高级英语lesson2原文及其翻译

.*

“Hiroshima! Everybody off!” That must be what the man in the Japanese

stationmaster's uniform shouted, as the fastest train in the world slipped to a stop

in Hiroshima Station. I did not understand what he was saying. First of all, because

he was shouting in Japanese. And secondly, because I had a lump in my throat and

a lot of sad thoughts on my mind that had little to do with anything a Nippon

railways official might say. The very act of stepping on this soil, in breathing this air

of Hiroshima, was for me a far greater adventure than any trip or any reportorial

assignment I'd previously taken. Was I not at the scene of the crime?

The Japanese crowd did not appear to have the same preoccupations that I

had. From the sidewalk outside the station, things seemed much the same as in

other Japanese cities. Little girls and elderly ladies in kimonos rubbed shoulders

with teenagers and women in western dress. Serious looking men spoke to one

another as if they were oblivious of the crowds about them, and bobbed up and

down re-heatedly in little bows, as they exchanged the ritual formula of gratitude

and respect: "Tomo aligato gozayimas." Others were using little red telephones

that hung on the facades of grocery stores and tobacco shops.

"Hi! Hi!" said the cab driver, whose door popped open at the very sight of a

traveler. "Hi", or something that sounds very much like it, means "yes". "Can you

take me to City Hall?" He grinned at me in the rear-view mirror and repeated "Hi!"

"Hi! ’ We set off at top speed through the narrow streets of Hiroshima. The tall

buildings of the martyred city flashed by as we lurched from side to side in

response to the driver's sharp twists of the wheel.

.*

Just as I was beginning to find the ride long, the taxi screeched to a halt, and

the driver got out and went over to a policeman to ask the way. As in Tokyo, taxi

drivers in Hiroshima often know little of their city, but to avoid loss of face before

foreigners, will not admit their ignorance, and will accept any destination without

concern for how long it may take them to find it.

At last this intermezzo came to an end, and I found myself in front of the

gigantic City Hall. The usher bowed deeply and heaved a long, almost musical

sigh, when I showed him the invitation which the mayor had sent me in response

to my request for an interview. "That is not here, sir," he said in English. "The mayor

expects you tonight for dinner with other foreigners or, the restaurant boat. See?

This is where it is.” He sketched a little map for me on the back of my invitation.

Thanks to his map, I was able to find a taxi driver who could take me straight

to the canal embankment , where a sort of barge with a roof like one on a

Japanese house was moored . The Japanese build their traditional houses on boats

when land becomes too expensive. The rather arresting spectacle of little old

Japan adrift adrift amid beige concrete skyscrapers is the very symbol of the

incessant struggle between the kimono and the miniskirt.

At the door to the restaurant, a stunning, porcelain-faced woman in

traditional costume asked me to remove my shoes. This done, I entered one of the

low-ceilinged rooms of the little floating house, treading cautiously on the soft

matting and experiencing a twingeof embarrassment at the prospect of meeting

the mayor of Hiroshima in my socks.

.*

He was a tall, thin man, sad-eyed and serious. Quite unexpectedly, the strange

emotion which had overwhelmed me at the station returned, and I was again

crushed by the thought that I now stood on the site of the first atomic

bombardment, where thousands upon thousands of people had been slainin one

second, where thousands upon thousands of others had lingered on to die in slow

agony .

The introductions were made. Most of the guests were Japanese, and it was

difficult for me to ask them just why we were gathered here. The few Americans

and Germans seemed just as inhibitedas I was. "Gentlemen," said the mayor, "I am

happy to welcome you to Hiroshima."

Everyone bowed, including the Westerners. After three days in Japan, the

spinal column becomes extraordinarily flexible.

"Gentlemen, it is a very great honor to have you her e in Hiroshima."

There were fresh bows, and the faces grew more and more serious each time

the name Hiroshima was repeated.

"Hiroshima, as you know, is a city familiar to everyone,” continued the mayor.

"Yes, yes, of course,” murmured the company, more and more agitated.

"Seldom has a city gained such world renown, and I am proud and happy to

.*

welcome you to Hiroshima, a town known throughout the world for its--- oysters".

I was just about to make my little bow of assent, when the meaning of these

last words sank in, jolting me out of my sad reverie .

