems to me I have talked to them always with one toot raised in flight, with my head turned in whichever way is farthest from them. Dee, though. She would always look anyone in the eye. Hesitation was no part of her nature."How do I look, Mama?" Maggie says, showing just enough of her thin body enveloped in pink skirt and red blouse for me to know she's there, almost hidden by the door."Come out into the yard," I say.Have you ever seen a lame animal, perhaps a dog run over by some careless person rich enough to own a car, sidle up to someone who is ignorant enough to be kind of him? That is the way my Maggie walks. She has been like this, chin on chest, eyes on ground, feet in shuffle, ever since the fire that burned the other house to the ground.Dee is lighter than Maggie, with nicer hair and a fuller figure. She's a woman now, though sometimes I forget. How long ago was it that the other house burned? Ten, twelve years? Sometimes I can still hear the flames and feel Maggie's arms sticking to me, her hair smoking and her dress falling off her in little black papery flakes. Her eyes seemed stretched open, blazed open by the flames reflect-ed in them. And Dee. I see her standing off under the sweet gum tree she used to dig gum out of; a look at concentration on her face as she watched the last dingy gray board of the house tall in toward the red-hot brick chimney. Why don't you do a dance around the ashes? I'd wanted to ask her. She had hated the house that much.I used to think she hated Maggie, too. But that was before we raised the money, the church and me, to send her to Augusta to school. She used to read to us without pity, forcing words, lies, other folks' habits, whole lives upon us two, sitting trapped and ignorant underneath her voice. She washed us in a river of make-believe, burned us with a lot of knowledge we didn't necessarily need to know. Pressed us to her with the serious way she read, to shove us away at just the moment, like dimwits, we seemed about to understand.Dee wanted nice things. A yellow organdy dress to wear to her graduation from high school; black pumps to match a green suit she'd made from an old suit somebody gave me. She was determined to stare down any disaster in her efforts. Her eyelids would not flicker for minutes at a time. Often I fought off the temptation to shake her. At sixteen she had a style of her own' and knew what style was.I never had an education myself. After second grade the school was closed down. Don't ask me why. in 1927 colored asked fewer questions than they do now. Sometimes Maggie reads to me. She stumbles along good-naturedly but can't see well. She knows she is not bright. Like good looks and money, quickness passed her by. She will marry John Thomas (who has mossy teeth in an earnest face) and then I'll be free to sit here and I guess just sing church songs to myself. Although I never was a good singer. Never could carry a tune. I was always better at a man's job. 1 used to love to milk till I was hooked in the side in '49. Cows are soothing and slow and don't bother you, unless you try to milk them the wrong way.I have deliberately turned my back on the house. It is three rooms, just like the one that burned, except the roof is tin: they don't make shingle roofs any more. There are no real windows, just some holes cut in the sides, like the portholes in a ship, but not round and not square, with rawhide holding the shutter s up on the outside. This house is in a pasture, too, like the other one. No doubt when Dee sees it she will want to tear it down. She wrote me once that no matter where we "choose" to live, she will manage to come see us. But she will never bring her friends. Maggie and I thought about this and Maggie asked me, Mama, when did Dee ever have anyfriends?"She had a few. Furtive boys in pink shirts hanging about on washday after school. Nervous girls who never laughed. Impressed with her they worshiped the well-turned phrase, the cute shape, the scalding humor that erupted like bubbles in lye. She read to them.When she was courting Jimmy T she didn't have much time to pay to us, but turned all her faultfinding power on him. He flew to marry a cheap city girl from a family of ignorant flashy people. She hardly had time to recompose herself.When she comes I will meet -- but there they are!Maggie attempts to make a dash for the house, in her shuffling way, but I stay her with my hand. "Come back here," I say. And she stops and tries to dig a well in the sand with her toe.It is hard to see them clearly through the strong sun. But even the first glimpse of leg out of the car tells me it is Dee. Her feet were always neat-looking, as it God himself had shaped them with a certain style. From the other side of the car comes a short, stocky man. Hair is all over his head a foot long and hanging from his chin like a kinky mule tail. I hear Maggie suck in her breath. "Uhnnnh," is what it sounds like. Like when you see the wriggling end of a snake just in front of your toot on the road. "Uhnnnh."Dee next. A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather. A dress so loud it hurts my eyes. There are yel-lows and oranges enough to throw back the light of the sun. I feel my whole face warming from the heat waves it throws out. Earrings gold, too, and hanging down to her shoulders. Bracelets dangling and making noises when she moves her arm up to shake the folds of the dress out of her armpits. The dress is loose and flows, and as she walks closer, I like it. I hear Maggie go "Uhnnnh" again. It is her sister's hair. It stands straight up like the wool on a sheep. It is black as night and around the edges are two long pigtails that rope about like small lizards disappearing behind her ears."Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!" she says, coming on in that gliding way the dress makes hermove. The short stocky fellow with the hair to his navel is all grinning and he follows up with "Asalamalakim, my mother and sister!" He moves to hug Maggie but she falls back, right up against the back of my chair. I feel her trembling there and when I look up I see the perspiration falling off her chin."Don't get up," says Dee. Since I am stout it takes something of a push. You can see me trying to move a second or two before I make it. She turns, showing white heels through her sandals, and goes back to the car. Out she peeks next with a Polaroid. She stoops down quickly and lines up picture after picture of me sitting there in front of the house with Maggie cowering behind me. She never takes a shot without making sure the house is included. When a cow comes nibbling around the edge of the yard she snaps it and me and Maggie and the house. Then she puts the Polaroid in the back seat of the car, and comes up and kisses me on the forehead.Meanwhile Asalamalakim is going through motions with Maggie's hand. Maggie's hand is as limp as a fish, and probably as cold, despite the sweat, and she keeps trying to pull it back. It looks like Asalamalakim wants to shake hands but wants to do it fancy. Or maybe he don't know how people shake hands. Anyhow, he soon gives up on Maggie."Well," I say. "Dee.""No, Mama," she says. "Not 'Dee', Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo!""What happened to 'Dee'?" I wanted to know."She's dead," Wangero said. "I couldn't bear it any longer, being named after the people who oppress me.""You know as well as me you was named after your aunt Dicle," I said. Dicie is my sister. She named Dee. We called her "Big Dee" after Dee was born."But who was she named after?" asked Wangero."I guess after Grandma Dee," I said."And who was she named after?" asked Wangero."Her mother," I said, and saw Wangero was getting tired. "That's about as far back as I can trace it," I said.Though, in fact, I probably could have carried it back beyond the Civil Warthrough the branches."Well," said Asalamalakim, "there you are.""Uhnnnh," I heard Maggie say."There I was not," I said, before 'Dicie' cropped up in our family, so why should I try to trace it that far back?"He just stood there grinning, looking down on me like somebody inspecting a Model A car. Every once in a while he and Wangero sent eye signals over my head."How do you pronounce this name?" I asked."You don't have to call me by it if you don't want to," said Wangero."Why shouldn't I?" I asked. "If that's what you want us to call you, we'll call you. ""I know it might sound awkward at first," said Wangero."I'll get used to it," I said. "Ream it out again."Well, soon we got the name out of the way. Asalamalakim had a name twice as long and three times as hard. After I tripped over it two or three times he told me to just call him Hakim-a-barber. I wanted to ask him was he a barber, but I didn't really think he was, so I don't ask."You must belong to those beet-cattle peoples down the road," I said. They said "Asalamalakirn" when they met you too, but they didn't Shake hands. Always too busy feeding the cattle, fixing the fences, putting up salt-lick shelters, throwing down hay. When the white folks poisoned some of the herd the men stayed up all night with rifles in their hands. I walked a mile and a half just to see the sight.Hakim-a-barber said, "I accept some of their doctrines, but farming and raising cattle is not my style." (They didn't tell me, and I didn't ask, whether Wangero (Dee) had really gone and married him.)We sat down to eat and right away he said he didn't eat collards and pork was unclean. Wangero, though, went on through the chitlins and corn bread, the greens and every-thing else. She talked a blue streak over the sweet potatoes. Everything delighted her. Even the fact that we still used the benches her daddy made for the table when we couldn't afford to buy chairs."Oh, Mama!" she cried. Then turned to Hakim-a-barber. "I never knew how lovely these benches are. You can feel the rump prints," she said, running her hands underneath her and along the bench. Then she gave a sigh and her hand closed over Grandma Dee's butter dish. "That's it!" she said. "I knew there was something I wanted to ask you if I could have." She jumped up from the table and went over in the corner where the churn stood, the milk in it clabber by now. She looked at the churn and looked at it."This churn top is what I need," she said. "Didn't Uncle Buddy whittle it out of a tree you all used to have?""Yes," I said."Uh huh, " she said happily. "And I want the dasher,too.""Uncle Buddy whittle that, too?" asked the barber.Dee (Wangero) looked up at me."Aunt Dee's first husband whittled the dash," said Maggie so low you almost couldn't hear her. "His name was Henry, but they called him Stash.""Maggie's brain is like an elephants," Wanglero said, laughing. "I can use the churn top as a center piece for the alcove table,”she said, sliding a plate over the churn, "and I'll think of something artistic to do with the dasher."When she finished wrapping the dasher the handle stuck out. I took it for a moment in my hands. You didn't even have to look close to see where hands pushing the dasher up and down to make butter had left a kind of sink in the wood. In fact, there were a lot of small sinks; you could see where thumbs and fingers had sunk into the wood. It was beautiful light yellow wood, from a tree that grew in the yard where Big Dee and Stash had lived.After dinner Dee (Wangero) went to the trunk at the foot of my bed and started rifling through it. Maggie hung back in the kitchen over the dishpan. Out came Wangero with two quilts. They had been pieced by Grandma Dee and then Big Dee and me had hung them on the quilt frames on the front porch and quilted them. One was in the Lone Star pattern. The other was Walk Around the Mountain. In both of them were scraps of dresses Grandma Dee had worn fifty and more years ago. Bit sand pieces of GrandpaJarrell's Paisley shirts. And one teeny faded blue piece, about the size of a penny matchbox, that was from Great Grandpa Ezra's uniform that he wore in the Civil War."Mama," Wangero said sweet as a bird. "Can I have these old quilts?"I heard something fall in the kitchen, and a minute later the kitchen door slammed."Why don't you take one or two of the others?” 