Unit 6 A Day's Wait课文翻译大学英语三
大学生活文章-北科大研究生院
Unit 6 A Day's Wait
Ernest
Hemingway
Ernest Hemingway's story is about an
incident that happens between a father and his
son. The small boy's misunderstanding of the
difference in measuring temperature on a
Fahrenheit and a Celsius Scale causes him to
believe that he is drying of a high fever.
However, the father doesn't realize it until
very late that day……
He came into the
room to shut the windows while we were still in
bed and I saw he
looked ill. He was shivering,
his face was white, and he walked slowly as though
it ached
to move.
But
when I came downstairs he was dressed, sitting by
the fire, looking a very sick
and miserable
boy of nine years. When I put my hand on his
forehead I knew he had a
fever.
When the doctor came be took the boy's
temperature.
Downstairs, the doctor
left three different medicines in different
colored capsules
with instruction for giving
them. One was to bring down the fever, another a
purgative,
the third to overcome an acid
condition. The germs of influenza can only exist
in an acid
condition, he explained. He seemed
to know all about influenza and said there was
nothing to worry about if the fever did not go
above one hundred and four degrees. This
was a
light epidemic of flu and there was no danger if
you avoided pneumonia.
Back in the room I
wrote the boy's temperature down and made a note
of the time to
give the various capsules.
areas under his eyes. He lay still in
the bed and seemed very detached from what was
going on.
I read aloud
from Howard Pyle's Book of pirates; but I could
see he was not following
what I was reading.
I sat at the foot of the bed and read
to myself while I waited for it to be time to give
another capsule. It would have been natural
for him to go to sleep, but when I looked up
he was looking at the foot of the bed, looking
very strangely.
After a while he said
to me, don't have to stay in here with me, Papa,
if it
bothers you.
I though perhaps
he was a little lightheaded and after giving him
the prescribed
capsules at eleven o'clock I
went out for a while. It was a bright, cold day,
the ground
covered with a sleet that had
frozen so that it seemed as if all the bare trees,
the bushes,
the cut brush and all the grass
and the bare ground had been varnished with ice, I
took
the young Irish setter for a walk up the
road and along a frozen creek, but it was
difficult
to stand or walk on the glassy
surface and the red dog slipped and slithered and
I fell
twice, hard, once dropping my gun and
having it slide away over the ice.
We flushed
a covey of quail under a high clay bank with
overhanging brush and I
killed two as they
went out of sight over the top of the blank. Some
of the covey lit in trees,
but most of them
scattered into brush piles and it was necessary to
jump on the
ice-coated mounds of brush several
times before they would flush. Coming out while
you
were poised unsteadily on the icy, springy
brush they made difficult shooting and I killed
two, missed five, and started back pleased to
have found a covey close to the house and
happy there were so many left to find on
another day.
At the house they said the boy
had refused to let anyone come into the room.
I went up to him and found him in exactly
the position I had left him, white-faced,
but
with the tops of his cheeks flushed by the fever,
staring still, as he had stared, at the
foot
of the bed.
I took his temperature.
taking it easy,he said
and looked straight ahead, He was evidently
holding
tight onto himself about something.
I sat down and opened the Pirate
book and commenced to read, but I could see he
was not following, so I stooped.
degrees. I've got
a hundred and two.
He had been waiting to die
all day, ever since nine o'clock in the morning.
going to die. That's different
thermometer. On that thermometer thirty-seven is
normal.
On this kind it's ninety-
eight.
we make when we do seventy miles
in the car?
But his gaze at the foot of the
bed relaxed slowly. The hold over himself relaxed
too,
finally, and the next day it was very
slack and he cried very easily at little things
that were
of no importance.
