大学英语第3册课文翻译精编3篇
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大学英语第3册课文翻译1
The Expensive Fantasy of Lord Williams
Tomintoul, Scotland — On Saturday night at The Grouse's Nest, they're still willing to raise a glass or two to “Lord Williams” though now his title prompts laughter. And now they just call him “Tony”。
There are those in this beautiful village in the mountains of Scotland (population, 320) who say they were never quite sureabout Anthony Williams, the soft-spoken, wealthy noble who arrived in 1986 with his well-dressed wife.
And there are others who say their suspicions were aroused over time, as the 55-year-old Mr. Williams, who appeared onweekends turned out in fine suits, bought up property after property, providing such a large injection of cash into the villagethat he single-handedly brought the community back to life.
But no one could have possibly guessed the truth — that the man with endless money and a friendly manner was not a lordat all but a government employee living out a fantasy that he was a Scottish noble and paying for it by stealing funds fromScotland Yard.
About two weeks ago, a regretful Mr. Williams, who had worked for the London police since 1959 and had risen to a￡65,000 a year position as deputy director of finance, was brought into court and sentenced to seven and a half years inprison.
Estimates are that he poured nearly ￡5 million of the stolen money into the village and gave jobs to 43 people. And nowthat he has fallen upon dark days at least some villagers are sticking by him.
“I found him a very charming man, very friendly, considerate — not at all proud,” said Georgie McAllister, 70, themanager of the local museum whose family has been farming the surrounding hills for generations. “It's hard to understandhow a clever person like him could mislead people like that. It's sad. Of course, it did benefit the village. A lot of the propertieswere beautifully restored.”
A few doors down the square, barber Donald Corr sat inside his shop and described how suspicions began to grow. “Everyonewondered where the money was coming from. Why was he spending it in a little place in the mountains? Christ, he wouldn'thave gotten it back in 100 years.”
According to the court, Mr. Williams stole more than ￡8 million over eight years. Most of it came from a secret fund thathad been placed under his sole authority and that was supposed to be used to pay spies and conduct secret activities againstthe Irish Republican Army.
Instead, it went to create one more British lord.
Mr. Williams bought an estate with a fine brick house in England. He bought a beautiful home with white walls and a poolin Spain. He bought noble titles at auctions, spending ￡95,000 to become the Lord of Chirnside, and then adding on 10 moreScottish titles.
But most of all, he sunk his dishonest gains into this village that captured his heart with its fine stone cottages, its centralarea of green grass, green rows of hedges, and its fantastic view of rolling fields and pine forests disappearing into the distancelike the men of an ancient army marching over the horizon.
He bought multiple cottages and fixed them up. He purchased the pub and made it into a fine place to have a glass ofGlenlivet Scotch whiskey, produced only 10 miles (16 kilometers) to the north. And most of all, he bought the run-downGordon Arms Hotel and totally restored it, transforming it from a mess into a glorious first-class hotel with 30 handsomelyfurnished rooms, wood-paneled stairs, false bookshelves with fake leather books and an outstanding restaurant.
“I would offer him three choices of glasses for the restaurant: an average one, a poor one, and fine crystal. Always, he chosethe crystal. Nothing but the best,” said David Abdy, who was chosen by Mr. Williams to manage the construction work andrun the businesses.
Mr. Williams deceived everyone, including Mr. Abdy and including even his own wife, telling them that he inherited themoney from a rich uncle. He was caught because his bank deposits were so large that they were noticed by the bank'smanagement. The bank notified the police, who discovered, to their terrible embarrassment, that the criminal was one oftheir own.
The London police commissioner publicly apologized for poorly supervising his department. Under a hastily madearrangement, the police will sell the properties, but at a substantial financial loss. Mr. Abdy, a 27-year-old businessman,acquired the bulk of the properties for about half a million pounds, obtaining bank loans and striking deals with various peopleto pay only a part of what they are owed by Mr. Williams.
In the only interview he has given since his arrest a year ago, Mr. Williams discussed his motives for the crime with aLondon newspaper: “I discovered this bloody huge amount of money. I went from the need to pay off a few debts to what canonly be described as greed. There is no way to justify it.”
