SubaruHDS Abundances in Three Giant Stars in the Ursa Minor Dwarf Spheroidal Galaxy

Only three wolves seem to remain in Isle1 Royale National Park. Researchers from Michigan Technological2 University observed the wolves during their annual Winter Study, and the lone3 group, at an unprecedented4 low, is a sharp decline from ninewolves observed last winter. The study's report, released today, marks the project's 57th year of observing wolves and moose in Isle Royale. It is the longest running predator5-prey6 study in the world. This year, along with the three resident wolves, scientists estimated 1,250 moose on the island and observed two visiting wolves, which came and then left across an ice bridge to the mainland. This growing gap between the predator and prey populations is a trend that Michigan Tech researchers have tracked over the past four years."It's not the presence of wolves that matters so much, it's whether wolves are performing their ecological7 function," says John Vucetich, an associate professor of wildlife ecology who leads the study along with Rolf Peterson, a research professor at Michigan Tech.Last April, the Isle Royale National Park released a statement concerning wolf intervention8 options. Part of the statement reads: "There is still a chance of nature replenishing the gene9 pool as wolves are able to move to and from the island when ice bridges form."But with only three wolves remaining, Vucetich says, "There is now a good chance that it is too late to conduct genetic10 rescue." He also points out that one of the Isle Royale wolves left on an ice bridge last winter, and this winter, two wolves visited the island and promptly11 traveled back over the ice bridge.词汇解析：1 islen.小岛，岛参考例句：He is from the Isle of Man in the Irish Sea.他来自爱尔兰海的马恩岛。