1 asked. "These old things was just done by me and Big Dee from some tops your grandma pieced before she died.""No," said Wangero. "I don't want those. They are stitched around the borders by machine.""That'll make them last better," I said."That's not the point," said Wanglero. "These are all pieces of dresses Grandma used to wear. She did all this stitching by hand. Imagine!" She held the quilts securely in her arms, stroking them."Some of the pieces, like those lavender ones, come from old clothes her mother handed down to her,” I said, moving up to touch the quilts. Dee (Wangero) moved back just enough so that I couldn't reach the quilts. They already belonged to her. "Imagine!" she breathed again, clutching them closely to her bosom."The truth is," I said, "I promised to give them quilts to Maggie, for when she marries John Thomas."She gasped like a bee had stung her."Maggie can't appreciate these quilts!" she said. "She'd probably be backward enough to put them to everyday use.""I reckon she would," I said. "God knows I been savage ’em for long enough with nobody using 'em. I hope she will! ” I didn't want to bring up how I had offered Dee (Wangero) a quilt when she went away to college. Then she had told me they were old-fashioned, out of style."But they're priceless!" she was saying now, furiously, for she has a temper. "Maggie would put them on the bed and in five years they'd be in rags. Less than that!" "She can always make some more,” I said. "Maggie knows how to quilt. "Dee (Wangero) looked at me with hatred. "You just will not understand. The point is these quilts, these quilts!""Well," I said,, stumped. "What would you do with them?""Hang them," she said. As it that was the only thing you could do with quilts.Maggie by now was standing in the door. I could almost hear the sound her feet made as they scraped over each other."She can have them, Mama,” she said like somebody used to neve r winning anything, or having anything reserved for her. "I can 'member Grandma Dee without the quilts."I looked at her hard. She had filled her bottom lip with checkerberry snuff and it gave her face a kind of dopey, hangdog look. It was Grandma Dee and Big Dee who taught her how to quilt herself. She stood there with her scarred hands hidden in the folds of her skirt. She looked at her sister with something like fear but she wasn't mad at her. This was Maggie's portion. This was the way she knew God to work.When I looked at her like that something hit me in the top of my head and ran down to the soles of my feet. Just like when I'm in church and the spirit of God touches me and I get happy and shout. I did something I never had done before: hugged Maggie to me, then dragged her on into the room, snatched the quilts out of Miss Wangero's hands and dumped them into Maggie's lap. Maggie just sat there on my bed with her mouth open."Take one or two of the others," I said to Dee.But she turned without a word and went out to Hakim-a-barber."You just don't understand," she said, as Maggie and I came out to the car."What don't I under stand?" I wanted to know."Your heritage," she said. And then she turned to Maggie, kissed her, and said, "You ought to try to make some-thing of yourself, too, Maggie. It's really a new day for us. But from the way you and Mama still live you'd never know it."She put on some sunglasses that hid everything above the tip of her nose and her chin.Maggie smiled; maybe at the sunglasses. But a real mile, not scared. After we watched the car dust settle I asked Maggie to bring me a dip of snuff. And then the two of us sat there just enjoying, until it was time to go in the house and go to bed.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------NOTES1) Alice Walker: born 1944 in Eatonton, Georgia, America and graduated from Sarah Lawrence College. Her books include The Third Life of Grange Copeland ( 1970 ), Meridian ( 1976 ), The Color Purple(1982), etc.2)"made it": to become a success, to succeed, either in specific endeavor or in general3) Johnny Carson: a man who runs a late night talk show4)hooked: injured by the horn of the cow being milked5) Jimmy T: 'T' is the initial of the surname of the boy Dee was courting.6)"Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!": phonetic rendering of an African dialect salutation7) "Asalamalakim": phonetic rendering of a Muslim greeting8) Polaroid: a camera that produces instant pictures9) the Civil War: the war between the North and the South in the U. S.(1861-1865)10) branches: branches or divisions of a family descending from a common ancestor11) Ream it out again: "Ream" is perhaps an African dialect word meaning: "unfold, display". Hence the phrase may mean "repeat" or "say it once again"12) pork was unclean: Muslims are forbidden by their religion to eat pork because it is considered to be unclean.13) Chitlins: also chitlings or chitterlings, the small intestines of pigs, used for food, a common dish in Afro-American households14) rump prints: depressions in the benches made by constant sitting15) sink: depressions in the wood of the handle left by the thumbs and fingers第四课外婆的日用家当艾丽斯•沃克尔“我会慢慢习惯的，”我说，“你给我再念一遍吧。
高级英语第一册课文翻译_unit1
高级英语第一册课文翻译_unit1中东的集市1．中东的集市仿佛把你带回到了几百年、甚至几千年前的时代。
此时此刻显现在我脑海中的这个中东集市，入口处是一座哥特式拱门，门上的砖石年代久远。
穿过耀眼、灼热的大型露天广场进入集市，仿佛走入了一个凉爽、幽暗的洞穴。
集市蜿蜒伸展，一眼望不到尽头，最后消失在远处的阴影里。
赶集的人们络绎不绝地进出市场，挂着铃铛的小毛驴穿行于熙熙攘攘的人群中，边走边发出和谐悦耳的叮当声。
集市的路面约有十二英尺宽，但每隔几码远就会因为设在路边的小货摊的挤占而变窄；那儿出售的货物各种各样，应有尽有。
你一走进市场，就可以听到摊贩们的叫卖声，赶毛驴的小伙计和脚夫们大着嗓门叫人让道的吆喝声，还有那些想买东西的人们与摊主讨价还价的争吵声。
各种各样的噪声此伏彼起，不绝于耳，简直叫人头晕。
2.随后，当你走人集市的深处，人口处的喧闹声渐渐消失，眼前便是清静的布市了。
这里的泥土地面，被无数双脚板踩踏得硬邦邦的，人走在上面几乎听不到脚步声了，而拱形的泥砖屋顶和墙壁也难得产生什么回音效果。
布店的店主们一个个都是轻声细语、慢条斯理的样子；买布的顾客们在这种沉闷压抑的气氛感染下，自然而然地也学着店主们的样子，低声细语地说话。
3.中东集市的特点之一是经销同类商品的店家，不是分散在集市各处以避免相互间的竞争，而是都集中在一块儿，这样既便于让买主知道上哪儿找他们，同时他们自己也可以紧密地联合起来，结成同盟，以便共同反对迫害和不公正待遇。
例如，在布市上，所有卖衣料、窗帘布、椅套布等的商贩都把货摊一个接一个地排设在马路两边，每一个店铺门面前都摆有一张陈列商品的搁板桌和一些存放货物的货架。
讨价还价是人们习以为常的事。
头戴面纱的妇女们迈着悠闲的步子从一个店铺逛到另一个店铺，一边挑选一边问价；在她们缩小选择范围并开始正儿八经杀价之前，往往总要先同店主谈论几句，探探价底。
4.对于顾客来说，不到最后一刻绝不能让店主猜到她心里究竟中意哪样东西、想买哪样东西，因为这是个关乎面子的事情。
张汉熙《高级英语(1)》(第3版重排版)学习指南【词汇短语+课文精解+全文翻译+练习答案】(1-5章
Lesson1Face to Face with Hurricane Camille一、词汇短语1.hurricane[]n.a severe tropical cyclone usually with heavy rainsand winds moving a73-136knots飓风sh[]vt.strike against with force or violence猛烈打击：The sleet is lashingthe roof.雨夹雪击打着屋顶。
3.pummel[]v.（用拳头连续）击打：The child pummeled his motherangrily as she carried him home.那孩子因其母带他回家而生气地捶打着母亲。
4.reluctant[]adj.unwilling;disinclined不愿意的，勉强的：Hewas very reluctant to go away.他很不愿意离去。
其名词形式为reluctance。
5.abandon[]vt.a).leave someone who needs or counts on you;leave in the lurch放弃，抛弃：abandon a friend in trouble抛弃处于危难中的朋友；b).to give up by leaving or ceasing to operate or inhabit,especially as a result of danger or other impending threat离弃，丢弃：abandon the ship弃船6.course[]n.a mode of action or behavior品行，行为7.demolish[]vt.to do away with completely;put an end to毁坏，破坏：The fire demolished the town.大火烧毁了这座城镇。
高级英语第一册课文翻译_张汉熙版[整理版]
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高级英语第一册课文翻译第一课中东的集市中东的集市仿佛把你带回到了几百年、甚至几千年前的时代。
此时此刻显现在我脑海中的这个中东集市，其入口处是一座古老的砖石结构的哥特式拱门。
你首先要穿过一个赤日耀眼、灼热逼人的大型露天广场，然后走进一个凉爽、幽暗的洞穴。
这市场一直向前延伸，一眼望不到尽头，消失在远处的阴影里。
赶集的人们络绎不绝地进出市场，一些挂着铃铛的小毛驴穿行于这熙熙攘攘的人群中，边走边发出和谐悦耳的叮当叮当的响声。
市场的路面约有十二英尺宽，但每隔几码远就会因为设在路边的小货摊的挤占而变窄；那儿出售的货物各种各样，应有尽有。
你一走进市场，就可以听到摊贩们的叫卖声，赶毛驴的小伙计和脚夫们大着嗓门叫人让道的吆喝声，还有那些想买东西的人们与摊主讨价还价的争吵声。
各种各样的噪声此伏彼起，不绝于耳，简直叫人头晕。
随后，当往市场深处走去时，人口处的喧闹声渐渐消失，眼前便是清静的布市了。
这里的泥土地面，被无数双脚板踩踏得硬邦邦的，人走在上面几乎听不到脚步声了，而拱形的泥砖屋顶和墙壁也难得产生什么回音效果。
布店的店主们一个个都是轻声轻气、慢条斯理的样子；买布的顾客们在这种沉闷压抑的气氛感染下，自然而然地也学着店主们的榜样，变得低声细语起来。
中东集市的特点之一是经销同类商品的店家，为避免相互间的竞争，不是分散在集市各处，而是都集中在一块儿，这样既便于让买主知道上哪儿找他们，同时他们自己也可以紧密地联合起来，结成同盟，以便保护自己不受欺侮和刁难。
例如，在布市上，所有那 1些卖衣料、窗帘布、椅套布等的商贩都把货摊一个接一个地排设在马路两边，每一个店铺门面前都摆有一张陈列商品的搁板桌和一些存放货物的货架。
讨价还价是人们习以为常的事。
头戴面纱的妇女们迈着悠闲的步子从一个店铺逛到另一个店铺，一边挑选一边问价；在她们缩小选择范围并开始正儿八经杀价之前，往往总要先同店主谈论几句，探探价底。
对于顾客来说，至关重要的一点是，不到最后一刻是不能让店主猜到她心里究竟中意哪样东西、想买哪样东西的。
高级英语课文翻译及词汇(张汉熙版)高级英语第一册
“那恐怕不容易吧?”“是不容易，夫人。
邻近各州——得克萨斯、阿肯色、密西西比、亚拉巴马以及其余各州都会密切注意搜寻一辆损坏得像你们那辆一样的汽车。
”公爵夫人沉思起来。
“有没有可能先修理一下呢?如果能把车子悄悄修理一下，我们会出大价钱。
”探长使劲摇着头。
“那样的话，还不如现在就去警察局投案自首。
路易斯安那州境内的每一家修车铺都已接到通知，一旦发现像你们那样需要修理的汽车送来修理，立即向警方报告。
他们也都会照办的，你们的事谁都知道。
”“你说警方拿到了我们车上掉下来的一件东西，它叫什么来着？”“框圈。
”“它会成为追查的线索吗?”欧吉维肯定地点了点头。
“他们能查出它是从什么样的汽车上掉下来的——生产厂家，车型，也许还能查出出厂年份，或者是大致的出厂时间。
那车灯玻璃碎片也可以起到同样作用。
但由于你们的车子是外国的，查起来可能得花几天的工夫。
”“几天过后，”她追问道，“警方就会知道他们要找的是一辆美洲虎吗?”“我想是这样。
”今天是星期二。
从这家伙所讲的情况看来，他们最多只能拖到星期五或星期六。
公爵夫人冷静地盘算了一番：现在需要解决的是一个关键的问题。
假使买通了这个旅馆侦探，他们唯一的一个机会——一个渺茫的机会——就在于迅速将汽车弄走。
若能弄到北方某个大城市里去，那儿人们不知道新奥尔良发生的这起车祸和警方的搜查行动，车子可以在那里悄悄修好，这样罪证也就消灭了。
那么，即使以后再怀疑到克罗伊敦夫妇头上，也找不到什么真凭实据。
但车子如何才能弄走呢?毫无疑问，这个粗俗愚笨的侦探说的是真话：要想把车子开到北方，沿途所要经过的各州都会像路易斯安那州一样警惕和注意的，所有的公路巡警都会留心注意一辆前灯撞破、框圈掉落的车子，也许还会设有路障。
要想不被某个目光锐利的警察抓到，谈何容易。
但这还是有可能做得到的，只要能够趁着黑夜行车，而白天里将汽车隐藏起来。
有许多偏僻地方远离公路，不会受人注意。
这样做可能要冒风险，但总比在这里坐等受擒要强些。
大学高级英语第一册张汉熙版第四课原文加翻译Everyday Use for your grandmama
Everyday Use for your grandmamaAlice WalkerI will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wavy yester day afternoon. A yard like this is more comfortable than most people know. It is not just a yard. It is like an extended living room. When the hard clay is swept clean as a floor and the fine sand around the edges lined with tiny, irregular grooves, anyone can come and sit and look up into the elm tree and wait for the breezes that never come inside the house.Maggie will be nervous until after her sister goes: she will stand hopelessly in corners, homely and ashamed of the burn scars down her arms and legs, eying her sister with a mixture of envy and awe. She thinks her sister has held life always in the palm of one hand, that "no" is a word the world never learned to say to her.You've no doubt seen those TV shows where the child who has "made it" is confronted, as a surprise, by her own mother and father, tottering in weakly from backstage. (A Pleasant surprise, of course: What would they do if parent and child came on the show only to curse out and insult each other?) On TV mother and child embrace and smile into each other's face. Sometimes the mother and father weep, the child wraps them in her arms and leans across the table to tell how she would not have made it without their help. I have seen these programs.Sometimes I dream a dream in which Dee and I are suddenly brought together on a TV program of this sort. Out of a cark and soft-seated limousine I am ushered into a bright room filled with many people. There I meet a smiling, gray, sporty man like Johnny Carson who shakes my hand and tells me what a fine girl I have. Then we are on the stage and Dee is embracing me with tear s in her eyes. She pins on my dress a large orchid, even though she has told me once that she thinks or chides are tacky flowers.In real life I am a large, big-boned woman with rough, man-working hands. In the winter I wear flannel nightgowns to bed and overalls during the day. I can kill and clean a hog as mercilessly as a man. My fat keeps me hot in zero weather. I can work outside all day, breaking ice to get water for washing; I can eat pork liver cooked over the open tire minutes after it comes steaming from the hog. One winter I knocked a bull calf straight in the brain between the eyeswith a sledge hammer and had the meat hung up to chill be-fore nightfall. But of course all this does not show on television. I am the way my daughter would want me to be: a hundred pounds lighter, my skin like an uncooked barley pan-cake. My hair glistens in the hot bright lights. Johnny Car – son has much to do to keep up with my quick and witty tongue.But that is a mistake. I know even before I wake up. Who ever knew a Johnson with a quick tongue? Who can even imagine me looking a strange white man in the eye? It seems to me I have talked to them always with one toot raised in flight, with my head turned in whichever way is farthest from them. Dee, though. She would always look anyone in the eye. Hesitation was no part of her nature."How do I look, Mama?" Maggie says, showing just enough of her thin body enveloped in pink skirt and red blouse for me to know she's there, almost hidden by the door."Come out into the yard," I say.Have you ever seen a lame animal, perhaps a dog run over by some careless person rich enough to own a car, sidle up to someone who is ignorant enough to be kind of him? That is the way my Maggie walks. She has been like this, chin on chest, eyes on ground, feet in shuffle, ever since the fire that burned the other house to the ground.Dee is lighter than Maggie, with nicer hair and a fuller figure. She's a woman now, though sometimes I forget. How long ago was it that the other house burned? Ten, twelve years? Sometimes I can still hear the flames and feel Maggie's arms sticking to me, her hair smoking and her dress falling off her in little black papery flakes. Her eyes seemed stretched open, blazed open by the flames reflect-ed in them. And Dee. I see her standing off under the sweet gum tree she used to dig gum out of; a look at concentration on her face as she watched the last dingy gray board of the house tall in toward the red-hot brick chimney. Why don't you do a dance around the ashes? I'd wanted to ask her. She had hated the house that much.I used to think she hated Maggie, too. But that was before we raised the money, the church and me, to send her to Augusta to school. She used to read to us without pity, forcing words, lies, other folks' habits, whole lives upon us two, sitting trapped and ignorant underneath her voice. She washed us in a river of make-believe, burned us with a lot of knowledge we didn't necessarily need to know. Pressed us to her with the serious way she read, to shove us away at just the moment, like dimwits, we seemed about to understand.Dee wanted nice things. A yellow organdy dress to wear to her graduation from high school; black pumps to match a green suit she'd made from an old suit somebody gave me. She was determined to stare down any disaster in her efforts. Her eyelids would not flicker for minutes at a time. Often I fought off the temptation to shake her. At sixteen she had a style of her own' and knew what style was.I never had an education myself. After second grade the school was closed down. Don't ask me why. in 1927 colored asked fewer questions than they do now. Sometimes Maggie reads to me. She stumbles along good-naturedly but can't see well. She knows she is not bright. Like good looks and money, quickness passed her by. She will marry John Thomas (who has mossy teeth in an earnest face) and then I'll be free to sit here and I guess just sing church songs to myself. Although I never was a good singer. Never could carry a tune. I was always better at a man's job.1 used to love to milk till I was hooked in the side in '49. Cows are soothing and slow and don't bother you, unless you try to milk them the wrong way.I have deliberately turned my back on the house. It is three rooms, just like the one that burned, except the roof is tin: they don't make shingle roofs any more. There are no real windows, just some holes cut in the sides, like the portholes in a ship, but not round and not square, with rawhide holding the shutter s up on the outside. This house is in a pasture, too, like the other one. No doubt when Dee sees it she will want to tear it down. She wrote me once that no matter where we "choose" to live, she will manage to come see us. But she will never bring her friends. Maggie and I thought about this and Maggie asked me, Mama, when did Dee ever have any friends?"She had a few. Furtive boys in pink shirts hanging about on washday after school. Nervous girls who never laughed. Impressed with her they worshiped the well-turned phrase, the cute shape, the scalding humor that erupted like bubbles in lye. She read to them.When she was courting Jimmy T she didn't have much time to pay to us, but turned all her faultfinding power on him. He flew to marry a cheap city girl from a family of ignorant flashy people. She hardly had time to recompose herself.When she comes I will meet -- but there they are!Maggie attempts to make a dash for the house, in her shuffling way, but I stay her with my hand."Come back here," I say. And she stops and tries to dig a well in the sand with her toe.It is hard to see them clearly through the strong sun. But even the first glimpse of leg out of the car tells me it is Dee. Her feet were always neat-looking, as it God himself had shaped them with a certain style. From the other side of the car comes a short, stocky man. Hair is all over his head a foot long and hanging from his chin like a kinky mule tail. I hear Maggie suck in her breath. "Uhnnnh," is what it sounds like. Like when you see the wriggling end of a snake just in front of your toot on the road. "Uhnnnh."Dee next. A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather. A dress so loud it hurts my eyes. There are yel-lows and oranges enough to throw back the light of the sun. I feel my whole face warming from the heat waves it throws out. Earrings gold, too, and hanging down to her shoulders. Bracelets dangling and making noises when she moves her arm up to shake the folds of the dress out of her armpits. The dress is loose and flows, and as she walks closer, I like it. I hear Maggie go "Uhnnnh" again. It is her sister's hair. It stands straight up like the wool on a sheep. It is black as night and around the edges are two long pigtails that rope about like small lizards disappearing behind her ears."Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!" she says, coming on in that gliding way the dress makes her move. The short stocky fellow with the hair to his navel is all grinning and he follows up with "Asalamalakim, my mother and sister!" He moves to hug Maggie but she falls back, right up against the back of my chair. I feel her trembling there and when I look up I see the perspiration falling off her chin."Don't get up," says Dee. Since I am stout it takes something of a push. You can see me trying to move a second or two before I make it. She turns, showing white heels through her sandals, and goes back to the car. Out she peeks next with a Polaroid. She stoops down quickly and lines up picture after picture of me sitting there in front of the house with Maggie cowering behind me. She never takes a shot without making sure the house is included. When a cow comes nibbling around the edge of the yard she snaps it and me and Maggie and the house. Then she puts the Polaroid in the back seat of the car, and comes up and kisses me on the forehead.Meanwhile Asalamalakim is going through motions with Maggie's hand. Maggie's hand is as limp as a fish, and probably as cold, despite the sweat, and she keeps trying to pull it back. It looks like Asalamalakim wants to shake hands but wants to do it fancy. Or maybe he don't know how people shake hands. Anyhow, he soon gives up on Maggie."Well," I say. "Dee.""No, Mama," she says. "Not 'Dee', Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo!""What happened to 'Dee'?" I wanted to know."She's dead," Wangero said. "I couldn't bear it any longer, being named after the people who oppress me.""You know as well as me you was named after your aunt Dicle," I said. Dicie is my sister. She named Dee. We called her "Big Dee" after Dee was born."But who was she named after?" asked Wangero."I guess after Grandma Dee," I said."And who was she named after?" asked Wangero."Her mother," I said, and saw Wangero was getting tired. "That's about as far back as I can trace it," I said.Though, in fact, I probably could have carried it back beyond the Civil War through the branches."Well," said Asalamalakim, "there you are.""Uhnnnh," I heard Maggie say."There I was not," I said, before 'Dicie' cropped up in our family, so why should I try to trace it that far back?"He just stood there grinning, looking down on me like somebody inspecting a Model A car. Every once in a while he and Wangero sent eye signals over my head."How do you pronounce this name?" I asked."You don't have to call me by it if you don't want to," said Wangero."Why shouldn't I?" I asked. "If that's what you want us to call you, we'll call you. ""I know it might sound awkward at first," said Wangero."I'll get used to it," I said. "Ream it out again."Well, soon we got the name out of the way. Asalamalakim had a name twice as long and three times as hard. After I tripped over it two or three times he told me to just call himHakim-a-barber. I wanted to ask him was he a barber, but I didn't really think he was, so I don't ask."You must belong to those beet-cattle peoples down the road," I said. They said"Asalamalakirn" when they met you too, but they didn't Shake hands. Always too busy feeding the cattle, fixing the fences, putting up salt-lick shelters, throwing down hay. When the white folks poisoned some of the herd the men stayed up all night with rifles in their hands. I walked a mile and a half just to see the sight.Hakim-a-barber said, "I accept some of their doctrines, but farming and raising cattle is not my style." (They didn't tell me, and I didn't ask, whether Wangero (Dee) had really gone and married him.)We sat down to eat and right away he said he didn't eat collards and pork was unclean. Wangero, though, went on through the chitlins and corn bread, the greens and every-thing else. She talked a blue streak over the sweet potatoes. Everything delighted her. Even the fact that we still used the benches her daddy made for the table when we couldn't afford to buy chairs."Oh, Mama!" she cried. Then turned to Hakim-a-barber. "I never knew how lovely these benches are. You can feel the rump prints," she said, running her hands underneath her and along the bench. Then she gave a sigh and her hand closed over Grandma Dee's butter dish. "That's it!" she said. "I knew there was something I wanted to ask you if I could have." She jumped up from the table and went over in the corner where the churn stood, the milk in it clabber by now. She looked at the churn and looked at it."This churn top is what I need," she said. "Didn't Uncle Buddy whittle it out of a tree you all used to have?""Yes," I said."Uh huh, " she said happily. "And I want the dasher,too.""Uncle Buddy whittle that, too?" asked the barber.Dee (Wangero) looked up at me."Aunt Dee's first husband whittled the dash," said Maggie so low you almost couldn't hear her. "His name was Henry, but they called him Stash.""Maggie's brain is like an elephants," Wanglero said, laughing. "I can use the churn top as a center piece for the alcove table,”she said, sliding a plate over the churn, "and I'll think of something artistic to do with the dasher."When she finished wrapping the dasher the handle stuck out. I took it for a moment in my hands. You didn't even have to look close to see where hands pushing the dasher up and down tomake butter had left a kind of sink in the wood. In fact, there were a lot of small sinks; you could see where thumbs and fingers had sunk into the wood. It was beautiful light yellow wood, from a tree that grew in the yard where Big Dee and Stash had lived.After dinner Dee (Wangero) went to the trunk at the foot of my bed and started rifling through it. Maggie hung back in the kitchen over the dishpan. Out came Wangero with two quilts. They had been pieced by Grandma Dee and then Big Dee and me had hung them on the quilt frames on the front porch and quilted them. One was in the Lone Star pattern. The other was Walk Around the Mountain. In both of them were scraps of dresses Grandma Dee had worn fifty and more years ago. Bit sand pieces of Grandpa Jarrell's Paisley shirts. And one teeny faded blue piece, about the size of a penny matchbox, that was from Great Grandpa Ezra's uniform that he wore in the Civil War."Mama," Wangero said sweet as a bird. "Can I have these old quilts?"I heard something fall in the kitchen, and a minute later the kitchen door slammed."Why don't you take one or two of the others?” 1 asked. "Th ese old things was just done by me and Big Dee from some tops your grandma pieced before she died.""No," said Wangero. "I don't want those. They are stitched around the borders by machine.""That'll make them last better," I said."That's not the point," said Wanglero. "These are all pieces of dresses Grandma used to wear. She did all this stitching by hand. Imagine!" She held the quilts securely in her arms, stroking them."Some of the pieces, like those lavender ones, come from old clothes her mother handed down to her,” I said, moving up to touch the quilts. Dee (Wangero) moved back just enough so that I couldn't reach the quilts. They already belonged to her. "Imagine!" she breathed again, clutching them closely to her bosom."The truth is," I said, "I promised to give them quilts to Maggie, for when she marries John Thomas."She gasped like a bee had stung her."Maggie can't appreciate these quilts!" she said. "She'd probably be backward enough to put them to everyday use.""I reckon she would," I said. "God knows I been savage ’em for long enough with nobodyusing 'em. I hope she will! ” I didn't want to bring up how I had offered Dee (Wangero) a quilt when she went away to college. Then she had told me they were old-fashioned, out of style."But they're priceless!" she was saying now, furiously, for she has a temper. "Maggie would put them on the bed and in five years they'd be in rags. Less than that!" "She can always make some more,” I said. "Maggie knows how to quilt. "Dee (Wangero) looked at me with hatred. "You just will not understand. The point is these quilts, these quilts!""Well," I said,, stumped. "What would you do with them?""Hang them," she said. As it that was the only thing you could do with quilts.Maggie by now was standing in the door. I could almost hear the sound her feet made as they scraped over each other."She can have them, Mama,” she said like somebody used to never winning anything, or having anything reserved for her. "I can 'member Grandma Dee without the quilts."I looked at her hard. She had filled her bottom lip with checkerberry snuff and it gave her face a kind of dopey, hangdog look. It was Grandma Dee and Big Dee who taught her how to quilt herself. She stood there with her scarred hands hidden in the folds of her skirt. She looked at her sister with something like fear but she wasn't mad at her. This was Maggie's portion. This was the way she knew God to work.When I looked at her like that something hit me in the top of my head and ran down to the soles of my feet. Just like when I'm in church and the spirit of God touches me and I get happy and shout. I did something I never had done before: hugged Maggie to me, then dragged her on into the room, snatched the quilts out of Miss Wangero's hands and dumped them into Maggie's lap. Maggie just sat there on my bed with her mouth open."Take one or two of the others," I said to Dee.But she turned without a word and went out to Hakim-a-barber."You just don't understand," she said, as Maggie and I came out to the car."What don't I under stand?" I wanted to know."Your heritage," she said. And then she turned to Maggie, kissed her, and said, "You ought to try to make some-thing of yourself, too, Maggie. It's really a new day for us. But from the way you and Mama still live you'd never know it."She put on some sunglasses that hid everything above the tip of her nose and her chin.Maggie smiled; maybe at the sunglasses. But a real mile, not scared. After we watched the car dust settle I asked Maggie to bring me a dip of snuff. And then the two of us sat there just enjoying, until it was time to go in the house and go to bed.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------NOTES1) Alice Walker: born 1944 in Eatonton, Georgia, America and graduated from Sarah Lawrence College. Her books include The Third Life of Grange Copeland ( 1970 ), Meridian ( 1976 ), The Color Purple(1982), etc.2)"made it": to become a success, to succeed, either in specific endeavor or in general3) Johnny Carson: a man who runs a late night talk show4)hooked: injured by the horn of the cow being milked5) Jimmy T: 'T' is the initial of the surname of the boy Dee was courting.6)"Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!": phonetic rendering of an African dialect salutation7) "Asalamalakim": phonetic rendering of a Muslim greeting8) Polaroid: a camera that produces instant pictures9) the Civil War: the war between the North and the South in the U. S.(1861-1865)10) branches: branches or divisions of a family descending from a common ancestor11) Ream it out again: "Ream" is perhaps an African dialect word meaning: "unfold, display". Hence the phrase may mean "repeat" or "say it once again"12) pork was unclean: Muslims are forbidden by their religion to eat pork because it is considered to be unclean.13) Chitlins: also chitlings or chitterlings, the small intestines of pigs, used for food, a common dish in Afro-American households14) rump prints: depressions in the benches made by constant sitting15) sink: depressions in the wood of the handle left by the thumbs and fingers第四课外婆的日用家当艾丽斯•沃克尔“我会慢慢习惯的，”我说，“你给我再念一遍吧。
高级英语_advanced_english_课文翻译_张汉熙主编_王立礼编1
第一课中东的集市仿佛把你带回到了几百年、甚至几千年前的时代。