翻译
我哥哥吉米出生时遇上难产，因为缺氧导致大脑受损。两年后，我出生了。
从此以后，我的生活便围绕我哥哥转。
伴随我成长的，是“到外面去玩，把你哥哥也带上。”
不带上他，我是哪里也去不了的。因此，我怂恿邻居的孩子到我家来，尽情地玩孩子们玩的游戏。
我母亲教吉米学习日常自理，比如刷牙或系皮带什么的。
我父亲宅心仁厚，他的耐心和理解使一家人心贴着心。
我则负责外面的事，找到那些欺负我哥哥的孩子们的父母，告他们的状，为我哥哥讨回公道。
父亲和吉米形影不离。
他们一道吃早饭，平时每天早上一道开车去海军航运中心，他们都在那里工作，吉米在那搬卸标有彩色代号的箱子。
晚饭后，他们一道交谈，玩游戏，直到深夜。
他们甚至用口哨吹相同的曲调。
所以，父亲1991年因心脏病去世时，吉米几乎崩溃了，尽管他尽量不表现出来。
他就是不能相信父亲去世这一事实。
通常，他是一个令人愉快的人，现在却一言不发，无论说多少话都不能透过他木然的脸部表情了解他的心事。
我雇了一个人和他住在一起，开车送他去上班。然而，不管我怎么努力地维持原状，吉米还是认为他熟悉的世界已经消失了。
有一天，我问他：“你是不是想念爸爸？”
他的嘴唇颤抖了几下，然后问我：“你怎么看，玛格丽特？他是我最好的朋友。”
接着，我俩都流下了眼泪。
六个月后，母亲因肺癌去世，剩下我一人来照顾吉米。
吉米不能马上适应去上班时没有父亲陪着，因此搬来纽约和我一起住了一段时间。
我走到哪里他就跟到哪里，他好像适应得很好。
但吉米依然想住在我父母的房子里，继续干他原来的工作。我答应把他送回去。
此事最后做成了。
如今，他在那里生活了11年，在许多人的照料下，同时依靠自己生活得有声有色。
他已成了邻里间不可或缺的人物。
如果你有邮件要收，或有狗要遛，他就是你所要的人。
当然，母亲的话没错：可以有一个家，既能容纳他的缺陷又能装下我的雄心。
事实上，关照像吉米这样一个深爱又感激我的人，更加丰富了我的生活，其他任何东西都不能与之相比。
这一点，在9·11灾难后几天更显真切。那天是吉米57岁生日。
我在纽约自己的家里为他举办生日宴会，但是我们家的人都没能来参加，因为交通困难，而且灾难带来的恐惧使他们依然心有余悸。
我邀请了我的好友，请他们来帮忙把宴会弄得热闹些，增加点欢快气氛，没去理会他们多数人在情感上都有些疲惫这一事实。
于是我一反常态，没说“请不要带礼物”，而是向他们喊“请带礼物来”。
我的朋友──吉米认识他们多年了──带来了中意的礼物：乡村音乐CD、一件长袖运动衫、一条有“吉米”字样的皮带、一顶编织的羊毛帽，还有一套牛仔服。
那天晚上，我们先是送礼物，然后是切从他喜欢的面包店里买来的巧克力蛋糕，当然还唱了“生日歌”，否则宴会就不算完整了。
吉米一次次地问：“该切蛋糕了吧？”
等用完餐和送完礼物后，吉米再也控制不住了。
他焦急地等着点上蜡烛，然后在我们“生日快乐”的歌声中，一口长气吹灭了蜡烛。户
然而吉米对我们的努力还是感到不满足。
他纵身跳到椅子上，直挺着身子，双手食指朝天，一边喊一边指挥我们唱歌：“再──来──次！”
我们全力以赴地唱。待我们唱完时，他翘起两个拇指喊道：“好极了！”
本来我们想让他知道，无论世上有多难的事情，总是有人来关心他。
现在反倒是提醒了我们自己。
对于吉米来说，我们唱歌时的爱心，是他心中额外的礼物，但是他原先更想看到的，是别人再次感到快乐。
有如父亲的去世一夜之间改变了吉米的世界，9·11也改变了我们的生活；我们熟悉的世界不复存在了。
但是，当我们为吉米唱歌，相互紧拥，祈祷全球和平时，我们也意识到，朋友、家人间永恒的爱和支持可以让我们克服生活中的任何困难。
吉米以朴素的方式为我们协调了眼前的一切，他做到这一点并不令人吃惊。
吉米的爱可以征服一切，这是任何东西都限制不了的。
时值秋夜，在我的故乡新斯科舍，
小雨淅沥，轻叩锡铁屋顶。我们周末度假寄住的古老小屋，弥漫着一股霉味。
空气寒冷得让人发抖，于是我们点上了富兰克林取暖炉。
我们悠然地喝着热朱古力，接着父亲走向立式钢琴，卷起衬衣袖，伸出一指敲一曲。
他算不上一个钢琴家，可他知道歌中的情、家中的爱。
母亲放下手中的针线活，和他同坐在一条凳子上，然后我哥哥也快缓步走向钢琴。
最后，不太能唱歌却能拉拉小提琴的我也凑热闹唱了一两句。
一向体贴人的父亲说：“你看，你也可以唱的，宝贝。唱得很好。”
我常常记得成长的过程中感受到的温暖、幸福和关爱。
虽然我花了好些年才知道，家人的爱不是凭空产生的。叶
事实上，爱从来就不是凭空产生的，甚至对那些看上去像我父母那样天生充满爱的人来说也一样。
但是，我愿打赌，你必须生活于一个构架之中，方能让爱这一无与伦比的礼物瓜熟蒂落 。
首先，爱需要时间。
也许人们可以一眼看到爱的可能，见面几周后就郑重宣布“我爱你”等等，但是这样的爱，相当于刚开始爬山，而这漫长的爬山之路充满着起起落落。
瓜熟蒂落之爱就像一个有生命的机体。
它跟一棵橡树的生命一样，从土里的一粒种子开始，慢慢地长成几乎无叶的细枝，最后枝繁叶茂、足以遮荫，成就其辉煌。
我们不可调控或者加速其成长所需的年月，相反，我们必须用才智和耐心，始终欣赏相互间的差异，分享彼此的快乐和痛苦。
因此，如果因小怒而离婚，父母孩子相互不信任，在第一次受伤害后中断友谊，或不再相信爱，那是令人痛心的事情。
我们常常未经深思熟虑就向某人说“再见”，结果付出了非常昂贵的感情代价。
我曾经认识一对父子，他们被各自的生活困难困扰，多年来距离越拉越远，结果相互间几乎没话可说，
而相互间没了依靠，他们的生活变得空虚。
儿子大学毕业后的那个夏天，打算开着黄色老卡车到连通全国的双车道公路上周游一番（那时还没有免费高速公路）。
有一天，在准备出发时，他看见父亲沿着繁忙的街道走来。父亲熟悉的脸上带着的孤苦令他震动。
他邀父亲停下来喝杯啤酒。
冲动之下，他说：“来吧，爸爸。让我们一块儿度过一个夏天吧。”
他父亲是个家具推销商。虽然冒着家里生意受损失的大风险，父亲还是跟儿子走了。
他们一道宿营，一道爬山，一道坐在海边，一道探索城市的街道和幽静的乡村。
在他们旅行后不久，他父亲告诉我：“在过去的两个月里，我学到的为父之道比我在我儿子成长的21年的岁月里学到的都多。”
每个人的生活，都应该为爱的人留出空间，为我们爱的人抽出我们认为抽不出的时间是值得的。
我们不应该误导自己，认为我们所爱的人必须像自己一样。
关键是认可和欣赏我们间的差异。
这些差异使得人们之间的关系有了一丝神秘和新奇。
爱也需要另一种更为难得的能力──放手的能力。
