时间:2020-03-19 来源:文都网校 浏览: 分享:


      经典名句-英文:The dead do not appear, but we cannot bear the burden of conscience.



      That was what happened. úrsula had the bills taken down, stuck to great cakes of whitewash, and the house was painted white again. "Dear Lord," she begged, "make us poor again the way we were when we founded this town so that you will not collect for this squandering in the other life." Her prayers were answered in reverse. One of the workmen removing the bills bumped into an enormous plaster statue of Saint Joseph that someone had left in the house during the last years of the war and the hollow figure broke to pieces on the floor. It had been stuffed with gold coins. No one could remember who had brought that life-sized saint. "Three men brought it," Amaranta explained. "They asked us to keep it until the rains were over and I told them to put it there in the corner where nobody would bump into it, and there they put it, very carefully, and there it's been ever since because they never came back for it." Later on, úrsula had put candles on it and had prostrated herself before it, not suspecting that instead of a saint she was adoring almost four bundled pounds of gold. The tardy evidence of her involuntary paganism made her even more upset. She spat on the spectacular pile of coins, put them in three canvas sacks, and buried them in a secret place, hoping that sooner or later the three unknown men would come to reclaim them. Much later, during the difficult years of her decrepitude, úrsula would intervene in the conversations of the many travelers who came by the house at that time and ask them if they had left a plaster Saint Joseph there during the war to be taken care of until the rains passed.


      Things like that which gave úrsula such consternation, were commonplace in those days. Macon-do was swamped in a miraculous prosperity. The adobe houses of the founders had been replaced by brick buildings with wooden blinds and cement floors which made the suffocating heat of two o'clock in the afternoon more bearable. All that remained at that time of José Arcadio Buendía's ancient village were the dusty almond trees, destined to resist the most arduous of circumstances, and the river of clear water whose prehistoric stones had been pulverized by the frantic hammers of José Arcadio Segun-do when he set about opening the channel in order to establish a boat line. It was a mad dream, comparable to those of his great-grandfather, for the rocky riverbed and the numerous rapids prevented navigation from Macon-do to the sea. But José Arcadio Segun-do, in an unforeseen burst of temerity, stubbornly kept on with the project. Until then he had shown no sign of imagination. Except for his precarious adventure with Petra Cotes, he had never known a woman. úrsula had considered him the quietest example the family had ever produced in all its history, incapable of standing out even as a handler of fighting cocks, when Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía told him the story of the Spanish galleon aground eight miles from the sea, the carbonized frame of which he had seen himself during the war. The story, which for so many years had seemed fantastic to so many people, was a revelation for José Arcadio Segun-do. He auctioned off his roosters to the highest bidder, recruited men, bought tools, and set about the awesome task of breaking stones, digging canals, clearing away rapids, and even harnessing water-falls. "I know all of this by heart," úrsula would shout. "It's as if time had turned around and we were back at the beginning." When he thought that the river was navigable, José Arcadio Segun-do gave his brother a detailed account of his plans and the latter gave him the money he needed for the enterprise. He disappeared for a long time. It had been said that his plan to buy a boat was nothing but a trick to make off with his brother's money when the news spread that a strange craft was approaching the town. The inhabitants of Macon-do, who no longer remembered the colossal undertakings of José Arcadio Buendía, ran to the riverbank and saw with eyes popping in disbelief the arrival of the first and last boat ever to dock in the town. It was nothing but a log raft drawn by thick ropes pulled by twenty men who walked along the bank. In the prow, with a glow of satisfaction in his eyes, José Arcadio Segun-do was directing the arduous maneuver. There arrived with him a rich group of splendid matrons who were protecting themselves from the burning sun with gaudy parasols, and wore on their shoulders fine silk kerchiefs, with colored creams on their faces and natural flowers in their hair and golden serpents on their arms and diamonds in their teeth. The log raft was the only vessel that José Arcadio Segun-do was able to bring to Macon-do, and only once, but he never recognized the failure of his enterprise, but proclaimed his deed as a victory of will power. He gave a scrupulous accounting to his brother and very soon plunged back into the routine of cockfights. The only thing that remained of that unfortunate venture was the breath of renovation that the matrons from France brought, as their magnificent arts transformed traditional methods of love and their sense of social wellbeing abolished Catarino's antiquated place and turned the street into a bazaar of Japanese lanterns and nostalgic hand organs. They were the promoters of the bloody carnival that plunged Macon-do into delirium for three days and whose only lasting consequence was having given Aureli-ano Segun-do the opportunity to meet Fernanda del Carpio.