此时此刻显现在我脑海中的这个中东集市，其入口处是一座古老的砖石结构的哥特式拱门。
你首先要穿过一个赤日耀眼、灼热逼人的大型露天广场，然后走进一个凉爽、幽暗的洞穴。
这市场一直向前延伸，一眼望不到尽头，消失在远处的阴影里。
赶集的人们络绎不绝地进出市场，一些挂着铃铛的小毛驴穿行于这熙熙攘攘的人群中，边走边发出和谐悦耳的叮当叮当的响声。
市场的路面约有十二英尺宽，但每隔几码远就会因为设在路边的小货摊的挤占而变窄；那儿出售的货物各种各样，应有尽有。
你一走进市场，就可以听到摊贩们的叫卖声，赶毛驴的小伙计和脚夫们大着嗓门叫人让道的吆喝声，还有那些想买东西的人们与摊主讨价还价的争吵声。
各种各样的噪声此伏彼起，不绝于耳，简直叫人头晕。
随后，当往市场深处走去时，人口处的喧闹声渐渐消失，眼前便是清静的布市了。
这里的泥土地面，被无数双脚板踩踏得硬邦邦的，人走在上面几乎听不到脚步声了，而拱形的泥砖屋顶和墙壁也难得产生什么回音效果。
布店的店主们一个个都是轻声轻气、慢条斯理的样子；买布的顾客们在这种沉闷压抑的气氛感染下，自然而然地也学着店主们的榜样，变得低声细语起来。
中东集市的特点之一是经销同类商品的店家，为避免相互间的竞争，不是分散在集市各处，而是都集中在一块儿，这样既便于让买主知道上哪儿找他们，同时他们自己也可以紧密地联合起来，结成同盟，以便保护自己不受欺侮和刁难。
例如，在布市上，所有那1些卖衣料、窗帘布、椅套布等的商贩都把货摊一个接一个地排设在马路两边，每一个店铺门面前都摆有一张陈列商品的搁板桌和一些存放货物的货架。
讨价还价是人们习以为常的事。
头戴面纱的妇女们迈着悠闲的步子从一个店铺逛到另一个店铺，一边挑选一边问价；在她们缩小选择范围并开始正儿八经杀价之前，往往总要先同店主谈论几句，探探价底。
对于顾客来说，至关重要的一点是，不到最后一刻是不能让店主猜到她心里究竟中意哪样东西、想买哪样东西的。
高级英语第一册课文翻译
第一课中东的集市中东的集市仿佛把你带回到了几百年、甚至几千年前的时代。
此时此刻显现在我脑海中的这个中东集市，其入口处是一座古老的砖石结构的哥特式拱门。
你首先要穿过一个赤日耀眼、灼热逼人的大型露天广场，然后走进一个凉爽、幽暗的洞穴。
这市场一直向前延伸，一眼望不到尽头，消失在远处的阴影里。
赶集的人们络绎不绝地进出市场，一些挂着铃铛的小毛驴穿行于这熙熙攘攘的人群中，边走边发出和谐悦耳的叮当叮当的响声。
市场的路面约有十二英尺宽，但每隔几码远就会因为设在路边的小货摊的挤占而变窄；那儿出售的货物各种各样，应有尽有。
你一走进市场，就可以听到摊贩们的叫卖声，赶毛驴的小伙计和脚夫们大着嗓门叫人让道的吆喝声，还有那些想买东西的人们与摊主讨价还价的争吵声。
各种各样的噪声此伏彼起，不绝于耳，简直叫人头晕。
随后，当往市场深处走去时，人口处的喧闹声渐渐消失，眼前便是清静的布市了。
这里的泥土地面，被无数双脚板踩踏得硬邦邦的，人走在上面几乎听不到脚步声了，而拱形的泥砖屋顶和墙壁也难得产生什么回音效果。
布店的店主们一个个都是轻声轻气、慢条斯理的样子；买布的顾客们在这种沉闷压抑的气氛感染下，自然而然地也学着店主们的榜样，变得低声细语起来。
中东集市的特点之一是经销同类商品的店家，为避免相互间的竞争，不是分散在集市各处，而是都集中在一块儿，这样既便于让买主知道上哪儿找他们，同时他们自己也可以紧密地联合起来，结成同盟，以便保护自己不受欺侮和刁难。
例如，在布市上，所有那1些卖衣料、窗帘布、椅套布等的商贩都把货摊一个接一个地排设在马路两边，每一个店铺门面前都摆有一张陈列商品的搁板桌和一些存放货物的货架。
讨价还价是人们习以为常的事。
头戴面纱的妇女们迈着悠闲的步子从一个店铺逛到另一个店铺，一边挑选一边问价；在她们缩小选择范围并开始正儿八经杀价之前，往往总要先同店主谈论几句，探探价底。
对于顾客来说，至关重要的一点是，不到最后一刻是不能让店主猜到她心里究竟中意哪样东西、想买哪样东西的。
高级英语上册Unit1-6翻译
高级英语（第三版）第一册课文译文和词汇张汉熙版Lesson 1 Face to Face with Hurricane Camille迎战卡米尔号飓风约瑟夫.布兰克小约翰。
柯夏克已料到，卡米尔号飓风来势定然凶猛。
就在去年8月17日那个星期天，当卡米尔号飓风越过墨西哥湾向西北进袭之时，收音机和电视里整天不断地播放着飓风警报。
柯夏克一家居住的地方一-密西西比州的高尔夫港--肯定会遭到这场飓风的猛烈袭击。
路易斯安那、密西西比和亚拉巴马三州沿海一带的居民已有将近15万人逃往内陆安全地带。
但约翰就像沿海村落中其他成千上万的人一样，不愿舍弃家园，要他下决心弃家外逃，除非等到他的一家人一-妻子詹妮丝以及他们那七个年龄从三岁到十一岁的孩子一一眼看着就要灾祸临头。
为了找出应付这场风灾的最佳对策，他与父母商量过。
两位老人是早在一个月前就从加利福尼亚迁到这里来，住进柯夏克一家所住的那幢十个房间的屋子里。
他还就此征求过从拉斯韦加斯开车来访的老朋友查理?希尔的意见。
约翰的全部产业就在自己家里(他开办的玛格纳制造公司是设计、研制各种教育玩具和教育用品的。
公司的一切往来函件、设计图纸和工艺模具全都放在一楼)。
37岁的他对飓风的威力是深有体会的。
四年前，他原先拥有的位于高尔夫港以西几英里外的那个家就曾毁于贝翠号飓风(那场风灾前夕柯夏克已将全家搬到一家汽车旅馆过夜)。
不过，当时那幢房子所处的地势偏低，高出海平面仅几英尺。
"我们现在住的这幢房子高了23英尺，，'他对父亲说，"而且距离海边足有250码远。
这幢房子是1915年建造的。
至今还从未受到过飓风的袭击。
我们呆在这儿恐怕是再安全不过了。
"老柯夏克67岁.是个语粗心慈的熟练机械师。
他对儿子的意见表示赞同。
"我们是可以严加防卫。
度过难关的，"他说?"一但发现危险信号，我们还可以赶在天黑之前撤出去。
" 为了对付这场飓风，几个男子汉有条不紊地做起准备工作来。
高级英语第一册(张汉熙主编)课后paraphrase原文+答案(Unit 1-6,9,10)
Lesson 1 The Middle Eastern Bazaar1)Little donkeys thread their way among the throngs of people.Little donkeys make their way in and out of the moving crowds2)Then as you penetrate deeper into the bazaar, the noise of the entrance fades away, and you come to the muted cloth-market.Then as you go deeper into the market, the noise of the entrance gradually disappears, and you come to the silent cloth-market.3) They narrow down their choice and begin the really serious business of beating the price down. After careful search, comparison and some primary bargaining,they reduce their choices and try making the decision by beginning to do the really serious job convince the shopkeeper to lower the price.4) He will price the item high, and yield little in the bargaining.He will ask for a high price for the item and refuse to cut down the price by any significant amount.5) As you approach it, a tinkling and banging and clashing begins to impinge on your ear.As you get near it, a variety of sounds begin to strike your ear.Lesson 2 Hiroshima -- the "Liveliest”City in Japan1）serious-looking men spoke to one another as if they were obvious of the crowds about them They were so absorbed in their conversion that they seemed not to pay any attention to the people around them.2）The cab driver’s door popped open at the very sight of a traveler.As soon as the taxi driver saw a traveler, he immediately open the door3)The rather arresting spectacle of little old Japan adrift amid beige concrete skyscrapers is the very symbol of the incessant struggle between the kimono and the miniskirt.The traditional floating houses among high modern buildings represent the constant struggle between old tradition and new development.4）I experienced a twinge of embarrassment at the prospect of meeting the mayor of Hiroshima in my socks.I suffered from a strong feeling of shame when I thought of the scene of meeting the mayor of Hiroshima wearing my socks only.5) The few Americans and Germans seemed just as inhibited as I was.The few Americans and Germans seemed just as restrained as 1 was．6)After three days in Japan, the spinal column becomes extraordinarily flexible.After three days in Japan one gets quite used to bowing to people as a ritual to show gratitude．7)I was about to make my little bow of assent, when the meaning of these last words sank in, jolting me out of my sad reverie .I was on the point of showing my agreement by nodding when I suddenly realized what he meant．His words shocked me out my sad dreamy thinking．8)I thought somehow I had been spared.I thought for some reason or other no harm had been done to me．Lesson3 Ships in the Desert1. the prospects of a good catch looked bleakIt was not at all possible to catch a large amount of fish.2.He moved his finger back in time to the ice of two decades ago.Following the layers of ice in the core sample, his finger came to the place where the layer of ice was formed 2050 years ago.3.keeps its engines running to prevent the metal parts from freeze-locking togetherkeeps its engines running for fear that if he stops them, the metal parts would be frozen solid and the engines would not be able to start again4.Considering such scenarios is not a purely speculative exercise.Bit by bit trees in the rain forest are felled and the land is cleared and turned into pasture where cattle can be raised quickly and slaughtered and the beef can be used in hamburgers.5.Acre by acre, the rain forest is being burned to create fast pasture for fast-food beef…Since miles of forest are being destroyed and the habitat for these rare birds no longer exists, thousands of birds which we have not even had a chance to see will become extinct.6 which means we are silencing thousands of songs we have never even heard.Thinking about how a series of events might happen as a consequence of the thinning of the polar cap is not just a kind of practice in conjecture (speculation), it has got practical Value.7.we are ripping matter from its place in the earth in such volume as to upset the balance between daylight and darkness.We are using and destroying resources in such a huge amount that we are disturbing the balance between daylight and darkness.8.Or have our eyes adjusted so completely to the bright lights of civilization that we can't see these clouds for what they are …Or have we been so accustomed to the bright electric lights that we fail to understand the threatening implication of these clouds.9. To come at the question another way…To put forward the question in a different way10.and have a great effect on the location and pattern of human societiesand greatly affect the living places and activities of human societies11.We seem oblivious of the fragility of the earth's natural systems.We seem unaware that the earth's natural systems are delicate.12. And this ongoing revolution has also suddenly accelerated exponentially.And this continuing revolution has also suddenly developed at a speed that doubled and tripled the original speed.Lesson 4 Everyday Use1.She thinks her sister has held life always in the palm of one hand…She thinks that her sister has a firm control of her life.2. "no" is a word the world never learned to say to herShe could always have anything she wanted, and life was extremely generous to her.3. Johnny Carson has much to do to keep up with my quick and witty tongue.The popular TV talk show star, Johnny Carson, who is famous for his witty and glib tongue, has to try hard if he wants to catch up with me.4. It seems to me I have talked to them always with one toot raised in flightIt seems to me that I have talked to them always ready to leave as quickly as possible.5.She washed us in a river of make-believeShe imposed on us lots of falsity.6.burned us with a lot of knowledge we didn't necessarily need to knowimposed on us a lot of knowledge that is totally useless to us7.Like good looks and money, quickness passed her by.She is not bright just as she is neither good-looking rich.8.A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather.Dee wore a very long dress even on such a hot day.9.You can see me trying to move a second or two before I make it.You can see me trying to move my body a couple of seconds before I finally manage to push myself up.10.Anyhow, he soon gives up on Maggie.Soon he knows that won't do for Maggie, so he stops trying to shake hands with Maggie. 11.Though, in fact, I probably could have carried it back beyond the Civil Warthrough the branches.As I see Dee is getting tired of this, I don't want to go on either. In fact, I could have traced it far back before the Civil War along the branches of the family tree.12.Every once in a while he and Wangero sent eye signals over my head.Now and then he and Dee communicated through eye contact in a secretive way.13.Less than that!If Maggie put the old quilts on the bed, they would be in rags less than five years.14.This was the way she knew God to work.She knew this was God's arrangement.Lesson 5 Speech on Hitler's Invasion of the U.S.S.R.1.Hitler was counting on enlisting capitalist and Right Wing sympathies in this country and the U. S. A.Hitler was hoping that if he attacked Russia, he would win in Britain and the U.S. the support of those who were enemies of Communism.2.Winant said the same would be true of the U. S. A.Winant said the United States would adopt the same attitude.3 .…my life is much simplified therebyIn this way, my life is made much easier in this case, it will be much easier for me to decide on my attitude towards events.4. I see the German bombers and fighters in the sky, still smarting from many a British whipping, delighted to find what they believe is an easier and a safer prey.I can see the German bombers and fighters in the sky, who, after suffering severe losses in the aerial battle of England, now feel happy because they think they can easily beat the Russian air force without heavy loss.5.We shall be strengthened and not weakened in determination and in resources.We shall be more determined and shall make better and fuller use of our resources.6. Let us redouble our exertions, and strike with united strength while life and power remain.Let us strengthen our unity and our efforts in the fight against Nazi Germany when we have not yet been overwhelmed and when we are still powerful.Lesson 6 Blackmail1.The house detective's piggy eyes surveyed her sardonically from his gross jowled face.The house detective's small narrow eyes looked her up and down scornfully from his fat face with a heavy jowl.2.Pretty neat set-up you folks got.This is a pretty nice room that you have got.3.The obese body shook in an appreciative chuckle .The fat body shook in a chuckle because the man was enjoying the fact that he could afford to do whatever he liked and also he was appreciating the fact that the Duchess knew why he had come.4.He lowered the level of his incongruous falsetto voice.He had an unnaturally high-pitched voice. now, he lowered the pitch.5.The words spat forth with sudden savagery , all pretense of blandness gone.Ogilvie spat out the words, throwing away his politeness.6. The Duchess of Croydon –three centuries and a half of inbred arrogance behind her –did not yield easily.The Duchess was supported by her arrogance coming from parents of noble families with a history of three centuries and a half. She wouldn't give up easily.7."It's no go, old girl. I'm afraid. It was a good try."It's no use. What you did just now was a good attempt at trying to save the situation. 8."That's more like it," Ogilvie said. He lit the fresh cigar. "Now we're getting somewhere." "That's more acceptable," Ogilvie said. He lit another cigar, "Now we're making some progress. "9.... his eyes sardonically on the Duchess as if challenging her objection....he looked at the Duchess sardonically as if he wanted to see if she dared to object to his smoking.10. The house detective clucked his tongue reprovingly .The house detective made noises with his tongue to show his disapproval.Lesson 9 Mark Twain ---Mirror of America1.a man who became obsessed with the frailties of the human racea man who became constantly preoccupied by the moral weaknesses of mankind2.Mark Twain digested the new American experience before sharing it with the world as writer and lecturer.Mark Twain first observed and absorbed the new American experience, and then introduce it to the world in his books or lectures.3.The cast of characters set before him in his new profession was rich and varied----a cosmos .In his new profession he could meet people of all kinds.4.Broke and discouraged, he accepted a job as reporter with the Virginia City Territorial Enterprise…With no money and a frashated feeling, he accepted a job as reporter with Territorial Enterprise in Virginia City ...5.Mark Twain began digging his way to regional fame as a newspaper reporter and humorist. Mark Twain began working hard to became well known locally as a newspaper reporter and humorist.6. and when she projects a new surprise, the grave world smiles as usual, and says 'Well, that is California all over. '"and when California makes a plan for a new surprise, the solemn people in other states of the U.S. smile as usual, making a comment "that's typical of California"7.Bitterness fed on the man who had made the world laugh.The man who had made the world laugh was himself consumed by bitterness.Lesson 10 The Trial That Rocked the World1. we'll show them a few tricksWe have some clever and unexpected tactics and we will surprise them in the trial.2.The case had erupted round my head...The case had come down upon me unexpectedly and violently.3.The fundamentalists adhered to a literal interpretation of the Old Testament.The fundamentalists believe in a word-for-word acceptance of what is said in the Bible.4.that all animal life, including monkeys and men, had evolved from a common ancestor.that all life had developed gradually from a common original organism5."Let's take this thing to court and test the legality of it."Let's accuse Scopes of teaching evolution and let the court decide whether he is breaking the law or not.6.People from the surrounding hills, mostly fundamentalists, arrived to cheer Bryan against the " infidel outsiders"People from the nearby mountains, mostly fundamentalists, came to support Bryan against those professors, scientists, and lawyers who came from the northern big cities and were not fundamentalists.7.As my father growled, "That's one hell of a jury!"As my father complained angrily, "That' s no jury at all. "8. He is here because ignorance and bigotry are rampant.He is here because unenlightenment and prejudice are widespread and unchecked.9.Spectators paid to gaze at it and ponder whether they might be related.People had to pay in order to have a look at the ape and to consider carefully whether apes and humans could have a common ancestry.10.and the crowd punctuated his defiant replies with fervent "Amens"and the crowd, who were mainly fundamentalists, took his words showing no fear as if they were prayers, interrupting frequently with "Amen"。