在我结婚的头几年，我错误地认为我丈夫应该想时刻和我在一起。
我们第一次去拜访他家时，我发现他们家的人做事时男的和男的在一起，女的与女的在一起。
我公公占了我的位子，坐到前车座我丈夫的旁边。他俩常常一道出去，将我留下和女人们在一起。
我向我丈夫抱怨，让他夹在他所爱的人当中，痛苦不堪。
我婆婆说得好：“和父亲在一起是他生活的一部分；和你在一起是另一部分。你对二者都该感到高兴啊。”
我明白，爱就像根松紧带，在它将你们紧紧拉在一起之前，必须先松开。
爱又像涌来的潮水，一浪过后先退却一点，下一浪才会比前一浪离你的心更近。
最后，爱需要言语来实现。
没有言语，争吵不能得到解决，这样我们就失去了分享自己生活意义的能力。
重要的是承认并表达自己的情感。
这样，我们才能真正使我们自己和我们所爱的人兴高采烈。
爱不是一次性的行为，而是一生的探索。我们总是在这种探索中学习、发现和成长。
一次失败不能毁灭爱，一次亲吻也不能赢得爱。
唯有耐心和理解才能得到爱。
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大学英语第3册课文翻译2
Iron and the Effects of Exercise
Sports medicine experts have observed for years that endurance athletes, particularly females,frequently have iron deficiencies. Now a new study by a team of Purdue University researcherssuggests that even moderate exercise may lead to reduced iron in the blood of women.
"We found that women who were normally inactive and then started a program of moderate exerciseshowed evidence of iron loss," says Roseanne M. Lyle, associate professor at Purdue. Her study of 62formerly inactive women who began exercising three times a week for six months was published in thejournal Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise.
"Women who consumed additional meat or took iron supplements were able to bounce back," shenotes. "But the new exercisers who followed their normal diet showed a decrease in iron levels."Iron deficiency is very common among women in general, affecting one in four female teenagers andone in five women aged 18 to 45, respectively. But the ratio is even greater among active women,affecting up to 80 percent of female endurance athletes. This means, Lyle says, that "too many womenignore the amount of iron they take in"；。 Women of child-bearing age are at greatest risk, since theirmonthly bleeding is a major source of iron loss. Plus, many health-conscious women increase their riskby rejecting red meat, which contains the most easily absorbed form of iron. And because women oftenrestrict their diet in an effort to control weight, they may not consume enough iron-rich food, and areliable to experience a deficiency.
"The average woman takes in only two thirds of the recommended daily allowance for iron," notesanother expert. "For a woman who already has a poor iron status, any additional iron loss from exercisemay be enough to tip her over the edge into a more serious deficiency," notes the expert.
Exercise can result in iron loss through a variety of mechanisms. Some iron is lost in sweat, and, forunknown reasons, intense endurance exercise is sometimes associated with bleeding of the digestivesystem. Athletes in high-impact sports such as running may also lose iron through a phenomenonwhere small blood vessels in the feet leak blood.