"Hiroshima – oysters? What about the bomb and the misery and humanity's

most heinous crime?" While the mayor went on with his speech in praise of

southern Japanese sea food, I cautiously backed away and headed toward the far

side of the room, where a few men were talking among themselves and paying

little attention to the mayor's speech. "You look puzzled," said a small Japanese

man with very large eye-glasses.

"Well, I must confess that I did not expect a speech about oysters here. I

thought that Hiroshima still felt the impact of the atomic impact ."

"No one talks about it any more, and no one wants to, especially, the people

who were born here or who lived through it. "Do you feel the same way, too?"

"I was here, but I was not in the center of town. I tell you this because I am

almost an old man. There are two different schools of thought in this city of oysters,

one that would like to preserve traces of the bomb, and the other that would like

to get rid of everything, even the monument that was erected at the point of

impact. They would also like to demolish the atomic museum."

"Why would they want to do that?"

.*

"Because it hurts everybody, and because time marches on. That is why." The

small Japanese man smiled, his eyes nearly closed behind their thick lenses. "If you

write about this city, do not forget to say that it is the gayest city in Japan, even it

many of the town's people still bear hidden wounds, and burns."

Like any other, the hospital smelled of formaldehyde and ethere . Stretchers

and wheelchairs lined the walls of endless corridors, and nurses walked by carrying

Stretchers instruments, the very sight of which would send shivers down the spine

of any healthy visitor. The so-called atomic section was located on the third floor. It

consisted of 17 beds.

"I am a fisherman by trade. I have been here a very long time, more than

twenty years, "said an old man in Japanese pajamas. “What is wrong with you?”

"Something inside. I was in Hiroshima when it happened. I saw the fire ball.

But I had no burns on my face or body. I ran all over the city looking for missing

friends and relatives. I thought somehow I had been spared. But later my hair

began to fall out, and my belly turned to water. I felt sick, and ever since then they

have been testing and treating me. " The doctor at my side explained and

commented upon the old man's story, "We still hare a handful of patients here who

are being kept alive by constant car e. The other s died as a result of their injuries,

or else committed suicide . "

"Why did they commit suicide?"

.*

"It is humiliating to survive in this city. If you bear any visible scars of atomic

burns, your children will encounter prejudice on the par t of those who do not. No

one will marry the daughter or the niece of an atomic bomb victim. People are

afraid of genetic damage from the radiation." The old fisherman gazed at me

politely and with interest.

Hanging over the patient was a big ball made of bits of brightly colored paper,

folded into the shape of tiny birds. "What's that?" I asked.

"Those are my lucky birds. Each day that I escape death, each day of suffering

that helps to free me from earthly cares, I make a new little paper bird, and add it

to the others. This way I look at them and congratulate myself of the good fortune

that my illness has brought me. Because, thanks to it, I have the opportunity to

improve my character."

Once again, outside in the open air, I tore into little pieces a small notebook

with questions that I'd prepared in advance for inter views with the patients of the

atomic ward. Among them was the question: Do you really think that Hiroshima is

the liveliest city in Japan? I never asked it. But I could read the answer in every eye.

“广岛到了!大家请下车!”当世界上最快的高速列车减速驶进广岛车站并渐渐停稳时，

那位身着日本火车站站长制服的男人口中喊出的一定是这样的话。我其实并没有听懂他在

说些什么，一是因为他是用日语喊的，其次，则是因为我当时心情沉重，喉咙哽噎，忧思

万缕，几乎顾不上去管那日本铁路官员说些什么。踏上这块土地，呼吸着广岛的空气，对

我来说这行动本身已是一套令人激动的经历，其意义远远超过我以往所进行的任何一次旅

.*

行或采访活动。难道我不就是在犯罪现场吗?