大学高级英语第一册张汉熙版第四课原文加翻译Everyday_Use_for_your_grandmama
Everyday Use for your grandmamaAlice WalkerI will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wavy yester day afternoon. A yard like this is more comfortable than most people know. It is not just a yard. It is like an extended living room. When the hard clay is swept clean as a floor and the fine sand around the edges lined with tiny, irregular grooves, anyone can come and sit and look up into the elm tree and wait for the breezes that never come inside the house.Maggie will be nervous until after her sister goes: she will stand hopelessly in corners, homely and ashamed of the burn scars down her arms and legs, eying her sister with a mixture of envy and awe. She thinks her sister has held life always in the palm of one hand, that "no" is a word the world never learned to say to her.You've no doubt seen those TV shows where the child who has "made it" is confronted, as a surprise, by her own mother and father, tottering in weakly from backstage. (A Pleasant surprise, of course: What would they do if parent and child came on the show only to curse out and insult each other?) On TV mother and child embrace and smile into each other's face. Sometimes the mother and father weep, the child wraps them in her arms and leans across the table to tell how she would not have made it without their help. I have seen these programs.Sometimes I dream a dream in which Dee and I are suddenly brought together on a TV program of this sort. Out of a cark and soft-seated limousine I am ushered into abright room filled with many people. There I meet a smiling, gray, sporty man like Johnny Carson who shakes my hand and tells me what a fine girl I have. Then we are on the stage and Dee is embracing me with tear s in her eyes. She pins on my dress a large orchid, even though she has told me once that she thinks or chides are tacky flowers.In real life I am a large, big-boned woman with rough, man-working hands. In the winter I wear flannel nightgowns to bed and overalls during the day. I can kill and clean a hog as mercilessly as a man. My fat keeps me hot in zero weather. I can work outside all day, breaking ice to get water for washing; I can eat pork liver cooked over the open tire minutes after it comes steaming from the hog. One winter I knocked a bull calf straight in the brain between the eyes with a sledge hammer and had the meat hung up to chill be-fore nightfall. But of course all this does not show on television. I am the way my daughter would want me to be: a hundred pounds lighter, my skin like an uncooked barley pan-cake. My hair glistens in the hot bright lights. Johnny Car – son has much to do to keep up with my quick and witty tongue.But that is a mistake. I know even before I wake up. Who ever knew a Johnson with a quick tongue? Who can even imagine me looking a strange white man in the eye? It seems to me I have talked to them always with one toot raised in flight, with my head turned in whichever way is farthest from them. Dee, though. She would always look anyone in the eye. Hesitation was no part of her nature."How do I look, Mama?" Maggie says, showing just enough of her thin body enveloped in pink skirt and red blouse for me to know she's there, almost hidden by the door."Come out into the yard," I say.Have you ever seen a lame animal, perhaps a dog run over by some careless person rich enough to own a car, sidle up to someone who is ignorant enough to be kind of him? That is the way my Maggie walks. She has been like this, chin on chest, eyes on ground, feet in shuffle, ever since the fire that burned the other house to the ground.Dee is lighter than Maggie, with nicer hair and a fuller figure. She's a woman now, though sometimes I forget. How long ago was it that the other house burned? Ten, twelve years? Sometimes I can still hear the flames and feel Maggie's arms sticking to me, her hair smoking and her dress falling off her in little black papery flakes. Her eyes seemed stretched open, blazed open by the flames reflect-ed in them. And Dee. I see her standing off under the sweet gum tree she used to dig gum out of; a look at concentration on her face as she watched the last dingy gray board of the house tall in toward the red-hot brick chimney. Why don't you do a dance around the ashes? I'd wanted to ask her. She had hated the house that much.I used to think she hated Maggie, too. But that was before we raised the money, the church and me, to send her to Augusta to school. She used to read to us without pity, forcing words, lies, other folks' habits, whole lives upon us two, sitting trapped and ignorant underneath her voice. She washed us in a river of make-believe, burned us with a lot of knowledge we didn't necessarily need to know. Pressed us to her with the serious way she read, to shove us away at just the moment, like dimwits, we seemed about to understand.Dee wanted nice things. A yellow organdy dress to wear to her graduation fromhigh school; black pumps to match a green suit she'd made from an old suit somebody gave me. She was determined to stare down any disaster in her efforts. Her eyelids would not flicker for minutes at a time. Often I fought off the temptation to shake her. At sixteen she had a style of her own' and knew what style was.I never had an education myself. After second grade the school was closed down. Don't ask me why. in 1927 colored asked fewer questions than they do now. Sometimes Maggie reads to me. She stumbles along good-naturedly but can't see well. She knows she is not bright. Like good looks and money, quickness passed her by. She will marry John Thomas (who has mossy teeth in an earnest face) and then I'll be free to sit here and I guess just sing church songs to myself. Although I never was a good singer. Never could carry a tune. I was always better at a man's job. 1 used to love to milk till I was hooked in the side in '49. Cows are soothing and slow and don't bother you, unless you try to milk them the wrong way.I have deliberately turned my back on the house. It is three rooms, just like the one that burned, except the roof is tin: they don't make shingle roofs any more. There are no real windows, just some holes cut in the sides, like the portholes in a ship, but not round and not square, with rawhide holding the shutter s up on the outside. This house is in a pasture, too, like the other one. No doubt when Dee sees it she will want to tear it down. She wrote me once that no matter where we "choose" to live, she will manage to come see us. But she will never bring her friends. Maggie and I thought about this and Maggie asked me, Mama, when did Dee ever have any friends?"She had a few. Furtive boys in pink shirts hanging about on washday after school.Nervous girls who never laughed. Impressed with her they worshiped the well-turned phrase, the cute shape, the scalding humor that erupted like bubbles in lye. She read to them.When she was courting Jimmy T she didn't have much time to pay to us, but turned all her faultfinding power on him. He flew to marry a cheap city girl from a family of ignorant flashy people. She hardly had time to recompose herself.When she comes I will meet -- but there they are!Maggie attempts to make a dash for the house, in her shuffling way, but I stay her with my hand. "Come back here," I say. And she stops and tries to dig a well in the sand with her toe.It is hard to see them clearly through the strong sun. But even the first glimpse of leg out of the car tells me it is Dee. Her feet were always neat-looking, as it God himself had shaped them with a certain style. From the other side of the car comes a short, stocky man. Hair is all over his head a foot long and hanging from his chin like a kinky mule tail. I hear Maggie suck in her breath. "Uhnnnh," is what it sounds like. Like when you see the wriggling end of a snake just in front of your toot on the road. "Uhnnnh."Dee next. A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather. A dress so loud it hurts my eyes. There are yel-lows and oranges enough to throw back the light of the sun. I feel my whole face warming from the heat waves it throws out. Earrings gold, too, and hanging down to her shoulders. Bracelets dangling and making noises when she moves her arm up to shake the folds of the dress out of her armpits. The dress is loose and flows, and as she walks closer, I like it. I hear Maggie go "Uhnnnh" again. It is her sister'shair. It stands straight up like the wool on a sheep. It is black as night and around the edges are two long pigtails that rope about like small lizards disappearing behind her ears."Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!" she says, coming on in that gliding way the dress makes her move. The short stocky fellow with the hair to his navel is all grinning and he follows up with "Asalamalakim, my mother and sister!" He moves to hug Maggie but she falls back, right up against the back of my chair. I feel her trembling there and when I look up I see the perspiration falling off her chin."Don't get up," says Dee. Since I am stout it takes something of a push. You can see me trying to move a second or two before I make it. She turns, showing white heels through her sandals, and goes back to the car. Out she peeks next with a Polaroid. She stoops down quickly and lines up picture after picture of me sitting there in front of the house with Maggie cowering behind me. She never takes a shot without making sure the house is included. When a cow comes nibbling around the edge of the yard she snaps it and me and Maggie and the house. Then she puts the Polaroid in the back seat of the car, and comes up and kisses me on the forehead.Meanwhile Asalamalakim is going through motions with Maggie's hand. Maggie's hand is as limp as a fish, and probably as cold, despite the sweat, and she keeps trying to pull it back. It looks like Asalamalakim wants to shake hands but wants to do it fancy. Or maybe he don't know how people shake hands. Anyhow, he soon gives up on Maggie."Well," I say. "Dee.""No, Mama," she says. "Not 'Dee', Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo!""What happened to 'Dee'?" I wanted to know."She's dead," Wangero said. "I couldn't bear it any longer, being named after the people who oppress me.""You know as well as me you was named after your aunt Dicle," I said. Dicie is my sister. She named Dee. We called her "Big Dee" after Dee was born."But who was she named after?" asked Wangero."I guess after Grandma Dee," I said."And who was she named after?" asked Wangero."Her mother," I said, and saw Wangero was getting tired. "That's about as far back as I can trace it," I said.Though, in fact, I probably could have carried it back beyond the Civil War through the branches."Well," said Asalamalakim, "there you are.""Uhnnnh," I heard Maggie say."There I was not," I said, before 'Dicie' cropped up in our family, so why should I try to trace it that far back?"He just stood there grinning, looking down on me like somebody inspecting a Model A car. Every once in a while he and Wangero sent eye signals over my head."How do you pronounce this name?" I asked."You don't have to call me by it if you don't want to," said Wangero."Why shouldn't I?" I asked. "If that's what you want us to call you, we'll call you. ""I know it might sound awkward at first," said Wangero."I'll get used to it," I said. "Ream it out again."Well, soon we got the name out of the way. Asalamalakim had a name twice as long and three times as hard. After I tripped over it two or three times he told me to just call him Hakim-a-barber. I wanted to ask him was he a barber, but I didn't really think he was, so I don't ask."You must belong to those beet-cattle peoples down the road," I said. They said "Asalamalakirn" when they met you too, but they didn't Shake hands. Always too busy feeding the cattle, fixing the fences, putting up