愚蠢的少年
每天读一点英文之那些给我智慧和勇气的寓言故事(寓言篇)
79 A Foolish Boy 愚蠢的少年
A gay young spark I knew, who happened from his aunt great riches to inherit.
一个放荡的纨绔少年从他姑妈那里继承了一大笔遗产
He started squandering and squandered with such spirit, that all his worldly wealth was I.O.U.
他开始大肆挥霍,直到所有的财富都成了欠条。
He had a fine fur coat, still new. It was winter at the time, and old Jack Frost was in his prime.
他有一件上好的皮大衣,还是崭新的。当时正值严冬时节
One day a s wallow passed: what does our booby do. But pawn the fur as well!
有一天,天上飞过一只燕子。这个傻瓜做了什么?他把皮衣当掉了!
“Why, aren’t we all aware, you’ll never see a swallow in the air till spring insight!
“谁不知道只有到了春天,天空才会出现燕子呢,”浪子想,
So now,”thinks prodigal,“my fur is useless quite. Why wrap oneself in furs?
“所以,现在我的皮大衣没用了,为何还要紧裹着它呢?
It is now the first spring breezes. To Nature’s waking realm bring everything that pleases, and to the silent North the banished Frost takes wing.”
第一缕春风已经吹过,苏醒的大自然一切都令人心旷神怡,严冬也跑到寂静的北方了。”
Our friend is quick at reckoning. He only quite forgets—at least, until he sneezes, one swallow does not make the spring.
至少打喷嚏之前,这个少年很会盘算,只是他忘记了——一燕不成春。
And so it proves! The frosts return again. The carts go creaking through the crumbled snow, the chimneys puff their smoke, one very window pane, delightful fairy tracings show.
确实如此!寒冬又回来了!马车咯吱咯吱地穿过冰天雪地,烟囱冒着烟,玻璃上结满了形状各异的冰花。
Poor rake! His eyes with rheumy moisture flow; the little bird that spoke of summer days to follow, lies frozen in the snow.
可怜的浪子,他感冒了,泪流不止,而那只代表夏季即将到来的燕子冻死在雪地里。
He stands beside the swallow. And shakes, and holds his breath, and mumbles through his teeth, “You villain, any how you’refinished too!
浪子站在燕子旁边,冻得发抖,他屏住呼吸,嘴里喃喃地道:“坏蛋!不管怎么说,你都完蛋了!
I thought that I could count on you! To pawn my fur just now—a pretty thing to do!”
我以为还能指望你呢!我刚刚把皮衣卖了——简直太糟糕了!”
每天读一点英文之那些给我智慧和勇气的寓言故事(寓言篇)
79 A Foolish Boy 愚蠢的少年
一个放荡的纨绔少年从他姑妈那里继承了一大笔遗产
他开始大肆挥霍,直到所有的财富都成了欠条。
他有一件上好的皮大衣,还是崭新的。当时正值严冬时节
有一天,天上飞过一只燕子。这个傻瓜做了什么?他把皮衣当掉了!
“谁不知道只有到了春天,天空才会出现燕子呢,”浪子想,
“所以,现在我的皮大衣没用了,为何还要紧裹着它呢?
第一缕春风已经吹过,苏醒的大自然一切都令人心旷神怡,严冬也跑到寂静的北方了。”
至少打喷嚏之前,这个少年很会盘算,只是他忘记了——一燕不成春。
确实如此!寒冬又回来了!马车咯吱咯吱地穿过冰天雪地,烟囱冒着烟,玻璃上结满了形状各异的冰花。
可怜的浪子,他感冒了,泪流不止,而那只代表夏季即将到来的燕子冻死在雪地里。
浪子站在燕子旁边,冻得发抖,他屏住呼吸,嘴里喃喃地道:“坏蛋!不管怎么说,你都完蛋了!
我以为还能指望你呢!我刚刚把皮衣卖了——简直太糟糕了!”
A gay young spark I knew, who happened from his aunt great riches to inherit.
He started squandering and squandered with such spirit, that all his worldly wealth was I.O.U.
He had a fine fur coat, still new. It was winter at the time, and old Jack Frost was in his prime.
One day a s wallow passed: what does our booby do. But pawn the fur as well!
“Why, aren’t we all aware, you’ll never see a swallow in the air till spring insight!
So now,”thinks prodigal,“my fur is useless quite. Why wrap oneself in furs?
It is now the first spring breezes. To Nature’s waking realm bring everything that pleases, and to the silent North the banished Frost takes wing.”
Our friend is quick at reckoning. He only quite forgets—at least, until he sneezes, one swallow does not make the spring.
And so it proves! The frosts return again. The carts go creaking through the crumbled snow, the chimneys puff their smoke, one very window pane, delightful fairy tracings show.
Poor rake! His eyes with rheumy moisture flow; the little bird that spoke of summer days to follow, lies frozen in the snow.
He stands beside the swallow. And shakes, and holds his breath, and mumbles through his teeth, “You villain, any how you’refinished too!
I thought that I could count on you! To pawn my fur just now—a pretty thing to do!”