英语泛读教程4课文翻译
泛读4课文翻译
Unit?1?普通人的胜出之道?在大学里，Jim似乎是一个非常优秀的快速成功者。
他用很少的努力取得很好的等第，他的同学评选他是“最可能成功的人”。
毕业后，他有几个工作可选。
?Jim进入一家大型保险公司的销售部门并且在工作之初表现很好。
但他很快陷入一种停滞不前的状态，随后跳到一家更小的公司，情况同样如此。
厌倦了销售工作，他开始尝试销售管理。
然而之前的模式又发生了：他深受喜爱，被认为是一个能快速成功的人，但他很快就只能像哑炮一样只能发出微弱的嘶嘶声了。
现在他为另外一家公司卖保险，并且疑惑他为什么不能做得更好。
?Joseph?D'Arrigo是另外一个例子。
“我总把我自己看作是一个普通人，”D'Arrigo告诉我。
“我进入寿险这一行，做得还算不错。
我有幸与几个最棒的寿险推销员一起被指任为一委员会委员。
一时间我吓得要命。
”?当他开始了解这些成功者时，D'Arrigo意识到了什么：“他们并没有比我有更高的天赋。
他们也是普通人，只是他们把眼光放高一些，然后找到了实现他们目标的途径。
”他还意识到了更多的东西：“如果其他普通人可以梦想远大的梦想，我也可以。
”现在他自己拥有一个市值数百万美元的专营员工福利的公司。
?为什么像D'Arrigo这样的普通人似乎经常能比像Jim一样的人取得更多的成功呢？为了找出其中的原因，在我作为公司咨询者的工作中，我与超过190个人进行了面谈。
非正式调查的结果为我证实了Theodore?Roosevelt曾经说过的话：“成功的普通人不是天才，他仅仅拥有平凡品质，但他将他的那些平凡品质发展到超出常人的水平。
”?我坚信那些胜出的普通人有以下特点：?懂得自律。
“你不需要成功的天赋，”科罗拉多州丹佛市Porter纪念医院的首席执行官，因扭转经营不善的医院而获得名望的Irwin?C.?Hansen?强调“你的全部所需是一大罐胶水。
你在你的椅子上涂上一些，在裤子的臀部涂上一些，然后坐在上面，坚持做每一件事直到你做到了你自己的最好。
英语泛读教程4课文翻译
英语泛读教程4课文翻译1天才与工匠许多人羡慕作家们的精彩小说，但却很少有人知道作家们是如何辛勤笔耕才使一篇小说问世的。
以下的短文将讨论小说的酝酿过程，以及作家是如何将这小说雕琢成一件精致完美的艺术品。
存有一次，我在暮色中走进小树林边一棵鲜花花开的小桃树前。
我久久东站在那里凝视着，直至最后一道光线消逝。
我看不出那一棵原先的模样，看不到曾反射果核，能够崩碎你的牙齿的力量，也看不出那并使它与橡树和绿草二者区别的原则。
显现出来在我面前的，就是一种深沉而谜样的魅力。
当读者读到一部杰出的小说时，他也会这样如痴如狂，欲将小说字字句句刻骨铭心，不提出任何问题。
但即使就是个初学写作者也晓得，除那将小说带回世上的文字之外，除了更多的形成小说生命的因素，小说的生命并不始于文学创作，而始于内心深处的构想。
要创作出有独创性的作品，并不要求懂得创造的功能。
多少世纪以来的艺术、哲学及科学创造都出自人们的头脑，而创造者也许从未想到去关注创造的内在过程。
然而，在我看来，对创造工作一定程度的了解，至少会使我们通过知道两个事实，增长我们处理正在出现的故事的智慧。
首先，天赋不是掌控了技艺的艺术家独特的特性，而是人脑的创造性功能。
不仅所有对技艺的掌控都所含天赋，而且每个人都具备天赋，无论他的天赋发展就是何等不充份。
对技艺的掌控就是天赋的显现出来，就是经过培育的，发展了的和文化素质训练的天赋。
你的天赋在最为完整的层面上起至促进作用。
它的任务就是缔造。
它就是你的故事的创造者。
第二，将你的小说带进世界的文字是艺术家的工作，它就和一个泥瓦匠的工作一样，有意识、谨慎而实实在在。
天赋正如理解力、记忆力和想象力一样是我们的精神禀赋中的天然部分，而技艺却不是。
它必须通过实践才能学到，并要通过实践才能掌握。
如果要使在我们内心深处浮现的故事跃然纸上，光彩照人，那么，每个故事都须有感染力极强的优雅文笔。
只有健全的技艺才能使我们做到这一点。
一个故事就是如何筹划变成的呢？据传，我们从一生中的前二十年，或许前五年起至就已经开始文学创作。
新编大学英语四泛读课文翻译
After—class reading 课文翻译(Book 4)Unit 1致命诱惑1英国离奇谋杀案小说的女皇，毫无疑问是阿加莎·克里斯蒂。
虽然作者本人在20多年前就去世了，但她创作的78部侦探小说还是非常畅销。
它们已经被译成了100多种语言，销量超过了20亿册。
2阿加莎的小说无论是在英国还是在其他国家，都如此受人喜爱并不难理解。
她的每本书都构思精巧。
她创造的人物一眼就能辨认出，情节的发展非常规范、准确、流畅。
但最重要的是，她所有的故事都给读者一个谜团。
3克里斯蒂的作品几乎都是以谋杀开场，迫使读者提出这样一个问题：“是谁干的?”，而最后总是水落石出。
读者的乐趣就在于根据故事里隐含的线索顺藤摸瓜，试图在作者揭开谜底之前找到正确答案。
这种模式吸引了人类最强烈的本能——好奇心——而人们对这种模式欢迎的程度没有任何减弱的迹象。
4很多离奇的案子都是由克里斯蒂笔下某个常常出场的侦探破解，例如那个非常自信的比利时人埃居尔·波洛探长，或者是那个显然没有恶意的小老太太马普尔小姐。
她同时也为她的故事创造了一个特有的背景，这一背景，如同她创作的一些人物一样为人们所熟知。
那是处于两次世界大战之间的英国，那儿的小村庄里社区关系紧密，生活安静，或者是城里的阔佬们在乡下的豪宅里度周末。
5这个世界有着严格的社会等级制度。
乡下宅子的主人，很可能是贵族成员，占据着社会的顶层，然后是那些职业阶层：医生、律师和商人。
处于底层的则是一般民众，在书中通常作为仆从、厨师和园丁出场。
当谋杀案发生时，需要调查的嫌疑人不在少数。
6阿加莎-克里斯蒂的世界不是一个完全真实的世界，这就是她的作品还没有过时的原因之一。
这是一个安定、循规蹈矩的世界，然后谋杀案打乱了人们的正常生活。
必须侦破案件，抓住杀人犯，恢复宁静的生活。
7在阿加莎·克里斯蒂一生的大部分时问里，英国的杀人犯都被处以死刑。
因此，她作品中的谋杀案一旦破获，找出了杀人犯，那么他或者她的末日也就到了。
英语泛读教程4unit2ThreeDaystoSee课文和译文
英语泛读教程4unit2ThreeDaystoSee课文和译文第一篇：英语泛读教程4unit 2 Three Days to See课文和译文Three Days to Seeby Helen KellerHelen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher.In the following essay, she discussed how people should value their ability to see.All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live.Sometimes it was as long as a year;sometimes as short as twenty-four hours.But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours.I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances.What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow.Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life.We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come.There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry;” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed.Hebecomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values.It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.Most of us, however, take life for granted.We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future.When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable.We seldom think of it.The days stretch out in an endless vista.So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses.Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight.Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life.But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties.Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation.It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life.Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight;silence would teach him the joys of sound.Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see.Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed.“Nothing in particular,” she replied.I might havebeen incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hourthrough the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch.I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf.I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine.In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep.I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions;and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me.Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song.I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers.To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug.To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things.If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight.Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little.The panorama of colour and action which fills the world is taken for granted.It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in “How to Use Your Eyes”.The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them.He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.Suppose you set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had onlythree more days to see.If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness.You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living.First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs.Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me.I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult tasks of my education.I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that “window of the soul”, the eye.I can only “see” through my finger tips the outline of a face.I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions.I know my friends from the feel of their faces.But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch.I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me.But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them throughwatching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases;but of causal friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand.But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot.As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know.And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements.The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular.But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy.Court records reveal every day how inaccurately “eyewitnesses” see.A given event will be “seen” in several different ways by as many witnesses.Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.Oh, the things that I shouldsee if I had the power of sight for just three days!(1634 words)译文假如我有三天光明海伦·凯勒海伦·凯勒自幼就又盲又聋，在老师的帮助下成为一名成功的讲师、作家及教育家。
泛读4翻译
4.黑人中产阶级的负担作为黑人中产阶级的一员，我备受煎熬。
一方面，白人轻拍着我的脑袋（认为我不过是幸运罢了），另一方面，黑人抽打着我的脸（憎恨或嫉妒我所取得的成功）。
这里有一项令很多人至今感到吃惊的发现：一旦获得了同等的机会从事白领的文书工作，黑人和所有人一样地渴望着生活中相同的事物。
这些包括了人们常说的梦想的豪宅，两辆汽车，良好的教育，以及孩子们能够在迪斯尼乐园度假。
事实上，相较于其他美国人而言，我们恐怕更渴望获得这一切，因为大多数黑人已经太久无法享受到这些了。
同时，在我们的“故土”，通常被人们称为贫民窟的地方，仍有相当多的黑人同胞。
他们当中观念陈旧的好战分子无休止地咒骂我们黑人中产阶级，说我们“忘了本”。
我们被指责抛弃了革命，背叛了民族，变成了“奥利奥”——外表是黑的，内心却已被白人同化。
事实是我们不曾忘本，我们也不敢忘本。
我们只不过是奋斗在不同的阵线，并不是厌倦了战争。
或许，我们可能更加痛心，因为我们知道黑人世界和白人世界其实可以融合在一起，成为一个更美好的世界。
只要那些毒品贩子仍然毫不犹豫地利用儿时的友情来找我的麻烦，我就不可能忘本。
当我怀着恐惧回到以前住过的地方，钱包被人抢走时，我不会忘本;当我享用商务午餐却发现服务员是一位老同学时，我也不会忘本。
我回忆起一位从前和我一起玩洋娃娃的女孩，她现在依靠政府救济款抚养五个子女;还有一个住在教堂里的男孩，现在因谋杀罪而入狱;儿时的密友则服食了过量毒品，尸体被发现于我们曾一起玩捉迷藏的小巷里。
这一切怎能令我忘本!我的生活充满了不和谐。
刚刚精神饱满地从巴黎度假归来，很可能一星期后，我就会坐上长途车行驶在熟悉的路上，去南方腹地的穷乡僻壤参加我那老迈的叔父的葬礼。
叔父是个文盲，他生活的圈子方圆不过50英里。
有时，当我拿着公文包在车站等车去上班时，我会碰到我姑母和其他一些清洁女工从车上下来去给我的邻居清扫地板。
但我从未因此感到羞愧。
黑人的进步已远远超出我们最大的期望;我们从没有抱很大希望，因此这进步委实让我们吃惊。
英语泛读教程4unit2ThreeDaystoSee课文和译文
Three Days to Seeby Helen KellerHelen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher. In the following essay, she discussed how people should value their ability to see.All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets? Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and yea rs to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry;” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stro ke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might havebeen incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of colour and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in “How to Use Your Eyes”. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.Suppose you set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult tasks of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that “window of the soul”, the eye. I can only “see” through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of causal friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and l et it go at that?For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements. The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately “eyewitnesses” see. A given event will be “seen” in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!(1634 words)译文假如我有三天光明海伦·凯勒海伦·凯勒自幼就又盲又聋，在老师的帮助下成为一名成功的讲师、作家及教育家。