salt-lick shelters, throwing down hay. When the white folks poisoned some of the herd the men stayed up all night with rifles in their hands. I walked a mile and a half just to see the sight.Hakim-a-barber said, "I accept some of their doctrines, but farming and raising cattle is not my style." (They didn't tell me, and I didn't ask, whether Wangero (Dee) had really gone and married him.)We sat down to eat and right away he said he didn't eat collards and pork was unclean. Wangero, though, went on through the chitlins and corn bread, the greens and every-thing else. She talked a blue streak over the sweet potatoes. Everything delighted her. Even the fact that we still used the benches her daddy made for the table when we couldn't afford to buy chairs."Oh, Mama!" she cried. Then turned to Hakim-a-barber. "I never knew how lovely these benches are. You can feel the rump prints," she said, running her hands underneath her and along the bench. Then she gave a sigh and her hand closed overGrandma Dee's butter dish. "That's it!" she said. "I knew there was something I wanted to ask you if I could have." She jumped up from the table and went over in the corner where the churn stood, the milk in it clabber by now. She looked at the churn and looked at it."This churn top is what I need," she said. "Didn't Uncle Buddy whittle it out of a tree you all used to have?""Yes," I said."Uh huh, " she said happily. "And I want the dasher,too.""Uncle Buddy whittle that, too?" asked the barber.Dee (Wangero) looked up at me."Aunt Dee's first husband whittled the dash," said Maggie so low you almost couldn't hear her. "His name was Henry, but they called him Stash.""Maggie's brain is like an elephants," Wanglero said, laughing. "I can use the churn top as a center piece for the alcove table,”she said, sliding a plate over the churn, "and I'll think of something artistic to do with the dasher."When she finished wrapping the dasher the handle stuck out. I took it for a moment in my hands. You didn't even have to look close to see where hands pushing the dasher up and down to make butter had left a kind of sink in the wood. In fact, there were a lot of small sinks; you could see where thumbs and fingers had sunk into the wood. It was beautiful light yellow wood, from a tree that grew in the yard where Big Dee and Stash had lived.After dinner Dee (Wangero) went to the trunk at the foot of my bed and startedrifling through it. Maggie hung back in the kitchen over the dishpan. Out came Wangero with two quilts. They had been pieced by Grandma Dee and then Big Dee and me had hung them on the quilt frames on the front porch and quilted them. One was in the Lone Star pattern. The other was Walk Around the Mountain. In both of them were scraps of dresses Grandma Dee had worn fifty and more years ago. Bit sand pieces of Grandpa Jarrell's Paisley shirts. And one teeny faded blue piece, about the size of a penny matchbox, that was from Great Grandpa Ezra's uniform that he wore in the Civil War."Mama," Wangero said sweet as a bird. "Can I have these old quilts?"I heard something fall in the kitchen, and a minute later the kitchen door slammed."Why don't you take one or two of the others?” 1 asked. "These old things was just done by me and Big Dee from some tops your grandma pieced before she died.""No," said Wangero. "I don't want those. They are stitched around the borders by machine.""That'll make them last better," I said."That's not the point," said Wanglero. "These are all pieces of dresses Grandma used to wear. She did all this stitching by hand. Imagine!" She held the quilts securely in her arms, stroking them."Some of the pieces, like those lavender ones, come from old clothes her mother handed down to her,” I said, moving up to touch the quilts. Dee (Wangero) moved back just enough so that I couldn't reach the quilts. They already belonged to her. "Imagine!" she breathed again, clutching them closely to her bosom."The truth is," I said, "I promised to give them quilts to Maggie, for when she marriesJohn Thomas."She gasped like a bee had stung her."Maggie can't appreciate these quilts!" she said. "She'd probably be backward enough to put them to everyday use.""I reckon she would," I said. "God knows I been savage ’em for long enough with nobody using 'em. I hope she will! ” I didn't want to bring up how I had offered Dee (Wangero) a quilt when she went away to college. Then she had told me they were old-fashioned, out of style."But they're priceless!" she was saying now, furiously, for she has a temper. "Maggie would put them on the bed and in five years they'd be in rags. Less than that!" "She can always make some more,” I said. "Maggie knows how to quilt. "Dee (Wangero) looked at me with hatred. "You just will not understand. The point is these quilts, these quilts!""Well," I said,, stumped. "What would you do with them?""Hang them," she said. As it that was the only thing you could do with quilts.Maggie by now was standing in the door. I could almost hear the sound her feet made as they scraped over each other."She can have them, Mama,” she said like somebody used to neve r winning anything, or having anything reserved for her. "I can 'member Grandma Dee without the quilts."I looked at her hard. She had filled her bottom lip with checkerberry snuff and it gave her face a kind of dopey, hangdog look. It was Grandma Dee and Big Dee whotaught her how to quilt herself. She stood there with her scarred hands hidden in the folds of her skirt. She looked at her sister with something like fear but she wasn't mad at her. This was Maggie's portion. This was the way she knew God to work.When I looked at her like that something hit me in the top of my head and ran down to the soles of my feet. Just like when I'm in church and the spirit of God touches me and I get happy and shout. I did something I never had done before: hugged Maggie to me, then dragged her on into the room, snatched the quilts out of Miss Wangero's hands and dumped them into Maggie's lap. Maggie just sat there on my bed with her mouth open."Take one or two of the others," I said to Dee.But she turned without a word and went out to Hakim-a-barber."You just don't understand," she said, as Maggie and I came out to the car."What don't I under stand?" I wanted to know."Your heritage," she said. And then she turned to Maggie, kissed her, and said, "You ought to try to make some-thing of yourself, too, Maggie. It's really a new day for us. But from the way you and Mama still live you'd never know it."She put on some sunglasses that hid everything above the tip of her nose and her chin.Maggie smiled; maybe at the sunglasses. But a real mile, not scared. After we watched the car dust settle I asked Maggie to bring me a dip of snuff. And then the two of us sat there just enjoying, until it was time to go in the house and go to bed.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------NOTES1) Alice Walker: born 1944 in Eatonton, Georgia, America and graduated from Sarah Lawrence College. Her books include The Third Life of Grange Copeland ( 1970 ), Meridian ( 1976 ), The Color Purple(1982), etc.2)"made it": to become a success, to succeed, either in specific endeavor or in general3) Johnny Carson: a man who runs a late night talk show4)hooked: injured by the horn of the cow being milked5) Jimmy T: 'T' is the initial of the surname of the boy Dee was courting.6)"Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!": phonetic rendering of an African dialect salutation7) "Asalamalakim": phonetic rendering of a Muslim greeting8) Polaroid: a camera that produces instant pictures9) the Civil War: the war between the North and the South in the U. S.(1861-1865)10) branches: branches or divisions of a family descending from a common ancestor11) Ream it out again: "Ream" is perhaps an African dialect word meaning: "unfold, display". Hence the phrase may mean "repeat" or "say it once again"12) pork was unclean: Muslims are forbidden by their religion to eat pork because it is considered to be unclean.13) Chitlins: also chitlings or chitterlings, the small intestines of pigs, used for food, a common dish in Afro-American households14) rump prints: depressions in the benches made by constant sitting15) sink: depressions in the wood of the handle left by the thumbs and fingers第四课外婆的日用家当艾丽斯•沃克尔“我会慢慢习惯的，”我说，“你给我再念一遍吧。
张汉熙《高级英语（1）》（第3版）学习指南【词汇短语+课文精解+全文翻译+练习答案】（Lesson
张汉熙《高级英语（1）》（第3版）学习指南【词汇短语+课文精解+全文翻译+练习答案】（LessonLesson 11 The Way to Rainy Mountain一、词汇短语1. blizzard n. a severe snowstorm characterized by coldtemperatures and heavy drifting of snow大风雪2. anvil n. an iron block on which a blacksmith puts hot pieces ofmetal before shaping them with a hammer铁砧，[解]砧骨3. brittle adj. hard but easily broken易碎的，脆弱的4. hickory n. the hard wood of the N American hickory tree 山核桃属植物5. pecan n. the nut of the American pecan tree with a smoothpinkish-brown shell美洲山核桃树6. witch hazel n. any of several shrubs or trees of thegenus Hamamelis; bark yields an astringent lotion金缕梅7. foliage n. the leaves of a tree or plant; leaves and branches together树叶，植物8. writhe v. to twist or move your body without stopping, often becauseyou are in great pain翻腾9. grasshopper n.an insect with long back legs, that can jump very high and that makesa sound with its legs蚱蜢，蝗虫10. preeminently adv. to a very great degree; especially卓越地；杰出地11. disposition n. the natural qualities of a person’s character性情，性格12. grim adj. looking or sounding very serious, unpleasant and depressing严酷的，冷酷的13. unrelenting adj. 1) not stopping or becoming lesssevere; 2) if a person is unrelenting, they continue with somethingwithout considering the feelings of other people不宽恕的，不屈不挠的；无情的，冷酷的14. canyon n. a long, narrow valley between high cliffs, often with astream flowing through it (美)峡谷，溪谷15. pillage n. the act of stealing things from a place or region,especially in a war, using violence掠夺16. corral n. an closure for holding or capturing horses, cattle or other animals畜栏17. affliction n. pain and suffering or something that causes it 痛苦，苦恼18. brooding adj. sad and mysterious or threatening沉思的，徘徊不去的19. divinity n. the quality of being a god or like God神，神学，神性，上帝20. cleavage n. a division or split between people or groups 劈开，分裂21. elk n. a large deer that lives in the north of Europe, Asia and NorthAmerica. In North America it is called a moose.美洲赤鹿22. badger n. an animal with grey fur and wide black and white lineson its head. Badgers are nocturnal (= active mostly at night) and live inholes in the ground.獾23. flax n. a plant with blue flowers, grown for its stem that is used tomake thread and its seeds that are used to make linseed oil 亚麻24. buckwheat n. small darkseed that is grown as food for animals and for making flour 荞麦25. stonecrop n. (植物)景天26. larkspur n. a tall garden plant with blue, pink or whiteflowers growing up its stem翠雀属植物27. billow v. 1) to fill with air and swell out; 2) to fill with air and swell out翻腾28. sweet clover n. 草木樨植物29. lee n. a sheltered place, especially one on that side of anything awayfrom the wind背风处，庇护所30. profusion n. a very large quantity of something丰富，充沛，慷慨31. deity n. the state of being a god; divine nature; a god orgoddess神，神性32. solstice n. either of the two times of the year at which the sunreaches its highest or lowest point in the sky at midday, marked by thelongest and shortest days至日；冬至或夏至33.caldron n. a large kettle or boiler大锅(炉)，大汽锅34.wean v. to cause (oneself or someone else) to give up aformer habit;to withdraw (a person) by degrees (from a habit, object of affection, etc.) asby substituting some other interest使断奶，使放弃，使断念35. ridge n. a narrow area of high land along the top of a line of hills; ahigh pointed area near the top of a mountain山脊，屋脊36. upthrust n. the force with which a liquid or gas pushes upagainst an object that is floating in it向上推，浮力；(地质) 地壳隆起37. engender v. to make a feeling or situation exist造成38. score v. to make cuts or lines in or on something把……记下；划线，刻划；获得；评价39. kinsmen v. a male relative男性亲属40. tenuous adj. 1) so weak or uncertain that it hardly exists;2)extremely thin and easily broken纤细的，脆弱的；稀薄的；贫乏的41. reverence n. a feeling of great respect or admiration forsomebody/something尊敬，敬畏42. consummate adj. extremely skilled; perfect完美的，圆满的43. impale v. to pierce through or fix with a sharp object刺穿，(作为刑罚) 把……钉在尖桩上；使绝望44. barter n. the system of exchanging goods, property, services, etc.for other goods, etc. without using money物品交换，实物交易45. deicide n. the killing of a god杀神，杀神者，害死耶稣的人46. skillet n. a small frying pan煮锅，长柄浅锅47. rambling adj. spreading in various directions with noparticular pattern漫步的，散漫的，流浪性的48. shawl n. a large piece of cloth worn by a woman around the shouldersor head, or wrapped around a baby披肩，围巾49. sentinel n. a soldier whose job is to guard something哨兵50. opaque adj. not able to be seen through; not transparent ortranslucent不透明的，不传热的，迟钝的51. abide v. to dislike somebody/something so much that you hatehaving to be with or deal with them忍受，容忍；持续，遵守52. ample adj. large, often in an attractive way充足的，丰富的，宽敞的53. council n. a group of people who are elected to govern anarea such as a city or county政务会，理事会，委员会54. servitude n. the condition of being a slave or beingforced to obey another person劳役，奴役；奴隶状态；地役权55. fright n. a feeling of fear惊骇，惊吓，害怕56. nocturnal adj. of the night夜的，夜曲的，夜间发生的57. wake n. a watch or vigil held over the body of a dead person duringthe night before burial (葬礼前)守夜，看护58. perch v. to alight or rest on栖息，位于，使坐落于59. handrail n. a long, narrow bar that you can hold onto forsupport, for example when you are going up or down stairs 栏杆，扶手60. purl v. to flow with a gentle movement and amurmuring sound潺潺流水61. scissortail n. (美洲)叉尾霸鹟62. hie v. to go quickly催促，赶快二、课文精解1.The Way to Rainy Mountain：《雨山之路》（1969年）是由普利策奖获得者斯科特写的一篇散文。