There are three stages of iron deficiency. The first and most common is having low iron reserves, acondition that typically has no symptoms. Fatigue and poor performance may begin to appear in thesecond stage of deficiency, when not enough iron is present to form the molecules of blood protein thattransport oxygen to the working muscles. In the third and final stage, people often feel weak, tired, andout of breath — and exercise performance is severely compromised.
"People think that if they're not at the third stage, nothing is wrong, but that's not true," says John L.
Beard, who helped design the Purdue study. "You're not stage 3 until your iron reserves go to zero, andif you wait until that point, you're in trouble."However, most people with low iron reserves don't know they have a deficiency, because traditionalmethods of calculating the amount of iron in blood （by checking levels of the blood protein thattransports oxygen) are not sufficient, Beard states. Instead, it's important to check levels of a differentcompound, which indicates the amount of storage of iron in the blood. While active, child-bearing agewomen are most likely to have low iron stores, he notes, "Men are not safe, especially if they don't eatmeat and have a high level of physical activity." (An estimated 15 percent of male long distance runnershave low iron stores.） Beard and other experts say it's advisable for people in these groups to have ayearly blood test to check blood iron reserves.
If iron levels are low, talk with a physician to see if the deficiency should be corrected by modifyingyour diet or by taking supplements. In general, it's better to undo the problem by adding more iron-rich foods to the diet, because iron supplements can have serious shortcomings. Supplements mayproduce a feeling of wanting to throw up, and may be poisonous in some cases. The best sources of iron,and the only sources of the form of iron most readily absorbed by the body, are meat, chicken, and fish.
Good sources of other forms of iron include dates, beans, and some leafy green vegetables.
"Select breads and cereals with the words 'iron-added' on the label," writes sports diet expert NancyClark. "This added iron supplements the small amount that naturally occurs in grains. Eat these foodswith plentiful Vitamin C (for example, drink orange juice with cereal or put a tomato on a sandwich) toenhance the amount of iron absorbed." Clark also recommends cooking in iron pans, as food can deriveiron from the pan during the cooking process. "The iron content of tomato sauce cooked in an iron potfor three hours showed a striking increase, the level going up nearly 30 times," she writes. And peoplewho are likely to have low iron should avoid drinking coffee or tea with meals, she says, sincesubstances in these drinks can interfere with iron being absorbed into the body.
"Active women need to be a lot more careful about their food choices," sums up Purdue's Lyle. "Ifyou pay attention to warning signs before iron reserves are gone, you can remedy the deficiency beforeit really becomes a problem."