他之所以于我们如此重要The reason that he is as important to us as I think he is是因为他是一名伟大的艺术家is because he was a good artist,他曾作为杰出的艺术家名噪一时and on his best days he was a terrific artist,他能捡拾这世上零落的光影片段and he found some way to put together those little fragments of the world 以照片的形式记录了下来in a way that transformed them into a picture.就如同In the same way that,you know,诗人和普罗大众使用着相同的字典a poet uses the same dictionaries that the rest of us do.所有词汇都排列其中All the words are in there...诗中的辞藻都按字母顺序写在字典里all the words in the poem are there, they're in alphabetical order你可以找到它们so you can find them ...撷取其中几个and it's just a matter of taking a few of them约翰·沙科夫斯基摄影师兼策展人按照恰当的顺序排列好and putting them in the right order,写诗就是如此and that's all there is to it.这就是为什么有些诗篇And so why is it that some lines of poetry,有些诗句能够抓住我们some sentences grasp us,吸引我们you know,grip us,我们觉得 "对说得对and we think,"That's,that's right,that's true,虽然不太明白whatever,I don't know quite what that means,但确实如此"but whatever it means it's true."好照片也能达到这样的效果And a good picture does something like that.安塞尔最好的几幅作品The best of Ansel's是我们记忆的一部分are part of our memory,是我们认知的一部分part of our sense照片该如何拍摄of what a picture might be made out of,拍摄怎样的风景what it might look like又有什么样的深层意义and what it might ultimately be about,这很难解释清楚which is the part we can't explain.他的一生就是一趟旅程一次探险His whole life would be a journey, and an exploration;一场对意义与秩序a search for meaning and order,美丽与救赎的探索for beauty and redemption;探寻着与更伟大更永恒事物间的联♥系♥for contact with something larger and more lasting:社会羁绊家庭for community, connection, and home.美国西进运动结束几年后Born on the far western edge of the continent他出生于遥远的西部地区in the years following the close of the American frontier,1916年夏他初遇风景如画的约塞米蒂谷he first encountered the awesome beauty of Yosemite Valley in the summer of 1916. "从那一天起" 他后来写道"From that day,"he later wrote,"我的生活因重峦叠嶂的内华达山脉"My life has been colored and modulated变得丰富多彩"by the great earth gesture of the Sierra."自那以后他穷其一生He would spend the rest of his life用胶片捕捉美洲大♥陆♥的自然之美trying to capture on film the wild majesty of the American continent,捕捉震撼人心的荒野and the sublime and humbling exaltation of wilderness. 一旦进入这里It's a place that you step into,你不知道会发生什么and you don't know what's going to happen.这里令人惊奇It's a place that can surprise you.令人感到渺小It's a place where you're small.但感到渺小不是坏事But where being small is not a bad thing,卡尔·波普山峦俱乐部成员它其实是一件美妙的事where being small is actually a wonderful thing.如果你看安塞尔的照片If you look at Ansel's photographs,摄影师无论站在哪里the photographer wherever he stands,相较于大自然的细节与光线is clearly tiny compared to都显得渺小极了the detail and the light.你能感知到太阳播撒的每一缕光线You have a sense of the entire solar system,阳光闪耀在新墨西哥州教堂顶上the sun is shining in on a church in New Mexico或是内华达的山峰上or a peak in the Sierra,摄影师的眼睛也就是相机and the eye, the camera,只是极小一部分is this small part但并非微不足道but it's not an insignificant part.正是相机为这一切赋予了意义It's the part which gives the whole thing meaning.安塞尔一生的作品之中Well,I think Ansel had a message in his art乔纳森·斯波尔丁传记作家都传达着一个信息that was consistent throughout his career.那就是世界如此之美And this is that the world is beautiful,人类只是浩繁世界中的一部分that humanity is part of this larger world.用相机记录的这一刻That the concerns of the moment也是浩繁世界不可分割的一部分are part but not separate from a larger system of forces它们将我们与万事万物联♥系♥在一起that connect us to all of creation.我无法言明照片的内在含义I can't verbalize the internal meaning of pictures whatsoever.有些朋友能拉里拉杂说一堆Some of my friends can at very mystical levels,但我更愿意说but I prefer to say that,如果我强烈地感受到了什么if I feel something strongly,我会把它拍下来I would make a photograph,照片能体现出我的所见所感that would be the equivalent of what I saw and felt...当我准备拍照的时候When I'm ready to make a photograph,我的心眼感受到的I think I quite obviously see in my mind's eye并非事物字面的浅薄含义something that is not literally there,而是这个世界的内涵in the true meaning of the word.我乐于展现的是有内在意义的事物I'm interested in expressing something which is built up from within, 而非局限于外在的东西rather than just extracted from without.当他拍摄自然风景时When he photographed the wild landscape --尤其是拍摄他的第二故乡especially in his own special home内华达山脉和约塞米蒂荒野的景色wild landscape in the High Sierra,and Yosimte.他和这些山脉产生了共鸣he felt some consonance with that material这种共鸣强烈深刻神秘that was very profound,very deep,very mystical,近乎宗教一般perhaps almost religious --尽管他会强烈反对这种说法although he would certainly object to that very strongly,因为他并非传统的宗教信徒because he was not in any conventional sense a religious person --然后要想办法and then you try to find a way to make a picture that将你感受到的共鸣呈现在照片中is consonant with your sense of your relationship to that experience.这不仅仅是一个地方It's not just a place,是一种经历尤其是...it's an experience -- especially安塞尔要拍的景色只存在于彼时彼刻in Ansel's case that has to do with that time,that moment,它们转瞬即逝that evanescent disappearing thing.安塞尔不会刻意回避个人的表达I don't think Ansel was ever self-consciously concerned with personal expression. 他想要加入一些其他的东西It's wanting to join something else...安塞尔意在理解更广袤的世界Ansel, I think, the issue was to understand并成为其中一部分and become part of something that was larger.他想通过照片向人们展示And to make a picture that demonstrated that there was some,人与自然的共通之处actually some communion going on.将近七十年For nearly seventy years,他悠游于美国西部人迹罕至的荒野he would wander the great unoccupied spaces of the American west --拍摄身边不断变化的景色photographing the landscape as the landscape itself changed all around him,拍摄美洲大♥陆♥遭到开垦and as the wild places of the continent dwindled and shrank日渐萎缩的荒野and came under attack as never before.跟本世纪其他艺术家相比More than any other artist of the century,他转变了这片荒野之于美国的意义he would help transform the meaning of wilderness in America, 也改变了人们对于自己家乡的看法and change what people thought and felt about their own land. 随着时间的推移In the course of time,他自己也改变了he himself would change --年轻时让他痴迷的美景as the rapturous visions that sustained him in his youth逐渐淡去lost their power,失去了吸引力and began to fade --人到晚年他越来越变成一位and as he came increasingly to resemble和蔼慈祥值得信任的业界前辈the avuncular, trusted elder statesman of his old age.但是在年轻时But as a young man,他曾见过内华达山脉上的景色he had seen something in the mountains of the Sierra Nevada -- 由此产生的共鸣震彻天地something that resonated far out into the landscape直达灵魂的深处and down into the deepest recesses of his soul --这种共鸣在他此后的人生中萦绕不散that would haunt him for the rest of his days,也让他穷尽一生致力去传达and that he would spend his entire life trying to convey.我认为美国历史上I can't think of any artist没有哪一位艺术家比安塞尔·亚当斯in our history who was more American更能代表美国than Ansel Adams.他成长于一座只有五十年历史的城市He grew up in a city that was only fifty years old....他的作品是最典型的美国风格his subject matter was as quintessentially American as it possibly could be. 威廉·A·特内奇安塞尔·亚当斯信托基金会我认为我们与欧洲最大的不同在于The thing that separates us from the Old World, more than anything I think, 我们拥有大♥片♥风景优美的荒野is that we have all of these extraordinary great pieces of wild land这也是安塞尔毕生致力保护的东西which Ansel of course devoted much of his life's energy to saving.美国是他创作的源动力So his cause was American.他的作品正是关于美国的His work was about America...他很古怪He was odd.安德莉亚·格蕾·斯蒂尔曼安塞尔·亚当斯的编辑没错他非常古怪Yes,he was odd.在他儿时的照片里The pictures of him as a child,他看上去就很奇怪he looks really odd.而当他长到二十出头And he was actually kind of odd-looking when he was a young man, too,依然是一个长相奇怪的年轻人in his early twenties.招风的耳朵渐秃的头发These ears stuck out and he was balding.还镶着假牙And then he did have false teeth and我认识他的时候他就有副不错的假牙by the time I knew him he had a pretty good set,可是安一副好假牙可不是一两天的事but I think it took a while to get a good set of false teeth.他身材修长出奇地瘦He was gangly and extremely, extremely thin.还留着黑胡子And then he had this black beard.在山峦俱乐部早期的远足照片里The pictures of him from the early Sierra Club hikes,其中的几张看上去几乎有些吓人he almost looks kind of scary in some of them,但他有着一种享受生活的热情but he also had this joie de vivre,他的古道热肠和幽默风趣and this sense of enthusiasm and humor会立刻使人为之倾心that just swept people off their feet --关于他独特的性格人们褒贬不一well,either you loved it or you hated it.1902年冬他出生于旧金山He was born Ansel Easton Adams in the city of San Francisco起名安塞尔·伊斯顿·亚当斯in the winter of 1902 --他家曾经富裕如今逐渐没落the only child of a once prosperous family他是家中独子on its way down in the world.他最早的记忆就是躺在婴儿车里His earliest memory was of lying in a pram看着屋顶上的雾气watching silent fingers of fog悄无声息地向东流去flowing east above his family's house --那是一栋坐落于城西一隅a lonely structure perched high above the dunes建于沙丘之上的孤独建筑beyond the western edge of town,它俯瞰着金门海峡overlooking the waters of the Golden Gate.他总说是这些早年的生活环境和体验He always said he was formed by those early landscape experiences 塑造了他的性格and where he was living.如果你曾在旧金山定居过I mean,once you've lived a while in San Francisco,你一定会体验到那种雾气悄然而至you can feel that fog kind of tiptoeing in,声音也随之改变的感觉where it changes the sounds这种感觉会浸入骨髓and kind of gets in to your bones.或者在阳光明媚的好天气里Or when there's a glorious clear day...一切都是那么美轮美奂it's just breathtakingly beautiful.这些都是安塞尔最重要的经历And that was just part and parcel of Ansel.1906年4月18日早晨On the morning of April 18th,1906,当时刚满四岁的他when he was a little more than four,被旧金山大地震的一场余震掀飞an immense aftershock of the great San Francisco earthquake 一头撞上了花♥园♥里的矮墙sent him flying head--first into a low garden wall,他的鼻子被严重撞伤severely breaking his nose --从此明显地歪向左边which forever after veered violently to the left.一年之后One year later,他祖父在木材生意中赚取的财富the fortune in timber his grandfather had assembled在淘金热之后的一年里in the years following the Gold Rush就是1907年金融危机时都化作泡影finished collapsing completely in the Panic of 1907 --这使得他的父亲面临巨大的财政困难plunging his father into a sea of financial difficulties,他的母亲因此患上抑郁症and his mother into a depression再也没能痊愈from which she never fully recovered.在家族最后的岁月里At the end of the day,也就是1907年他祖父去世时by the time his grandfather died in 1907,家族几乎彻底破产了the family was pretty flat busted,这严重影响了安塞尔父母的关系and that deeply affected the relationship between Ansel's parents 在安塞尔的成长过程中and created a lot of stress in the home家里气氛非常紧张while Ansel was growing up.他是个孤独的孩子He was a lonely child,生活在海边阴郁的房♥子里in the gloomy,troubled house by the sea --体弱多病多愁善感often ill, prone to fits of uncontrollable weeping,身体里还涌动着抑制不住的旺盛精力and filled with a restless surging energy he could not contain.接二连三的入学失败Enrolled without success in one school after another,他经常连在桌子前安坐都无法做到he often found it difficult even to remain seated at his desk.安塞尔在自传里清楚地写道In Ansel's autobiography he makes it very clear自己并不是一个寻常的孩子that he was not an altogether ordinary child.在我的印象里Certainly my impression他是一个神经紧张的孩子is that he was a very nervous child.与他人的相处And that relationships with other people对他来说并非易事were not easy for him.他是个极难相处的孩子He was probably a very difficult kid to live with,他总把父母逼疯and I think he drove his parents crazy.他总是精力充沛充满活力He was very full of energy and full of vitality对生活满怀好奇可它们太过分散and tremendous drive -- but it was scattered,散落在生活各处it was all over the place...毫无疑问I think, almost certainly,如果放到现在if it were today,他会被诊断为阅读障碍he'd be considered to have been dyslexic.他自己也曾说过He said himself, you know,"若是现在我一定算是个多动症儿童""Today, I'd be considered a hyperactive child."他的身体里涌动着There was this incredible chaos or fire无以名状的能量躁动和激♥情♥or energy or something roaring around inside and,几欲迸发all the time trying to get out...