英语泛读教程4第三版翻译
1天才与工匠许多人羡慕作家们的精彩小说，但却很少有人知道作家们是如何辛勤笔耕才使一篇小说问世的。
以下的短文将讨论小说的酝酿过程，以及作家是如何将这小说雕琢成一件精致完美的艺术品。
有一次，我在暮色中来到小树林边一棵鲜花盛开的小桃树前。
我久久站在那里凝视着，直到最后一道光线消逝。
我看不到那树原先的模样，看不见曾穿透果核，能崩碎你的牙齿的力量，也看不到那使它与橡树和绿草相区别的原则。
显现在我面前的，是一种深邃而神秘的魅力。
当读者读到一部杰出的小说时，他也会这样如痴如狂，欲将小说字字句句刻骨铭心，不提出任何问题。
但即使是个初学写作者也知道，除那将小说带到世上的文字之外，还有更多的构成小说生命的因素，小说的生命并不始于写作，而始于内心深处的构思。
要创作出有独创性的作品，并不要求懂得创造的功能。
多少世纪以来的艺术、哲学及科学创造都出自人们的头脑，而创造者也许从未想到去关注创造的内在过程。
然而，在我看来，对创造工作一定程度的了解，至少会使我们通过知道两个事实，增长我们处理正在出现的故事的智慧。
首先，天赋不是掌握了技艺的艺术家独有的特性，而是人脑的创造性功能。
不仅所有对技艺的掌握都含有天赋，而且每个人都具有天赋，无论他的天赋发展是何等不充分。
对技艺的掌握是天赋的显现，是经过培养的，发展了的和受过训练的天赋。
你的天赋在最原始的层面上起作用。
它的任务就是创造。
它是你的故事的创造者。
第二，将你的小说带进世界的文字是艺术家的工作，它就和一个泥瓦匠的工作一样，有意识、谨慎而实实在在。
天赋正如理解力、记忆力和想象力一样是我们的精神禀赋中的天然部分，而技艺却不是。
它必须通过实践才能学到，并要通过实践才能掌握。
如果要使在我们内心深处浮现的故事跃然纸上，光彩照人，那么，每个故事都须有感染力极强的优雅文笔。
只有健全的技艺才能使我们做到这一点。
一个故事是如何酝酿成的呢？据说，我们从一生中的前二十年，或许前五年起就开始写作。
这可能取决于个人，而写作中的很多事都取决于个人。
英语泛读教程4unit2ThreeDaystoSee课文和译文
---------ThreeDaystoSeebyHelenKellerHelenKeller,blindanddeaffrominfancy,becameasuccessfullecturer,authorandeducatorwith the help of her teacher.In the following essay,she discussed howpeople shouldvaluetheirabilitytosee.All of ushave read thrilling stories in which the hero hadonly alimited andspecified time to live.Sometimesit wasaslong asayear;sometimes asshort astwenty-four hours. But always wewereinterested in discovering just howthe doomedmanchose to spend his lastdaysorhislasthours.Ispeak,ofcourse,offreemenwhohaveachoice,not condemnedcriminalswhosesphereofactivitiesisstrictlydelimited.Suchstoriesset us thinking,wondering what weshoulddounder similarcircumstances. Whatevents,whatexperiences,whatassociationsshould wecrowdinto thoselast hours asmortalbeings?Whathappinessshouldwefindinreviewingthepast,whatregrets?SometimesI havethought itwould beanexcellent rule tolive eachdayas ifwe should dietomorrow.Suchanattitudewouldemphasizesharplythevaluesoflife.Weshouldlive eachdaywith agentleness,avigor,andakeenness of appreciation which are often lost whentime stretches before us in theconstant panoramaof moredays andmonths and yearstocome.Therearethose,of course,whowouldadopt theEpicurean motto of“Eat, drink,andbemerry;”but most peoplewouldbechastened bythe certainty of impending death.Instories,thedoomedherois usually saved at the last minutebysomestroke offortune, butalmostalwayshissenseofvaluesischanged.Hebecomesmoreappreciativeofthe meaningoflifeanditspermanentspiritualvalues.Ithasoftenbeennotedthatthosewholive,orhavelived,intheshadowofdeathbringamellowsweetnesstoeverythingtheydo.Mostof us,however,takelife for granted.Weknowthat onedaywemustdie,but usually wepicturethatdayasfarinthefuture.Whenweareinbuoyanthealth,deathisallbutunimaginable.Weseldomthinkofit.Thedaysstretchoutinanendlessvista.Sowegoaboutourpettytasks,hardlyawareofourlistlessattitudetowardlife.Thesamelethargy,Iamafraid,characterizestheuseofallourfacultiesandsenses. Onlythedeafappreciatehearing,onlytheblindrealizethemanifoldblessingsthatlie in sight.Particularly does this observation apply to those whohavelost sight and hearing in adult life.But those whohavenever suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom makethefullest useof these blessed faculties.Their eyesandears take in all sightsandsoundshazily,withoutconcentration,andwithlittleappreciation.Itisthe sameold story ofnot being grateful for what wehaveuntil welose it,of not being consciousofhealthuntilweareill.Ihaveoftenthoughtit wouldbeablessing ifeachhumanbeing werestricken blind and deafforafewdaysatsometimeduringhisearlyadultlife.Darknesswouldmakehimmoreappreciativeofsight;silencewouldteachhimthejoysofsound. NowandthenIhavetestedmyseeingfriendstodiscoverwhattheysee.RecentlyIwas visitedbyaverygoodfriendwhohadjustreturnedfromalongwalkinthewoods,andIasked her whatshehadobserved.