课文翻译
运动医学专家经过多年的观察，发现耐力运动员，特别是女性，经常会缺铁。
普渡大学研究人员进行的一项新的研究表明：即使是适度的锻炼，也可能会降低女性血液中的铁含量。
“我们发现，那些通常不运动的女性一旦开始适度的锻炼，就会出现铁含量下降的迹象，”普渡大学罗斯安妮·M. 莱尔副教授说。
她对62名妇女进行了研究，并将研究结果发表在《体育运动医学与科学》杂志上。这些妇女原先不怎么运动，后来开始了为期6个月、每周3次的锻炼。
莱尔指出：“那些增食肉类食品或服用铁质补剂的女性能够恢复到健康状态。
但突然参加锻炼却仍沿用旧食谱的人则显示出铁含量降低。”
缺铁在女性中是很常见的，每四个十几岁的少女中有一人缺铁，每五个18至45岁的女性中有一人缺铁。
而在积极锻炼的妇女中这一比例更高，女耐力运动员中，缺铁者比例则高达80%。
莱尔说，这意味着 “太多女性忽视了自己摄入的铁含量”。
育龄女性危险最大，因为月经是铁流失的重要原因之一。
此外，许多保健意识太强的女性也很危险，因为她们拒绝食用牛肉或羊肉，而这些肉中含有的铁最易被吸收。
而且，由于女性常常为了控制体重而节食，从而未能摄取足够的含铁丰富的食物，结果可能导致缺铁。
另一名专家指出，“普通女性每天摄入的铁只是应摄入量的三分之二。”
他指出，“对于那些已经缺铁的女性，任何因锻炼而产生的更多铁质流失都足以导致体内缺铁状况的'恶化。”
运动可能通过多种机制导致铁流失。
有些铁随汗液流失。另外，由于某些未知的原因，高强度的耐力运动有时会引起消化系统内出血。
运动员从事跑步之类高强度剧烈运动，也可能会因为足部血管失血的现象而使铁质流失。
缺铁分为三个阶段：
第一也即最常见的阶段，是铁质储量不足。这一阶段一般没有症状。
到了缺铁的第二阶段，就会出现疲倦和力不从心，此时体内已没有足够的铁来形成血蛋白分子，将氧输至运动肌肉。
在第三即最后阶段，人常常感到虚弱、疲乏无力、喘不过气，运动成绩大打折扣。
“人们认为，只要不到第三阶段就不会有什么问题。这种想法是不对的。” 帮助设计普渡大学研究的约翰·L. 比尔德说。
“只有当你的铁储量为零时，你才会进入第三阶段。而你若坐等到这个时候，你的麻烦就大了。”
然而，比尔德指出，大多数铁质储量低的人并未意识到自己缺铁，因为传统的检测血液中铁含量的方法──检验血液中输送氧气的血蛋白的含量──是不够的。
其实，有必要检查血液中另一种混合成分的含量，它可以显示血液中的铁含量。
他还指出，虽然积极锻炼的育龄妇女最有可能铁含量低，“但男性也并非不缺铁，尤其是在他们不吃肉类而又从事高强度的体力活动的情况下。”
（估计有15%的男性长跑运动员铁含量低。）比尔德和其他专家都说，对这些人而言，最好每年验一次血，以测定血液中的铁含量。
如果铁含量低，就要去看医生，以确定是否该通过调整饮食或服用铁质补剂来校正不足。
一般说来，解决问题的最好方法是在食谱中增加含铁丰富的食物，因为铁质补剂可能存在严重缺陷。“服用铁质补剂可能使人想呕吐，有时甚至还会引起中毒。
最好的铁来源，以及唯一最易为身体所吸收的铁来源，是肉、鸡和鱼。
其他较好的铁质来源包括枣、豆类和一些多叶绿色蔬菜。”
“选择那些标有‘加铁’字样的面包和麦片，” 运动营养专家南希·克拉克写道，
“这些增加的铁质补充了谷物中自然含铁量的不足。将这些食物与含有大量维生素C的食物一起食用──比如吃麦片时喝橘子汁，或在三明治内夹上番茄──可以促进铁质吸收。”
克拉克还建议用铁锅烹食，因为烹调过程中食物能从铁锅中吸收铁质。
她写道，“在铁锅内烹煮了3个小时的番茄汁，其铁含量大大提高，增加到原来的30倍左右。” 她说，铁含量可能低的人，吃饭时应避免喝咖啡或饮茶，因为这些饮料中所含的物质会妨碍身体对铁质的吸收。
“运动女性应特别注意选择饮食。”普渡大学的莱尔总结说：
“如果你在铁含量流失之前就注意到了警告信号，你就可以在它真正成为问题之前弥补铁质的不足。”
正如运动能强心、健肺、固骨、强肌一样，运动也能健脑。
对动物的一系列科学研究表明，体育活动对智力的发挥有积极作用。
伊利诺伊大学厄巴纳──尚佩恩分校的大脑科学家威廉·格里诺说，“很明显，运动使大脑受益。”
他对老鼠的研究已经表明运动具有两大功效：高强度体育运动给大脑提供更多的燃料，而技巧性运动则增强大脑神经的联结。依照某些科学家的见解，这种联结能使大脑更好地处理信息。
在一项实验中，实验鼠被分成三组：
第一组在自动轮中跑动，第二组通过一种复杂的越障训练来提高技能，第三组则不做任何运动。
“与跑动的和不运动的老鼠相比，经过越障训练的老鼠的脑神经联结数更多。”格里诺说，
“相比之下，在自动轮中跑动的老鼠，较之其他两组的老鼠，其大脑的血管密度更大。”
他说，学习一种新的舞步和学习一种语言一样，都能促进大脑发展。
如果这种舞蹈还是一种良好的体育运动，则益处加倍。格里诺的另一组实验显示，年轻的大脑尤其能够通过运动来增强能力。这组实验表明，从小就锻炼的老鼠，其大脑的变化最为显著。
他说尽管动物不是人，但依此推断锻炼对老鼠带来的作用同样适用于人类也合乎逻辑。
对人类的研究主要集中在老年人身上。其结果表明，经常锻炼能提高大脑处理信息的速度。
伊利诺伊大学阿瑟·克雷默测量的结果表明，63至82岁不运动的人，在完成为期10周的水上运动课程之后，听音击键的反应加快了。
对照组没有经过锻炼，其反应速度没有提高。
接受运动训练之后，人的反应速度可能会加快，这是因为与衰老有关的机能衰退实际上源于体质下降。
一些科学家推测，除了药物作用和饮食不当等相关因素外，常常归咎于衰老的大脑功能下降实际上可能是不注意保持体育运动带来的一种后果。
亚利桑那州立大学的运动学教授丹尼尔·M. 兰德斯最近发表了1篇文章，对有关运动对大脑影响的科学文献进行了综述。他说：“对老年人来说，锻炼计划对维持大脑功能显得非常重要。”
许多研究表明，经常进行体育锻炼的孩子，在学业上比不活动的同学优秀。
但直到最近，人们还是认为因参加体育运动而获得的学业优势来自于增强的自信、更好的心态，以及运动后所带来的集中注意力的能力。
而现在，一些科学家修正了他们的看法，表示这可能与身体状况有关。
另一名专家皮尔斯·J. 霍华德说，新的研究表明，体育锻炼提高了大脑中某些激发神经细胞生长的化学物质的含量。
因此，那些进行锻炼的人的大脑可能更有能力应付各种智力挑战。
不活动对大脑和身体都可能有负面影响。
“科学家们认识到，心即是身，身即是心，”霍华德评价道。他说，最有益的运动能身心兼顾。
大学英语第3册课文翻译3
Annie Dillard tells of her visit to the Napo River in the heart of the Ecuadorian jungle, one of nature's most unspoiled places. She describes the beauty of the forest and her admiration for the people who live there.
