有关热爱生命的英文

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如题所述

Answer 1

　　杰克伦敦的《热爱生命》英文节选
　　He closed his eyes and composed himself with infinite precaution.

　　He steeled himself to keep above the suffocating languor that

　　lapped like a rising tide through all the wells of his being. It

　　was very like a sea, this deadly languor, that rose and rose and

　　drowned his consciousness bit by bit. Sometimes he was all but

　　submerged, swimming through oblivion with a faltering stroke; and

　　again, by some strange alchemy of soul, he would find another shred

　　of will and strike out more strongly.

　　Without movement he lay on his back, and he could hear, slowly

　　drawing near and nearer, the wheezing intake and output of the sick

　　wolf's breath. It drew closer, ever closer, through an infinitude

　　of time, and he did not move. It was at his ear. The harsh dry

　　tongue grated like sandpaper against his cheek. His hands shot out

　　- or at least he willed them to shoot out. The fingers were curved

　　like talons, but they closed on empty air. Swiftness and certitude

　　require strength, and the man had not this strength.

　　The patience of the wolf was terrible. The man's patience was no

　　less terrible. For half a day he lay motionless, fighting off

　　unconsciousness and waiting for the thing that was to feed upon him

　　and upon which he wished to feed. Sometimes the languid sea rose

　　over him and he dreamed long dreams; but ever through it all,

　　waking and dreaming, he waited for the wheezing breath and the

　　harsh caress of the tongue.

　　He did not hear the breath, and he slipped slowly from some dream

　　to the feel of the tongue along his hand. He waited. The fangs

　　pressed softly; the pressure increased; the wolf was exerting its

　　last strength in an effort to sink teeth in the food for which it

　　had waited so long. But the man had waited long, and the lacerated

　　hand closed on the jaw. Slowly, while the wolf struggled feebly

　　and the hand clutched feebly, the other hand crept across to a

　　grip. Five minutes later the whole weight of the man's body was on

　　top of the wolf. The hands had not sufficient strength to choke

　　the wolf, but the face of the man was pressed close to the throat

　　of the wolf and the mouth of the man was full of hair. At the end

　　of half an hour the man was aware of a warm trickle in his throat.

　　It was not pleasant. It was like molten lead being forced into his

　　stomach, and it was forced by his will alone. Later the man rolled

　　over on his back and slept.

　　There were some members of a scientific expedition on the whale-

　　ship BEDFORD. From the deck they remarked a strange object on the

　　shore. It was moving down the beach toward the water. They were

　　unable to classify it, and, being scientific men, they climbed into

　　the whale-boat alongside and went ashore to see. And they saw

　　something that was alive but which could hardly be called a man.

　　It was blind, unconscious. It squirmed along the ground like some

　　monstrous worm. Most of its efforts were ineffectual, but it was

　　persistent, and it writhed and twisted and went ahead perhaps a

　　score of feet an hour.

　　Three weeks afterward the man lay in a bunk on the whale-ship

　　BEDFORD, and with tears streaming down his wasted cheeks told who

　　he was and what he had undergone. He also babbled incoherently of

　　his mother, of sunny Southern California, and a home among the

　　orange groves and flowers.

　　The days were not many after that when he sat at table with the

　　scientific men and ship's officers. He gloated over the spectacle

　　of so much food, watching it anxiously as it went into the mouths

　　of others. With the disappearance of each mouthful an expression

　　of deep regret came into his eyes. He was quite sane, yet he hated

　　those men at mealtime. He was haunted by a fear that the food

　　would not last. He inquired of the cook, the cabin-boy, the

　　captain, concerning the food stores. They reassured him countless

　　times; but he could not believe them, and pried cunningly about the

　　lazarette to see with his own eyes.

　　It was noticed that the man was getting fat. He grew stouter with

　　each day. The scientific men shook their heads and theorized.

　　They limited the man at his meals, but still his girth increased

　　and he swelled prodigiously under his shirt.

　　The sailors grinned. They knew. And when the scientific men set a

　　watch on the man, they knew too. They saw him slouch for'ard after

　　breakfast, and, like a mendicant, with outstretched palm, accost a

　　sailor. The sailor grinned and passed him a fragment of sea

　　biscuit. He clutched it avariciously, looked at it as a miser

　　looks at gold, and thrust it into his shirt bosom. Similar were

　　the donations from other grinning sailors.

　　The scientific men were discreet. They let him alone. But they

　　privily examined his bunk. It was lined with hardtack; the

　　mattress was stuffed with hardtack; every nook and cranny was

　　filled with hardtack. Yet he was sane. He was taking precautions

　　against another possible famine - that was all. He would recover

　　from it, the scientific men said; and he did, ere the BEDFORD'S

　　anchor rumbled down in San Francisco Bay.