介绍:
2021年8月7日《古大叔小木屋》（69）直播现场录制 私人定制
时间：夜9:00——9：55
Walden [ˈwɔldən] (Issue 69)
4. Sounds(10)
[13] While these things go up/ other things come down. Warned by the whizzing sound, I look up from my book and see some tall pine, hewn [hju:n] on far northern hills, which has winged its way over the Green Mountains and the Connecticut, shot[ʃɒt] like an arrow through the township within ten minutes, and scarce another eye beholds it; going
"be the mast[maːst]
Of some great ammiral[ˈæmərəl]."
And hark! here comes the cattle-train bearing the cattle of a thousand hills, sheepcots[kɒts], stables, and cow-yards in the air, drovers with their sticks, and shepherd boys in the midst of their flocks, all but the mountain pastures, whirled[wɜːld] along like leaves blown from the mountains by the September gales. The air is filled with the bleating of calves and sheep, and the hustling['hʌsl] of oxen, as if a pastoral[ˈpaːstərəl] valley were going by. When the old bell-wether at the head rattles his bell, the mountains do indeed skip like rams and the little hills like lambs[læms]. A carload of drovers, too, in the midst, on a level with their droves now, their vocation gone, but still clinging[ˈklɪŋɪŋ] to their useless sticks as their badge[bædʒ] of office. But their dogs, where are they? It is a stampede to them; they are quite thrown out; they have lost the scent. Methinks I hear them barking behind the Peterboro' Hills, or panting up the western slope of the Green Mountains. They will not be in at the death. Their vocation, too, is gone. Their fidelity[fɪˈdelɪtɪ] and sagacity[səˈgæsɪtɪ] are below par now. They will slink back to their kennels[ˈkenls] in disgrace, or perchance run wild and strike a league with the wolf and the fox. So is your pastoral life whirled past and away. But the bell rings, and I must get off the track and let the cars go by; -
What's the railroad to me?
I never go to see
Where it ends.
It fills a few hollows,
And makes banks for the swallows,
It sets the sand a-blowing,
And the blackberries a-growing,
but I cross it like a cart-path in the woods. I will not have my eyes put out and my ears spoiled by its smoke and steam and hissing.
这些东西来了，有些东西就去了。这些声响嗖嗖地提醒，我从正看的书上抬起头/看到某个高大的松树在北部的远山里被伐倒，它已经飞掠过格林山和康乃狄格，像一支射出的箭不到十分钟就刺穿了小镇，快到另一只眼都抓不住；走了——
“去做桅杆
某个巨大战船的。”
而且听啊！这里来了载zài着牲口的车厢，携带着一千座山、一千个羊栏、成千的马棚和牛圈，在空气里；赶牲口的人挥舞着棍子，牧羊的孩子在他们的羊群中，除了这以外/几乎群山的草场也被旋风般卷走了，就像九月的狂风剥光群峰的树叶。空气里满是小牛和绵羊咩咩，和大牛们的推挤，仿佛是一个田园的山谷在移动经过。当戴铃儿的老公羊摇响头上的铃铛，群山真的像蹦跳而过的山羊，而那小山又像紧随其后的小羊。一车厢的放牧人夹在中间，和他们的被驱赶物沦落到同一个水平，他们的行业已经消失，但仍然紧抓着表示他们行当的毫无用处的棍子。可是他们的狗呢？去了哪里？对它们来说无疑是一场大溃退；它们全被驱散了，已经失去了它们的嗅xiù迹。我想我是听到了在皮特保罗小山后它们在叫，或在格林群山/西山坡气喘吁吁的攀爬。它们的死期还没有到。可是，它们放牧犬的职业到头了。它们的忠诚和睿智如今也大为下降了。它们会带着羞辱潜qián回它们的狗shè舍，或偶尔疯跑，与狼和狐狸为伍。就这样你田园的生活飞旋着过去。可是铃儿响了，我必须离开轨道让火车通过——
火车对我算什么？
我从来不去看
它的终点。
它不过填了几个洼地
给燕子造堤坝，
它镇住了黄沙飞扬
和黑莓生长
但是我跨过它/就像跨过林中的牛车路。我可不愿让它的烟、蒸汽、嘶嘶，玷污我的耳朵、迷瞎我的眼。
听众注意：这是一场被技术卡断的现场直播。
大家还在听