一天的等待
我们还没起床时，走进房间关窗，我注意到他看起来病了。他颤抖着，脸色苍白，走得
很慢，似乎一动就疼。
“怎么了，我的宝贝”
“我头疼”
“你最好回去睡觉。”
“不，我没事”
“你睡觉去，我穿好衣服去看你”
等我下了楼，他已经穿好了衣服，坐在火炉旁，看起来就是
一个病的不轻很痛苦的九
岁男孩。我把手放在他的额头上。知道他在发烧。
“上楼睡觉去，”我说“你病了”
“我没事，”他说。
医生来了，良好了孩子的体温。
“多少度？”我问。
“102”
下了楼
，医生留下了三种不同颜色胶囊的药，并告知如何服用。一种是退烧的，一种
是泻药，另一种是用来去酸
的。流感菌只能在酸性环境中生存，他解释说。他们似乎对流感
无所不知，说如果没烧到104度以上，
就没什么可担心的。这不过是流感轻微症状，如果
避免了肺炎就没有危险。
回到屋里，我写下孩子的温度，记下了服用各种药的时间。
“想让我给你念点什么吗？”
“
恩，如果你愿意，”孩子说，他的脸苍白，眼窝下有黑晕。他静静地躺在床上，对发生
的一切漠不关心。
我大声的朗读着霍华德.派尔的《海盗的故事》，但我看得出他没有在听我读什么。
“你感觉怎么样了，宝贝？”我问他。
“现在还那样，”他说。
我坐在床脚，等着
他服用另一种胶囊，自己看了一会儿书，正常来说，他该入睡了。
可我抬起头时，他正盯着床脚，看上去
很怪异。
“你为什么不睡呢？吃药时我会叫醒你的”
“我宁可醒着。”
过了一会，他对我说，“爸，如果这样打搅你，你不必和我在一起。”
“这不打搅我”
“不是，我是说如果这将打搅你，你不比待着。”
我想或许他有点神志不清，11点钟给他服
过开出的药后，我出去了一会。这是一个晴
朗而寒冷的日子，地上覆盖着雨水结成的冰。看上去好像所有
光秃秃的树，灌木丛，砍下的
树枝，所有的草和空地都用冰漆过似地。我带着那条幼小的爱尔兰猎犬上了
路，沿着一条结
冰的小溪走着，但是站立行走在这玻璃般的路面上真不容易。红毛狗
又是跃又是滑，我重
重的摔倒了两次，一次还摔掉了枪，枪在冰面上滑出老远。
我们从被垂着的树枝掩盖着的一个
高高的土堤下惊起了一群鹌鹑。当它们从堤顶上飞
出来时，我打死了两只，但大部分都飞散进了灌木丛里
。要想惊起这些鹌鹑，得在被冰包裹
着的树丛上跳上好几次。但还没等你在这又滑又有弹性的树丛上站稳
，它们已经飞了出去，
很难击中，我打中两只，五只飞掉了。回去的路上，我很高兴地发现离家不远有一
群鹌鹑，
改日可以再去猎取。
回到家，他们说孩子不让任何人进房间。
我上楼去看
他，发现他还是我离开时的那个姿势，脸苍白，上颊烧得发红，仍象早上
那样盯着床脚。
我量了量他的体温。
“几度”
“大约100度，”我说。102.4度。
“102吧，”他说。
“谁说的？”
“医生。”
“你的温度没什么，”我说“不必害怕”
“我不害怕，”他说，“但我忍不住要想。”
“别想了，”我说，“别紧张”
“我不紧张，”他说，直看着前方，虽然他有心事，但在努力克制着自己。
“把这水喝了”
“你觉得这会有用吗？”
“当然了。”
我坐下来，打开《海盗故事》，开始读起来，但我看得出他没在听，所以我停了下来。
“你觉得我大概什么时候会死？”他问。
“什么”
“大约多长时间我就要死”
“你不会死的，你怎么了？”
“噢，不，我会死的，我听见医生说102度了”
“烧到102度，人不会死的。这话真傻。”
“我知道会的，在法国学校里，伙伴们告诉我，44度人就不能活的，我已经102度了。”
从早上9点起，整天他都在等着死亡。
“可怜的宝贝，”我说，“可怜的宝贝。这就像英里和
公里一样，你不会死的，那是一种
不同的温度计量。用那种计量法37度是正常的温度，这种则是98度
。”
“你肯定吗？”
“绝对肯定，”我说，“这就像英里和公里，你知道乘汽车70英里相当于多少公里？”
“噢，”他说
但是他对床脚的盯视逐渐松弛了下来。他不在控制自
己了。终于，第二天他更加松弛
了，有什么大不了的事情他都会很容易的哭出来。
Unit 6 A Day's Wait
Ernest Hemingway
Ernest Hemingway's story
is about an incident that happens between a father
and his
son. The small boy's misunderstanding
of the difference in measuring temperature on a
Fahrenheit and a Celsius Scale causes him to
believe that he is drying of a high fever.
