【双语翻译】梭罗：AWinterWalk冬日漫步
A Winter Walk
冬日漫步
Henry David Thoreau
亨利·戴维·梭罗
夏济安原译，朱乃长补译
The wind has gently murmured through the blinds, or puffed with feathery softness against the windows, and occasionally sighed like a summer zephyr lifting the leaves along, the livelong night. The meadow-mouse has slept in his snug gallery in the sod, the owl has sat in a hollow tree in the depth of the swamp, the rabbit, the squirrel, and the fox have all been housed. The watch-dog has lain quiet on the hearth, and the cattle have stood silent in their stalls. 
风轻轻地低声吹着，吹过百叶窗，吹在窗上，轻软得好像羽毛一般；有时候数声叹息，几乎叫人想起夏季长夜漫漫和风吹动树叶的声音。田鼠已经舒舒服服地在地底下的楼房中睡着了，猫头鹰安坐在沼地深处一棵空心树里面，兔子、松鼠、狐狸都躲在家里安居不动。看家的狗在火炉旁边安静地躺着，牛羊在栏圈里一声不响地站着。
The earth itself has slept, as it were its first, not its last sleep, save when some street-sign or wood-house door has faintly creaked upon its hinge, cheering forlorn nature at her midnight work – the only sound awake twixt Venus and Mars – advertising us of a remote inward warmth, a divine cheer and fellowship, where gods are met together, but where it is very bleak for men to stand. But while the earth has slumbered, all the air has been alive with feathery flakes descending, as if some northern Ceres reigned, showering her silvery grain over all the fields.
大地也睡着了——这不是长眠，这似乎是它辛勤一年以来的第一次安然入睡。时虽半夜，大自然还是不断地忙着，只有街上商店招牌或是木屋的门轴上，偶然轻轻地发出叽咯的声音，给寂寥的大自然添一些慰藉。茫茫宇宙，在金星和火星之间，只有这些声音表示天地
万物还没有全体入睡——我们想起了远处（就在心里头吧？）还有温暖，还有神圣的欢欣和友朋相聚之乐；可是这种境界是天神们互相往来时才能领略，凡人是不胜其荒凉的。天地现在是睡着了，可是空气中还是充满了生机，鹅片，不断地落下，好像有一个北方的五谷女神，正在我们的田亩上撒下无数银的谷粒。
We sleep, and at length awake to the still reality of a winter morning. The snow lies warm as cotton or down upon the window-sill; the broadened sash and frosted panes admit a dim and private light, which enhances the snug cheer within. The stillness of the morning is impressive. The floor creaks under our feet as we move toward the window to look abroad through some clear space over the fields. 
我们也睡着了，一觉醒来，正是冬天的早晨。万籁无声，雪厚厚地堆着，窗槛上像铺了温暖的棉花或羽绒；窗格子显得加宽了，玻璃上结了冰纹，光线暗淡而隐秘，更加强了屋内的舒适愉快的感觉。早晨的安静咄咄逼人。我们走到窗口——脚下的地板在吱吱地响——挑了一处没有冰霜封住的地方，眺望田野的景。
We see the roofs stand under their snow burden. From the eaves and fences hang stalact
ites of snow, and in the yard stand stalagmites covering some concealed core. The trees and shrubs rear white arms to the sky on every side; and where were walls and fences, we see fantastic forms stretching in frolic gambols across the dusky landscape, as if nature had strewn her fresh designs over the fields by night as models for man’s art.
窗外一幢幢的房子都是白雪盖顶；屋檐下、篱笆上莫不垂垂地挂满了钟乳石似的冰雪；院子里像石笋似站了很多雪柱，雪里藏的是什么东西，却看不出来。大树小树四面八方地伸出白的手臂，指向天空；本来是墙壁和篱笆的地方，形状更是奇特，在昏暗的大地上，它们向左右延伸，如跳如跃，似乎一夜之间，大自然把田野风景重新设计过，好让人间的画师来临摹。
Silently we unlatch the door, letting the drift fall in, and step abroad to face the cutting air. Already the stars have lost some of their sparkle, and a dull, leaden mist skirts the horizon. A lurid brazen light in the east proclaims the approach of day, while the western landscape is dim and spectral still, and clothed in a somber Tartarian light, like the shadowy realms. They are Infernal sounds only that you hear – the crowing of cocks, the
barking of dogs, the chopping of wood, the lowing of kine, all seem to come from Pluto’s barn-yard and beyond the Styx – not for any melancholy they suggest, but their twilight bustle is too solemn and mysterious for earth. 
