时间:2020-04-10 来源:文都网校 浏览: 分享:


      经典名句-英文:Keep faith is a treasure, should not arbitrarily throw.



      "What a rain!" úrsula said.


      "October," he said.


      When he said it he did not raise his eyes from the first little fish of the day because he was putting in the rubies for the eyes. Only when he finished it and put it with the others in the pail did he begin to drink the soup. Then, very slowly, he ate the piece of meat roasted with onions, the white rice, and the slices of fried bananas all on the same plate together. His appetite did not change under either the best or the harshest of circumstances. After lunch he felt the drowsiness of inactivity. Because of a kind of scientific superstition he never worked, or read, or bathed, or made love until two hours of digestion had gone by, and it was such a deep-rooted belief that several times he held up military operations so as not to submit the troops to the risks of indigestion. So he lay down in the hammock, removing the wax from his ears with a penknife, and in a few minutes he was asleep. He dreamed that he was going into an empty house with white walls and that he was upset by the burden of being the first human being to enter it. In the dream he remembered that he had dreamed the same thing the night before and on many nights over the past years and he knew that the image would be erased from his memory when he awakened because that recurrent dream had the quality of not being remembered except within the dream itself. A moment later, indeed, when the barber knocked at the workshop door, Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía awoke with the impression that he had fallen asleep involuntarily for a few seconds and that he had not had time to dream anything.


      "Not today." he told the barber. "We'll make it on Friday."


      He had a three-day beard speckled with white hairs, but he did not think it necessary to shave because on Friday he was going to have his hair cut and it could all be done at the same time. The sticky sweat of the unwanted siesta aroused the scars of the sores in his armpits. The sky had cleared but the sun had not come out. Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía released a sonorous belch which brought back the acidity of the soup to his palate and which was like a command from his organism to throw his blanket over his shoulders and go to the toilet. He stayed there longer than was necessary, crouched over the dense fermentation that was coming out of the wooden box until habit told him that it was time to start work again. During the time he lingered he remembered again that it was Tuesday, and that José Arcadio Segun-do had not come to the workshop because it was payday on the banana company farms. That recollection, as all of those of the past few years, led him to think about the war without his realizing it. He remembered that Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez had once promised to get him a horse with a white star on its face and that he had never spoken about it again. Then he went on toward scattered episodes but he brought them back without any judgment because since he could not think about anything else, he had learned to think coldly so that inescapable memories would not touch any feeling. On his way back to the workshop, seeing that the air was beginning to dry out, he decided that it was a good time to take a bath, but Amaranta had got there ahead of him. So he started on the second little fish of the day. He was putting a hook on the tail when the sun came out with such strength that the light creaked like a fishing boat. The air, which had been washed by the three-day drizzle, was filled with flying ants. Then he came to the realization that he felt like urinating and he had been putting it off until he had finished fixing the little fish. He went out into the courtyard at ten minutes after four, when he heard the distant brass instruments, the beating of the bass drum and the shouting of the children, and for the first time since his youth he knowingly fell into a trap of nostalgia and relived that prodigious afternoon Of the gypsies when his father took him to see ice. Santa Sofía de la Piedad dropped what she was doing in the kitchen and ran to the door.

      他的胡须已有三天没刮了,跟白头发连接了起来。可他认为不必刮脸,星期五反正要剪发,可以同时刮脸和剪发。在不太舒服的午睡之后,他浑身都是粘搭搭的汗,腋下的疮疤也在发痛。雨停了,可是太阳仍然没有露脸。奥雷连诺上校打了个响嗝,嘴里感到了汤的酸味,这也好象是他的机体发出的命令,要他披上斗篷走进厕所。他在那儿逗留的时间,比需要的时间长久一些;他蹲在茅坑的木箱上,木箱里发出强烈的发酵气味,然后习惯告诉他应该开始工作了。他在厕所里想起,今天是星期二,霍·阿卡蒂奥第二不来作坊,因为星期二是香蕉公司的发薪日。就象最近几年经常忆起往事一样,这时他又不知不觉地想起了战争。他记得,格林列尔多。 马克斯上校有一次答应给他弄一匹额上有颗白星的骏马,但是这个朋友再也不提这件事了。然后,他开始反复思量战争中的一件件事情,可是回忆过去并没有在他心里激起欢乐和悲哀,因为他无法避免去想战争他就学会了平静地想它,不动感情。返回作坊的时候,他发现空气开始变得干燥了,就决定洗澡,可是浴室已被阿玛兰塔占据。于是,他着手做这一天的第二条金鱼。他已给金鱼装上了尾巴,这时太阳突然钻出云层,强烈的阳光仿佛照得周围的一切象旧渔船那样轧轧发响。三天的雨水冲洗过的空气中满是飞蚁。这时上校觉得,他早就想去小便了,可是一直推迟到金鱼做完。下午四点十分,他刚走到院子里,便听到了远处传来的铜管乐器声、大鼓声和孩子们的欢呼声,他从青年时代以来第一次自觉地掉进了怀旧的罗网,重新想起了同吉卜赛人呆在一起的那个奇妙的下午;那时,他父亲是带他去参观冰块的。圣索菲娅·德拉佩德放下厨房里的活儿,跑到门外。

      "It's the circus," she shouted.


      Instead of going to the chestnut tree, Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía also went to the street door and mingled with the bystanders who, were watching the parade. He saw a woman dressed in gold sitting on the head of an elephant. He saw a sad dromedary. He saw a bear dressed like a Dutch girl keeping time to the music with a soup spoon and a pan. He saw the clowns doing cartwheels at the end of the parade and once more he saw the face of his miserable solitude when everything had passed by and there was nothing but the bright expanse of the street and the air full of flying ants with a few onlookers peering into the precipice of uncertainty. Then he went to the chestnut tree, thinking about the circus, and while he urinated he tried to keep on thinking about the circus, but he could no longer find the memory. He pulled his head in between his shoulders like a baby chick and remained motionless with his forehead against the trunk of the chestnut tree. The family did not find him until the following day at eleven o'clock in the morning when Santa Sofía de la Piedad went to throw out the garbage in back and her attention was attracted by the descending vultures.


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