However, the father doesn't realize it until
very late that day……
He came into the
room to shut the windows while we were still in
bed and I saw he
looked ill. He was shivering,
his face was white, and he walked slowly as though
it ached
to move.
But
when I came downstairs he was dressed, sitting by
the fire, looking a very sick
and miserable
boy of nine years. When I put my hand on his
forehead I knew he had a
fever.
When the doctor came be took the boy's
temperature.
Downstairs, the doctor
left three different medicines in different
colored capsules
with instruction for giving
them. One was to bring down the fever, another a
purgative,
the third to overcome an acid
condition. The germs of influenza can only exist
in an acid
condition, he explained. He seemed
to know all about influenza and said there was
nothing to worry about if the fever did not go
above one hundred and four degrees. This
was a
light epidemic of flu and there was no danger if
you avoided pneumonia.
Back in the room I
wrote the boy's temperature down and made a note
of the time to
give the various capsules.
areas under his eyes. He lay still in
the bed and seemed very detached from what was
going on.
I read aloud
from Howard Pyle's Book of pirates; but I could
see he was not following
what I was reading.
I sat at the foot of the bed and read
to myself while I waited for it to be time to give
another capsule. It would have been natural
for him to go to sleep, but when I looked up
he was looking at the foot of the bed, looking
very strangely.
After a while he said
to me, don't have to stay in here with me, Papa,
if it
bothers you.
I though perhaps
he was a little lightheaded and after giving him
the prescribed
capsules at eleven o'clock I
went out for a while. It was a bright, cold day,
the ground
covered with a sleet that had
frozen so that it seemed as if all the bare trees,
the bushes,
the cut brush and all the grass
and the bare ground had been varnished with ice, I
took
the young Irish setter for a walk up the
road and along a frozen creek, but it was
difficult
to stand or walk on the glassy
surface and the red dog slipped and slithered and
I fell
twice, hard, once dropping my gun and
having it slide away over the ice.
We flushed
a covey of quail under a high clay bank with
overhanging brush and I
killed two as they
went out of sight over the top of the blank. Some
of the covey lit in trees,
but most of them
scattered into brush piles and it was necessary to
jump on the
ice-coated mounds of brush several
times before they would flush. Coming out while
you
were poised unsteadily on the icy, springy
brush they made difficult shooting and I killed
two, missed five, and started back pleased to
have found a covey close to the house and
happy there were so many left to find on
another day.
At the house they said the boy
had refused to let anyone come into the room.
I went up to him and found him in exactly
the position I had left him, white-faced,
but
with the tops of his cheeks flushed by the fever,
staring still, as he had stared, at the
foot
of the bed.
I took his temperature.
taking it easy,he said
and looked straight ahead, He was evidently
holding
tight onto himself about something.
I sat down and opened the Pirate
book and commenced to read, but I could see he
was not following, so I stooped.
degrees. I've got
a hundred and two.
He had been waiting to die
all day, ever since nine o'clock in the morning.
going to die. That's different
thermometer. On that thermometer thirty-seven is
normal.
On this kind it's ninety-
eight.
we make when we do seventy miles
in the car?
But his gaze at the foot of the
bed relaxed slowly. The hold over himself relaxed
too,
finally, and the next day it was very
slack and he cried very easily at little things
that were
of no importance.