我们稍稍地拔去了门闩，雪花飘飘，立刻落到屋子里来；走出屋外，寒风迎面扑来，利如刀割。星光已经不那么闪烁光亮，地平线上笼罩了一层沉重晦暗的薄雾。东方露出一种奇幻的古铜的光彩，表示天快要亮了；可是西面的景物，还是模模糊糊，一片幽暗，寂静无声，恍如幽灵，到处阴光闪烁，鬼影憧憧，疑非人间。耳边的声音，也带鬼气——鸡啼狗吠，木柴的砍劈声，牛的低鸣声——这一切都好像是阴阳河彼岸冥王的农场里发出的声音；声音本身并没有特别凄凉之处，只是天未明，这种种活动显得太庄严了，太神秘了，不像人间所有。
The recent tracks of the fox or otter, in the yard, remind us that each hour of the night is crowded with events, and the primeval nature is still working and making tracks in the snow. Opening the gate, we tread briskly along the lone country road, crunching the dry and crisped snow under our feet, or aroused by the sharp clear creak of the wood-sled, ju
st starting for the distant market, from the early farmer’s door, where it has lain the summer long, dreaming amid the chips and stubble; while far through the drifts and powdered windows we see the farmer’s early candle, like a paled star, emitting a lonely beam, as if some severe virtue were at its matins there. And one by one the smokes begin to ascend from the chimneys amidst the trees and snows.
院子里，雪地上，狐狸和水獭所留下的印迹犹新，这使我们想起：即使在冬夜最静寂的时候，自然界生物没有一个钟点不在活动，它们还在雪上留下痕迹。把院子门打开，我们以轻快的脚步，跨上寂寞的乡村公路，雪干而脆，脚踏上去发出破碎的声音；早起的农夫，驾了雪橇，到远处的市场去赶早集市。这辆雪橇一夏天都在农夫的门口闲放着，与木屑稻梗为伍，现在可有了用武之地。它的尖锐、清晰、刺耳的声音，对于早起赶路的人，也有提神醒脑的作用。农舍窗上虽然积雪很多，但是屋里的农夫早把蜡烛点起，孤独的烛光照射出来，像一颗暗淡的星，宛如某种淳朴的美德正在作着晨祷。树际和雪堆之间，炊烟也是一处处地依次从烟囱里开始升起。
We hear the sound of wood-chopping at the farmers’ doors, far over the frozen earth, the
baying of the house-dog, and the distant clarion of the cock – though the thin and frosty air conveys only the finer particles of sound to our ears, with short and sweet vibrations, as the waves subside soonest on the purest and lightest liquids, in which gross substances sink to the bottom. They come clear and bell-like, and from a greater distance in the horizon, as if there were fewer impediments than in summer to make them faint and ragged. The ground is sonorous, like seasoned wood, and even the ordinary rural sounds are melodious, and the jingling of the ice on the trees is sweet and liquid. There is the least possible moisture in the atmosphere, all being dried up or congealed, and it is of such extreme tenuity and elasticity that it becomes a source of delight. The withdrawn and tense sky seems groined like the aisles of a cathedral, and the polished air sparkles as if there were crystals of ice floating in it. As they who have resided in Greenland tell us that when it freezes “the sea smokes like burning turf-land, and a fog or mist arises, called frost-smoke,” which “cutting smoke frequently raises blisters on the face and hands, and is very pernicious to the health.” But this pure, stinging cold is an elixir to the lungs, and not so much a frozen mist as a crystallized midsummer haze, refined and purified by cold.faint