“Nothing in particular,”she replied.I might havebeenincreduloushadInotbeenaccustomedtosuchresponses,forlongagoIbecame convincedthattheseeingseelittle.Howwasit possible,I askedmyself,to walkfor anhour through the woodsandseenothing worthyofnote?Iwhocannotseefindhundredsofthingstointerestmethroughmeretouch.I feel the delicate symmetry of aleaf.I passmyhandslovingly aboutthesmooth skin of asilver birch,or therough shaggybark of apine.Inspring I touch the branches oftreeshopefullyinsearchofabud,thefirstsignofawakeningNatureafterherwinter'ssleep.Ifeelthedelightful,velvetytextureofaflower,anddiscoveritsremarkableconvolutions;andsomethingofthemiracleofNatureisrevealedtome.Occasionally,ifIamveryfortunate,Iplacemyhandgentlyonasmalltreeandfeelthe happy quiver of abird infull song.Iamdelighted to have the cool waterofabrook rushthroughmyopenfingers.Tomealushcarpetofpineneedlesorspongygrassis morewelcomethanthemostluxuriousPersianrug.Tomethepageantofseasonsisa thrillingandunendingdrama,theactionofwhichstreamsthroughmyfingertips. Attimesmyheartcriesoutwithlongingtoseeallthesethings.IfIcangetsomuchpleasurefrommeretouch,howmuchmorebeautymustberevealedbysight.Yet,those whohaveeyesapparentlyseelittle.Thepanoramaofcolourandactionwhichfillstheworldistakenforgranted.Itishuman,perhaps,toappreciatelittlethatwhichwe haveandtolongforthatwhichwehavenot,butitisagreatpitythatintheworld oflightthegiftofsightisusedonlyasamereconvenienceratherthanasameansofaddingfullnesstolife.If I were the president of auniversity Ishould establish acompulsory course in“How toUseYour Eyes”.Theprofessorwouldtrytoshowhispupilshowtheycouldaddjoyto their lives byreally seeing what passesunnoticed before them.Hewould try to awake theirdormantandsluggishfaculties. Supposeyousetyourmindtoworkontheproblemofhowyouwoulduseyourowneyesif youhadonlythreemoredaystosee.Ifwiththeoncomingdarknessofthethirdnight youknewthatthesunwouldneverriseforyouagain,howwouldyouspendthosethree preciousinterveningdays?Whatwouldyoumostwanttoletyourgazerestupon?I,naturally,shouldwantmosttoseethethingswhichhavebecomedeartomethroughmyyears ofdarkness.You,too,wouldwantto let your eyes rest long onthe things that havebecomedear to yousothat you could take the memoryof themwith youinto the night thatloomedbeforeyou. Ishouldwanttoseethepeoplewhosekindnessandgentlenessandcompanionshiphave mademylifeworthliving.FirstIshouldliketogazelonguponthefaceofmydearteacher,Mrs.AnneSullivan Macy,whocameto mewhenIwasachild andopenedthe outer worldtome.Ishouldwantnotmerelytoseetheoutlineofherface,sothatIcouldcherishitinmymemory,buttostudythatfaceandfindinitthelivingevidenceofthe sympathetic tenderness andpatience with whichsheaccomplished the difficult tasks ofmyeducation.Ishouldliketoseeinhereyesthatstrengthofcharacterwhichhasenabledh ertostandfirminthefaceofdifficulties,andthatcompassionforallhumanitywhichshehasre vealedtomesooften.---------Idonotknowwhatitistoseeintotheheartofafriendthroughthat“windowofthe soul”,the eye.Icanonly“see”through myfingertips the outlineof aface.Ican detectlaughter,sorrow,andmanyotherobviousemotions.Iknowmyfriendsfromthefeeloftheirfaces.ButIcannotreallypicturetheirpersonalitiesbytouch.Iknowtheir personalities,of course,through other means,throughthe thoughts they express tome,throughwhatever of their actions are revealed to me.ButI amdenied that deeper understanding ofthemwhichIamsurewould comethrough sight of themthrough watching theirreactionstovariousexpressedthoughtsandcircumstances,throughnotingthe immediateandfleetingreactionsoftheireyesandcountenance.Friends whoare nearto meIknowwell,because through themonths andyears they reveal themselvestomeinalltheirphases;butofcausalfriendsIhaveonlyanincompleteimpression,animpressiongainedfromahandclasp,fromspokenwordswhichItakefrom theirlipswithmyfingertips,orwhichtheytapintothepalmofmyhand.Howmucheasier,howmuchmoresatisfyingitisforyouwhocanseetograspquicklytheessential qualities of anotherpersonbywatching thesubtleties ofexpression,the quiverofamuscle,theflutterofahand.Butdoesiteveroccurtoyoutouseyoursight to seeinto the inner nature ofafriend oracquaintance?Donotmost of youseeing peoplegraspcasuallytheoutwardfeaturesofafaceandletitgoatthat?Forinstance,canyoudescribeaccuratelythefacesoffivegoodfriends?Someofyoucan,but manycannot.Asanexperiment,Ihavequestioned husbandsoflongstanding about thecoloroftheirwives'eyes,andoftentheyexpressembarrassedconfusionandadmitthat theydonot know.And,incidentally,it is achronic complaint ofwives that their husbandsdonotnoticenewdresses,newhats,andchangesinhouseholdarrangements.Theeyes of seeingpersons soonbecomeaccustomedtothe routine oftheir surroundings, andtheyactuallyseeonlythestartlingandspectacular.Buteveninviewingthemost spectacularsightstheeyesarelazy.Courtrecordsrevealeverydayhowinaccurately“eyewitnesses”see.Agiveneventwillbe“seen”in severaldifferentwaysbyas manywitnesses.Someseemorethanothers,butfewseeeverythingthatiswithintherangeoftheirvision.Oh,thethingsthatIshouldseeifIhadthepowerofsightforjustthreedays!(1634words)译文假如我有三天光明海伦·凯勒作家及教育家。