在他只有十二岁的时候Abandoning the idea of conventional schooling他温文尔雅的父亲查尔斯when the boy was only twelve,完全放弃了传统的学校教育his gentle,courtly father,Charles,而是将自己所有的爱和心血poured all the love and energy he had都倾注到了自己顽皮的独子身上into his difficult only son:安排私人家庭教师教授代数和希腊文arranging private tuition in algebra and Greek,允许他在屋外的沙丘和峭壁上闲逛数小时and letting him roam for hours along the dunes and cliffs beyond the house 去想他去的地方anywhere his boundless energy took him.他的父亲太宠他了His father just adored him,太宠了just adored him.安塞尔很古怪But Ansel was so odd,但同时也异常地聪慧but at the same time he was so intelligent,对生活充满着这般激♥情♥with this zest for life.这个孩子谁看了都会喜欢I mean,who wouldn't have been enchanted by this child... 他父亲就是不顾一切地纵容他He just indulged him to an extraordinary degree.他意识到自己的孩子与众不同He realized he had a very unusual son --这种与众不同既有积极的一面both unusual in the positive sense and unusual也有消极的一面in the somewhat negative sense...安塞尔十三岁的时候When Ansel was thirteen,他父亲给他放了一年的假he got him a year's pass带他去参加世博会to the World's Fair,巴拿马太平洋万国博览会the Panama Pacific Exposition.这对他来说大有帮助And that was a fabulous idea,安塞尔每天都去博览会Ansel went every single day and he learned more这一年学到的东西比在学校还要多there than he ever could have in a year at school...我想不管是当时还是现在I don't think a lot of fathers then or now很少有父亲会容忍♥安塞尔这般独特的性格would have tolerated Ansel's unique character,而他的父亲并不只是容忍♥他and here was a father who not only tolerated it,更培养了他but nurtured it....1914年秋天的一个下午One afternoon in the fall of 1914,当时他还只有十二岁when he was still only twelve,他开始为自己内心涌动的复杂情绪he began to find a focus for the chaotic feelings寻找一个专注点that welled up inside him.他就是那种所谓的天才He was one of those geniuses,他开始弹钢琴时还只是个孩子and sat down at the piano when he was just a kid and无人指导练了数月就能视奏了within a couple months without a teacher could read music at sight... 他几乎是出于本能地The piano was something that he instinctually爱上了钢琴fell absolutely in love with然而学习钢琴并非易事and yet it was very demanding.高度的纪律性和精准度The height of discipline and rigor,每次数小时的音阶练习practicing scales for hours at a time,对每个孩子来说都很难hard for any kid to do,但对他这种注意力不集中but really hard for a kid有些好动的孩子来说who's kind of scattered尤其困难and a little bit hyperactive...但他将所有散乱的精力都放在这上面But he somehow focused all this chaotic energy他真的做到了and by God he did,他真的很专注于此I mean he really focused it.在之后的几年里In the years to come,尽管家中财政依旧困难despite the family's continuing financial troubles --安塞尔的父亲还是竭尽所能Ansel's father would do everything he could来培养孩子非同寻常的音乐天赋to nurture the boy's unusual musical gift --他聘请了能请到的最好的老师hiring the best instructors he could find,分期购置了价值六千美元的梅森&汉姆林钢琴and purchasing on installment a $6000 Mason and Hamlin piano.即便安塞尔年已八十Even when Ansel was eighty years old,每每说到他父亲的时候he lowered his voice and spoke with reverence仍会降低嗓门语带尊敬when he spoke about his father.他打心底明白父亲对他的付出And he really understood what his father had done for him.我总是对父亲的力量和勇气感到吃惊I often wonder at the strength and courage my father had他让我脱离传统的学校教育in taking me out of the traditional school situation给予我超乎寻常的学习经历and providing me with these extraordinary learning experiences. 我很确信如果不是他I am certain he established为我树立了正确的人生方向the positive direction of my life我的生活将会充斥着迷茫和混沌that otherwise, could have been confused and chaotic.在沙丘上成长的日子里I trace who I am and the direction of my development我一直在思索我是谁思索未来的方向to those years of growing up in our house on the dunes --心中梦想的火花propelled especially by an internal spark在父亲的温柔呵护下tenderly kept alive and glowing熊熊燃烧熠熠生辉by my father.世界博览会开阔了他的视野The World's Fair had broadened his horizons;音乐为他开启了一个充满美与秩序的世界music had opened up a new world of beauty and order.但他万万没有想到But nothing could have prepared him for另一种形式的律动会影响他如此之深the stunning impact of another kind of music --初次接触到它是在1916年夏天which he first encountered in the summer of 1916,高高的内华达山脉上high in the mountains of the Sierra Nevada.在他十四岁的时候有一次生病When he was 14, his aunt gave him a book阿姨给了他一本讲述约塞米蒂的书to read about Yosemite when he was ill由约塞米蒂最早的主要发起人by the earliest major promoter of Yosemite,J·M·哈钦斯所著J.M.Hutchings --这是一部奇妙而浪漫的作品and it was a wonderful, romantic book描写了印第安文化伟大的瓦尔哈拉about the Indians and this great Valhalla,以及这片美国土地this American place,如同"神之宫殿"一般a "Throne room of the gods," as it were...安塞尔一下子就被吸引了And Ansel was swept away by it.1916年6月1日On June 1st, 1916,经不住小安塞尔的百般恳求propelled by a ceaseless barrage of youthful pleadings and entreaties 全家人第一次启程从旧金山前往约塞米蒂the family set off for the first time on the two day journey开始了两日的旅行from San Francisco to Yosemite --火车隆隆作响穿过炙热的中♥央♥山谷rumbling by train across the shimmering heat of the Central Valley, 越过内华达山脉被炙烤成棕色的山麓up through the parched brown foothills of the Sierra抵达艾尔波特until they reached El Portal --再换乘露天巴士上山then on by open bus still higher,循着美熹德河清澈的流水following the pristine waters of the Merced River深入重重群山之中ever deeper into the mountains --最后河流向东急转until at length the river angled sharply to the east,"壮丽迷人的约塞米蒂" 亚当斯后来写道and "The splendor of Yosemite," Adams later wrote,"骤然出现在眼前""burst upon us."他说 "这里四处闪烁着光芒""There was," he said, "light everywhere.""我的新纪♥元♥开始了""A new era began for me."他对它一见钟情It was love at first sight.我认为全太阳系不会有第二个地方I don't think there's any place that hits you in the solar能像约塞米蒂谷这般初见就击中你的心魄plexis the way the first time you come into Yosemite Valley. 这种魅力令人难以抗拒It's simply overwhelming.相比在提顿县和北喀斯喀特山脉You're much closer to it,你离它更近you're much more surrounded by it,被它更紧密地环绕着than you are in the Tetons or in the North Cascades.真的很棒It's awesome.将这些融合到一起对安塞尔来说And you put all those things together, and Ansel,就改变了他的人生it changed his life,彻底改变了他的人生it completely changed his life.那就是一瞬间的事And that was it -- bang!约塞米蒂成为了他的第二故乡Yosemite became his home place...到达山谷不久后Shortly after arriving in the valley,父亲送给了他一个简单而宿命般的礼物his father presented him with a simple, fateful gift:一台柯达布朗尼1号♥盒式相机a Kodak No.1 Box Brownie camera,自带皮套和背带in its own leather case with a strap.学会如何操作相机之后After being shown how the simple apparatus worked,他跑开了he was off --从山谷的一端跑向另一端racing from one end of the valley to the other,拍下他看到的每样东西shooting everything he saw --圆顶尖峰溪流草地domes, spires, streams, meadows,瀑布悬崖waterfalls and cliffs --乐此不彼地尝试着endlessly trying,他的朋友南茜·纽霍尔后来说道his friend Nancy Newhall later said,"将他的奇想和喜悦注入这个神奇的小盒子"To pour into the magic little box his wonder and his ecstasy. 他决心捕捉这番美景Somehow he must capture this beauty,呈现铺展在他面前的somehow convey this opening before him of新天地的景致"a new heaven and a new earth."我想他找到的I think that what he found是一个摆脱枷锁的机会was a chance to break out of the bonds,这枷锁在他童年时期禁锢着他的身心both psychologically and physically, of his childhood...就像是释放了他内心的恶魔A kind of liberation from his own internal demons,诸如紧张的家庭关系as it were, the family tensions,旧金山阴冷多雾的天气the kind of cold and foggy environment of San Francisco,而这里就像是巨大的游乐场and out here was this giant playground.所以我觉得And so I think...这里为他创造了另一个身份here was a chance to create another identity,乔纳森·斯波尔丁传记作家可以远离他的家庭away from his family,远离这些纷扰away from these illnesses.在之后的几年里In the years to come,音乐和群山成了他的两大癖好music and the mountains would become his twin obsessions. 每年秋天回到旧金山Each fall, back in San Francisco,他就一心投入到钢琴的学习中he threw himself into the study of the piano --常常一天练习六小时以上often practicing more than six hours a day.每年夏天他就回约塞米蒂Each summer, he made his way back up to Yosemite --迫不及待地开始探寻奇妙的风景eager to explore the wondrous landscape,钻研他的新爱好and to work on his new hobby.越高越好Higher the better.约翰·沙科夫斯基摄影师兼策展人爬得越高Higher up in the mountains,就能拍到越好的照片the better the work got,对我来说是这样it seems to me.他最初的作品仅是些快照His first photographs were little more than snapshots --权作留念aids to memory.这些照片仅仅传达出Disappointed that they conveyed拍摄瞬间他所见所感的极小一部分so little of what he had seen and felt这令他感到失望at the moment of exposure,他于是开始竭其所能地he set out to learn everything he could学习摄影技术about the photographic process自学如何冲印底片teaching himself how to develop and print his own negatives, 并用不同方法进行试验and experimenting with different approaches --包括画意摄影including pictorialism,这是当时流行的一种绘画般的柔焦风格the painterly, soft-focus style then in vogue,以艺术的名义that in the name of art追求照片柔和化和模糊化sought to soften and blur the photographic image.1920年6月8日June 8th, 1920.亲爱的父亲Dear Father:如今我深信不疑I am more than ever convinced要想诠释这里的美景that the only possible way只有一个方法to interpret the scenes hereabout就是运用印象派的表现手法is through an impressionistic vision.冷漠而物质化的表现手法A cold material representation无法表现山脉的宏伟gives one no conception whatever of the great size以及群山的广袤and distances of these mountains.安塞尔Ansel.1920年夏In the summer of 1920 --他决定做一名音乐会钢琴家determined now to pursue a career as a concert pianist --他开始在山谷中寻找he began searching the valley夏季时用来练习的钢琴for a summer piano to practice on很快就找到了一架and soon found one,在当地画家哈里·贝斯特的工作室中in the studio of a local painter named Harry Best他十七岁的金发女儿whose fair-haired seventeen year old daughter很快成为这个瘦高的十九岁小伙quickly became another reason for the tall, gangling nineteen-year-old 造访的理由to visit.从记录上看On paper,维吉尼亚是完美的伴侣Virginia was the perfect mate...她热爱诗歌♥She loved poetry,正学习做个古典歌♥手she was studying to be a classical singer,她了解音乐与文学so she was involved in music and literature,玛丽·斯特里特·阿林德传记作家这些也都深受安塞尔的喜爱all the things that Ansel cared most deeply about...她还喜欢远足And she could hike;我敢说她当时比安塞尔走得还快She could out hike Ansel, I bet, at that time.他们俩交往了很长时间感情时好时坏It was a very long courtship, off again on again.有好几次安塞尔都放弃了Several times Ansel gave up,安妮·亚当斯·赫尔姆斯女儿他又投入到了音乐中gave his life to music again,这样就用不着理会婚姻琐事which didn't include getting married,后来他们又重新在一起了and then they'd get back together again...1923年3月29日March 29th,1923.亲爱的维吉尼亚Dear Virginia.最近我进山的欲望The desire to get into the mountains越来越强烈了has grown very strong in me lately...我时常希望如今的约塞米蒂how often I wish that the Valley could be now能够像四十年前那样like it was forty years ago --一片纯粹的荒野a pure wilderness,只有一条马车道蜿蜒其中with only a wagon road through it,没有汽车没有人群and no automobiles nor mobs.我渴望回到山中I long for the high places,它们那么干净纯洁遥不可及they are so clean and pure and untouched.每年夏天Each summer,他走得越来越远进入约塞米蒂谷外he ventured farther and farther up into the rugged high country 崎岖的山林深处beyond Yosemite Valley,有时候是独自一人sometimes on his own,有时候是跟山峦俱乐部的成员一起and sometimes with members of the Sierra Club,它是约翰·缪尔三十年前建立的荒野组织the wilderness group John Muir had founded thirty years before, 数天的爬山和远足天不亮就启程long days of climbing and hiking that began before dawn天完全黑了才结束and often ended well after dark,只要可以他就拍照making pictures when he could,时而漫步在and wandering, he wrote,"世界与天际融为透明的一体"他写道in "Translucent unity with the world and sky."1923年夏近午时分Late one morning in the summer of 1923,他在山谷以东荆棘丛生wandering amidst the harsh and bleakly beautiful荒凉又美丽的山中漫步high country east of the valley,平时身处高山he came as close as he ever would偶尔涌动的激荡情绪to capturing in words the soaring emotions这一刻前所未有地化作了文字that sometimes came over him in the high mountains.我在克拉克山以西蜿蜒的山脊上攀爬I was climbing the long ridge west of Mount Clark.那是一个清晨寒风凛冽日光通透It was one of those mornings where the sunlight is burnished with a keen wind 片片长长的云羽and long feathers of cloud在高远素洁的天空上飘动move in a lofty sky.银色的光洒在每一根草上The silver light turned every blade of grass每一粒砂上and every particle of sand泛出熠熠金属般的光泽into a luminous metallic splendor;周遭万物无论多么渺小there was nothing, however small,都沐浴在这明亮的风中that did not clash in the bright wind,向通透明澈的天空射出光芒之箭that did not send arrows of light through the glassy air.在通往山脊嘎吱作响的小路上I was suddenly arrested in the long crunching path up the ridge我突然明白了光的真谛by an exceedingly pointed awareness of the light.那一刻我驻足了The moment I paused,。