In the Jungle
Annie Dillard
Like any out-of-the-way place, the Napo River in the Ecuadorian jungle seems real enough when you are there, even central. Out of the way of what? I was sitting on a stump at the edge of a bankside palm-thatch village, in the middle of the night, on the headwaters of the Amazon. Out of the way of human life, tenderness, or the glance of heaven?
A nightjar in deep-leaved shadow called three long notes, and hushed. The men with me talked softly: three North Americans, four Ecuadorians who were showing us the jungle. We were holding cool drinks and idly watching a hand-sized tarantula seize moths that came to the lone bulb on the generator shed beside us.
It was February, the middle of summer. Green fireflies spattered lights across the air and illumined for seconds, now here, now there, the pale trunks of enormous, solitary trees. Beneath us the brown Napo River was rising, in all silence; it coiled up the sandy bank and tangled its foam in vines that trailed from the forest and roots that looped the shore.
Each breath of night smelled sweet. Each star in Orion seemed to tremble and stir with my breath. All at once, in the thatch house across the clearing behind us came the sound of a recorder, playing a tune that twined over the village clearing, muted our talk on the bankside, and wandered over the river, dissolving downstream.
This will do, I thought. This will do, for a weekend, or a season, or a home.
Later that night I loosed my hair from its braids and combed it smooth -- not for myself, but so the village girls could play with it in the morning.
We had disembarked at the village that afternoon, and I had slumped on some shaded steps, wishing I knew some Spanish or some Quechua so I could speak with the ring of little girls who were alternately staring at me and smiling at their toes. I spoke anyway, and fooled with my hair, which they were obviously dying to get their hands on, and laughed, and soon they were all braiding my hair, all five of them, all fifty fingers, all my hair, even my bangs. And then they took it apart and did it again, laughing, and teaching me Spanish nouns, and meeting my eyes and each other's with open delight, while their small brothers in blue jeans climbed down from the trees and began kicking a volleyball around with one of the North American men.
Now, as I combed my hair in the little tent, another of the men, a free-lance writer from Manhattan, was talking quietly. He was telling us the tale of his life, describing his work in Hollywood, his apartment in Manhattan, his house in Paris.。.。 "It makes me wonder," he said, "what I'm doing in a tent under a tree in the village of Pompeya, on the Napo River, in the jungle of Ecuador." After a pause he added, "It makes me wonder why I'm going back."
The point of going somewhere like the Napo River in Ecuador is not to see the most spectacular anything. It is simply to see what is there. We are here on the planet only once, and might as well get a feel for the place. We might as well get a feel for the fringes and hollows in which life is lived, for the Amazon basin, which covers half a continent, and for the life that -- there, like anywhere else -- is always and necessarily lived in detail: on the tributaries, in the riverside villages, sucking this particular white-fleshed guava in this particular pattern of shade.
What is there is interesting. The Napo River itself is wide and brown, opaque, and smeared with floating foam and logs and branches from the jungle. Parrots in flocks dart in and out of the light. Under the water in the river, unseen, are anacondas -- which are reputed to take a few village toddlers every year -- and water boas, crocodiles, and sweet-meated fish.
Low water bares gray strips of sandbar on which the natives build tiny palm-thatch shelters for overnight fishing trips. You see these extraordinarily clean people (who bathe twice a day in the river, and whose straight black hair is always freshly washed) paddling down the river in dugout canoes, hugging the banks.
Some of the Indians of this region, earlier in the century, used to sleep naked in hammocks. The nights are cold. Gordon MacCreach, an American explorer in these Amazon tributaries, reported that he was startled to hear the Indians get up at three in the morning. He was even more startled, night after night, to hear them walk down to the river slowly, half asleep, and bathe in the water. Only later did he learn what they were doing: they were getting warm. The cold woke them; they warmed their skins in the river, which was always ninety degrees; then they returned to their hammocks and slept through the rest of the night.
When you are inside the jungle, away from the river, the trees vault out of sight. Butterflies, bright blue, striped, or clear-winged, thread the jungle paths at eye level. And at your feet is a swath of ants bearing triangular bits of green leaf. The ants with their leaves look like a wide fleet of sailing dinghies -- but they don't quit. In either direction they wobble over the jungle floor as far as the eye can see.