大学英语泛读教程第四册全文翻译
Unit 1Text天才与工匠许多人羡慕作家们的精彩小说，但却很少有人知道作家们是如何辛勤笔耕才使一篇小说问世的。
以下的短文将讨论小说的酝酿过程，以及作家是如何将这小说雕琢成一件精致完美的艺术品。
1.有一次，我在暮色中来到小树林边一棵鲜花盛开的小桃树前。
我久久站在那里凝视着，直到最后一道光线消逝。
我看不到那树原先的模样，看不见曾穿透果核，能崩碎你的牙齿的力量，也看不到那使它与橡树和绿草相区别的原则。
显现在我面前的，是一种深邃而神秘的魅力。
2. 当读者读到一部杰出的小说时，他也会这样如痴如狂，欲将小说字字句句刻骨铭心，不提出任何问题。
3.但即使是个初学写作者也知道，除那将小说带到世上的文字之外，还有更多的构成小说生命的因素，小说的生命并不始于写作，而始于内心深处的构思。
4. 要创作出有独创性的作品，并不要求懂得创造的功能。
多少世纪以来的艺术、哲学及科学创造都出自人们的头脑，而创造者也许从未想到去关注创造的内在过程。
然而，在我看来，对创造工作一定程度的了解，至少会使我们通过知道两个事实，增长我们处理正在出现的故事的智慧。
5. 首先，天赋不是掌握了技艺的艺术家独有的特性，而是人脑的创造性功能。
不仅所有对技艺的掌握都含有天赋，而且每个人都具有天赋，无论他的天赋发展是何等不充分。
对技艺的掌握是天赋的显现，是经过培养的，发展了的和受过训练的天赋。
你的天赋在最原始的层面上起作用。
它的任务就是创造。
它是你的故事的创造者。
6. 第二，将你的小说带进世界的文字是艺术家的工作，它就和一个泥瓦匠的工作一样，有意识、谨慎而实实在在。
天赋正如理解力、记忆力和想象力一样是我们的精神禀赋中的天然部分，而技艺却不是。
它必须通过实践才能学到，并要通过实践才能掌握。
如果要使在我们内心深处浮现的故事跃然纸上，光彩照人，那么，每个故事都须有感染力极强的优雅文笔。
英语泛读教程4__课文翻译
第一单元第一篇"Good words cost nothing, but are worth much,"said Thomas Fuller,the 17th century British scholar.“良言不费分文,但价值甚大,”托马斯说丰满,17th世纪英国学者。
They serve to give encouragement and smooth away differences and misunderstandings, as this article explains.他们服役给予鼓励和克服差异和误解,因为这篇文章解释了。
"Maybe when I'm a hundred,I'll get used to having everything I do taken for granted,"a young homemaker confided to her neighbor.“也许当我一百岁时,我就会习惯吃我做的一切视为理所当然,”一个年轻的家庭主妇被任命她的邻居。
"If Bill would compliment me once in a while, he'd make my life much happier."“如果法案恭维我,偶尔也好,他会使我的生活更幸福。
”Few of us realize how much we need encouragement.我们很少有人意识到我们是多么需要鼓励的。
Yet we must bask in the warmth of approval now and then or lose our self-confidence.但是我们仍然必须沐浴在温暖的批准,否则现在失去自己的自信。
All of us need to feel needed and admired.我们都需要去感觉需要和赞赏。
英语泛读教程4unit-2-Three-Days-to-See课文和译文
Three Days to Seeby Helen KellerHelen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher. In the following essay, she discussed how people should value their ability to see.All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets? Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and yea rs to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry;” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might havebeen incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of colour and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in “How to Use Your Eyes”. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.Suppose you set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult tasks of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that “window of the soul”, the eye. I can only “see” through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of causal friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements. The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately “eyewitnesses” see. A given event will be “seen” in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!(1634 words)译文假如我有三天光明海伦·凯勒海伦·凯勒自幼就又盲又聋，在老师的帮助下成为一名成功的讲师、作家及教育家。
英语泛读教程4unit 2 Three Days to See课文和译文
Three Days to See 之袁州冬雪创作by Helen KellerHelen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher. In the following essay, she discussed how people should value their ability to see.All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry;” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are inbuoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life. The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life.Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealedto me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of colour and action whichfills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in “How to U se YourEyes”. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties. Suppose you set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyesrest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne SullivanMacy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I couldcherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult tasks of my education. I should liketo see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that “window of the soul”, the eye.I can only “see” through my finger tips theoutline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which Iam sure would come through sight of them through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of causal friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements.The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately “eyewitnesses” see. A given event will be “seen” in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!