TR A N S LA TI O N S译林中篇小说133永失乔纳森玛丽萨库珀把车开上2．32号公路，从朴次茅斯走这条路可以到二十英里之外的绿港。

她心中思绪万千：就是这条路，她和乔纳森多少次来回大市场都走的这条路，从大市场里他们曾拖回各种日用品、没什么用但却昂贵的漂亮装饰品，还有难得一见的艺术珍品。

七年前他们搬到缅因时找到的理想家园，就靠在这条路边。

这条路去年5月他们过结婚周年庆时还曾走过。

但今天晚上，所有这些记忆都只有一个出口：她的生命中失去了乔纳森。

伴着身后渐沉的夕阳，她驶过一个个缓缓的弯道，盼望着能丢掉那些令人烦恼却又挥之不去的念头。

不要去想了!看看你的周围，她命令自己，看看这错落有致的景色：厚厚的紫色云团悬挂在天空，云下是一片片的枫树叶和橡树叶——那金色的树叶，那心一般火红的树叶。

看看照耀在铁杉与松树之上的日光，给黝黑的树干披挂上一道耀眼的彩虹。

看看牛儿们排成一列纵队，在结束一天的活动后自觉自愿地回到栏厩，多么滑稽可笑。

看看高速公路五英里之外那个小村庄里[美国]杰弗里迪弗著杨雅然译庄严的白色尖塔。

再看看你自己：三十四岁的女人，开着轻巧漂亮的银色丰田车，飞速前进，奔向新的生活。

不再有乔纳森的生活。

二十分钟后她到了小镇丹那维尔。

镇上只有两处信号灯。

她在第一处信号灯前停了下来，拉紧手刹，不经意地向右扫了一眼，这一眼却令她怦然心跳。

那是间出售船用及渔用工具的商店，她看到的是橱窗里一张游艇引擎护理的广告。

在缅因州沿海的这些地区，游艇的图案形象无处不在，旅客的画上、照片上、T恤上、马克杯上和钥匙链上都有游艇。

当然，成千上万的实物也是随处可见：水里的，拖车上的，码头上的，停在前院里的——游艇在新英格兰就好像南方乡村街区里的皮卡车。

但令她心跳加速的是这幅广告画上的游艇，一艘克里斯克拉夫特①游艇，很大，约有36到38英尺。

很像乔纳森的游艇，事实上几乎是一模一样的：颜色一样，结构也一样。

①具有百年历史的美国游艇制造商，其产品以工艺精湛、款式经典、高可靠性和高性能著称。

（1）神话典故引申词adamantADJ. hard; inflexible.源自Adam（亚当）amazonN. female warrior.源自"亚马逊"：神话中一支高大强壮的女战士族armadaN. fleet of warships.源自无敌舰队（1588年西班牙进攻英国时的舰队）aureoleN. sun’s corona; halo.源自Aurora（曙光女神）auroralADJ. pertaining to the aurora borealis.源自Aurora（曙光女神）bacchanalianADJ. drunken.源自bacchus（酒神）centaurN. mythical figure, half man and half horse.源自【希神】半人半马的怪物联想记忆：“身-头”chimericalADJ. fantastically improbable; highly unrealistic; imaginative. 源自【希神】chimera（吐火女怪：狮头、羊身、蛇尾）cupidityN. greed.源自cupid（爱神丘比特）elysianADJ. relating to paradise; blissful.源自【希神】Elysium（天堂）iridescentADJ. exhibiting rainbowlike colors.源自Iris（彩虹女神）jovialADJ. good-natured; merry.源自Jove, Jupiter（木星，传说在其影响力下出生者天性快乐）juggernautN. irresistible crushing force.源自典故：克利须那在印度东部普利进行的一年一度的游行中，克利须那的神像被载于巨车或大型马车上，善男信女甘愿投身死于其轮下。