高级英语第一册课文翻译
高级英语第一册课文翻译及单词短语第一课中东的集市中东的集市仿佛把你带回到了几百年、甚至几千年前的时代。
此时此刻显现在我脑海中的这个中东集市，其入口处是一座古老的砖石结构的哥特式拱门。
你首先要穿过一个赤日耀眼、灼热逼人的大型露天广场，然后走进一个凉爽、幽暗的洞穴。
这市场一直向前延伸，一眼望不到尽头，消失在远处的阴影里。
赶集的人们络绎不绝地进出市场，一些挂着铃铛的小毛驴穿行于这熙熙攘攘的人群中，边走边发出和谐悦耳的叮当叮当的响声。
市场的路面约有十二英尺宽，但每隔几码远就会因为设在路边的小货摊的挤占而变窄；那儿出售的货物各种各样，应有尽有。
你一走进市场，就可以听到摊贩们的叫卖声，赶毛驴的小伙计和脚夫们大着嗓门叫人让道的吆喝声，还有那些想买东西的人们与摊主讨价还价的争吵声。
各种各样的噪声此伏彼起，不绝于耳，简直叫人头晕。
随后，当往市场深处走去时，人口处的喧闹声渐渐消失，眼前便是清静的布市了。
这里的泥土地面，被无数双脚板踩踏得硬邦邦的，人走在上面几乎听不到脚步声了，而拱形的泥砖屋顶和墙壁也难得产生什么回音效果。
布店的店主们一个个都是轻声轻气、慢条斯理的样子；买布的顾客们在这种沉闷压抑的气氛感染下，自然而然地也学着店主们的榜样，变得低声细语起来。
中东集市的特点之一是经销同类商品的店家，为避免相互间的竞争，不是分散在集市各处，而是都集中在一块儿，这样既便于让买主知道上哪儿找他们，同时他们自己也可以紧密地联合起来，结成同盟，以便保护自己不受欺侮和刁难。
例如，在布市上，所有那1些卖衣料、窗帘布、椅套布等的商贩都把货摊一个接一个地排设在马路两边，每一个店铺门面前都摆有一张陈列商品的搁板桌和一些存放货物的货架。
讨价还价是人们习以为常的事。
头戴面纱的妇女们迈着悠闲的步子从一个店铺逛到另一个店铺，一边挑选一边问价；在她们缩小选择范围并开始正儿八经杀价之前，往往总要先同店主谈论几句，探探价底。
对于顾客来说，至关重要的一点是，不到最后一刻是不能让店主猜到她心里究竟中意哪样东西、想买哪样东西的。
(完整word版)高级英语1(外研社;第三版;张汉熙主编)
第一课FacetofacewithHurricaneCamilleParaphrase:Weare23feetabovethesealevel.Thehousehasbeenheresince1915,andhasneverbeendamagedbyanyhurricanes.Wecanmakethenecessarypreparationsandsurvivethehurricanewithoutmuchdamage.Watergotintothegeneratorandputitout.Itstoppedproducingelectricitysothelightsalsowentout.Everybodygooutthroughthebackdoorandruntothecar.6.Theelectricalsystemsinthecar(thebatteryforthestarter)hadbeenputoutbywater.AsJohnwatchedthewaterinchitswayupthesteps,hefeltastrongsenseofguiltbecauseheblamedhimselfforendan geringthewholefamilybydecidingnottofleeinland.OhGod,pleasehelpustogetthroughthisstormsafely7.GrandmotherKoshaksangafewwordsaloneandthenhervoicegraduallygrewdimmerandstopped.8.Janisdisplayedratherlatetheexhaustionbroughtaboutbythenervoustensioncausedbythehurrican e.Translation(C-E)1.Eachandeveryplanemustbecheckedoutthoroughlybeforetakingoff. 每架飞机起飞之前必须经过严格的检查。
张汉熙高级英语第一册课后翻译11-16
1）谐趣园是仿照无锡的一座花园建造的。
The Garden of Harmonious Interest was modeled on a garden in Wuxi.2）他号召孩子们以解放军英雄为榜样。
He called on the children to model themselves on the PLA heroes.3）这本书应归入哲学类。
This work may be related to philosophy.4）本杰明·富兰克林不仅是政治家，而且还是科学家、发明家。
Benjamin Franklin was as much a scientist and an inventor as a statesman.5）他把每次试验的结果都记在本子上。
He set down all the findings of every experiment in his notebook.6）你能用简明的语言概括这首古诗的中心思想吗？Can you sum up the central idea of this ancient poem in plain terms?7）我们应不断地使自己的思想适应变化的情况。
We should constantly adapt our thinking to the changing conditions.8）年轻的士兵冻死在雪地里，手里还紧握着枪。
The young soldier was frozen to death in the snow, his hands still hanging on to a gun.9）该公司将为他们提供住宿和交通工具。
The said company will furnishthem with lodging and transportation.10）车速限制在每小时55公里之内。
The speed of motor vehicles is restricted to 55 km.per hour.11）电报转达了首都人民对震区人民深切的关怀。
大学高级英语第一册张汉熙版第四课原文加翻译Everyday_Use_for_your_grandmama
Everyday Use for your grandmamaAlice WalkerI will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wavy yester day afternoon. A yard like this is more comfortable than most people know. It is not just a yard. It is like an extended living room. When the hard clay is swept clean as a floor and the fine sand around the edges lined with tiny, irregular grooves, anyone can come and sit and look up into the elm tree and wait for the breezes that never come inside the house.Maggie will be nervous until after her sister goes: she will stand hopelessly in corners, homely and ashamed of the burn scars down her arms and legs, eying her sister with a mixture of envy and awe. She thinks her sister has held life always in the palm of one hand, that "no" is a word the world never learned to say to her.You've no doubt seen those TV shows where the child who has "made it" is confronted, as a surprise, by her own mother and father, tottering in weakly from backstage. (A Pleasant surprise, of course: What would they do if parent and child came on the show only to curse out and insult each other?) On TV mother and child embrace and smile into each other's face. Sometimes the mother and father weep, the child wraps them in her arms and leans across the table to tell how she would not have made it without their help. I have seen these programs.Sometimes I dream a dream in which Dee and I are suddenly brought together on a TV program of this sort. Out of a cark and soft-seated limousine I am ushered into abright room filled with many people. There I meet a smiling, gray, sporty man like Johnny Carson who shakes my hand and tells me what a fine girl I have. Then we are on the stage and Dee is embracing me with tear s in her eyes. She pins on my dress a large orchid, even though she has told me once that she thinks or chides are tacky flowers.In real life I am a large, big-boned woman with rough, man-working hands. In the winter I wear flannel nightgowns to bed and overalls during the day. I can kill and clean a hog as mercilessly as a man. My fat keeps me hot in zero weather. I can work outside all day, breaking ice to get water for washing; I can eat pork liver cooked over the open tire minutes after it comes steaming from the hog. One winter I knocked a bull calf straight in the brain between the eyes with a sledge hammer and had the meat hung up to chill be-fore nightfall. But of course all this does not show on television. I am the way my daughter would want me to be: a hundred pounds lighter, my skin like an uncooked barley pan-cake. My hair glistens in the hot bright lights. Johnny Car – son has much to do to keep up with my quick and witty tongue.But that is a mistake. I know even before I wake up. Who ever knew a Johnson with a quick tongue? Who can even imagine me looking a strange white man in the eye? It seems to me I have talked to them always with one toot raised in flight, with my head turned in whichever way is farthest from them. Dee, though. She would always look anyone in the eye. Hesitation was no part of her nature."How do I look, Mama?" Maggie says, showing just enough of her thin body enveloped in pink skirt and red blouse for me to know she's there, almost hidden by the door."Come out into the yard," I say.Have you ever seen a lame animal, perhaps a dog run over by some careless person rich enough to own a car, sidle up to someone who is ignorant enough to be kind of him? That is the way my Maggie walks. She has been like this, chin on chest, eyes on ground, feet in shuffle, ever since the fire that burned the other house to the ground.Dee is lighter than Maggie, with nicer hair and a fuller figure. She's a woman now, though sometimes I forget. How long ago was it that the other house burned? Ten, twelve years? Sometimes I can still hear the flames and feel Maggie's arms sticking to me, her hair smoking and her dress falling off her in little black papery flakes. Her eyes seemed stretched open, blazed open by the flames reflect-ed in them. And Dee. I see her standing off under the sweet gum tree she used to dig gum out of; a look at concentration on her face as she watched the last dingy gray board of the house tall in toward the red-hot brick chimney. Why don't you do a dance around the ashes? I'd wanted to ask her. She had hated the house that much.I used to think she hated Maggie, too. But that was before we raised the money, the church and me, to send her to Augusta to school. She used to read to us without pity, forcing words, lies, other folks' habits, whole lives upon us two, sitting trapped and ignorant underneath her voice. She washed us in a river of make-believe, burned us with a lot of knowledge we didn't necessarily need to know. Pressed us to her with the serious way she read, to shove us away at just the moment, like dimwits, we seemed about to understand.Dee wanted nice things. A yellow organdy dress to wear to her graduation fromhigh school; black pumps to match a green suit she'd made from an old suit somebody gave me. She was determined to stare down any disaster in her efforts. Her eyelids would not flicker for minutes at a time. Often I fought off the temptation to shake her. At sixteen she had a style of her own' and knew what style was.I never had an education myself. After second grade the school was closed down. Don't ask me why. in 1927 colored asked fewer questions than they do now. Sometimes Maggie reads to me. She stumbles along good-naturedly but can't see well. She knows she is not bright. Like good looks and money, quickness passed her by. She will marry John Thomas (who has mossy teeth in an earnest face) and then I'll be free to sit here and I guess just sing church songs to myself. Although I never was a good singer. Never could carry a tune. I was always better at a man's job. 1 used to love to milk till I was hooked in the side in '49. Cows are soothing and slow and don't bother you, unless you try to milk them the wrong way.I have deliberately turned my back on the house. It is three rooms, just like the one that burned, except the roof is tin: they don't make shingle roofs any more. There are no real windows, just some holes cut in the sides, like the portholes in a ship, but not round and not square, with rawhide holding the shutter s up on the outside. This house is in a pasture, too, like the other one. No doubt when Dee sees it she will want to tear it down. She wrote me once that no matter where we "choose" to live, she will manage to come see us. But she will never bring her friends. Maggie and I thought about this and Maggie asked me, Mama, when did Dee ever have any friends?"She had a few. Furtive boys in pink shirts hanging about on washday after school.Nervous girls who never laughed. Impressed with her they worshiped the well-turned phrase, the cute shape, the scalding humor that erupted like bubbles in lye. She read to them.When she was courting Jimmy T she didn't have much time to pay to us, but turned all her faultfinding power on him. He flew to marry a cheap city girl from a family of ignorant flashy people. She hardly had time to recompose herself.When she comes I will meet -- but there they are!Maggie attempts to make a dash for the house, in her shuffling way, but I stay her with my hand. "Come back here," I say. And she stops and tries to dig a well in the sand with her toe.It is hard to see them clearly through the strong sun. But even the first glimpse of leg out of the car tells me it is Dee. Her feet were always neat-looking, as it God himself had shaped them with a certain style. From the other side of the car comes a short, stocky man. Hair is all over his head a foot long and hanging from his chin like a kinky mule tail. I hear Maggie suck in her breath. "Uhnnnh," is what it sounds like. Like when you see the wriggling end of a snake just in front of your toot on the road. "Uhnnnh."Dee next. A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather. A dress so loud it hurts my eyes. There are yel-lows and oranges enough to throw back the light of the sun. I feel my whole face warming from the heat waves it throws out. Earrings gold, too, and hanging down to her shoulders. Bracelets dangling and making noises when she moves her arm up to shake the folds of the dress out of her armpits. The dress is loose and flows, and as she walks closer, I like it. I hear Maggie go "Uhnnnh" again. It is her sister'shair. It stands straight up like the wool on a sheep. It is black as night and around the edges are two long pigtails that rope about like small lizards disappearing behind her ears."Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!" she says, coming on in that gliding way the dress makes her move. The short stocky fellow with the hair to his navel is all grinning and he follows up with "Asalamalakim, my mother and sister!" He moves to hug Maggie but she falls back, right up against the back of my chair. I feel her trembling there and when I look up I see the perspiration falling off her chin."Don't get up," says Dee. Since I am stout it takes something of a push. You can see me trying to move a second or two before I make it. She turns, showing white heels through her sandals, and goes back to the car. Out she peeks next with a Polaroid. She stoops down quickly and lines up picture after picture of me sitting there in front of the house with Maggie cowering behind me. She never takes a shot without making sure the house is included. When a cow comes nibbling around the edge of the yard she snaps it and me and Maggie and the house. Then she puts the Polaroid in the back seat of the car, and comes up and kisses me on the forehead.Meanwhile Asalamalakim is going through motions with Maggie's hand. Maggie's hand is as limp as a fish, and probably as cold, despite the sweat, and she keeps trying to pull it back. It looks like Asalamalakim wants to shake hands but wants to do it fancy. Or maybe he don't know how people shake hands. Anyhow, he soon gives up on Maggie."Well," I say. "Dee.""No, Mama," she says. "Not 'Dee', Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo!""What happened to 'Dee'?" I wanted to know."She's dead," Wangero said. "I couldn't bear it any longer, being named after the people who oppress me.""You know as well as me you was named after your aunt Dicle," I said. Dicie is my sister. She named Dee. We called her "Big Dee" after Dee was born."But who was she named after?" asked Wangero."I guess after Grandma Dee," I said."And who was she named after?" asked Wangero."Her mother," I said, and saw Wangero was getting tired. "That's about as far back as I can trace it," I said.Though, in fact, I probably could have carried it back beyond the Civil War through the branches."Well," said Asalamalakim, "there you are.""Uhnnnh," I heard Maggie say."There I was not," I said, before 'Dicie' cropped up in our family, so why should I try to trace it that far back?"He just stood there grinning, looking down on me like somebody inspecting a Model A car. Every