(1634 words)译文假如我有三天光明海伦·凯勒海伦·凯勒自幼就又盲又聋，在教师的帮忙下成为一名成功的讲师、作家及教导家.在这篇文章里，海伦·凯勒讨论了人们应该怎样珍惜自己的视觉才能我们大家都读过这样一些触目惊心的故事，故事中的主人公能活的时间有限而详细，或长达一年，或短至24小时.但是我们总是感兴趣的是，行将死亡的人毕竟愿意怎样度过他的最后时光.当然，我说的是能停止选择的自由人，而不是活动范围受到严格限制的囚犯.这些故事启迪我们思考，诱发我们想象，当我们处于此类情况时，该怎么做呢？作为凡人，我们在最后的时刻会急于想干些什么，体验些什么，联想些什么呢？回首往事时，我们又能领略到何种欣慰，何种悔恨呢？有时我想，如果我们度过每天时都假定今天即将去世，这会是个极好的准则.这样的处世态度会强烈地突出生命的价值.我们会亲切地、朝气蓬勃地、感受强烈地来度过每天，而这一切却往往在日复一日延续的时光与岁月之中消失.当然，有些人会奉行享乐主义“吃喝玩乐”的信条，但是大多数人则会因死亡就在眼前而心灵得到污染.在故事中，那死神呼唤的主人公通常在最后时刻交上好运而获得拯救，但他的价值观几乎总是发生了变更.他更加珍视生命的意义及其永恒而神圣的价值.人们常常注意到，那些生活在或者曾生活在死亡的阴影下的人，对他们所做的每件事都赋予甜美的色彩.然而，我们中间大多数人则把生命视为天经地义.我们知道，总有一天我们会死去，但通常我们又把那一天想象为遥远的未来.当我们身体健康时，死亡是件不可思议的事，我们几乎不会想到它.岁月无穷，因此我们忙于种种琐事，几乎意识不到我们淡然的生活态度.我们在使用感觉功能时，生怕也持同样的冷淡态度.只有聋者才知道听觉的重要，只有瞽者才懂得视觉给人带来的各种恩赐.这一观点特别适用于那些在成年后才丧失视觉和听觉的人.而那些视觉和听觉从未受到损害的人，则很少充分操纵这些神圣的官能.他们的眼睛和耳朵恍惚地、漫不尽心地、不加欣赏地归入所有的气象和声音.还是那句老话：东西丢失后方知珍贵，直到生病时才情健康.我常常想，如果每个人在刚成年时某个时候能失明或失聪几天，这或许将是件喜事.黑暗将使他更加珍视气象；而寂静则将教他领略声音的欢乐.我不时考一考我的有视力的朋友，以懂得他们看到了什么.最近一位好朋友来看我，她是在林中散步了好一会儿才回来的，我问她观察到了些什么.“没什么特此外东西，”她答道.要不是我对近似的反应已习以为常的话，我是会感觉难以置信的.其实，我早已深信：有视力者所见甚少.我问自己，在林中散步了一个小时而竟未看到什么值得注意的东西，这怎么能够呢？我这个看不见东西的人，仅凭触摸就发现千百种使我感兴趣的东西.我感觉到树叶精美的对称.我用手爱抚着光滑的白烨树皮，或是粗糙的松树皮.春天里，我满怀希望地触摸树枝，寻找一个幼芽——大自然颠末冬日沉睡重又苏醒的最初征兆.我摸着花朵上那心爱的天鹅绒般的质地，以及它那叠合巧妙的花苞，于是我领略到了某种大自然的神奇.偶然，如果十分幸运的话，我把手轻轻搭在一棵小树上，能感到一只小鸟儿纵情欢歌的哆嗦.我非常高兴让清凉的溪水流过我张开的手指.对我来讲，那厚密的松针层或蕃昌松软的草地比豪华的波斯地毯更惬意；对我来讲，四季的幻化多姿宛如一出动人心弦永不尽止的戏剧，它的情节似流水从我指尖缓缓流过.我的心时时在呼号，巴望能见到所有这一切.如果我单靠触摸就可以获得如此多的乐趣，那末通过视觉则能领略到更多美景！可是，那些视觉完好的人显然所见甚少.大千世界的五光十色与千姿百态被认为是天经地义.对已获得的不以为然，而对未获得的却期盼不已，这一点或许是人类的特性，可是，非常遗憾，在光明的世界里，天赐的视觉只被当作一种单纯的方便，而不是一种使生活日益完美的手段. 如果我是大学校长，我就要开设一门必修课，“如何使用你们的眼睛”.传授应极力向学生演示，如何做到真正看见那些从他们眼前不知不觉溜掉的东西，从而为自己的生活增添高兴.他将极力唤醒他们那些昏睡懒惰的感官.假定你在开动脑子研究这一问题：如果你只有三天的视力，你将如何使用你的眼睛呢？如果你知道，当第三天的黑夜到临，太阳就永远不再为你升起，你将如何度过这贵重的三天呢？你最想让你的眼光落在何处？我当然最愿意看的，是那些在我整个失明岁月里对我已变得亲切的东西.你也会想让你的眼光长久地停留在那些对你已变得亲切的东西上，这样你便可以把对它们的记忆带进那悄然而来的漫漫长夜中去.我要看看那些待我仁慈、温和、友好，从而使我的生活变得有价值的人.首先，我要好好地端详我的恩师安·沙利文·梅丝夫人的脸.她在我年幼的时候就离开我身边，替我打开了外部世界.我不但想看她的脸形，以便能把它珍藏在我的记忆中，而且还想细细揣摩这脸容，为她那柔情与耐烦找到活生生的证据，她正是怀着这种柔情与耐烦完成了教导我的艰巨任务.我想在她的眼中看到那种使她坚定地面临各种坚苦的个性的力气，以及那种常常在我眼前吐显露来的对全人类的同情心.我不知道，透过"心灵之窗"，即眼睛，来探视一个朋友的心是怎么回事.我只能通过我的指尖来"看"一张脸的轮廓.我能探察到欢笑、忧伤和许多其他分明的感情.我根据触摸脸庞的感觉来识别朋友，但是我的确不克不及靠触摸来描画出他们的个性.当然，我通过其他手段，通过他们向我表达的思想，通过他们向我表示出的行动来懂得他们的个性.但是，我无法对他们有更深的懂得，因为我确信，要达到这种更深的懂得，必须要目视他们，观察他们对各种所表达的思想及情况所作的反应，寄望他们眼睛里和脸上那种转瞬即逝的反应.我熟悉和我亲近的朋友，因为长年累月他们向我显露了自己的各个方面；然而对于偶然结识的朋友我只有一种不完全的印象，这种印象是仅凭一次握手，一些言语获得的.我用指尖触摸他们的嘴唇，或是靠他们叩击我的手掌而获取这些言语.相比之下，你们这些能看见的人，通过观察神色的微妙变更、肌肉的哆嗦和手的摆动来迅速地掌控他人的实质特点，就容易得多，也使人称心得多.但是，你们可曾想到要用自己的视觉去看破一个朋友或熟人的内涵性格？你们这些有视觉的人中的大多数，不就是随便看到一张脸的外部特征就到此为止了吗？举例来讲，你能准确地描画出五个好朋友的脸形吗？你们中有些人可以，但许多人不成.作为试验，我曾向一些成婚多年的丈夫询问过他们妻子眼睛的颜色，但他们常常表示出尴尬猜疑，承认不知道.顺便提一下，妻子们总是抱怨丈夫不注意她们的新衣服、新帽子以及房间安插中的变更.有视觉的人，眼睛很快就习惯了周围的日常事物，因此他实际上只见到一些惊人的、壮观的气象.但是，哪怕是在看最壮观的场合排场时，他们的眼睛也是懒洋洋的.法院记录天天都标明“目睹者”所见是多么地不准确.某一事件能够被几个目睹者从几个分歧角度“看到”；有些人比他人看得多些，但几乎没有人看到他们视野之内的一切.哦，如果我能有即使仅仅三天的光明，我将能见到多少我想看到的东西啊！。
英语泛读教程4unit-2-Three-Days-to-See课文和译文
Three Days to Seeby Helen KellerHelen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher. In the following essay, she discussed how people should value their ability to see.All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets? Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and yea rs to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry;” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might havebeen incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of colour and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in “How to Use Your Eyes”. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.Suppose you set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult tasks of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that “window of the soul”, the eye. I can only “see” through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of causal friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements. The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately “eyewitnesses” see. A given event will be “seen” in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!(1634 words)译文假如我有三天光明海伦·凯勒海伦·凯勒自幼就又盲又聋，在老师的帮助下成为一名成功的讲师、作家与教育家。
英语泛读教程4unit 2 Three Days to See课文和译文