labyrinthN. maze.来源：Labyrinth原为建在克里特的迷宫lethalADJ. deadly.源自Lethe（阴间的一条河，人饮其水就会忘掉过去一切）lethargicADJ. drowsy; dull.源自Lethe（阴间的一条河，人饮其水就会忘掉过去一切）lilliputianADJ. extremely small.源自lilliput, 小说Gulliver’s Travels中的小人国martialADJ. warlike.源自Mars（火星, 战神）mercurialADJ. capricious; changing; fickle.源自Mercury（水星, 水银）musev. ponder.源自希神：缪斯为宙斯和记忆女神的九个女儿，每一个掌管不同的文艺或者科学词义演变：文艺女神—灵感—沉思谐音记忆：“默思”nemesisN. someone seeking revenge.源自【希神】，Nemesis=复仇女神odysseyN. long, eventful journey.源自荷马史诗，奥德赛在特洛伊战争后，在外流浪十年，历经艰险才返乡.plutocracyN. society ruled by the wealthy.源自Plutus（财神、冥王星）proteanADJ. versatile; able to take on many forms.源自Proteus（海神，能随意变换形状以困惑他的俘虏）saturnineADJ. gloomy. 反: genial源自Saturn（土星, 农神, 铅）satyrN. half-human, half-bestial being in the court of Dionysus, portrayed as wanton and cunning.源自希神：Satyr是一个被描绘成具有人形却有山羊尖耳、腿和短角的森林之神，性喜无节制地寻欢作乐spartanADJ. lacking luxury and comfort; sternly disciplined.源自Sparta（斯巴达）sphinx-likeADJ. enigmatic; mysterious.源自希神：斯芬克斯（古代希腊神话中带翼的狮身女面怪物）专杀那些猜不出其谜语的人stygianADJ. gloomy; hellish; deathly.源自Styx（地狱里的一条河）sylvanADJ. pertaining to the woods; rustic.源自拉丁语Silvaus（森林之神）tantalizev. tease; torture with disappointment.源自Tantalus（因泄漏天机被罚站阴府，又饿又渴，食物和水近在眼前，却拿不到）thespianADJ. pertaining to drama.源自Thespis（古希腊雅典诗人, 悲剧创始者）titanicADJ. gigantic.源自Titans（被宙斯击败的一些不守法巨人）zephyrN. gentle breeze; west wind.源自希神：西风之神（2）动物引申词aquilineADJ. curved, hooked.He can be recognized by his aquiline nose, curved like the beak of the eagle.源自eagle, aquil为eagle的拉丁体asinineADJ. stupid.Your asinine remarks prove that you have not given this problem any serious consideration.源自ass, asinine是ass的形容词bovineADJ. cowlike; placid and dull.Nothing excites Esther; even when she won the state lottery, she still preserved her air of bovine calm.源自bull, bovine是bull, cow的形容词canineADJ. related to dogs; doglike.Some days the canine population of Berkeley seems almost to outnumber the human population.源自canid（拉丁语，犬科类动物）coltishLively and playful; frisky.源自colt（小马）cowv. terrorize; intimidate.The little boy was so cowed by the hulking bully that he gave up his lunch money without a word of protest. 由名词cow（牛）转化而成cowerv. shrink quivering, as from fear.The frightened child cowered in the corner of the room.源自cow（牛）crabbedADJ. sour; peevish.The children avoided the crabbed old man because he scolded them when they made noise.源自crab（螃蟹），由螃蟹的特性引申而成。

Giant Pandas:The Treasures of China's WildernessGiant pandas are one of the most beloved and iconic animals in the world.Known for their distinctive black-and-white fur,gentle demeanor, and unique diet,these remarkable creatures have become symbols of wildlife conservation.This essay will explore the characteristics,behavior, habitat,and ecological importance of giant pandas,as well as their interactions with humans.Characteristics of Giant PandasGiant pandas belong to the bear family(Ursidae)and have several distinctive features:Physical Appearance:Giant pandas are easily recognizable by their black-and-white coloration.They have black fur around their eyes,ears, shoulders,and legs,with the rest of their body covered in white fur.This unique coloration helps them blend into their natural habitat of bamboo forests.Size and Lifespan:Adult giant pandas weigh between220to330pounds and measure about4to6feet in length.Males are typically larger than females.In the wild,giant pandas can live up to20years,while those in captivity can live over30years.Adaptations:Giant pandas have several adaptations that help them survive in their environment.They have large molar teeth and strong jaw muscles for crushing bamboo,their primary food source.Their front paws have a"pseudo-thumb,"an extended wrist bone that helps them grasp bamboo stalks.Behavior and Social StructureGiant pandas exhibit a range of interesting behaviors and social structures:Diet and Foraging:Giant pandas are primarily herbivorous,with bamboo making up about99%of their diet.They consume various parts of the bamboo plant,including leaves,stems,and shoots.Occasionally,they may eat other vegetation or small animals.Pandas spend about10-16 hours a day foraging and eating to meet their nutritional needs.Solitary Lifestyle:Giant pandas are generally solitary animals,with each individual occupying a defined territory.They communicate with each other through vocalizations,scent markings,and visual signals.During the breeding season,males and females come together briefly to mate.Breeding and Parenting:Female giant pandas give birth to one or two cubs after a gestation period of about5months,but usually only one cub survives.Panda cubs are born blind and helpless,weighing only about3-5ounces.The mother cares for the cub for about18months, during which time the cub learns essential survival skills.Activity Patterns:Giant pandas are crepuscular,meaning they are most active during the early morning and late afternoon.They spend much of their time foraging,eating,and resting.Habitat and DistributionGiant pandas are native to China and inhabit specific regions:Bamboo Forests:Giant pandas are found in the mountainous regions of central China,primarily in Sichuan,Shaanxi,and Gansu provinces.They live in temperate bamboo forests at elevations of5,000to10,000feet, where there is a plentiful supply of bamboo.Protected Areas:Due to habitat loss and fragmentation,giant pandas are now mostly confined to protected areas and nature reserves.Conservation efforts have focused on creating and maintaining these protected habitats to ensure the survival of panda populations.Ecological ImportanceGiant pandas play a crucial role in their ecosystems:Bamboo Forest Health:By feeding on bamboo,giant pandas help maintain the health and diversity of bamboo forests.Their foraging behavior promotes the growth and regeneration of bamboo plants, which are vital for the forest ecosystem.Keystone Species:As a keystone species,giant pandas have a significant impact on their environment.Their presence helps maintain the balance of the ecosystem,benefiting other species that share their habitat.Biodiversity Indicators:The health of giant panda populations can serve as an indicator of the overall health of their habitat.Protecting pandas and their habitats can benefit a wide range of other species,including plants,animals,and insects.Interactions with HumansThe relationship between giant pandas and humans is complex and multifaceted:Cultural Significance:Giant pandas hold a special place in Chinese culture and are considered national treasures.They are symbols of peace,friendship,and conservation.Pandas are often used in diplomatic efforts,known as"panda diplomacy,"where China loans pandas to other countries as a gesture of goodwill.Conservation and Threats:Giant pandas face several threats,including habitat loss,climate change,and low reproductive rates.Conservation efforts aim to protect panda populations and their habitats through measures such as habitat restoration,anti-poaching patrols,and captive breeding programs.Ecotourism and Education:Giant pandas are major attractions for wildlife enthusiasts and tourists.Responsible ecotourism can raise awareness about panda conservation and generate funding for conservation cational programs in zoos and wildlife sanctuaries also play a vital role in promoting panda conservation.ConclusionGiant pandas are remarkable animals that play a vital role in the health and balance of their ecosystems.Their unique characteristics,gentle behavior,and ecological importance make them key components of the world's biodiversity.Understanding and protecting giant pandas is essential for the preservation of natural environments and the continued appreciation of these gentle giants.By fostering a deeper appreciation for giant pandas and supporting conservation efforts,we can ensure that these magnificent creatures continue to thrive and inspire future generations.Protecting giant pandas means safeguarding the rich and diverse ecosystems they inhabit, ultimately benefiting all forms of life on our planet.。

爱如榕树，荫庇学子-----毕尔，中国将永记你的英名【侨民档案】毕尔.尤素福.阿布.哈特尔生于1938年1月17日，祖籍黎巴嫩，在贝鲁特长大成人。

年过5旬的毕尔，生前有着多重身份，曾任黎巴嫩中东公司驻台湾办事处负责人、台湾环球国际快运服务公司总裁、黎巴嫩环球快运公司董事长、台湾“扶轮社”奠基人、国际扶轮社黎巴嫩分社主席等职。

20世纪的1974年，毕尔只身来到台湾谋求事业上的发展长达20年之久。

期间，创建了环球国际快运服务公司，时至1994年间。

随着事业上的飞速发展，毕尔心想事成，万事如愿以偿，有幸娶了家在台湾聪慧靓丽的王相如为妻，相依为伴。

随后夫唱妇随，在这位年轻漂亮、贤惠能干妻子的鼎力协助下，毕尔于1994年黎巴嫩战后将公司总部迁往黎巴嫩首都贝鲁特的杰拉迪地区，（20世纪70年代，毕尔只身来到台湾谋求事业上的发展，从1974年到1994年，20年之间，毕尔事业上飞速发展。