这儿的日本人看来倒没有我这样的忧伤情绪。从车站外的人行道上看去，这儿的一切

似乎都与日本其他城市没什么两样。身着和嘏的小姑娘和上了年纪的太太与西装打扮的少

年和妇女摩肩接豫；神情严肃的男人们对周围的人群似乎视而不见，只顾着相互交淡，并

不停地点头弯腰，互致问候：“多么阿里伽多戈扎伊马嘶。”还有人在使用杂货铺和烟草

店门前挂着的小巧的红色电话通话。

“嗨!嗨!”出租汽车司机一看见旅客，就砰地打开车门，这样打着招呼。“嗨”，或者

某个发音近似“嗨”的什么词，意思是“对”或“是”。“能送我到市政厅吗?”司机对着

后视镜冲我一笑，又连声“嗨!”“嗨!”出租车穿过广岛市区狭窄的街巷全速奔驰，我们的

身子随着司机手中方向盘的一次次急转而前俯后仰，东倒西歪。与此同时，这座曾惨遭劫

难的城市的高楼大厦则一座座地从我们身边飞掠而过。

正当我开始觉得路程太长时，汽车嘎地一声停了下来，司机下车去向警察问路。就像

东京的情形一样，广岛的出租车司机对他们所在的城市往往不太熟悉，但因为怕在外国人

面前丢脸，却又从不肯承认这一点。无论乘客指定的目的地在哪里，他们都毫不犹豫地应

承下来，根本不考虑自己要花多长时间才能找到目的地。

这段小插曲后来终于结束了，我也就不知不觉地突然来到了宏伟的市政厅大楼前。当

我出示了市长应我的采访要求而发送的请柬后，市政厅接待人员向我深深地鞠了一躬，然

后声调悠扬地长叹了一口气。

“不是这儿，先生，”他用英语说道。“市长邀请您今天晚上同其他外宾一起在水上

餐厅赴宴。您看，就是这儿。”他边说边为我在请柬背面勾划出了一张简略的示意图。

.*

幸亏有了他画的图，我才找到一辆出租车把我直接送到了运河堤岸，那儿停泊着一艘

顶篷颇像一般日本房屋屋顶的大游艇。由于地价过于昂贵，日本人便把传统日本式房屋建

到了船上。漂浮在水面上的旧式日本小屋夹在一座座灰黄色摩天大楼之间，这一引人注目

的景观正象征着和服与超短裙之间持续不断的斗争。

在水上餐厅的门口，一位身着和服、面色如玉、风姿绰约的迎宾女郎告诉我要脱鞋进

屋。于是我便脱下鞋子，走进这座水上小屋里的一个低矮的房间，蹑手蹑脚地踏在柔软的

榻榻米地席上，因想到要这样穿着袜子去见广岛市长而感到十分困窘不安。

市长是位瘦高个儿的男人，目光忧郁，神情严肃。出人意料的是，刚到广岛车站时袭

扰着我的那种异样的忧伤情绪竟在这时重新袭上心头，我的心情又难受起来，因为我又一

次意识到自己置身于曾遭受第一颗原子弹轰击的现场。这儿曾有成千上万的生命顷刻之间

即遭毁灭，还有成千上万的人在痛苦的煎熬中慢慢死去。

到场的宾客们被互相介绍了一番。他们大多数都是日本人，我也不好开口去问为什么

要请我们来这儿聚会。在场的少数几位美国人和德国人看来也同我一样有些局促不安。

“先生们，”市长开言道，“我很高兴欢迎你们到广岛来。”

大家都开始弯腰鞠躬，连在场的西方人也不例外。只要在日本呆上三天，人的脊椎骨

就会变得特别地柔韧灵活。

“先生们，你们光临广岛是我们的极大荣幸。”

大家又开始鞠躬。随着广岛这一名字的一次次重复，大家的面容变得越来越严肃起来。

“广岛，大家知道，是一座大家都很熟悉的城市，”市长接着说道。

.*

“对，对，当然是这样，”在场的人们低声议论着，脸上的神色越来越不安起来。

“难得有个城市像广岛这样闻名遐迩。我既高兴而又自豪地欢迎诸位来到广岛。令广

岛如此举世闻名的乃是它的——牡蛎。”

我正准备点头对市长的话表示赞同，可就在这时，我突然听明白了刚才这句话末尾几

个字的意义，我的头脑也就随之从忧愁伤感中清醒过来。

“广岛——牡蛎?怎么没提原子弹和这个城市所遭受的灾难以及人类有史以来犯下的

最大的罪恶呢?”

市长还在继续演讲，一个劲儿赞美着日本南方的海味。我蹑手蹑脚地退到屋子的后边，

那儿有几个人在开小会，没怎么理睬市长的演讲。

“您看上去像是心中有什么疑惑未解似的，”一个身材矮小、戴着一副特大眼镜的日

本人对我说道。

“不错，我得承认我真的没有料到在这儿会听到一番关于牡蛎的演说。我原以为广岛

仍未摆脱原子弹灾祸的阴影。”

“没有人再去谈它了，谁都不愿再提了，尤其是在这儿出生的或是亲身经历了那场灾

难的人。”

“你也是这种态度吗?”