Three Days to Seeby Helen KellerHelen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher. In the following essay, she discussed how people should value their ability to see.All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets? Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and yea rs to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry;” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might havebeen incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of colour and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in “How to Use Your Eyes”. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.Suppose you set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult tasks of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that “window of the soul”, the eye. I can only “see” through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of causal friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements. The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately “eyewitnesses” see. A given event will be “seen” in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!(1634 words)译文假如我有三天光明海伦·凯勒海伦·凯勒自幼就又盲又聋，在老师的帮助下成为一名成功的讲师、作家及教育家。
英语泛读教程4unit_2_Three_Days_to_See课文和译文
Three Days to Seeby Helen KellerHelen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher. In the following essay, she discussed how people should value their ability to see.All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets? Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of "Eat, drink, and be merry;" but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaningof life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. "Nothing in particular," she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch.I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of colour and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in "How to Use Your Eyes". The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.Suppose you set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult tasks of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that "window of the soul", the eye. I can only "see" through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course,through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of causal friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements.The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately"eyewitnesses" see. A given event will be "seen" in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!<1634 words> 译文假如我有三天光明海伦·凯勒海伦·凯勒自幼就又盲又聋,在老师的帮助下成为一名成功的讲师、作家及教育家。
英语泛读教程4__课文翻译
第一单元第一篇"Good words cost nothing, but are worth much,"said Thomas Fuller,the 17th century British scholar.“良言不费分文,但价值甚大,”托马斯说丰满,17th世纪英国学者。
They serve to give encouragement and smooth away differences and misunderstandings, as this article explains.他们服役给予鼓励和克服差异和误解,因为这篇文章解释了。
"Maybe when I'm a hundred,I'll get used to having everything I do taken for granted,"a young homemaker confided to her neighbor.“也许当我一百岁时,我就会习惯吃我做的一切视为理所当然,”一个年轻的家庭主妇被任命她的邻居。
"If Bill would compliment me once in a while, he'd make my life much happier."“如果法案恭维我,偶尔也好,他会使我的生活更幸福。
”Few of us realize how much we need encouragement.我们很少有人意识到我们是多么需要鼓励的。
Yet we must bask in the warmth of approval now and then or lose our self-confidence.但是我们仍然必须沐浴在温暖的批准,否则现在失去自己的自信。
All of us need to feel needed and admired.我们都需要去感觉需要和赞赏。
英语泛读教程4第三版翻译（全）
1天才与工匠天才与工匠许多人羡慕作家们的精彩小说，但却很少有人知道作家们是如何辛勤笔耕才使一篇小说问世的。
问世的。
以下的短文将讨论小说的酝酿过程，以下的短文将讨论小说的酝酿过程，以下的短文将讨论小说的酝酿过程，以及作家是如何将这小说雕琢成一件精致以及作家是如何将这小说雕琢成一件精致完美的艺术品完美的艺术品 。
有一次，我在暮色中来到小树林边一棵鲜花盛开的小桃树前。
我久久站在那里凝视着，直到最后一道光线消逝。
我看不到那树原先的模样，看不见曾穿透果核，能崩碎你的牙齿的力量，也看不到那使它与橡树和绿草相区别的原则。
显现在我面前的，是一种深邃而神秘的魅力。
而神秘的魅力。
当读者读到一部杰出的小说时，他也会这样如痴如狂，欲将小说字字句句刻骨铭心，不提出任何问题。
提出任何问题。
但即使是个初学写作者也知道，但即使是个初学写作者也知道，除那将小说带到世上的文字之外，还有更多的构成小说除那将小说带到世上的文字之外，还有更多的构成小说生命的因素，小说的生命并不始于写作，而始于内心深处的构思。
生命的因素，小说的生命并不始于写作，而始于内心深处的构思。
要创作出有独创性的作品，并不要求懂得创造的功能。
多少世纪以来的艺术、哲学及科学创造都出自人们的头脑，而创造者也许从未想到去关注创造的内在过程。
然而，在我看来，对创造工作一定程度的了解看来，对创造工作一定程度的了解 ，至少会使我们通过知道两个事实，增长我们处理正在出现的故事的智慧。
正在出现的故事的智慧。
首先，天赋不是掌握了技艺的艺术家独有的特性，而是人脑的创造性功能。
不仅所有对技艺的掌握都含有天赋，而且每个人都具有天赋，无论他的天赋发展是何等不充分。
对技艺的掌握是天赋的显现，是技艺的掌握是天赋的显现，是 经过培养的，发展了的和受过训练的天赋。
你的天赋在最原始的层面上起作用。
它的任务就是创造。
它是你的故事的创造者。
最原始的层面上起作用。
它的任务就是创造。
它是你的故事的创造者。
第二，将你的小说带进世界的文字是艺术家的工作，它就和一个泥瓦匠的工作一样第二，将你的小说带进世界的文字是艺术家的工作，它就和一个泥瓦匠的工作一样 ，有意识、谨慎而实实在在。
- 1、下载文档前请自行甄别文档内容的完整性，平台不提供额外的编辑、内容补充、找答案等附加服务。
- 2、"仅部分预览"的文档,不可在线预览部分如存在完整性等问题,可反馈申请退款(可完整预览的文档不适用该条件!)。
- 3、如文档侵犯您的权益，请联系客服反馈,我们会尽快为您处理(人工客服工作时间：9:00-18:30)。
Unit1天才与工匠许多人羡慕作家们的精彩小说，但却很少有人知道作家们是如何辛勤笔耕才使一篇小说问世的。
以下的短文将讨论小说的酝酿过程，以及作家是如何将这小说雕琢成一件精致完美的艺术品。
有一次，我在暮色中来到小树林边一棵鲜花盛开的小桃树前。
我久久站在那里凝视着，直到最后一道光线消逝。
我看不到那树原先的模样，看不见曾穿透果核，能崩碎你的牙齿的力量，也看不到那使它与橡树和绿草相区别的原则。