期间，创建了环球国际快运服务公司。

毕尔心想事成，万事如愿以偿，有幸娶了家在台湾聪慧靓丽的王相如为妻，相依为伴。

随后夫唱妇随，在这位年轻漂亮、贤惠能干妻子的鼎力协助下，1994年黎巴嫩战后，毕尔将公司总部迁往黎巴嫩首都贝鲁特的杰拉迪地区，）并且还在美国纽约、中国上海、香港、台湾和泰国曼谷、新加坡开设了分公司和办事处，( 开设了分公司成立了办事处)取得了事业上的大发展。

可以说，此时的毕尔公司效益蒸蒸日上，业务范围遍及世界各地。

毕尔一直很关注中国的希望工程事业，关注慈善事业，关注贫困地区的校园文化事业。

献爱心，中国希望工程古书云：“世间最聪慧的是人，最亮丽的是风景，最崇高的是事业和信仰，最杰出的光辉榜样是人民英雄。

”“人最宝贵的东西是生命。

生命属于我们只有一次。

一个人的生命应该这样度过：当他回首往事时，他不因虚度年华而悔恨，也不因过去碌碌无为而羞耻—这样，在他临死时，可以说：我整个生命和精力已献给了世界上最壮丽的事业—为人类的自由和解放而斗争。

