为了培养员工学习英语的兴趣,增强员工的英语语感及语言表达能力,丰富员工的校园生活,营造勤奋、严谨、求实、进取的校园氛围,使同学们能够学以致用,特举办本次英语翻译比赛。
主办:必赢bwin官网教务处 团委
承办:必赢bwin官网外语系
参赛对象:
必赢bwin官网全体在校员工。
竞赛时间:
投稿截止至2010年6月10日。
评委组成:
评委主要由必赢bwin官网外语系教师组成(名单将另行公布)。
竞赛题目:
本次比赛设立“汉译英”和“英译汉”两个项目。参赛者可任选一项,也可同时参加两个项目。竞赛题目将于近期下发各系员工会学习部,届时也可必赢bwin官网外语系网站下载。
译文要求:
1. 参赛译文请用电脑A4纸宋体四号字体打印,电子版本投稿无效。译文正文内请勿书写译者姓名或透露任何有关译者的个人信息。
2. 参赛译文请另附封面,依次注明参赛者系别、班级、学号、姓名和联系电话(居中对齐)。
3. 参赛译文须独立完成,不允许捉刀行为。一经发现有弄虚作假者,其递交译作即为无效。
奖项设置:
本次竞赛设一等奖1名,二等奖2名,三等奖3名,优秀奖5名。
二〇一〇年五月二十日
附件:
英译汉
Clearing Paths to the Past
By Kevin Coyne
The snow started to slow soon after supper, and I looked out the window to measure how much had accumulated — on the shed, on the fence, on the limbs of the tall poplars and oaks that line the long strip of sidewalk I would now have to shovel. When the snow ends, my duty begins.
My house occupies an average-sized lot in the old courthouse town where I grew up, but it’s on a corner, and in winter that makes all the difference. The sidewalk stretches 50 feet across the front of the house, a reasonable assignment for one man and a shovel.
If I lived in an isolated corner of town, my sidewalk might not beckon me so insistently each snowfall, maybe I could let the snow rest undisturbed on it for a while, and admire, at least briefly, the fresh sheet of white billowing out to the curb. But four doors down is the high school, and around the corner in the other direction is the elementary school. A crossing guard stands out front in the morning. I have obligations.
I first learned about the obligations imposed by snow from my grandfather, long before I had a sidewalk of my own. My grandparents lived in the house behind ours when I was a boy, and they, like us, had the requisite 50 feet of sidewalk to care for. But my grandfather worked as the custodian at the savings and loan a few doors away, on a busy stretch of Main Street. It was a corner lot, too, maybe twice as wide and deep as my own; its sidewalk felt miles long when I used to help him clear it.
Before they moved into town, my grandparents had lived nearby on a small farm, which my grandmother never missed and my grandfather never quite got over. She had muscled the farm along while he worked at a factory in town, and she was glad to leave the butchering of chickens behind. But he kept planting fields in his head, and he cultivated his small new patch of land as if it were his sustenance. The white picket fence around his lush backyard garden could barely contain his bountiful tomatoes.
After the factory closed —just two weeks’ severance after 31 years of work — he took the custodian job, cleaning the building’s interior but lavishing most of his attention on the grounds, as if it were his own land. He had learned from the factory how sparse the payment for loyalty sometimes is, but he held to a stricter code of responsibility that I couldn’t help but absorb from him.
And when the snow fell off we went to the savings and loan, shovels on our shoulders like hunters’ rifles. Safe passage along the sidewalks of Main Street had to be restored. Everyone who needed to walk this route was depending upon him to clear the way.
My grandfather had no use for people who cleared paths along the sidewalk no more than a single shovel-pass across. Every bit of concrete hidden beneath the snow, he believed, must be exposed. A sidewalk in deep winter should be as bare and wide as a sidewalk in spring, so he taught me how to shovel the way I still shovel today: Cut a single lane straight ahead, then double back and shovel sideways to the shoulders to clear the rest.
When I saw through my window the other night that the snow had stopped, I thought of my grandfather again as I pulled on my gloves and headed outside. Shovels lean against the back porch, no one was outside, I worked alone by streetlamp and snowlight.
The farms that once circled my town are all but gone now, including my grandparents’, and in many of the housing developments that replaced them there are no sidewalks at all. But children would be walking past my house to school in the morning, and it was my job to make the way clear before they arrived. The snow was feathery, just a couple of inches, and when I was done, I stood leaning on my shovel for a moment, looking with satisfaction down the long path that stretched to the corner. I can’t grow tomatoes anything like my grandfather’s, but my shoveling will suffice. I had cleared the way, as he always had, for whoever might follow.
In the morning, I got up from my desk to watch through the window as the morning traffic commenced along my sidewalk, where nothing stopped the children — or anyone else — from wherever they needed to go.
汉译英
心田上的百合花开
林清玄
在一个偏僻遥远的山谷里,有一个高达数千尺的断崖。不知道什么时候,断崖边上长出了一株小小的百合。
百合刚刚诞生的时候,长得和杂草一模一样。但是,它心里知道自己并不是一株野草。
它的内心深处,有一个内在的纯洁的念头:“我是一株百合,不是一株野草。惟一能证明我是百合的办法,就是开出美丽的花朵。”有了这个念头,百合努力地吸收水分和阳光,深深地扎根,直直地挺着胸膛。
终于,在一个春天的早晨,百合的顶部结出了第一个花苞。
百合的心里很高兴,附近的杂草却都不屑,它们在私底下嘲笑着百合:“这家伙明明是一株草,偏偏说自己是一株花,还真以为自己是一株花,我看他顶上结的不是花苞,而是头上长瘤了。”
公开的场合,它们讥笑百合:“你不要做梦了,即使你真的是会开花,在这荒郊野外,你的价值还不是跟我们一样?”
偶尔也有飞过的蜂蝶鸟雀,它们也会劝百合不用那么努力开花:“在这断崖边上,纵然开出世界上最美的花,也不会有人来欣赏呀!”
百合说:“我要开花,是因为我知道自己有美丽的花;我要开花,是为了完成作为一株花的庄严生命;我要开花,是由于自己喜欢以花来证明自己的存在。不管有没有人欣赏,不管你们怎么看我,我都要开花!”
在野草和蜂蝶的鄙夷下,野百合努力地释放着内心的能量。有一天,它终于开花了,它那灵性的洁白和秀挺的风姿,成为断崖上最美丽的颜色。
这时候,野草与蜂蝶,再也不敢嘲笑它了。
百合花一朵朵地盛开着,它花上每天都有晶莹的水珠,野草们以为那是昨夜的露水,只有百合自己知道,那是极深沉的欢喜所结的泪滴。
年年春天,野百合努力地开花、结籽。它的种子随着风,落在山谷、草原和悬崖边上,到处都开满洁白的野百合。
几十年后,远在千百里外的人,从城市、从乡村,千里迢迢赶来欣赏百合花。许多孩童跪下来,闻嗅百合花的芬芳;许多情侣互相拥抱,许下了“百年好合”的誓言;无数的人看到这从未有过的美,感动得落泪,触动内心那纯洁温柔的一角。
那里,被人们称为“百合谷地”。
不管别人怎么欣赏,满山的百合都谨记着第一株百合的教导:“我们要全心全意默默地开花,以花来证明自己的存在。”