Long lakes shine in the jungle. We traveled one of these in dugout canoes, canoes paddled with machete-hewn oars, or poled in the shallows with bamboo. Our part-Indian guide had cleared the path to the lake the day before; when we walked the path we saw where he had impaled the lopped head of a boa, open-mouthed, on a pointed stick by the canoes, for decoration.
This lake was wonderful. Herons plodded the shores, kingfishers and cuckoos clattered from sunlight to shade, great turkeylike birds fussed in dead branches, and hawks hung overhead. There was all the time in the world. A turtle slid into the water. The boy in the bow of my canoe slapped stones at birds with a simple sling, a rubber thong and leather pad. He aimed brilliantly at moving targets, always, and always missed; the birds were out of range. He stuffed his sling back in his shirt. I looked around.
The lake and river waters are as opaque as rainforest leaves; they are veils, blinds, painted screens. You see things only by their effects. I saw the shoreline water heave above a thrashing paichi, an enormous black fish of these waters; one had been caught the previous week weighing 430 pounds. Piranha fish live in the lakes, and electric eels. I dangled my fingers in the water, figuring it would be worth it.
We would eat chicken that night in the village, together with rice, onions and heaps of fruit. The sun would ring down, pulling darkness after it like a curtain. Twilight is short, and the unseen birds of twilight wistful, catching the heart. The two nuns in their dazzling white habits -- the beautiful-boned young nun and the warm-faced old -- would glide to the open cane-and-thatch schoolroom in darkness, and start the children singing. The children would sing in piping Spanish, high-pitched and pure; they would sing "Nearer My God to Thee" in Quechua, very fast. As the children became excited by their own singing, they left their log benches and swarmed around the nuns, hopping, smiling at us, everyone smiling, the nuns' faces bursting in their cowls, and the clear-voiced children still singing, and the palm-leafed roofing stirred.
The Napo River: it is not out of the way. It is in the way, catching sunlight the way a cup catches poured water; it is a bowl of sweet air, a basin of greenness, and of grace, and, it would seem, of peace.
安妮·迪拉德讲述了自己游览厄瓜多尔丛林深处的纳波河的经历。那是大自然遭受人为破坏最少的地区之一。她描述了森林之美以及对生活在那里的土著人的歆慕之情。
在丛林中
安妮·迪拉德