Book IXIn the One-Eyed Giant’s Cave(独眼巨人的洞穴)Odysseus(奥德修斯曾指挥特洛伊战争，献木马计，使希腊获胜）, the great teller of tales故事, launched out on his story: “Alcinous阿尔喀诺俄斯, majesty威严, shining among your island people,what a fine thing it is to listen to such a bard吟游诗人as we have here—the man sings like a god.The crown of life, I‟d say. There‟s nothing betterthan when deep joy holds sway throughout the realmand banqueters up and down the palace sit in ranks,enthralled to hear the bard, and before them all, the tablesheaped with bread and meats, and drawing wine from a mixing-bowlthe steward makes his rounds and keeps the winecups flowing.This, to my mind, is the best that life can offer.But nowyo u‟re set on probing the bitter pains I‟ve borne,so I‟m to weep and grieve, it seems, still more.Well then, what shall I go through first,what shall I save for last?What pains—the gods have given me my share.Now let me begin by telling you my name …so you may know it well and I in times to come,if I can escape the fatal day, will be your host,your sworn friend, though my home is far from here.I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, known to the worldfor every kind of craft—my fame has reached the skies.Sunny Ithaca is my home. Atop her stands our seamark,Mount Neriton‟s leafy ridges shimmering in the wind.Around her a ring of islands circle side-by-side,Dulichion, Same, wooded Zacynthus too, but minelies low and away, the farthest out to sea,rearing into the western duskwhile the others face the east and breaking day.Mine is a rugged land but good for raising sons—and I myself, I know no sweeter sight on earththan a man‟s own native country.True enough,Calypso the lustrous goddess tried to hold me back,deep in her arching caverns, craving me for a husband.So did Circe, holding me just as warmly in her halls,the bewitching queen of Aeaea keen to have me too.But they never won the heart inside me, never.So nothing is as sweet as a man‟s own coun try,his own parents, even though he‟s settled downin some luxurious house, off in a foreign landand far from those who bore him.No more. Come,let me tell you about the voyage fraught with hardshipZeus inflicted on me, homeward bound from Troy …The wind drove me out of Ilium on to Ismarus,theCicones‟ stronghold. There I sacked the city,killed the men, but as for the wives and plunder,that rich haul we dragged away from the place—we shared it round so no one, not on my account,would go deprived of his fair share of spoils.Then I urged them to cut and run, set sail,but would they listen? Not those mutinous fools;there was too much wine to swill, too many sheep to slaughterdown along the beach, and shambling longhorn cattle.And all the while the Cicones sought out other Cicones,called for help from their neighbors living inland:a larger force, and stronger soldiers too,skilled hands at fighting men from chariots,skilled, when a crisis broke, to fight on foot.Out of the morning mist they came against us—packed as the leaves and spears that flower forth in spring—and Zeus presented us with disaster, me and my comradesdoomed to suffer blow on mortal blow. Lining up,both armies battled it out against our swift ships,both raked each other with hurtling bronze lances.Long as morning rose and the blessed day grew strongerwe stood and fought them off, massed as they were, but then,when the sun wheeled past the hour for unyoking oxen,theCicones broke our lines and beat us down at last.Out of each ship, six men-at-arms were killed;the rest of us rowed away from certain doom.From there we sailed on, glad to escape our deathyet sick at heart for the dear companions we had lost.But I would not let our rolling ships set sail until the crewshad raised the triple cry, saluting each poor comradecut down by the fierce Cicones on that plain.Now Zeus who masses the stormclouds hit the fleetwith the North Wind—a howling, demonic gale, shrouding over in thunderheads the earth and sea at once—and night swept downfrom the sky and the ships went plunging headlong on,our sails slashed to rags by the hurricane‟s blast!We struck them—cringing at death we rowed our shipsto the nearest shoreline, pulled with all our power.There, for two nights, two days, we lay by, no letup,eating our hearts out, bent with pain and bone-tired.When Dawn with her lovely locks brought on the third day,then stepping the masts and hoisting white sails high,we lounged at the oarlocks, letting wind and helmsmenkeep us true on course …And now, at long last, I might have reached my native land unscathed,but just as I doubled Malea‟s cape, a tide-ripand the North Wind drove me way off course,careering past Cythera.Nine whole days I was borne along by rough, deadly windson the fish-infested sea. Then on the tenthour squadron reached the land of the Lotus-eaters,people who eat the lotus, mellow fruit and flower.We disembarked on the coast, drew water thereand crewmen snatched a meal by the swift ships.Once we‟d had our fill of food and drink I senta detail ahead, two picked men and a third, a runner,to scout out who might live there—men like us perhaps,who live on bread? So off they went and soon enoughthey mingled among the natives, Lotus-eaters, Lotus-eaterswho had no notion of killing my companions, not at all,they simply gave them the lotus to taste instead …Any crewmen who ate the lotus, the honey-sweet fruit,lost all desire to send a message back, much less return,their only wish to linger there with the Lotus-eaters,grazing on lotus, all memory of the journey homedissolved forever. But I brought them back, backto the hollow ships, and streaming tears—I forced them,hauled them under the rowing benches, lashed them fastand shouted out commands to my other, steady comrades: …Quick, no time to lose, embark in the racing ships!‟—so none could eat the lotus, forget the voyage home.They swung aboard at once, they sat to the oars in ranksand in rhythm churned the water white with stroke on stroke.From there we sailed on, our spirits now at a low ebb,and reached the land of the high and mighty Cyclops,lawless brutes, who trust so to the everlasting godsthey never plant with their own hands or plow the soil. Unsown, unplowed, the earth teems with all they need, wheat, barley and vines, swelled by the rains of Zeusto yield a big full-bodied wine from clustered grapes.They have no meeting place for council, no laws either, no, up on the mountain peaks they live in arching caverns—each a law to himself, ruling his wives and children,not a care in the world for any neighbor.Now, a level island stretches flat across the harbor,not close inshore to the Cyclops‟ coast, not too far out,thick with woods where the wild goats breed by hundreds. No trampling of men to start them from their lairs,no hunters roughing it out on the woody ridges,stalking quarry, ever raid their haven.No flocks browse, no plowlands roll with wheat; unplowed, unsown forever—empty of humankind—the island just feeds droves of bleating goats.For the Cyclops have no ships with crimson prows,no shipwrights there to build them good trim craftthat could sail them out to foreign ports of callas most men risk the seas to trade with other men.Such artisans would have made this island tooa decent place to live in … No mean spot,it could bear you any crop you like in season.The water-meadows along the low foaming shorerun soft and moist, and your vines would never flag.The land‟s clear for plowing. Harvest on harvest,a man could reap a healthy stand of grain—the subsoil‟s dark and rich.There‟s a snug deep-water harbor there, what‟s more,no need for mooring-gear, no anchor-stones to heave,no cables to make fast. Just beach your keels, ride outthe days till your shipmates‟ spirit stirs for open seaand a fair wind blows. And last, at the harbor‟s headthere‟s a spring that rushes fresh from beneath a caveand black poplars flourish round its mouth.Well, here we landed, and surely a god steered us inthrough the pitch-black night.Not that he ever showed himself, with thick fogswirling around the ships, the moon wrapped in cloudsand not a glimmer stealing through that gloom.Not one of us glimpsed the island—scanning hard—or the long combers rolling us slowly toward the coast,not till our ships had run their keels ashore.Beaching our vessels smoothly, striking sail,the crews swung out on the low shelving sandand there we fell asleep, awa iting Dawn‟s first light.When young Dawn with her rose-red fingers shone once more we all turned out, intrigued to tour the island.The local nymphs, the daughters of Zeus himself,flushed mountain-goats so the crews could make their meal. Quickly we fetched our curved bows and hunting spearsfrom the ships and, splitting up into three bands,we started shooting, and soon enough some godhad sent us bags of game to warm our hearts.A dozen vessels sailed in my commandand to each crew nine goats were shared outand mine alone took ten. Then all day longtill the sun went down we sat and feasted wellon sides of meat and rounds of heady wine.The good red stock in our vessels‟ holdshad not run out, there was still plenty left;the men had carried off a generous store in jarswhen we stormed and sacked the Cicones‟ holy city.Now we stared across at the Cyclops‟ shore, so nearwe could even see their smoke, hear their voices,their bleating sheep and goats …And then when the sun had set and night came onwe lay down and slept at the water‟s shelving edge.When young Dawn with her rose-red fingers shone once moreI called a muster briskly, commanding all the hands,…The rest of you stay here, my friends-in-arms.I‟ll go acros s with my own ship and crewand probe the natives living over there.What are they—violent, savage, lawless?or friendly to strangers, god-fearing men?‟With that I boarded ship and told the crewto embark at once and cast off cables quickly.They swung aboard, they sat to the oars in ranksand in rhythm churned the water white with stroke on stroke.But as soon as we reached the coast I mentioned—no long trip—we spied a cavern just at the shore, gaping above the surf, towering, overgrown with laurel. And here big flocks,sheep and goats, were stalled to spend the nights,and around its mouth a yard was walled upwith quarried boulders sunk deep in the earthand enormous pines and oak-trees looming darkly …Here was a giant‟s lair, in fact, who always pas tured hissheepflocks far afield and never mixed with others.A grim loner, dead set in his own lawless ways.Here was a piece of work, by god, a monsterbuilt like no mortal who ever supped on bread,no, like a shaggy peak, I‟d say—a man-mountainrearing head and shoulders over the world.Now then, I told most of my good trusty crew to wait,to sit tight by the ship and guard her wellwhile I picked out my dozen finest fightersand off I went. But I took a skin of wine along,the ruddy, irresistible wine that Maron gave me once, Euanthes‟ son, a priest of Apollo, lord of Ismarus,because we‟d rescued him, his wife and children,reverent as we were;he lived, you see, in Apollo‟s holy grove.And so in return he gave me splendid gifts,he handed me seven bars of well-wrought gold,a mixing-bowl of solid silver, then this wine …He drew it off in generous wine-jars, twelve in all,all unmixed—and such a bouquet, a drink fit for the gods!No maid or man of his household knew that secret store,only himself, his loving wife and a single servant. Whenever they‟d drink the deep-red mellow vintage,twenty cups of water he‟d stir in one of wineand what an aroma wafted from the bowl—what magic, what a godsend—no joy in holding back when that was poured!Filling a great goatskin now, I took this wine,provisions too in a leather sack. A sudden forebodingtold my righting spirit I‟d soon come up againstsome giant clad in power like armor-plate—a savage deaf to justice, blind to law.Our party quickly made its way to his cavebut we failed to find our host himself inside;he was off in his pasture, ranging his sleek flocks.So we explored his den, gazing wide-eyed at it all,the large flat racks loaded with drying cheeses,the folds crowded with young lambs and kids,split into three groups—here the spring-born,here mid-yearlings, here the fresh sucklingsoff to the side—each sort was penned apart.And all his vessels, pails and hammered bucketshe used for milking, were brimming full with whey.From the start my comrades pressed me, pleading hard, …Let‟s make away with the cheeses, then come back—hurry, drive the lambs and kids from the pensto our swift ship, put out to sea at once!