GoodbyeManchuria再见满洲里.doc

附件2：英译汉初赛原文 请将下列文字译为汉语： Good-bye Manchuria别了 满洲里 Countries have a way of turning their worst face toward one who arrives and their loveliest face to one who says good-bye. Often, during a life of reluctant勉强的 and various exile放逐背井离乡, I have found myself alighting下车 着陆 with muffled curses低沉的咒骂 at uninviting destinations无吸引力的；无魅力的 and – a few months or a few years later – leaving the once-loathe spot to the tune心情 of a sound like cracking heartstrings.撕心裂肺 当我们初入某个国度，总是倾向于看见它最糟糕的一面，而在即将离去时却能见证它最为可爱的一面。在历经了各式各样的流离奔波之后，我发现自己通常都是刚下车就开始抱怨所到之处的索然无味，然后在几个月或者几年之后，将要离开这个曾经厌恶的地方时，却又有着撕心裂肺的不舍。 When I arrived in Manchuria two years ago, it was like straying into误入 a nightmare. No train, it seemed to me, had ever inflicted upon使痛苦 给以 its passengers so many frozen draughts冰冷的气流, so many unwashed fellow-travellers平民百姓同路人, such uncomfortable and verminous肮脏的 seats or such a treeless光秃秃的, bladeless, khaki horizon卡其色的地平线. Iced dust blew in吹进来 at every broken window, carping吹毛求疵的 Japanese policemen blew in at every door. I remember I had brought with me Yi, the Korean cook, brought with me almost at random from among the citizens of Seoul – since cooks share with trees, birds, tigers, milch-cows, and Bolsheviks the distinction区别 of being almost absent from the Manchuria-Siberian borders. 两年前，当我刚到满洲里的时候，感觉就像是陷入了一场噩梦。在我看来，似乎没有哪里的火车上有过这样寒冷的气流，以及如此多的底层百姓，还有令人不适的脏兮兮的座椅又或是车窗外那卡其色的光秃秃的地平线。冰冻的尘埃被风吹进每一扇破碎的窗户，吹毛求疵的日本警察拜访了每一户人家。我记得我随身带了个叫“Yi”的朝鲜厨子，是我在汉城人堆里随意找来的。因为满洲西伯利亚边境之处很难找到厨子，就像这里少有树、鸟、老虎、奶牛以及布尔什维克一样。 “This place bad place,” said Yi, crying gently as he thought of his dear over-crowded Seoul. He had mislaid放错了 his hat; this was his invariable始终如一的 practice while travelling, as we afterwards found, and the loss had a profound psychological effect深刻的心理效应 upon him. I have a theory that the tradition of wearing a porcelain瓷器 – or in more recent years horsehairhat马毛织帽 five sizes too small, frailly脆弱的 balanced on the skull头盖骨, somehow inseparably connects the hat with self