“我当时就在这个城市，不过没在市中心。我之所以对您讲起这些，是因为我已差不

.*

多步入老年了。在这个以牡蛎闻名的城市里有两种截然不同的意见，一种主张保存原子弹

爆炸留下的痕迹，另一种则主张销毁一切痕迹，甚至要拆除立于爆炸中心的纪念碑。这一

派人还要求拆掉原子博物馆。”

“你们为什么要这样做呢?”

“因为那些东西使人伤感，因为时代毕竟在前进。”小个子日本人面带微笑，一双眼

睛在厚厚的镜片后面眯成了一条缝。“假如您要描写这座城市的话，千万别忘记告诉人们

这是日本最快乐的城市，尽管这里的市民许多人身上还带着暗伤和明显的灼伤。”※ 和其

他任何一家医院一样，这家医院里也弥漫着甲醛和乙醚的气味。长得看不到尽头的走廊墙

边排列着无数的担架和轮椅，穿廊而过的护士手中都端着镀镍的医疗器械，使得来这儿的

健康人一看便脊背发凉。所谓原子病区设在三楼，共有十七个病床。

“我是以打鱼为生的，在这儿已呆了好久了，二十多年了。”一个身穿日本式睡衣的

老人这样对我说。

“你是受的什么伤?”

“内伤。那场灾难降临时我正在广岛。我看到了原子弹爆炸时的火球，但无论脸上身

上都没有灼伤。我当时满街奔跑着寻找失踪的亲友。我以为自己总算是幸免于难了，但到

后来，我的头发开始脱落，腹内开始出水，并感觉恶心呕吐。打那时起，他们就一直不断

地对我进行体检和治疗。”

站在我身边的大夫对老人的话作了补充说明：“我们这儿还有一些病人是靠不断的护

理医治才得以维持生命的。另有一些病人因伤重不治而死，还有一些自杀身亡。”

.*

“他们干吗要自杀呢?”

“因为在这座城市里苟延残喘是一种耻辱。假如你身上有着明显的原子伤痕，你的孩

子就会受到那些没有伤痕的人的歧视。男人们谁也不愿娶一个原子弹受害者的女儿或侄女

为妻。他们害怕核辐射会造成遗传基因病变。”

那位老渔民彬彬有礼、兴致勃勃地定睛望着我。

他的病床上方悬挂着一个由许多叠成小鸟形状的五颜六色的纸片结成的大纸团。 “那

是什么?”我问道。

“那是我的吉祥鸟。每当我从死神那儿挣脱出来的那一天，每当病痛将我从尘世烦恼

中解放出来的那一天，我都要叠一只新的小纸鸟，加到原有的纸鸟群里去。我就这样看着

这些纸鸟，庆幸病痛给自己带来的好运。因为正是我的病痛使我有了怡养性情的机会。”

从医院出来，我又一次地撕碎了一个小笔记本，那上面记着我预先想好准备在采访原

子病区的病人时提问的一些问题，其中有一个问题就是：你是否真的认为广岛是日本最充

满活力的城市?我一直没问这问题，但我已能从每个人的眼神中体会出这个问题的答案。

Ⅱ .

1)They were so absorbed in their conversation that they seemed not to

pay any attention to the people around them.

4)1 suffered from a strong feeling of shame when I thought of the scene

of meeting the mayor of Hiroshima wearing my socks only.

.*

7)1 was on the point of showing my agreement by nodding when I

suddenly realized what he meant．His words shocked me out my sad dreamy

thinking．

Ⅸ．

1)There is not a soul in the hall．The meeting must have been put off．

2)The book looks very much like a box. (The book looks much the same as

a box. )

3)Sichuan dialect sounds much the same as Hubei dialect. It is sometimes

difficult to tell one from the other.

4)The very sight of the monument reminds me of my good friend who was

killed in the battle.

5)He was so deep in thought that he was oblivious of what his friends

were talking about.

6)What he did had nothing to do with her.

7)She couldn't fall asleep as her daughter's illness was very much on her

mind.

8)I have had the matter on my mind for a long time.

.*

9)He loves such gatherings at which he rubs shoulders with young people

and exchange opinions with them on various subjects.

10)It was only after a few minutes that his words sank in.

11)The soil smells of fresh grass.

12)Could you spare me a few minutes?

13)Could you spare me a ticket?

14)That elderly grey-haired man is a coppersmith by trade.