显现在我面前的，是一种深邃而神秘的魅力。
当读者读到一部杰出的小说时，他也会这样如痴如狂，欲将小说字字句句刻骨铭心，不提出任何问题。
但即使是个初学写作者也知道，除那将小说带到世上的文字之外，还有更多的构成小说生命的因素，小说的生命并不始于写作，而始于内心深处的构思。
要创作出有独创性的作品，并不要求懂得创造的功能。
多少世纪以来的艺术、哲学及科学创造都出自人们的头脑，而创造者也许从未想到去关注创造的内在过程。
然而，在我看来，对创造工作一定程度的了解，至少会使我们通过知道两个事实，增长我们处理正在出现的故事的智慧。
首先，天赋不是掌握了技艺的艺术家独有的特性，而是人脑的创造性功能。
不仅所有对技艺的掌握都含有天赋，而且每个人都具有天赋，无论他的天赋发展是何等不充分。
对技艺的掌握是天赋的显现，是经过培养的，发展了的和受过训练的天赋。
你的天赋在最原始的层面上起作用。
它的任务就是创造。
它是你的故事的创造者。
第二，将你的小说带进世界的文字是艺术家的工作，它就和一个泥瓦匠的工作一样，有意识、谨慎而实实在在。
天赋正如理解力、记忆力和想象力一样是我们的精神禀赋中的天然部分，而技艺却不是。
它必须通过实践才能学到，并要通过实践才能掌握。
如果要使在我们内心深处浮现的故事跃然纸上，光彩照人，那么，每个故事都须有感染力极强的优雅文笔。
只有健全的技艺才能使我们做到这一点。
一个故事是如何酝酿成的呢？据说，我们从一生中的前二十年，或许前五年起就开始写作。
这可能取决于个人，而写作中的很多事都取决于个人。
无论如何，童年和少年时期的清晰印象，或多或少无条件地存在于我们的记忆中，未被解释，不受约束，而且栩栩如生，永不磨灭。
困惑、徬徨、畏惧、喜悦、辉煌和平庸，在各种程度上以各种形式组合在一起。
这些对往事的印象在心中悸动着。
它们在等待什么？是在等待某种圆满的结果？还是对它们特有的真理的认可？似乎它们的创伤需要切开，隐秘的见解需要表露，发现需要与人分享，苦恼需要承认，这种飘渺的美需要形式。
我们就这样背负着各种任务渡过一生。
时而,一个常常是小小的体验，撬开了记忆之门，抓住了这些虽已年代久远，却依然栩栩如生，呼之欲出的印象。
于是，故事就如种子一般开始萌动。
这种经历人人都有，却鲜为人知。
然而，一旦富有创造力的作家有了这种感受，他就会凝神屏息，专注于此，因为他知道这时故事的种子已经萌发并开始了它自己的生命过程。
就象任何一颗种子，故事的种子有它自己的生长规律，要要经过作家对记忆中的素材进行精心筛选，从潜意识博大精深的阅历宝库中提取故事赖以实现其内在形式的素材。
于是，各种人物，他们的处世风格、气候、时间、地点及各种事物的精髓，都聚集起来。
简而言之，一个世界产生了，有灿烂的星辰，也有形形色色的障碍。
故事就是这样在“隐秘中构思，在思想土壤的最深处神秘地形成，”并不断地缓缓扩展、生长，直到它最终在意识中显现。
就在这意识的门槛上，故事带着希冀的颤栗等待它的文字整体的形成。
天赋创造的功能现已完成了它的使命。
只是到这时，工匠，这位故事的助产士才开始他的工作。
故事完整地呈现，即使有这样的情况，也是罕见的。
罗伯特·弗洛斯特说过，他开始作诗时从不知道这诗最终会是什么样。
而我往往在小说的第一稿几乎完成时才恍然大悟，意识到小说该怎样结尾，或它的中心思想是什么。
有时甚至在写完第二、第三稿，甚至更多稿之后小说才呈现出清晰的轮廓。
多年以前，十月的一个凌晨时分，我遥望小小的人造卫星划出一道弧线匆匆掠过星空。
又过了一段时间，我心中一直萌动的故事呈现出来：一位老人一生在都市中心过着寂寞生活，隐居到一个小海湾边的房子里。
他为那地方的美景和邻人的善良而激动不已，开始感受到那些生活道路将要走尽，由于某种原因从未付出或从未与人分享过任何东西的人们的绝望。
尽管当时心里朦朦胧胧仅有这点感受，我立刻着手第一稿，写道：“波米洛依湾的人们将蓝天奉献给了帕拉蒂先生。
他们将这一切全给了他，每个黎明，一片片雷雨云、一群群飞翔的野鹅和冉冉升起的红色月亮。
”当时我在干什么？我在描绘一个奇怪的才能：而且还有更多奇怪的才能。
接着我升上高空；尔后飞向运行中的万千星辰。
当我写到小说的结尾时，我不禁感到诧异，我开始写第一段时居然对整个小说毫无了解：每一个字都指出方向。
然而，我浑然不知时，我为什么动笔写作？我在干什么？我是在实施工匠的三个功能中的两个：信赖，第二：写作。
不论我的小说会是什么样，我坚信小说的灵性，它的真实性；不论它可能在何时显现，我都坚信它的完整性和它的形式。
在写作中我听任它发展，迎候它的显现。
我在为它的显现提供载体，否则它又怎能显现呢？信赖你的天赋吧，它是你的创造性功能，它的任务就是创造。
因为它在最原始的层面上起作用，因此，它所创造的小说是独一无二的。
这故事完全是你自己的。
没其他人能了解它，也没人能写出它。
这就是一个小说的价值，唯一的价值。
尊重你的创造性功能，依靠它获得智慧：它不是盲目冲动的产物，而是工作的原则。
信赖它，为它感到欣喜，运用它。
这正是培养天赋的奥秘所在，也是真正能力的开端。
信赖并着手写作。
当你开始感到小说急不可待的脉动时，就动笔写作。
如果你对它并不完全了解，就尽你所知去写。
逐个地写你所知道的那部分，要有耐心，不久你就会完全知道你所写的是什么。
假如你写得不好，那就尽你所能去写。
务必竭尽全力，以你当时所能驾驭的全部智慧努力写得明白清晰。
如果能这样做并坚持不懈，你一定能稳步提高。
因为认真踏实的工作可以真正发展智力。
不懈的实践可以真正形成技能，而形成技能就是工匠的第三个任务。
以你最好的文笔尽你所能写每一个故事，每一封信，如果你写日记的话，要这样在日记中记每一件事。
要写好。
要写得有技巧。
要写得优雅，如果你能够的话，要写得完美。
对任何成文的材料都应力求谨慎、真实。
任何低于当时你所能达到的完美程度的文字都谈不上是技艺，而是浅尝輒止的儿戏。
初事写作者总是力图尽量快捷、高效地找到适合他的写作方法，以求省时省力。
谈起方法，我们都知道写作不是教会的，而是学会的。
但是常识——天赋的狡诘的侍女却告诉我们，实际从事写作者象日复一日干着同一工作的管子工、从政者和金银首饰匠一样，谈起他们的工作都很在行。
读作家们所写的书，听作家们所说的话，你就可以发现他们的工作习惯中有许多与自己相同的偏爱和冲动。
你会发现这些不仅是你自己独有的癖好，而往往是从事写作者的性情中特有的，极其重要的几种癖性。
它们对你有利，可以为你所用。
我每天写作四小时，一连写了十年之后，才发表作品。
在写作过程中，我没有老师指导，也没有写作的书籍可供参考。
我花了很长时间才发现了一种写作方法。
多年之后，一位十分优秀的教师说:“要知道，好小说不是写成的而是改成的。
”当时，我沉思着回答说：“是啊！我明白。
但愿早就有人告诉我。
”我处理小说的方法简单而行之有效。
当一个故事在我脑海中呈现出来，当我朦胧地感觉到它的显现，就迅速将它草拟成一个提纲。
不久，也许就在次日，我就通篇重写，这一次不可避免地会加进更多内容并填补很多缺漏。
我总是对小说进行整体处理。
每隔一段时间我就继续重写，再将其搁在一边冷一段时间，然后根据需要反复重写，直到文字流畅、妥贴。
我总是试图用词准确，贴切，就象将湿绸缎紧裹在身上那样，努力使文字简明练达。
目的是有魔力的。
当你以追求卓越为目的而写作时，无论你的工作如何艰辛，它绝不会单调乏味。
不论你的工作成果如何不如人意，只要你不愿裹足不前就绝不是失败。
以这种方式重写不是乏味的苦工而是技艺上的探索。
如果你将小说当作活生生、有灵性的整体来对待，修改就有活力，因为在此过程中有三件事同时发生：第一，你达到了对整个故事的完全了解。
你几乎不能相信，在写第一、第二稿时,你对这个故事的了解是何等不足，直到第四第五稿，你才能领悟到这一点。
它一层层地显示出来；起先不受关注的小事件渐渐变得重要；含混处变得清晰。
在反复阅读的过程中闪过眼前的事物向你跳跃，以引起注意。
对这个故事的彻底理解给了你控制力，而这种控制力使你能将故事写到最好。
因为你知道你在做什么。
彻底了解一个故事也为你了解下一个故事做好了充分的准备。
你在写它的第一稿时就不会再感到困惑或束手无策。
尽管还会有种种缺憾，内容模糊不清或行文粗劣，你仍可以认为这是你写的最好的东西。
你会自信地去修改，确信它会逐步完善，第二，你取得了一种其它任何练习、书籍乃至无论知识如何渊博的老师都所不能给你的技能。
在一次又一次解决情节问题、写作问题的过程中，你学会了如何高效地工作；你学习了新的方法，而最重要的是，你获得了自己的方法。
重读往往宽容写作中的错误，而重写则往往揭示出错误。
不自然地过分炫耀词藻，常常在重写时暴露无遗；你自认为机智含蓄的东西，往往是对难以表述的问题的故意回避。
而这些问题对于故事而言，恰恰是至关重要而务必清晰表述的。
你的判断力和敏感性，由于你被迫面对那一个个枯燥乏味的字眼和粗劣笨拙的段落而变得敏锐起来。
每改进一个句子、一个段落，你都在提高你的技能。
渐渐地，你会看到追求卓越并非空泛的梦想，而是一种可能。
第三，修改是修改，作家的工作是写作。
阅读、听课、与专事写作的作家们交谈都是极为有益的，但它们只在你致力于写作时才有帮助。
修改为脚踏实地的写作指明了目标，而这一目标会给予你终身受益的回报，即不断提高的技能。
修改有助于形成习惯，而世上再也没有比工作的习惯更能激发才智的了。
绝不要强加给你的能力任何限制，也绝不允许任何人这样做。
一旦力求完美成为你的习惯，你就会领悟到杰作并不神秘，也绝非偶然，而是一种生活方式的结果。
Dccbd cbba abcdb ddbaa2. A writer needs creative power in producing good stories. He has tomake painstaking efforts in writing. Creative power needs cultivation and genius alone may not work in creating original stories.3. In most cases a good story is rewritten. But there are writers who think very carefully about the story to be written before they start writing. Careful thinking and rewriting are of the same nature here.Unit3食品大战杰弗里·克卢杰现在,基因改造作物越来越多的，而且成为了我们日常食品的一部分。