once in a while he and Wangero sent eye signals over my head."How do you pronounce this name?" I asked."You don't have to call me by it if you don't want to," said Wangero."Why shouldn't I?" I asked. "If that's what you want us to call you, we'll call you. ""I know it might sound awkward at first," said Wangero."I'll get used to it," I said. "Ream it out again."Well, soon we got the name out of the way. Asalamalakim had a name twice as long and three times as hard. After I tripped over it two or three times he told me to just call him Hakim-a-barber. I wanted to ask him was he a barber, but I didn't really think he was, so I don't ask."You must belong to those beet-cattle peoples down the road," I said. They said "Asalamalakirn" when they met you too, but they didn't Shake hands. Always too busy feeding the cattle, fixing the fences, putting up salt-lick shelters, throwing down hay. When the white folks poisoned some of the herd the men stayed up all night with rifles in their hands. I walked a mile and a half just to see the sight.Hakim-a-barber said, "I accept some of their doctrines, but farming and raising cattle is not my style." (They didn't tell me, and I didn't ask, whether Wangero (Dee) had really gone and married him.)We sat down to eat and right away he said he didn't eat collards and pork was unclean. Wangero, though, went on through the chitlins and corn bread, the greens and every-thing else. She talked a blue streak over the sweet potatoes. Everything delighted her. Even the fact that we still used the benches her daddy made for the table when we couldn't afford to buy chairs."Oh, Mama!" she cried. Then turned to Hakim-a-barber. "I never knew how lovely these benches are. You can feel the rump prints," she said, running her hands underneath her and along the bench. Then she gave a sigh and her hand closed overGrandma Dee's butter dish. "That's it!" she said. "I knew there was something I wanted to ask you if I could have." She jumped up from the table and went over in the corner where the churn stood, the milk in it clabber by now. She looked at the churn and looked at it."This churn top is what I need," she said. "Didn't Uncle Buddy whittle it out of a tree you all used to have?""Yes," I said."Uh huh, " she said happily. "And I want the dasher,too.""Uncle Buddy whittle that, too?" asked the barber.Dee (Wangero) looked up at me."Aunt Dee's first husband whittled the dash," said Maggie so low you almost couldn't hear her. "His name was Henry, but they called him Stash.""Maggie's brain is like an elephants," Wanglero said, laughing. "I can use the churn top as a center piece for the alcove table,”she said, sliding a plate over the churn, "and I'll think of something artistic to do with the dasher."When she finished wrapping the dasher the handle stuck out. I took it for a moment in my hands. You didn't even have to look close to see where hands pushing the dasher up and down to make butter had left a kind of sink in the wood. In fact, there were a lot of small sinks; you could see where thumbs and fingers had sunk into the wood. It was beautiful light yellow wood, from a tree that grew in the yard where Big Dee and Stash had lived.After dinner Dee (Wangero) went to the trunk at the foot of my bed and startedrifling through it. Maggie hung back in the kitchen over the dishpan. Out came Wangero with two quilts. They had been pieced by Grandma Dee and then Big Dee and me had hung them on the quilt frames on the front porch and quilted them. One was in the Lone Star pattern. The other was Walk Around the Mountain. In both of them were scraps of dresses Grandma Dee had worn fifty and more years ago. Bit sand pieces of Grandpa Jarrell's Paisley shirts. And one teeny faded blue piece, about the size of a penny matchbox, that was from Great Grandpa Ezra's uniform that he wore in the Civil War."Mama," Wangero said sweet as a bird. "Can I have these old quilts?"I heard something fall in the kitchen, and a minute later the kitchen door slammed."Why don't you take one or two of the others?” 1 asked. "These old things was just done by me and Big Dee from some tops your grandma pieced before she died.""No," said Wangero. "I don't want those. They are stitched around the borders by machine.""That'll make them last better," I said."That's not the point," said Wanglero. "These are all pieces of dresses Grandma used to wear. She did all this stitching by hand. Imagine!" She held the quilts securely in her arms, stroking them."Some of the pieces, like those lavender ones, come from old clothes her mother handed down to her,” I said, moving up to touch the quilts. Dee (Wangero) moved back just enough so that I couldn't reach the quilts. They already belonged to her. "Imagine!" she breathed again, clutching them closely to her bosom."The truth is," I said, "I promised to give them quilts to Maggie, for when she marriesJohn Thomas."She gasped like a bee had stung her."Maggie can't appreciate these quilts!" she said. "She'd probably be backward enough to put them to everyday use.""I reckon she would," I said. "God knows I been savage ’em for long enough with nobody using 'em. I hope she will! ” I didn't want to bring up how I had offered Dee (Wangero) a quilt when she went away to college. Then she had told me they were old-fashioned, out of style."But they're priceless!" she was saying now, furiously, for she has a temper. "Maggie would put them on the bed and in five years they'd be in rags. Less than that!" "She can always make some more,” I said. "Maggie knows how to quilt. "Dee (Wangero) looked at me with hatred. "You just will not understand. The point is these quilts, these quilts!""Well," I said,, stumped. "What would you do with them?""Hang them," she said. As it that was the only thing you could do with quilts.Maggie by now was standing in the door. I could almost hear the sound her feet made as they scraped over each other."She can have them, Mama,” she said like somebody used to neve r winning anything, or having anything reserved for her. "I can 'member Grandma Dee without the quilts."I looked at her hard. She had filled her bottom lip with checkerberry snuff and it gave her face a kind of dopey, hangdog look. It was Grandma Dee and Big Dee whotaught her how to quilt herself. She stood there with her scarred hands hidden in the folds of her skirt. She looked at her sister with something like fear but she wasn't mad at her. This was Maggie's portion. This was the way she knew God to work.When I looked at her like that something hit me in the top of my head and ran down to the soles of my feet. Just like when I'm in church and the spirit of God touches me and I get happy and shout. I did something I never had done before: hugged Maggie to me, then dragged her on into the room, snatched the quilts out of Miss Wangero's hands and dumped them into Maggie's lap. Maggie just sat there on my bed with her mouth open."Take one or two of the others," I said to Dee.But she turned without a word and went out to Hakim-a-barber."You just don't understand," she said, as Maggie and I came out to the car."What don't I under stand?" I wanted to know."Your heritage," she said. And then she turned to Maggie, kissed her, and said, "You ought to try to make some-thing of yourself, too, Maggie. It's really a new day for us. But from the way you and Mama still live you'd never know it."She put on some sunglasses that hid everything above the tip of her nose and her chin.Maggie smiled; maybe at the sunglasses. But a real mile, not scared. After we watched the car dust settle I asked Maggie to bring me a dip of snuff. And then the two of us sat there just enjoying, until it was time to go in the house and go to bed.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------NOTES1) Alice Walker: born 1944 in Eatonton, Georgia, America and graduated from Sarah Lawrence College. Her books include The Third Life of Grange Copeland ( 1970 ), Meridian ( 1976 ), The Color Purple(1982), etc.2)"made it": to become a success, to succeed, either in specific endeavor or in general3) Johnny Carson: a man who runs a late night talk show4)hooked: injured by the horn of the cow being milked5) Jimmy T: 'T' is the initial of the surname of the boy Dee was courting.6)"Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!": phonetic rendering of an African dialect salutation7) "Asalamalakim": phonetic rendering of a Muslim greeting8) Polaroid: a camera that produces instant pictures9) the Civil War: the war between the North and the South in the U. S.(1861-1865)10) branches: branches or divisions of a family descending from a common ancestor11) Ream it out again: "Ream" is perhaps an African dialect word meaning: "unfold, display". Hence the phrase may mean "repeat" or "say it once again"12) pork was unclean: Muslims are forbidden by their religion to eat pork because it is considered to be unclean.13) Chitlins: also chitlings or chitterlings, the small intestines of pigs, used for food, a common dish in Afro-American households14) rump prints: depressions in the benches made by constant sitting15) sink: depressions in the wood of the handle left by the thumbs and fingers第四课外婆的日用家当艾丽斯•沃克尔“我会慢慢习惯的，”我说，“你给我再念一遍吧。
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高级英语第一册课文翻译第一课中东的集市中东的集市仿佛把你带回到了几百年、甚至几千年前的时代。
此时此刻显现在我脑海中的这个中东集市，其入口处是一座古老的砖石结构的哥特式拱门。
你首先要穿过一个赤日耀眼、灼热逼人的大型露天广场，然后走进一个凉爽、幽暗的洞穴。
这市场一直向前延伸，一眼望不到尽头，消失在远处的阴影里。
赶集的人们络绎不绝地进出市场，一些挂着铃铛的小毛驴穿行于这熙熙攘攘的人群中，边走边发出和谐悦耳的叮当叮当的响声。
市场的路面约有十二英尺宽，但每隔几码远就会因为设在路边的小货摊的挤占而变窄；那儿出售的货物各种各样，应有尽有。
你一走进市场，就可以听到摊贩们的叫卖声，赶毛驴的小伙计和脚夫们大着嗓门叫人让道的吆喝声，还有那些想买东西的人们与摊主讨价还价的争吵声。
各种各样的噪声此伏彼起，不绝于耳，简直叫人头晕。
随后，当往市场深处走去时，人口处的喧闹声渐渐消失，眼前便是清静的布市了。
这里的泥土地面，被无数双脚板踩踏得硬邦邦的，人走在上面几乎听不到脚步声了，而拱形的泥砖屋顶和墙壁也难得产生什么回音效果。
布店的店主们一个个都是轻声轻气、慢条斯理的样子；买布的顾客们在这种沉闷压抑的气氛感染下，自然而然地也学着店主们的榜样，变得低声细语起来。
中东集市的特点之一是经销同类商品的店家，为避免相互间的竞争，不是分散在集市各处，而是都集中在一块儿，这样既便于让买主知道上哪儿找他们，同时他们自己也可以紧密地联合起来，结成同盟，以便保护自己不受欺侮和刁难。
例如，在布市上，所有那 1些卖衣料、窗帘布、椅套布等的商贩都把货摊一个接一个地排设在马路两边，每一个店铺门面前都摆有一张陈列商品的搁板桌和一些存放货物的货架。
讨价还价是人们习以为常的事。
头戴面纱的妇女们迈着悠闲的步子从一个店铺逛到另一个店铺，一边挑选一边问价；在她们缩小选择范围并开始正儿八经杀价之前，往往总要先同店主谈论几句，探探价底。
对于顾客来说，至关重要的一点是，不到最后一刻是不能让店主猜到她心里究竟中意哪样东西、想买哪样东西的。
假如让店主猜中了她所要买的商品的话，他便会漫天要价，而且在还价过程中也很难作出让步。
而在卖主那一方来说，他必须竭尽全力地声称，他开出的价钱使他根本无利可图，而他之所以愿意这样做完全是出于他本人对顾客的敬重。
顾客有时来了又去，去了又来，因此，像这样讨价还价的情形有可能持续一整天，甚至好几天。
集市上最引人注目、给人印象最深刻的地方之一是铜器市场。
你一走近这里，耳朵里便只听得见金属器皿互相碰击时所发出的一阵阵砰砰啪啪、丁丁当当的响声；走得越近，响声便越来越大，越来越清晰。
直待你走到拐角处一转弯，眼前便出现了锃亮的铜器，它们映照着无数盏明灯和火盆，流光飞舞，有如仙境。
每个铜匠铺子里都有几个徒工——他们都是一些男性青少年，其中有的年龄小得让人难以置信——在那里不停地锤打着一些形状各异、大小不一的铜器，而铺子的老板则在一旁指点着，有时也亲自操锤敲打几下。
铺子的后边，还有一个小不点儿的徒工在那里用一根拴在大脚趾上的绳子鼓动着一个巨大的皮风箱，煽着一大炉炭火——燃烧着的木炭随着风箱的鼓动而有节奏地变得忽明忽暗。
在这里，你会看到许多精美的锅碗瓢盆，上面雕刻着各种精细复杂的传统图案，也能看到一些当地人日常使用的质朴无华的厨房用具，虽无花纹图案，但造形美观，经济实用。
再走一处便是地毯市场。
这儿有各种质地的地毯，它们色彩斑炯，花纹图案富有地方特色——有的简单粗犷，有的精巧和谐得令人吃惊。
再往前走便是香料市场，这里充满各种浓烈的异香奇味；接下来是食品市场，在这里，你可以买到豪华酒宴上所需的任何山珍海味，也可以与徒工、脚夫一道坐进小饭馆里去吃那不能登大雅之堂的面包和奶酪。
集市里有棚顶的街巷纵横交错，有如一座迷宫，鳞次栉比地坐落其间的有印染市场、陶器市场和木器市场。
随便走到哪儿，你都有可能透过某个门洞瞥见一个洒满阳光的庭院，那也许是个清真寺的院子，也许是个商旅客栈的院子。
在那儿，总会有几头骆驼旁若无人地卧着嚼草料，而在骆驼的身边则总是堆放着它们穿越沙漠，从几百英里以外的地方驮运而来的大捆大捆的货物。
除了其给予人的总体印象外，集市中最令人难忘的地方恐怕要算是榨亚麻籽油的作坊了。
那是一间约三十英尺高、六十英尺见方的屋子，空间阔大，但光线幽暗，犹如洞穴一般。
其拱形屋顶及四面的泥砖墙壁因厚厚地覆盖着数百年积下的灰尘而变得模糊难辨。
屋内有三个大石磙，每个石磙上都有一根粗木杆从中心穿过，作为磙轴，磙轴的一端与一根立柱相连，使石磙可以绕立柱作旋转运动，另一端则套在一头蒙着眼罩的骆驼身上，通过骆驼不停地绕圈子走动来带动石磙旋转。
石磙沿着一个环形石槽作圆周运动，石槽旁边有一人专门负责往槽里装亚麻籽。
亚麻籽先由石磙碾成浆，然后再拿去榨油。
油坊的骆驼是我见过的骆驼中最大最好的，而且体格健壮无比——肌肉发达，身躯伟岸，气宇轩昂。
榨油工序是由一套摇摇欲坠的机械装置来完成的。
该装置由大梁、缆索和滑轮组合而成，犹如一座高塔耸立在屋中，上端直与拱形屋顶相接。
相形之下，油坊里的骆驼和石磙便显得矮小起来。
这套装置是由一个人操作的。
他先将亚麻籽浆铲入一只大石缸里，继而动作利索地爬上令人头晕目眩的高处系牢缆索，然后全身使劲压在一根用树干做成的粗大的横梁上，带动缆索的滑轮装置运转。
古木大梁压得嘎吱作响，缆索开始绷紧，接着便见一滴滴的油沿着一条石槽流入一只废旧汽油桶里。
随着大梁越压越低，缆索越绷越紧，大梁的嘎吱声，石磙的辘辘声，以及骆驼不时发出的咕噜咕噜的呼吸声和叹息声响成一片，榨出的油也很快地由涓滴细流变成了一股晶莹发亮、奔腾不止的洪流。
(选自《高级阅读与欣赏》，1962)第二课广岛——日本“最有活力”的城市(节选)雅各?丹瓦“广岛到了!大家请下车!”当世界上最快的高速列车减速驶进广岛车站并渐渐停稳时，那位身着日本火车站站长制服的男人口中喊出的一定是这样的话。
我其实并没有听懂他在说些什么，一是因为他是用日语喊的，其次，则是因为我当时心情沉重，喉咙哽噎，忧思万缕，几乎顾不上去管那日本铁路官员说些什么。
踏上这块土地，呼吸着广岛的空气，对我来说这行动本身已是一套令人激动的经历，其意义远远超过我以往所进行的任何一次旅行或采访活动。
难道我不就是在犯罪现场吗?这儿的日本人看来倒没有我这样的忧伤情绪。
从车站外的人行道上看去，这儿的一切似乎都与日本其他城市没什么两样。
身着和嘏的小姑娘和上了年纪的太太与西装打扮的少年和妇女摩肩接豫；神情严肃的男人们对周围的人群似乎视而不见，只顾着相互交淡，并不停地点头弯腰，互致问候：“多么阿里伽多戈扎伊马嘶。
”还有人在使用杂货铺和烟草店门前挂着的小巧的红色电话通话。
“嗨!嗨!”出租汽车司机一看见旅客，就砰地打开车门，这样打着招呼。
“嗨”，或者某个发音近似“嗨”的什么词，意思是“对”或“是”。
“能送我到市政厅吗?”司机对着后视镜冲我一笑，又连声“嗨!”“嗨!”出租车穿过广岛市区狭窄的街巷全速奔驰，我们的身子随着司机手中方向盘的一次次急转而前俯后仰，东倒西歪。
与此同时，这座曾惨遭劫难的城市的高楼大厦则一座座地从我们身边飞掠而过。
正当我开始觉得路程太长时，汽车嘎地一声停了下来，司机下车去向警察问路。
就像东京的情形一样，广岛的出租车司机对他们所在的城市往往不太熟悉，但因为怕在外国人面前丢脸，却又从不肯承认这一点。
无论乘客指定的目的地在哪里，他们都毫不犹豫地应承下来，根本不考虑自己要花多长时间才能找到目的地。
这段小插曲后来终于结束了，我也就不知不觉地突然来到了宏伟的市政厅大楼前。
当我出示了市长应我的采访要求而发送的请柬后，市政厅接待人员向我深深地鞠了一躬，然后声调悠扬地长叹了一口气。
“不是这儿，先生，”他用英语说道。
“市长邀请您今天晚上同其他外宾一起在水上餐厅赴宴。
您看，就是这儿。
”他边说边为我在请柬背面勾划出了一张简略的示意图。
幸亏有了他画的图，我才找到一辆出租车把我直接送到了运河堤岸，那儿停泊着一艘顶篷颇像一般日本房屋屋顶的大游艇。
由于地价过于昂贵，日本人便把传统日本式房屋建到了船上。
漂浮在水面上的旧式日本小屋夹在一座座灰黄色摩天大楼之间，这一引人注目的景观正象征着和服与超短裙之间持续不断的斗争。
在水上餐厅的门口，一位身着和服、面色如玉、风姿绰约的迎宾女郎告诉我要脱鞋进屋。
于是我便脱下鞋子，走进这座水上小屋里的一个低矮的房间，蹑手蹑脚地踏在柔软的榻榻米地席上，因想到要这样穿着袜子去见广岛市长而感到十分困窘不安。
市长是位瘦高个儿的男人，目光忧郁，神情严肃。
出人意料的是，刚到广岛车站时袭扰着我的那种异样的忧伤情绪竟在这时重新袭上心头，我的心情又难受起来，因为我又一次意识到自己置身于曾遭受第一颗原子弹轰击的现场。
这儿曾有成千上万的生命顷刻之间即遭毁灭，还有成千上万的人在痛苦的煎熬中慢慢死去。
到场的宾客们被互相介绍了一番。
他们大多数都是日本人，我也不好开口去问为什么要请我们来这儿聚会。
在场的少数几位美国人和德国人看来也同我一样有些局促不安。
“先生们，”市长开言道，“我很高兴欢迎你们到广岛来。
”大家都开始弯腰鞠躬，连在场的西方人也不例外。
只要在日本呆上三天，人的脊椎骨就会变得特别地柔韧灵活。
“先生们，你们光临广岛是我们的极大荣幸。
”大家又开始鞠躬。
随着广岛这一名字的一次次重复，大家的面容变得越来越严肃起来。
“广岛，大家知道，是一座大家都很熟悉的城市，”市长接着说道。
“对，对，当然是这样，”在场的人们低声议论着，脸上的神色越来越不安起来。
“难得有个城市像广岛这样闻名遐迩。
我既高兴而又自豪地欢迎诸位来到广岛。
令广岛如此举世闻名的乃是它的——牡蛎。
”我正准备点头对市长的话表示赞同，可就在这时，我突然听明白了刚才这句话末尾几个字的意义，我的头脑也就随之从忧愁伤感中清醒过来。
“广岛——牡蛎?怎么没提原子弹和这个城市所遭受的灾难以及人类有史以来犯下的最大的罪恶呢?”市长还在继续演讲，一个劲儿赞美着日本南方的海味。
我蹑手蹑脚地退到屋子的后边，那儿有几个人在开小会，没怎么理睬市长的演讲。
“您看上去像是心中有什么疑惑未解似的，”一个身材矮小、戴着一副特大眼镜的日本人对我说道。
“不错，我得承认我真的没有料到在这儿会听到一番关于牡蛎的演说。
我原以为广岛仍未摆脱原子弹灾祸的阴影。
”“没有人再去谈它了，谁都不愿再提了，尤其是在这儿出生的或是亲身经历了那场灾难的人。
”“你也是这种态度吗?”“我当时就在这个城市，不过没在市中心。
我之所以对您讲起这些，是因为我已差不多步入老年了。
在这个以牡蛎闻名的城市里有两种截然不同的意见，一种主张保存原子弹爆炸留下的痕迹，另一种则主张销毁一切痕迹，甚至要拆除立于爆炸中心的纪念碑。
这一派人还要求拆掉原子博物馆。
”“你们为什么要这样做呢?”“因为那些东西使人伤感，因为时代毕竟在前进。