小译狄更斯散文

也许，一年之中，没有哪个月，能够媲美八月那粉黛霓裳的芳姿。那百媚千娇的阳春，那繁花似锦的五月，魅影魂牵，却难以抹煞那寂寞隆冬的反衬烘托。八月，亦自无需如是。八月顾盼，轻轻推开记忆的窗棂，那澄澈如洗的碧空，那青青葱葱的田野，那淡妆浓抹的芳菲……当此之时，那扑天盖地的飞雪，那寒冷刺骨的坚冰，那瑟锁咆哮的朔风，已然完全从我们的脑海消逝，已然彻底同我们的星球辞却……是的，八月是如此令人神往的一段光阴。那绚丽多彩的果园，那银装素裹的麦田，四野之际，农歌互答。回眸远眺，那满布枝头的硕果，却又不经意压弯了小树的纤纤楚腰，树枝也娇羞地把头垂向那温情脉脉的大地。那一望无垠的谷穗，或者温婉贤淑地静候，亦或者灵动飘逸地飞舞，仿佛在向迁翩的镰刀倾吐着绵绵的爱意……好一派撒满金色的秋之美卷！整个世界都沉浸在这柔美的乐章之中，这个季节的影响力似乎延伸到了车马，它们和着舒缓的旋律信步在收割完的田野里，却轻婉地只在眉稍眼底时隐时现，不忍带来一丝扰人双耳的喧华。

             ——雪后轻云于（14年4年）原“百度空间”首译　　

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August

There is no month in the whole year, in which nature wears a more beautiful appearance than in the month of August. Spring has many beauties, and May is a fresh and blooming month, but the charms of this time of year are enhanced by their contrast with the winter season. August has no such advantage. It comes when we remember nothing but clear skies, green fields, and sweet-smelling flowers—when the recollection of snow, and ice, and bleak winds, has faded from our minds as completely as they have disappeared from the earth ----and yet what a pleasant time it is! Orchards and cornfields ring with the hum of  lab ours;  trees bend beneath the thick clusters of rich fruit which bow their branches to the ground; and the corn, piled in graceful sheaves, or waving in every light breath that sweeps above it, as if it wooed the sickle, tinges the landscape with a golden hue. A mellow softness appears to hang over the whole earth; the influence of the season seems to extend itself to the very wagon, whose slow motion across the well-reaped field, is perceptible only to the eye, but strikes with no harsh sound upon the ear.