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Nevertheless, after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, at the first sight of the Atlantic Ocean he recovered his spirits a little, and his hope. But it was only a brief respite. That vast but always smooth sea, the increasing heat, the misery of all those poor people who surrounded him, the consciousness of his own solitude, overwhelmed him once more. The empty and monotonous days which succeeded each other became confounded in his memory, as is the case with sick people. It seemed to him that he had been at sea a year.
船過直布羅陀海峽，一出大西洋，瑪爾可才略振勇氣和希望。可是這不過是暫時的。茫茫的樣面上，除了水天以外什么都不見，天氣漸漸加熱，熱，周圍去國工人們的可憐的光景，和自己孤獨的形影，都足使他心中罩上一層暗云。一天一天，總是這樣無聊地過去，正如床上的病人忘記時日，自己在海上好像已住了一年了。
And every morning, on waking, he felt surprised afresh at finding himself there alone on that vast watery expanse, on his way to America. The beautiful flying fish which fell on deck every now and then, the marvellous sunsets of the tropics, with their enormous clouds colored like flame and blood, and those nocturnal phosphorescences which make the ocean seem all on fire like a sea of lava, did not produce on him the effect of realthings, but of marvels beheld in a dream. There were days of bad weather, during which he remained constantly in the dormitory, where everything was rolling and crashing, in the midst of a terrible chorus of lamentations and imprecations, and he thought that his last hour had come.
每天早晨張開眼來，知自己仍在大西洋中，獨自在赴美洲的途中，自己也驚訝。甲板上時時落下的美麗的飛魚，焰血一般的熱帶地方的日沒，以及夜中火山似的漂滿海面的粼光，在他都好像在夢境中看見，不覺得這些是實物。天氣不好的日子，終日終夜臥在室里，聽器物的滾動聲，磕碰聲，周圍人們的哭叫聲，呻吟聲，覺得似乎末日已到了。
There were other days, when the sea was calm and yellowish, of insupportable heat, of infinite tediousness; interminable and wretched hours, during which the enervated passengers, stretched motionless on the planks, seemed all dead. And the voyage was endless: sea and sky, sky and sea; to-day the same as yesterday, to-morrow like to-day, and so on, always, eternally. And for long hours he stood leaning on the bulwarks, gazing at that interminable sea in amazement, thinking vaguely of his mother, until his eyes closed and his head was drooping with sleep; and then again he beheld that unknown face which gazed upon him with an air of compassion, and repeated in his ear, "Your mother is dead!" and at the sound of that voice he awoke with a start, to resume his dreaming with wide-open eyes, and to gaze at the unchanging horizon.
當那靜寂的海轉成黃色，炎熱加沸時，覺得倦怠無聊。在這種時候，疲弱極了的乘客都死也似的臥倒在甲板上不動。海不知何日才可行盡。滿眼只見水與天，天與水，昨天，今天，明天，都是這樣。瑪爾可時時倚了船舷一連幾小時茫然地看海，一邊想著母親，往往不知不覺閉眼入夢。夢見那不相識者很憐憫地附耳告訴他：你母親已死在那里了！”他一被這話聲驚醒過來，仍對著水平線做夢也似的空想。
Nevertheless, after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, at the first sight of the Atlantic Ocean he recovered his spirits a little, and his hope. But it was only a brief respite. That vast but always smooth sea, the increasing heat, the misery of all those poor people who surrounded him, the consciousness of his own solitude, overwhelmed him once more. The empty and monotonous days which succeeded each other became confounded in his memory, as is the case with sick people. It seemed to him that he had been at sea a year.
船過直布羅陀海峽，一出大西洋，瑪爾可才略振勇氣和希望。可是這不過是暫時的。茫茫的樣面上，除了水天以外什么都不見，天氣漸漸加熱，熱，周圍去國工人們的可憐的光景，和自己孤獨的形影，都足使他心中罩上一層暗云。一天一天，總是這樣無聊地過去，正如床上的病人忘記時日，自己在海上好像已住了一年了。
And every morning, on waking, he felt surprised afresh at finding himself there alone on that vast watery expanse, on his way to America. The beautiful flying fish which fell on deck every now and then, the marvellous sunsets of the tropics, with their enormous clouds colored like flame and blood, and those nocturnal phosphorescences which make the ocean seem all on fire like a sea of lava, did not produce on him the effect of realthings, but of marvels beheld in a dream. There were days of bad weather, during which he remained constantly in the dormitory, where everything was rolling and crashing, in the midst of a terrible chorus of lamentations and imprecations, and he thought that his last hour had come.
每天早晨張開眼來，知自己仍在大西洋中，獨自在赴美洲的途中，自己也驚訝。甲板上時時落下的美麗的飛魚，焰血一般的熱帶地方的日沒，以及夜中火山似的漂滿海面的粼光，在他都好像在夢境中看見，不覺得這些是實物。天氣不好的日子，終日終夜臥在室里，聽器物的滾動聲，磕碰聲，周圍人們的哭叫聲，呻吟聲，覺得似乎末日已到了。
There were other days, when the sea was calm and yellowish, of insupportable heat, of infinite tediousness; interminable and wretched hours, during which the enervated passengers, stretched motionless on the planks, seemed all dead. And the voyage was endless: sea and sky, sky and sea; to-day the same as yesterday, to-morrow like to-day, and so on, always, eternally. And for long hours he stood leaning on the bulwarks, gazing at that interminable sea in amazement, thinking vaguely of his mother, until his eyes closed and his head was drooping with sleep; and then again he beheld that unknown face which gazed upon him with an air of compassion, and repeated in his ear, "Your mother is dead!" and at the sound of that voice he awoke with a start, to resume his dreaming with wide-open eyes, and to gaze at the unchanging horizon.
當那靜寂的海轉成黃色，炎熱加沸時，覺得倦怠無聊。在這種時候，疲弱極了的乘客都死也似的臥倒在甲板上不動。海不知何日才可行盡。滿眼只見水與天，天與水，昨天，今天，明天，都是這樣。瑪爾可時時倚了船舷一連幾小時茫然地看海，一邊想著母親，往往不知不覺閉眼入夢。夢見那不相識者很憐憫地附耳告訴他：你母親已死在那里了！”他一被這話聲驚醒過來，仍對著水平線做夢也似的空想。
