库切的炸药奖 演讲稿 英文朗诵 (转载)# LeisureTime - 读书听歌看电影
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【 以下文字转载自 Lei 俱乐部 】
发信人: mdcai (玫瑰之名：英雄儿女), 信区: Lei
标 题: 库切的炸药奖 演讲稿 英文朗诵
发信站: BBS 未名空间站 (Sat Apr 20 00:06:20 2013, 美东)
突破了一下自己。
音频在此：
http://www.tlkg.com.cn/maiba/share.action2?code=TVY7NTM1NjEz
Transcripts:
Nobel Lecture by John Maxwell Coetzee
Voice from mdcai @ mitbbs.com
Boston, on the coast of Lincolnshire, is a handsome town, writes his man.
The tallest church steeple in all of England is to be found there; sea-
pilots use it to navigate by. Around Boston is fen country. Bitterns abound,
ominous birds who give a heavy, groaning call loud enough to be heard two
miles away, like the report of a gun.
The fens are home to many other kinds of birds too, writes his man, duck and
mallard, teal and widgeon, to capture which the men of the fens, the fen-
men, raise tame ducks, which they call decoy ducks or duckoys.
Fens are tracts of wetland. There are tracts of wetland all over Europe, all
over the world, but they are not named fens, fen is an English word, it
will not migrate.
Or else let the man be a saddler with a home and a shop and a warehouse in
White chapel and a mole on his chin and a wife who loves him and does not
chatter and bears him children, daughters mainly, and gives him much
happiness, until the plague descends upon the city, it is the year 1665, the
great fire of London has not yet come. The plague descends upon London:
daily, parish by parish, the count of the dead mounts, rich and poor, for
the plague makes no distinction among stations, all this saddler's worldly
wealth will not save him. He sends his wife and daughters into the
countryside and makes plans to flee himself, but then does not.
Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror at night, he reads, opening the
Bible at hazard, not for the arrow that flieth by day; not for the
pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at
noon-day. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right
hand, but it shall not come nigh thee.
Taking heart from this sign, a sign of safe passage, he remains in afflicted
London and sets about writing reports. I came upon a crowd in the street,
he writes, and a woman in their midst pointing to the heavens. See, she
cries, an angel in white brandishing a flaming sword! And the crowd all nod
among themselves, Indeed it is so, they say: an angel with a sword! But he,
the saddler, can see no angel, no sword. All he can see is a strange-shaped
cloud brighter on the one side than the other, from the shining of the sun.
发信人: mdcai (玫瑰之名：英雄儿女), 信区: Lei
标 题: 库切的炸药奖 演讲稿 英文朗诵
发信站: BBS 未名空间站 (Sat Apr 20 00:06:20 2013, 美东)
突破了一下自己。
音频在此：
http://www.tlkg.com.cn/maiba/share.action2?code=TVY7NTM1NjEz
Transcripts:
Nobel Lecture by John Maxwell Coetzee
Voice from mdcai @ mitbbs.com
Boston, on the coast of Lincolnshire, is a handsome town, writes his man.
The tallest church steeple in all of England is to be found there; sea-
pilots use it to navigate by. Around Boston is fen country. Bitterns abound,
ominous birds who give a heavy, groaning call loud enough to be heard two
miles away, like the report of a gun.
The fens are home to many other kinds of birds too, writes his man, duck and
mallard, teal and widgeon, to capture which the men of the fens, the fen-
men, raise tame ducks, which they call decoy ducks or duckoys.
Fens are tracts of wetland. There are tracts of wetland all over Europe, all
over the world, but they are not named fens, fen is an English word, it
will not migrate.
Or else let the man be a saddler with a home and a shop and a warehouse in
White chapel and a mole on his chin and a wife who loves him and does not
chatter and bears him children, daughters mainly, and gives him much
happiness, until the plague descends upon the city, it is the year 1665, the
great fire of London has not yet come. The plague descends upon London:
daily, parish by parish, the count of the dead mounts, rich and poor, for
the plague makes no distinction among stations, all this saddler's worldly
wealth will not save him. He sends his wife and daughters into the
countryside and makes plans to flee himself, but then does not.
Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror at night, he reads, opening the
Bible at hazard, not for the arrow that flieth by day; not for the
pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at
noon-day. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right
hand, but it shall not come nigh thee.
Taking heart from this sign, a sign of safe passage, he remains in afflicted
London and sets about writing reports. I came upon a crowd in the street,
he writes, and a woman in their midst pointing to the heavens. See, she
cries, an angel in white brandishing a flaming sword! And the crowd all nod
among themselves, Indeed it is so, they say: an angel with a sword! But he,
the saddler, can see no angel, no sword. All he can see is a strange-shaped
cloud brighter on the one side than the other, from the shining of the sun.