如同所有僻远之地，当你身临其境时，厄瓜多尔丛林深处的纳波河就显得那么真实，甚至有中心要地的感觉。那么僻远之地远离什么呢？夜半时分，在亚马逊河的源头，我坐在一个树墩上，身后是傍水的棕榈叶作屋顶的小村落。远离人类活动，远离脉脉温情。或者说远离天堂的扫视？
一只欧夜鹰在密密的树叶间发出三声长啼，旋即静默无声。和我一起的那些男人轻声交谈着：3个北美人，4个为我们在丛林中带路的厄瓜多尔人。我们手里拿着清凉的饮料，悠闲地看着一只有手那么大小的狼蛛捕捉纷纷扑向我们身旁发电机棚屋上一个灯泡的飞虫。
时值2月，正当仲夏。绿莹莹的萤火虫在空中闪出光亮，一会儿这里照亮一下，一会儿那里照亮一下幽木巨树的暗淡的树干。在我们下方，褐黄色的纳波河水正在涨潮。万籁俱寂：惟见河水沿着沙岸蜿蜒流过，水沫裹挟在蔓生在森林里的藤蔓间以及盘绕岸边的树根上。
夜晚吸入的每口气都沁人心脾。猎户星座里的每一颗星星似乎都因了我的呼吸而颤动。突然，我们身后空地旁的茅屋里，传出了录音机的声音，一首乐曲在村子空地之上缭绕，减弱了我们在河畔谈话的声音，然后又传至河面，随流飘去。
人生遇此情景足矣，我暗想。在此度过周末足以，在此小住数月足以，在此安家足以。
夜半时分，我散开辫子，把头发梳理得平平整整--不是为我自己，而是为了村里那些姑娘早上可以玩我的头发。
我们是那天下午在这个小村上岸的，我垂着头坐在树阴下的踏级上，真希望自己会说几句西班牙语或盖丘亚语，好跟围成一圈的小女孩说说话，她们一会儿看看我，一会儿又低头看着自己的脚趾窃笑。我还是开口了，笑着抚弄自己的头发，她们显然也都非常想碰碰我的头发。没过一会儿，她们就给我编辫子了，她们5个人，50个手指，我是一头辫子，连留海也编成了辫子。她们拆了编，编了拆，一边笑一边教我西班牙语单词，望望我，又相互对望，个个喜形于色，她们那些穿着牛仔服的小弟弟们则纷纷下得树来，跟一个北美人踢排球玩耍。
此刻，我在低矮的帐篷里梳理着头发，另一个北美人，一位来自曼哈顿的自由作家，正在轻声说话。他在向我们讲述他人生的故事，讲述他在好莱坞的工作、在曼哈顿的公寓、在巴黎的家…… “我不由纳闷，”他说，“在厄瓜多尔的丛林里，在纳波河上，在蓬帕雅小村，在树下的帐篷里，自己在干什么。”他顿了顿，接着说：“我不由寻思，自己为什么要回去。”
去厄瓜多尔纳波河这种地方不是为了观赏什么世界奇观，而只是去看一看那里有些什么。人生在世，惟有一次，我们不妨去感受一下那个地方。我们不妨去感受一下有生命生活其间的远方水乡山谷，去感受覆盖了半个大陆的亚马逊河流域，去感受那样一种生活――在那里，一如在别的地方――那种必定总是琐碎的生活：在各条支流上，在临水的村落里，在有着独特形状的阴凉处吮吸着有白色浆果的独特的番石榴。
那里的一切都趣味盎然。纳波河河面宽阔，河水混浊，呈褐黄色，浮沫以及丛林里来的木段和树枝翻浮其上。成群的鹦鹉忽而飞进树荫里，忽而飞入阳光里。水下潜伏着南美蟒蛇――据说每年都要吞吃几名村童――还有水蟒、鳄鱼，以及肉质鲜美的鱼类。
水浅的地方露出灰茫茫的狭长沙洲，土著人在沙洲上为过夜的渔夫搭建了小小的棕榈茅舍。你能见到这些清洁得出奇的人（他们在河里一天沐浴两次，满头直挺的黑发更是刚刚洗过）在独木舟里紧贴着河岸荡桨。
在本世纪早期，这一地区的一些印第安人常常赤身睡在吊床里。夜晚颇凉。勘测亚马逊河支流的美国探险家戈登·麦克里奇曾记述说，他凌晨点就听见印第安人起身，深感愕然。更令他惊奇的是，夜复一夜，他都听见他们半睡半醒地缓步走向河边，趟到河里洗起澡来。后来他才弄明白他们是在干什么：他们在取暖。凉意把他们冻醒，他们便到河里暖暖身子，因为河水保持90（华氏）度不变；随后他们再回到吊床上，睡到天亮。
当你离开大河，深入丛林，满眼树木高耸入云。一眼望去，成群的蝴蝶穿过丛林小径，有宝蓝的，有条纹的，有纯色翅膀的。在脚下，则有一长列蚂蚁背负着三角形的绿叶碎片。负叶爬行的蚂蚁就像一支规模庞大、扬帆行驶的船队――只是它们不会停歇。无论什么方向，都能看到它们在丛林的地面上摇摇摆摆地爬行。
丛林中狭长的湖泊上波光闪闪。我们荡舟其上，划着用大砍刀砍削而成的木桨，在浅水处则以竹当篙。有着一半印第安血统的向导前一天已经辟出了通往湖泊的小路；我们在小路上行走时，看见他砍下作为装饰的蟒蛇头，张开大口，钉在独木舟边尖头枝条上。
湖泊奇妙无比。苍鹭在岸边缓缓地迈着步子，翠鸟和杜鹃欢叫着从阳光里飞入树荫，火鸡模样的大鸟在枯枝间忙碌，鹰在头上盘旋。我们毋庸为时间担忧，可以从容地欣赏周围的一切。一只乌龟滑入水中。我乘坐的独木舟船头坐着个男孩，他用简陋的弹弓――橡皮弹架和皮索――发射石弹击打飞鸟。他摆出漂亮的架势瞄准飞鸟，却一次又一次地偏离目标；鸟总是飞出他的射程。他把弹弓塞回进衬衣内。我移开目光。
湖水与河水都如热带雨林中的树叶那样乳浊；那水是面纱，是窗帘，是画屏。你只能从表象看事物。我看到近岸的河水在起伏，上面翻腾着一条巨滑舌鱼，那是这一带水域出产的一种奇大的黑鱼；上一个星期捕获一条，重达430磅。湖里有水虎鱼，还有电鳗。我用手指在水里划着，心想即使被鱼咬一口也值得。
那天夜晚在小村里，我们将吃鸡肉，还有米饭、洋葱和一大堆水果。夕阳会西下，像落幕似地把夜暮降下。黄昏短暂，暮色中，看不见的鸟儿在伤感似地啼鸣，声声动人。两位修女，身穿耀眼的白色道服――年轻的修女身材姣好，年长的那位慈眉善目――会在夜色中悄然来到开着门的用藤条茅草搭建的教室里，让孩子们唱歌。孩子们会用西班牙语放声歌唱，歌声又高又纯；他们会用盖丘亚语唱“上帝离你更近”，唱得非常快。孩子们唱着唱着兴奋起来，纷纷从木凳上站起，簇拥在两位修女身旁，又是跳，又是冲着我们笑。人人都在欢笑，穿戴头巾的修女满脸欢笑，声音清脆的孩子们还在歌唱，棕榈叶铺的屋顶也在颤动。
纳波河：那不是荒僻的地方。那是个有人烟的地域，像杯子盛载往里倒的水那样，纳波河接住照射下来的阳光；那是个充满清新空气的低洼地区，一片翠绿的盆地，环境优美的盆地，看来还是个平静的盆地。