      在那些日子里,这一类使马苏娜操心的事是很平常的。马孔多象神话一样繁荣起来。建村者的土房已经换成了砖房,有遮挡太阳的百叶窗,还有洋灰地,这些都有助于忍受下午两点的焕热。能够使人想起从前霍·阿·布恩蒂亚建立的村子的,只有那些落淌尘土的杏树(这些杏树注定要经受最严峻的考验),还有那清澈的河流。霍·阿卡蒂奥第二打算清理河床,在这条河上开辟航道的时候,石匠们疯狂的鳃子已把河里史前巨蛋似的石头砸得粉碎。霍·阿卡蒂奥第二的打算本来是狂妄的梦想,只能跟霍·阿·布恩蒂亚的幻想相比。可是霍·阿卡蒂奥第二突然心血来潮,轻率地坚持自己的计划。在那以前,他是从来没有想入非非的,除了跟佩特娜·柯特短时间的艳遇,他甚至没有邂逅过其他女人。乌苏娜经常认为,在布恩蒂亚家族的整个历史上,这个曾孙子是它所有后代中最没出总的一个,就连在斗鸡场上也出不了风头,可是有一次,奥雷连诺上校向霍。阿卡蒂奥第二谈到了在离海十二公里的地方搁浅的西班牙大帆船,他在战争年代曾经亲眼见过它那烧成木炭的船骨。这个早就认为是虚构的故事,对霍·阿卡蒂奥第二却是个启示,他拍卖了自己的公鸡,临时雇了一些工人,购置了工具,就开始空前未有的工程:砸碎石头,挖掘河道,清除暗礁,甚至平整险滩。“这些我都背熟啦,”乌苏娜叫嚷。“时光好象在打圈子,我们又回到了开始的时候。”霍·阿卡蒂奥第二认为河流可以通航的时候,他就把自己的计划详细地告诉了兄弟,奥雷连诺第二给了他实现计划所需的钱。在这以后,霍。 阿卡蒂奥第二长久消失了踪影。马孔多的人已经在说,买船计划不过是花招,目的是从兄弟身上骗些钱去挥霍,但是突然传说一艘古怪的轮船正在驶近马孔多。马孔多的居民早已忘了霍·阿·布恩蒂亚的伟大创举,这时却奔到河边,难以置信地望着一艘正在靠岸的轮船——这是停泊在马孔多镇的第一艘也是最后一艘轮船。但这不过是巴里萨木扎成的木筏,由二十个男人在岸上用粗绳拖着前进,霍·阿卡蒂奥第二笑盈盈地站在木筏前头,指挥这种复杂的机械动作。跟他一块儿来的还有一大群漂亮的法国艺妓:她们拿花花绿绿的阳伞遮住灼热的阳光,肩上是华丽的丝绸披巾,脸上搽着胭脂和香粉,发上插着鲜花,手上戴着金手镯,牙齿嵌着钻石。巴里萨木筏是霍。 阿卡蒂奥第二能够逆流而上带到马孔多来的唯一的航行工具,并且仅有这么一次;然而,他决不承认他的计划遭到了失败,相反地,甚至宣称自己的行动是人类意志对自然力的伟大胜利。他跟兄弟算清了账,每天又去操心他的斗鸡了。这次失败的创举唯一留下来的,是法国艺妓带到马孔多的新的生活气息,她们那种出色的技艺改变了传统的爱情方式。她们宣传的“社会福利”思想正在排除卡塔林诺游艺场,并且把僻静的小街变成了热闹的市场,市场上吊着中国灯笼,手风琴手奏着悒郁的乐曲。正是这些法国女郎发起了血腥的狂欢节,一连三天使整个马孔多陷入了疯狂的状态,也给奥雷连诺第二提供了认识菲兰达。 德卡皮奥的机会。

      Remedios the Beauty was proclaimed queen. úrsula, who shuddered at the disquieted beauty of her great--granddaughter, could not prevent the choice. Until then she had succeeded in keeping her off the streets unless it was to go to mass with Amaranta, but she made her cover her face with a black shawl. The most impious men, those who would disguise themselves as priests to say sacrilegious masses in Catarino's store, would go to church with an aim to see, if only for an instant, the face of Remedios the Beauty, whose legendary good looks were spoken of with alarming excitement throughout the swamp. It was a long time before they were able to do so, and it would have been better for them if they never had, because most of them never recovered their peaceful habits of sleep. The man who made it possible, a foreigner, lost his serenity forever, became involved in the sloughs of abjection and misery, and years later was cut to pieces by a train after he had fallen asleep on the tracks. From the moment he was seen in the church, wearing a green velvet suit and an embroidered vest, no one doubted that he came from far away, perhaps from some distant city outside of the country, attracted by the magical fascination of Remedios the Beauty. He was so handsome, so elegant and dignified, with such presence, that Pietro Crespi would have been a mere fop beside him and many women whispered with spiteful smiles that he was the one who really should have worn the shawl. He did not speak to anyone in Macon-do. He appeared at dawn on Sunday like a prince in a fairy tale, riding a horse with silver stirrups and a velvet blanket, and he left town after mass.


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