‟But I would not give way—and how much better it would have been—not till I saw him, saw what gifts he‟d give.But he proved no lovely sight to my companions.There we built a fire, set our hands on the cheeses, offered some to the gods and ate the bulk ourselvesand settled down inside, awaiti ng his return …And back he came from pasture, late in the day,herding his flocks home, and lugging a huge loadof good dry logs to fuel his fire at supper.He flung them down in the cave—a jolting crash—we scuttled in panic into the deepest dark recess.And next he drove his sleek flocks into the open vault,all he‟d milk at least, but he left the males outside,rams and billy goats out in the high-walled yard.Then to close his door he hoisted overheada tremendous, massive slab—no twenty-two wagons, rugged and four-wheeled,could budge that boulder off the ground, I tell you,such an immense stone the monster wedged to block his cave! Then down he squatted to milk his sheep and bleating goats, each in order, and put a suckling underneath each dam.And half of the fresh white milk he curdled quickly,set it aside in wicker racks to press for cheese,the other half let stand in pails and buckets,ready at hand to wash his supper down.As soon as he‟d briskly finished all his choreshe lit his fire and spied us in the blaze and…Strangers!‟ he thundered out, …now who are you?Where did you sail from, over the running sea-lanes?Out on a trading spree or roving the waves like pirates,sea-wolves raiding at will, who risk their livesto plunder other men?‟The hearts inside us shook, terrified by his rumbling voice and monstrous hulk.Nevertheless I found the nerve to answer, firmly,…Men of Achaea we are and bound now from Troy!Driven far off course by the warring winds,over the vast gulf of the sea—battling homeon a strange tack, a route that‟s off the map,and so we‟ve come to you …so it must please King Zeus‟s plotting heart.We‟re glad to say we‟re men of Atrides Agamemnon,whose fame is the proudest thing on earth these days,so great a city he sacked, such multitudes he killed!But since we‟ve chanced on you, we‟re at your kneesin hopes of a warm welcome, even a guest-gift,the sort that hosts give strangers. That‟s the custom.Respect the gods, my friend. We‟re suppl iants—at your mercy!Zeus of the Strangers guards all guests and suppliants:strangers are sacred—Zeus will avenge their rights!‟…Stranger,‟ he grumbled back from his brutal heart,…you must be a fool, stranger, or come from nowhere,telling me to fear the gods or avoid their wrath!We Cyclops never blink at Zeus and Zeus‟s shieldof storm and thunder, or any other blessed god—we‟ve got more force by far.I‟d never spare you in fear of Zeus‟s hatred,you or your comrades here, unless I had the urge.But tell me, where did you moor your sturdy shipwhen you arrived? Up the coast or close in?I‟d just like to know.‟So he laid his trapbut he never caught me, no, wise to the worldI shot back in my crafty way, …My ship?Poseidon god of the earthquake smashed my ship,he drove it against the rocks at your island‟s far cape,dashed it against a cliff as the winds rode us in.I and the men you see escaped a sudden death.‟Not a word in reply to that, the ruthless brute.Lurching up, he lunged out with his hands toward my menand snatching two at once, rapping them on the groundhe knocked them dead like pups—their brains gushed out all over, soaked the floor—and ripping them limb from limb to fix his mealhe bolted them down like a mountain-lion, left no scrap, devoured entrails, flesh and bones, marrow and all!We flung our arms to Zeus, we wept and cried aloud,looking on at his grisly work—paralyzed, appalled.But once the Cyclops had stuffed his enormous gutwith human flesh, washing it down with raw milk,he slept in his cave, stretched out along his flocks.And I with my fighting heart, I thought at firstto steal up to him, draw the sharp sword at my hipand stab his chest where the midriff packs the liver—I groped for the fatal spot but a fresh thought held me back. There at a stroke we‟d finish off ourselves as well—how could we with our bare hands heave backthat slab he set to block his cavern‟s gaping maw?So we lay there groaning, waiting Dawn‟s first light.When young Dawn with her rose-red fingers shone once more the monster relit his fire and milked his handsome ewes,each in order, putting a suckling underneath each dam,and as soon as he‟d briskly finished all his choreshe snatched up two more men and fixed his meal.Well-fed, he drove his fat sheep from the cave,lightly lifting the huge doorslab up and away,then slipped it back in placeas a hunter flips the lid of his quiver shut.Piercing whistles—turning his flocks to the hillshe left me there, the heart inside me brooding on revenge:how could I pay him back? would Athena give me glory?Here was the plan that struck my mind as best …the Cyclops‟ great club: there it lay by the pens,olivewood, full of sap. He‟d lopped it off to brandishonce it dried. Looking it over, we judged it big enoughto be the mast of a pitch-black ship with her twenty oars,a freighter broad in the beam that plows through miles of sea—so long, so thick it bulked before our eyes. Well,flanking it now, I chopped off a fathom‟s length,pushed it to comrades, told them to plane it down,and they made the club smooth as I bent and shavedthe tip to a stabbing point. I turned it overthe blazing fire to char it good and hard,then hid it well, buried deep under the dungthat littered the cavern‟s floor in thick wet clumps.And now I ordered my shipmates all to cast lots—who‟d brave it out with meto hoist our stake and grind it into his eyewhen sleep had overcome him? Luck of the draw:I got the very ones I would have picked myself,four good me n, and I in the lead made five …Nightfall brought him back, herding his woolly sheepand he quickly drove the sleek flock into the vaulted cavern, rams and all—none left outside in the walled yard—his own idea, perhaps, or a god led him on.Then he hoisted the huge slab to block the doorand squatted to milk his sheep and bleating goats,each in order, putting a suckling underneath each dam,and as soon as he‟d briskly finished all his choreshe snatched up two more men and fixed his meal.But this time I lifted a carved wooden bowl,brimful of my ruddy wine,and went right up to the Cyclops, enticing,…Here, Cyclops, try this wine—to top offthe banquet of human flesh you‟ve bolted down!Judge for yourself what stock our ship had stored.I brought it here to make you a fine libation,hoping you would pity me, Cyclops, send me home,but your rages are insufferable. You barbarian—how can any man on earth come visit you after this?What you‟ve done outrages all that‟s right!‟At that he seized the bowl and tossed it offand the heady wine pleased him immensely. …More‟—he demanded a second bowl—‟a hearty helping!And tell me your name now, quickly,so I can hand my guest a gift to warm his heart.Our soil yields the Cyclops powerful, full-bodied wineand the rains from Zeus build its strength. But this,this is nectar, ambrosia—this flows from heaven!‟So he declared. I poured him another fiery bowl—three bowls I brimmed and three he drank to the last drop,the fool, and then, when the wine was swirling round his brain, I approached my host with a cordial, winning word:…So, you ask me the name I‟m known by, Cyclops?I will tell you. But you must give me a guest-giftas you‟ve promised. Nobody—that‟s my name. Nobody—so my mother and father call me, all my friends.‟But he boomed back at me from his ruthless heart, …Nobody? I‟ll eat Nobody last of all his friends—I‟ll eat the others first! That‟s my gift to you!‟With thathe toppled over, sprawled full-length, flat on his backand lay there, his massive neck slumping to one side,and sleep that conquers all overwhelmed him nowas wine came spurting, flooding up from his gulletwith chunks of human flesh—he vomited, blind drunk.Now, at last, I thrust our stake in a bed of embersto get it red-hot and rallied all my comrades:…Courage—no panic, no one hang back now!‟And green as it was, just as the olive stakewas about to catch fire—the glow terrific, yes—I dragged it from the flames, my men clustering roundas some god breathed enormous courage through us all.Hoisting high that olive stake with its stabbing point,straight into the monster‟s eye they rammed it hard—I drove my weight on it from above and bored it homeas a shipwright bores his beam with a shipwright‟s drillthat men below, whipping the strap back and forth, whirland the drill keeps twisting faster, never stopping—So we seized our stake with its fiery tipand bored it round and round in the giant‟s eyetill blood came boiling up around that smoking shaftand the hot blast singed his brow and eyelids round the coreand the broiling eyeball burst—its crackling roots blazed and hissed—as a blacksmith plunges a glowing ax or adzein an ice-cold bath and the metal screeches steamand its temper hardens—that‟s the iron‟s strength—so the eye of the Cyclops sizzled round that stake!He loosed a hideous roar, the rock walls echoed roundand we scuttled back in terror. The monster wrenched the spikefrom his eye and out it came with a red geyser of blood—he flung it aside with frantic hands, and mad with painhe bellowed out for help from his neighbor Cyclopsliving round about in caves on windswept crags.Hearing his cries, they lumbered up from every sideand hulking round his cavern, asked what ailed him:…What, Polyphemus, what in the world‟s the trouble?Roaring out in the godsent night to rob us of our sleep.Surely no one‟s rustling your flocks against your will—surely no one‟s trying to kill you now by fraud or force!‟…Nobody, friends‟—Polyphemus bellowed back from his cave—…Nobody‟s killing me now by fraud and not by force.‟……If you‟re alone,‟ his friends boomed back at once,…and nobody‟s trying to overpower you now—look,it must be a plague sent here by mighty Zeusand there‟s no escape from that.You‟d better pray to your father, Lord Poseidon.‟They lumbered off, but laughter filled my heartto think how nobody‟s name—my great cunning stroke—hadduped them one and all. But the Cyclops there,still groaning, racked with agony, groped aroundfor the huge slab, and heaving it from the doorway,down he sat in the cave‟s mouth, his arms spread wide,hoping to catch a comrade stealing out with sheep—such a blithering fool he took me for!But I was al ready plotting …what was the best way out? how could I findescape from death for my crew, myself as well?My wits kept weaving, weaving cunning schemes—life at stake, monstrous death staring us in the face—till this plan struck my mind as best. That flock,those well-fed rams with their splendid thick fleece,sturdy, handsome beasts sporting their dark weight of wool:I lashed them abreast, quietly, twisting the willow-twigsthe Cyclops slept on—giant, lawless brute—I took themthree by three; each ram in the middle bore a manwhile the two rams either side would shield him well.So three beasts to bear each man, but as for myself?There was one bellwether ram, the prize of all the flock,and clutching him by his back, tucked up underhis shaggy belly, there I hung, face upward,both hands locked in his marvelous deep fleece,clinging for dear life, my spirit steeled, enduring …So we held on, desperate, waiting Dawn‟s first light.As soonas young Dawn with her rose-red fingers shone once morethe rams went rumbling out of the cave toward pasture,the ewes kept bleating round the pens, unmilked,their udders about to burst. Their master now,heaving in torment, felt the back of each animalhalting before him here, but the idiot never sensedmy men were trussed up under their thick fleecy ribs.And last of them all came my great ram now, striding out, weighed down with his dense wool and my deep plots. Stroking him gently, powerful Polyphemus murmured, …Dear old ram, why last of the flock to quit the cave?In the good old days you‟d never lag behind the rest—you with your long marching strides, first by farof the flock to graze the fresh young grasses,first by far to reach the rippling streams,first to turn back home, keen for your foldwhen night comes on—but now you‟re last of all.And why? Sick at heart for your master‟s eyethat coward gouged out with his wicked crew?—only after he‟d stunned my wits with wine—that, that Nobody …who‟s not es caped his death, I swear, not yet.Oh if only you thought like me, had words like meto tell me where that scoundrel is cringing from my rage!I‟d smash him against the ground, I‟d spill his brains—flooding across my cave—and that would ease my heartof the pains that good-for-nothing Nobody made me suffer!‟And with that threat he let my ram go free outside.But soon as we‟d got one foot past cave and courtyard,first I loosed myself from the ram, then loosed my men, then quickly, glancing back again and again we droveour flock, good plump beasts with their long sharks, straight to the ship, and a welcome sight we wereto loyal comrades—we who‟d escaped our deaths—but for all the rest they broke down and wailed.I cut it short, I stopped each shipmate‟s cries,my head tossing, brows frowning, silent signalsto hurry, tumble our fleecy herd on board,launch out on the open sea!They swung aboard, they sat to the oars in rank;and in rhythm churned the water white with stroke on stroke. But once offshore as far as a man‟s shout can carry,I called back to the Cyclops, stinging taunts:…So, Cyclops, no weak coward it was whose crewyou bent to devour there in your vaulted cave—.you with your brute force! Your filthy crimescame down on your own head, you shameless cannibal, daring to eat your guests in your own house—。