評論
打印
He finishes, and slowly lowers his hands holding the wooden flute.
吹奏完畢，他徐徐地放下握笛子的雙手。
As if that little private silence were the signal, all at once a trumpet sounds from the pavilion near the starting line: imperious, melancholy, piercing.
笛聲一停，場上緊接著出現一陣寂靜，這似乎成了一個信號，片刻寂靜之后，立刻便聽到起跑線附近的一個亭子里響起了一陣威嚴、低沉、尖銳的號聲。
The horses rear on their slender legs, and some of them neigh in answer.
那些在等候的馬一聽號聲，便人立而起，有的還發出嘶叫聲。
Sober-faced, the young riders stroke the horses'necks and soothe them, whispering, Quiet, quiet, there my beauty, my hope They begin to form in rank along the starting line.
那些青年騎手們此時一本正經地撫摸著馬頸，輕聲細語地安慰道：安靜點，安靜點，我的美人兒，我的希望…他們開始在起跑線上列隊。
The crowds along the racecourse are like a field of grass and flowers in the wind. The Festival of Summer has begun.
聚集在賽馬跑道沿線的人群東倒西歪，宛如原野上的一片花草迎風起伏著。夏慶節正式開始了。
Do you believe? Do you accept the festival, the city,the joy? No? Then let me describe one more thing.
你相信了嗎?上面描述的這種節慶，這個城市以及歡樂景象，你都覺得可信了嗎?不可信?那么，請讓我再講述一件事情吧。
In a basement under one of the beautiful public buildings of Omelas, or perhaps in the cellar of one of its spacious private homes, there is a room.
在奧米勒斯城某幢漂亮的公共建筑下面的地下室里，也許是在一所寬敞的私宅的地窖里，有一個房間。
It has one locked door, and no window. A little light seeps in dustily between cracks in the boards, secondhand from a cobwebbed window somewhere across the cellar.
這房間有個上了鎖的門，但沒有窗戶。一絲充滿塵埃的光線從有隙縫的板墻里透過來。
In one corner of the little room a couple of mops, with stiff, clotted, foul-smelling heads, stand near a rusty bucket.
這光線間接來自地窖某處一個結滿蛛網的窗戶。小房間的一個墻角，靠近一個生銹的水桶。
