朱自清《匆匆》四个英译文赏析.pdf

2021年1月22日发(作者：桂生芳)







匆匆

---
朱自清

The Flight of Time
---Zhu Ziqing
--- Tr. by
许景城
(Peter Jingcheng Xu)
PhD Candidate, School of English, College of Arts and Humanities, Bangor University, LL57
2DG, UK
燕子去了
，
有再来的 时候
；
杨柳枯了
，
有再青的时候
；
桃花谢了
，有再开

的


时候。但是
，
聪明的
，
你告诉我
，
我们的日子为什么一去不复返呢
？——
是
< br>有人偷了他们罢
：
那是谁
？
又藏在何处呢
？
是他们自 己逃走了罢
：
现在又到
了

哪里呢
？

Gone are swallows, but they
may come back again; withered are willows, but
they may turn green again; fading away are peach blossoms, but they
may flower
again. Now, you my sage would you please tell me, why should our days roll by,
never
to
return?
Are
they
stolen
by
someone?
If
so,
who
could
it
be,
and
where
could he or she hide them? If they run away themselves, where are they now?

我不知道他们给了我多少日子
；
但我的手确乎是渐渐空虚了。在默默里算


着
，
八千多日子已经从我手中溜去
；
像针尖上一滴水滴在 大海里
，
我的日子滴在时间的流里
，
没有声音
，
也没有影< br>

子。我不禁头涔涔而泪潸潸了。


I have no idea of how many days I am granted, but I could feel their weight in my hands
becomes less and less. In contemplation, I count, there are more than eight thousand days
having
slipped
away
through
my
fingers.
Like
a
drop
of
water
falling
off
the
point
of
a
needle
down
to
the
sea,
my
days
are
dripping
into
the
stream
of
time,
soundless,
and
traceless. Aware of this, I feel sweats exuding from my forehead, and tears brimming in my
eyes.


去的尽管去了
，
来的尽管来着
；
去来的中间
，
又怎样地匆匆呢
？
早上我起来的时候
，
小屋里射进两三方斜斜的太

阳。太阳他有脚啊
，
轻轻悄悄地挪移了
；
我也茫茫然跟着旋转。于是
——
洗手的时候
，
日子从水盆里过去
；
吃饭的


时候
，
日子从饭碗里过去
；
默默时
，
便从凝然的双眼前过去。我觉察他去的匆匆了
，
伸出手遮挽 时
，
他又从遮挽着


的手边过去。天黑时
，
我躺 在床上
，
他便伶伶俐俐地从我身上跨过
，
从我脚边飞去了。等我睁开眼和太阳 再见
，
这


算又溜走了一日。我掩着面叹息。但是新来的日子的影儿又开始在叹息里闪过了。



What should be gone will be gone for ever, and what should come will keep coming
for
good.
Between
going
and
coming,
there
is
a
flight
of
time!
When
I
get
up
in
the
morning, the sunshine the slanting sun sheds beams into my room, edging away gently
and
quietly,
as
if
he
is
footed.
Without
awareness,
I
feel
myself
already
echoing
his
revolution. Thus, when I wash my hands, the sink washes away the day. When I have a
meal, the bowl vanishes the day. When I am in contemplation, my gazing eyes feel the
day passing by. When I feel it in a rush, I try to hold it to only find it slipping away from
my outstretched hands. When night falls and I lie on my bed, it swiftly strides over my body and flits past my feet. When I
wake and see the sun again, another day rolls by already. Burying my face in my hands, I heave a sigh, and the new day
begins thrilling through it.


在逃去 如飞的日子里
，
在千门万户的世界里的我能做些什么呢
？
只有徘徊罢了
，
只

有匆匆罢了
；
在八千多日的匆匆里
，
除徘 徊外
，
又剩些什么呢
？
过去的日子如轻烟
，

< br>被微风吹散了
，
如薄雾
，
被初阳蒸融了
；
我留着些什 么痕迹呢
？
我何曾留着像游丝样


的痕迹呢
？
我 赤裸裸来到这世界
，
转眼间也将赤裸裸地回去罢
？
但不能平的
，为什么


偏要白白走这一遭啊
？


Amid the fleeting days, what could I do in the world of hustle and bustle, but roaming

and
sighing
the
flight
of
time?
What
have
I
done
in
the
flight
of
eight
thousand
days,
except
roaming
and
roving?
The
bygone days like wisps of smoke, have been blown away by breezes and like clusters of thin mist, have been evaporated by