Fog everywhere. Fog up the river, where it flows among green aits and meadows; fog down the river, where it rolls deified among the tiers of shipping and the waterside pollutions of a great (and dirty) city. Fog creeping into the cabooses of collier-brigs; fog lying out on the yards and hovering in the rigging of great ships; fog drooping on the gunwales of barges and small boats. Fog in the eyes and throats of ancient pensioners, wheezing by the firesides of their wards; fog in the stem and bowl of the afternoon pipe of the wrathful skipper, down in his close cabin; fog cruelly pinching the toes and fingers of his shivering little 'prentice boy on deck. Chance people on the bridges peeping over the parapets into a nether sky of fog, with fog all round them, as if they were up in a balloon and hanging in the misty clouds.
到处是雾。雾笼罩着河的上游，在绿色的小岛和草地之间飘荡；雾笼罩着河的下游，在鳞次栉比的船只之间，在这个大（而脏的）都市河边的污秽之间滚动，滚得它自己也变脏了。雾笼罩着厄色克斯郡的沼泽，雾笼罩着肯德郡的高地。雾爬进煤船的厨房；雾躺在大船的帆桁上，徘徊在巨舫的桅樯绳索之间；雾低悬在大平底船和小木船的舷边。雾钻进了格林威治区那些靠养老金过活、待在收容室火炉边呼哧呼哧喘气的老人的眼睛和喉咙里；雾钻进了在密室里生气的小商船船长下午抽的那一袋烟的烟管和烟斗里；雾残酷地折磨着他那在甲板上瑟缩发抖的小学徒的手指和脚趾。偶然从桥上走过的人们，从栏杆上窥视下面的雾天，四周一片迷雾，恍如乘着气球，漂浮在白茫茫的云端。
《荒凉山庄》(Bleak House) 一开始就描写雾，伦敦的覆盖一切、窒息一切的雾。这样的开始为全书定了调子，把我们引进一个乌烟瘴气、窒息人性的阴惨世界。而大法官庭就坐落在雾的中心，雾最浓的地方。它像是黑暗势力的堡垒，浓雾似乎是从它那里喷出来的。
The gold of the summer picture was now grey, the colors mean, the rich soil mud and the river cold.
Thomas Hardy: Tess of the D’Vrbervilles
夏日灿烂的金黄色，现在变成了昏沉的灰色了，天地黯淡了，肥沃的土壤也泥泞了，河水也清冷了。
The seasons came and went and they revolved round Joshua. He was the center of Jennifer’s world. She watched him grow and develop day by day and it was a never-ending wonder as he began to walk and talk and reason.
寒来署去，冬去春来，一年四季仿佛围绕着J旋转。他成了J生活的中心。在她的眼皮底下，他一天天长大起来：看着他蹒跚学步，咿呀学语，逐渐懂事，她天天都感到惊喜不已。
There was no snow, the leaves were gone from the trees, the grass was dead.
天未下雪，但叶落草枯。
Nobody came and went. There was nowhere to come and go. In the solitude of the dark winter nights the stillness was that of eternity.
没有人来人往，因为既无处可来，也无处可往。在孤独、漆黑的冬夜里，万籁俱寂，直如进入了一个永恒的世界。
[ 此贴被睡着的饼干在2011-01-07 17:55重新编辑 ]