一天的等待
我们还没起床时，走进房间关窗，我注意到他看起来病了。他颤抖着，脸色苍白，走得
很慢，似乎一动就疼。
“怎么了，我的宝贝”
“我头疼”
“你最好回去睡觉。”
“不，我没事”
“你睡觉去，我穿好衣服去看你”
等我下了楼，他已经穿好了衣服，坐在火炉旁，看起来就是
一个病的不轻很痛苦的九
岁男孩。我把手放在他的额头上。知道他在发烧。
“上楼睡觉去，”我说“你病了”
“我没事，”他说。
医生来了，良好了孩子的体温。
“多少度？”我问。
“102”
下了楼
，医生留下了三种不同颜色胶囊的药，并告知如何服用。一种是退烧的，一种
是泻药，另一种是用来去酸
的。流感菌只能在酸性环境中生存，他解释说。他们似乎对流感
无所不知，说如果没烧到104度以上，
就没什么可担心的。这不过是流感轻微症状，如果
避免了肺炎就没有危险。
回到屋里，我写下孩子的温度，记下了服用各种药的时间。
“想让我给你念点什么吗？”
“
恩，如果你愿意，”孩子说，他的脸苍白，眼窝下有黑晕。他静静地躺在床上，对发生
的一切漠不关心。
我大声的朗读着霍华德.派尔的《海盗的故事》，但我看得出他没有在听我读什么。
“你感觉怎么样了，宝贝？”我问他。
“现在还那样，”他说。
我坐在床脚，等着
他服用另一种胶囊，自己看了一会儿书，正常来说，他该入睡了。
可我抬起头时，他正盯着床脚，看上去
很怪异。
“你为什么不睡呢？吃药时我会叫醒你的”
“我宁可醒着。”
过了一会，他对我说，“爸，如果这样打搅你，你不必和我在一起。”
“这不打搅我”
“不是，我是说如果这将打搅你，你不比待着。”
我想或许他有点神志不清，11点钟给他服
过开出的药后，我出去了一会。这是一个晴
朗而寒冷的日子，地上覆盖着雨水结成的冰。看上去好像所有
光秃秃的树，灌木丛，砍下的
树枝，所有的草和空地都用冰漆过似地。我带着那条幼小的爱尔兰猎犬上了
路，沿着一条结
冰的小溪走着，但是站立行走在这玻璃般的路面上真不容易。红毛狗
又是跃又是滑，我重
重的摔倒了两次，一次还摔掉了枪，枪在冰面上滑出老远。
我们从被垂着的树枝掩盖着的一个
高高的土堤下惊起了一群鹌鹑。当它们从堤顶上飞
出来时，我打死了两只，但大部分都飞散进了灌木丛里
。要想惊起这些鹌鹑，得在被冰包裹
着的树丛上跳上好几次。但还没等你在这又滑又有弹性的树丛上站稳
，它们已经飞了出去，
很难击中，我打中两只，五只飞掉了。回去的路上，我很高兴地发现离家不远有一
群鹌鹑，
改日可以再去猎取。
回到家，他们说孩子不让任何人进房间。
我上楼去看
他，发现他还是我离开时的那个姿势，脸苍白，上颊烧得发红，仍象早上
那样盯着床脚。
我量了量他的体温。
“几度”
“大约100度，”我说。102.4度。
“102吧，”他说。
“谁说的？”
“医生。”
“你的温度没什么，”我说“不必害怕”
“我不害怕，”他说，“但我忍不住要想。”
“别想了，”我说，“别紧张”
“我不紧张，”他说，直看着前方，虽然他有心事，但在努力克制着自己。
“把这水喝了”
“你觉得这会有用吗？”
“当然了。”
我坐下来，打开《海盗故事》，开始读起来，但我看得出他没在听，所以我停了下来。
“你觉得我大概什么时候会死？”他问。
“什么”
“大约多长时间我就要死”
“你不会死的，你怎么了？”
“噢，不，我会死的，我听见医生说102度了”
“烧到102度，人不会死的。这话真傻。”
“我知道会的，在法国学校里，伙伴们告诉我，44度人就不能活的，我已经102度了。”
从早上9点起，整天他都在等着死亡。
“可怜的宝贝，”我说，“可怜的宝贝。这就像英里和
公里一样，你不会死的，那是一种
不同的温度计量。用那种计量法37度是正常的温度，这种则是98度
。”
“你肯定吗？”
“绝对肯定，”我说，“这就像英里和公里，你知道乘汽车70英里相当于多少公里？”
“噢，”他说
但是他对床脚的盯视逐渐松弛了下来。他不在控制自
己了。终于，第二天他更加松弛
了，有什么大不了的事情他都会很容易的哭出来。