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首页 阿拉比英文原文

阿拉比英文原文.doc

阿拉比英文原文

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2017-09-18 0人阅读 举报 0 0 暂无简介

简介:本文档为《阿拉比英文原文doc》,可适用于综合领域

阿拉比英文原文ArabyByJamesJoyceCompleteTextNorthRichmondStreet,beingblind,wasaquietstreetexceptatthehourwhentheChristianBrothers'SchoolsettheboysfreeAnuninhabitedhouseoftwostoreysstoodattheblindend,detachedfromitsneighboursinasquaregroundTheotherhousesofthestreet,consciousofdecentliveswithinthem,gazedatoneanotherwithbrownimperturbablefacesTheformertenantofourhouse,apriest,haddiedinthebackdrawingroomAir,mustyfromhavingbeenlongenclosed,hunginalltherooms,andthewasteroombehindthekitchenwaslitteredwitholduselesspapersAmongtheseIfoundafewpapercoveredbooks,thepagesofwhichwerecurledanddamp:TheAbbot,byWalterScott,TheDevoutCommunicant,andTheMemoirsofVidocqIlikedthelastbestbecauseitsleaveswereyellowThewildgardenbehindthehousecontainedacentralappletreeandafewstragglingbushes,underoneofwhichIfoundthelatetenant'srustybicyclepumpHehadbeenaverycharitablepriestinhiswillhehadleftallhismoneytoinstitutionsandthefurnitureofhishousetohissisterWhentheshortdaysofwintercame,duskfellbeforewehadwelleatenourdinnersWhenwemetinthestreetthehouseshadgrownsombreThespaceofskyaboveuswasthecolourofeverchangingvioletandtowardsitthelampsofthestreetliftedtheirfeeblelanternsThecoldairstungusandweplayedtillourbodiesglowedOurshoutsechoedinthesilentstreetThecareerofourplaybroughtusthroughthedarkmuddylanesbehindthehouses,whereweranthegantletoftheroughtribesfromthecottages,tothebackdoorsofthedarkdrippinggardenswhereodoursarosefromtheashpits,tothedarkodorousstableswhereacoachmansmoothedandcombedthehorseorshookmusicfromthebuckledharnessWhenwereturnedtothestreet,lightfromthekitchenwindowshadfilledtheareasIfmyunclewasseenturningthecorner,wehidintheshadowuntilwehadseenhimsafelyhousedOrifMangan'ssistercameoutonthedoorsteptocallherbrotherintohistea,wewatchedherfromourshadowpeerupanddownthestreetWewaitedtoseewhethershewouldremainorgoinand,ifsheremained,weleftourshadowandwalkeduptoMangan'sstepsresignedlyShewaswaitingforus,herfiguredefinedbythelightfromthehalfopeneddoorHerbrotheralwaysteasedherbeforeheobeyed,andIstoodbytherailingslookingatherHerdressswungasshemovedherbody,andthesoftropeofherhairtossedfromsidetosideEverymorningIlayonthefloorinthefrontparlourwatchingherdoorTheblindwaspulleddowntowithinaninchofthesashsothatIcouldnotbeseenWhenshecameoutonthedoorstepmyheartleapedIrantothehall,seizedmybooksandfollowedherIkeptherbrownfigurealwaysinmyeyeand,whenwecamenearthepointatwhichourwaysdiverged,IquickenedmypaceandpassedherThishappenedmorningaftermorningIhadneverspokentoher,exceptforafewcasualwords,andyethernamewaslikeasummonstoallmyfoolishbloodHerimageaccompaniedmeeveninplacesthemosthostiletoromanceOnSaturdayeveningswhenmyauntwentmarketingIhadtogotocarrysomeoftheparcelsWewalkedthroughtheflaringstreets,jostledbydrunkenmenandbargainingwomen,amidthecursesoflabourers,theshrilllitaniesofshopboyswhostoodonguardbythebarrelsofpigs'cheeks,thenasalchantingofstreetsingers,whosangacomeallyouaboutO'DonovanRossa,oraballadaboutthetroublesinournativelandThesenoisesconvergedinasinglesensationoflifeforme:IimaginedthatIboremychalicesafelythroughathrongoffoesHernamesprangtomylipsatmomentsinstrangeprayersandpraiseswhichImyselfdidnotunderstandMyeyeswereoftenfulloftears(Icouldnottellwhy)andattimesafloodfrommyheartseemedtopouritselfoutintomybosomIthoughtlittleofthefutureIdidnotknowwhetherIwouldeverspeaktoherornotor,ifIspoketoher,howIcouldtellherofmyconfusedadorationButmybodywaslikeaharpandherwordsandgestureswerelikefingersrunninguponthewiresOneeveningIwentintothebackdrawingroominwhichthepriesthaddiedItwasadarkrainyeveningandtherewasnosoundinthehouseThroughoneofthebrokenpanesIheardtherainimpingeupontheearth,thefineincessantneedlesofwaterplayinginthesoddenbedsSomedistantlamporlightedwindowgleamedbelowmeIwasthankfulthatIcouldseesolittleAllmysensesseemedtodesiretoveilthemselvesand,feelingthatIwasabouttoslipfromthem,Ipressedthepalmsofmyhandstogetheruntiltheytrembled,murmuring:`Olove!Olove!'manytimesAtlastshespoketomeWhensheaddressedthefirstwordstomeIwassoconfusedthatIdidnotknowwhattoanswerSheaskedmewasIgoingtoArabyIforgotwhetherIansweredyesornoItwouldbeasplendidbazaarshesaidshewouldlovetogo"Andwhycan'tyou"IaskedWhileshespokesheturnedasilverbraceletroundandroundherwristShecouldnotgo,shesaid,becausetherewouldbearetreatthatweekinherconventHerbrotherandtwootherboyswerefightingfortheircaps,andIwasaloneattherailingsSheheldoneofthespikes,bowingherheadtowardsmeThelightfromthelampoppositeourdoorcaughtthewhitecurveofherneck,litupherhairthatrestedthereand,falling,litupthehandupontherailingAtfelloveronesideofherdressandcaughtthewhiteborderofapetticoat,justvisibleasshestoodatease"It'swellforyou,"shesaid"IfIgo,"Isaid,"Iwillbringyousomething"Whatinnumerablefollieslaidwastemywakingandsleepingthoughtsafterthatevening!IwishedtoannihilatethetediousinterveningdaysIchafedagainsttheworkofschoolAtnightinmybedroomandbydayintheclassroomherimagecamebetweenmeandthepageIstrovetoreadThesyllablesofthewordArabywerecalledtomethroughthesilenceinwhichmysoulluxuriatedandcastanEasternenchantmentovermeIaskedforleavetogotothebazaaronSaturdaynightMyauntwassurprised,andhopeditwasnotsomeFreemasonaffairIansweredfewquestionsinclassIwatchedmymaster'sfacepassfromamiabilitytosternnesshehopedIwasnotbeginningtoidleIcouldnotcallmywanderingthoughtstogetherIhadhardlyanypatiencewiththeseriousworkoflifewhich,nowthatitstoodbetweenmeandmydesire,seemedtomechild'splay,uglymonotonouschild'splayOnSaturdaymorningIremindedmyunclethatIwishedtogotothebazaarintheeveningHewasfussingatthehallstand,lookingforthehatbrush,andansweredmecurtly:"Yes,boy,Iknow"AshewasinthehallIcouldnotgointothefrontparlourandlieatthewindowIleftthehouseinbadhumourandwalkedslowlytowardstheschoolTheairwaspitilesslyrawandalreadymyheartmisgavemeWhenIcamehometodinnermyunclehadnotyetbeenhomeStillitwasearlyIsatstaringattheclockforsometimeand,whenitstickingbegantoirritateme,IlefttheroomImountedthestaircaseandgainedtheupperpartofthehouseThehigh,cold,empty,gloomyroomsliberatedmeandIwentfromroomtoroomsingingFromthefrontwindowIsawmycompanionsplayingbelowinthestreetTheircriesreachedmeweakenedandindistinctand,leaningmyforeheadagainstthecoolglass,IlookedoveratthedarkhousewhereshelivedImayhavestoodthereforanhour,seeingnothingbutthebrowncladfigurecastbymyimagination,toucheddiscreetlybythelamplightatthecurvedneck,atthehandupontherailingsandattheborderbelowthedressWhenIcamedownstairsagainIfoundMrsMercersittingatthefireShewasanold,garrulouswoman,apawnbroker'swidow,whocollectedusedstampsforsomepiouspurposeIhadtoendurethegossipoftheteatableThemealwasprolongedbeyondanhourandstillmyuncledidnotcomeMrsMercerstooduptogo:shewassorryshecouldn'twaitanylonger,butitwasaftereighto'clockandshedidnotliketobeoutlate,asthenightairwasbadforherWhenshehadgoneIbegantowalkupanddowntheroom,clenchingmyfistsMyauntsaid:"I'mafraidyoumayputoffyourbazaarforthisnightofOurLord"Atnineo'clockIheardmyuncle'slatchkeyinthehalldoorIheardhimtalkingtohimselfandheardthehallstandrockingwhenithadreceivedtheweightofhisovercoatIcouldinterpretthesesignsWhenhewasmidwaythroughhisdinnerIaskedhimtogivemethemoneytogotothebazaarHehadforgotten"Thepeopleareinbedandaftertheirfirstsleepnow,"hesaidIdidnotsmileMyauntsaidtohimenergetically:"Can'tyougivehimthemoneyandlethimgoYou'vekepthimlateenoughasitis"MyunclesaidhewasverysorryhehadforgottenHesaidhebelievedintheoldsaying:AllworkandnoplaymakesJackadullboyHeaskedmewhereIwasgoingand,whenItoldhimasecondtime,heaskedmedidIknow"TheArab'sFarewelltohisSteed"WhenIleftthekitchenhewasabouttorecitetheopeninglinesofthepiecetomyauntIheldaflorintightlyinmyhandasIstrodedownBuckinghamStreettowardsthestationThesightofthestreetsthrongedwithbuyersandglaringwithgasrecalledtomethepurposeofmyjourneyItookmyseatinathirdclasscarriageofadesertedtrainAfteranintolerabledelaythetrainmovedoutofthestationslowlyItcreptonwardamongruinoushousesandoverthetwinklingriverAtWestlandRowStationacrowdofpeoplepressedtothecarriagedoorsbuttheportersmovedthemback,sayingthatitwasaspecialtrainforthebazaarIremainedaloneinthebarecarriageInafewminutesthetraindrewupbesideanimprovisedwoodenplatformIpassedoutontotheroadandsawbythelighteddialofaclockthatitwastenminutestotenInfrontofmewasalargebuildingwhichdisplayedthemagicalnameIcouldnotfindanysixpennyentranceand,fearingthatthebazaarwouldbeclosed,Ipassedinquicklythroughaturnstile,handingashillingtoawearylookingmanIfoundmyselfinabighallgirdedathalfitsheightbyagalleryNearlyallthestallswereclosedandthegreaterpartofthehallwasindarknessIrecognizedasilencelikethatwhichpervadesachurchafteraserviceIwalkedintothecentreofthebazaartimidlyAfewpeopleweregatheredaboutthestallswhichwerestillopenBeforeacurtain,overwhichthewordsCaféChantantwerewrittenincolouredlamps,twomenwerecountingmoneyonasalverIlistenedtothefallofthecoinsRememberingwithdifficultywhyIhadcome,IwentovertooneofthestallsandexaminedporcelainvasesandfloweredteasetsAtthedoorofthestallayoungladywastalkingandlaughingwithtwoyounggentlemenIremarkedtheirEnglishaccentsandlistenedvaguelytotheirconversation"O,Ineversaidsuchathing!""O,butyoudid!""O,butIdidn't!""Didn'tshesaythat""YesIheardher""O,there'safib!"Observingme,theyoungladycameoverandaskedmedidIwishtobuyanythingThetoneofhervoicewasnotencouragingsheseemedtohavespokentomeoutofasenseofdutyIlookedhumblyatthegreatjarsthatstoodlikeeasternguardsateithersideofthedarkentrancetothestallandmurmured:"No,thankyou"TheyoungladychangedthepositionofoneofthevasesandwentbacktothetwoyoungmenTheybegantotalkofthesamesubjectOnceortwicetheyoungladyglancedatmeoverhershoulderIlingeredbeforeherstall,thoughIknewmystaywasuseless,tomakemyinterestinherwaresseemthemorerealThenIturnedawayslowlyandwalkeddownthemiddleofthebazaarIallowedthetwopenniestofallagainstthesixpenceinmypocketIheardavoicecallfromoneendofthegallerythatthelightwasoutTheupperpartofthehallwasnowcompletelydarkGazingupintothedarknessIsawmyselfasacreaturedrivenandderidedbyvanityandmyeyesburnedwithanguishandanger

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