【高级英语第三版课文翻译】高级英语一课文翻译大学
高级英语是高等教育自学考试英语专业高级阶段（本科）的精读课，属于必考课程。下面小编收集了高级英语课文翻译，供大家阅读。我为什么写作
Lesson 12：Why I Write
从很小的时候，大概五、六岁，我知道长大以后将成为一个作家。
From a very early age，perhaps the age of five or six，I knew that when I grew up I should be a writer.
从15到24岁的这段时间里，我试图打消这个念头，可总觉得这样做是在戕害我的天性，认为我迟早会坐下来伏案著书。
Between the ages of about seventeen and twenty-four I tried to adandon this idea，but I did so with the consciousness that I was outraging my true nature and that sooner or later I should have to settle down and write books.
三个孩子中，我是老二。老大和老三与我相隔五岁。8岁以前，我很少见到我爸爸。由于这个以及其他一些缘故，我的性格有些孤僻。我的举止言谈逐渐变得很不讨人喜欢，这使我在上学期间几乎没有什么朋友。
I was the middle child of three，but there was a gap of five years on either side，and I barely saw my father before I was eight- For this and
other reasons I was somewhat lonely，and I soon developed disagreeable mannerisms which made me unpopular throughout my schooldays.
我像一般孤僻的孩子一样，喜欢凭空编造各种故事，和想像的人谈话。我觉得，从一开始，我的文学志向就与一种孤独寂寞、被人冷落的感觉联系在一起。我知道我有驾驭语言的才能和直面令人不快的现实的能力。这一切似乎造就了一个私人的天地，在此天地中我能挽回我在日常生活中的不得意。
I had the lonely child9;s habit of making up stories and holding conversations with imaginary persons，and I think from the very start my literary ambitions were mixed up with the feeling of being isolated and undervalued.
我知道我有驾驭语言的才能和直面令人不快的现实的能力。这一切似乎造就了一个私人的天地，在此天地中我能挽回我在日常生活中的不得意。
I knew that I had a facility with words and a power of facing unpleasant facts，and I felt that this created a sort of private world in which I could get my own back for my failure
还是一个小孩子的时候，我就总爱把自己想像成惊险传奇中的主人公，例如罗宾汉。但不久，我的故事不再是粗糙简单的自我欣赏了。它开始趋向描写我的行动和我所见所闻的人和事。
。. As a very small child I used to imagine that I was，say，Robin Hood，and picture myself as the hero of thrilling adventures，but quite
soon my “story” ceased to be narcissistic in a crude way and became more and more a mere description of what I was doing and the things I saw.
一连几分钟，我脑子里常会有类似这样的描述：“他推开门，走进屋，一缕黄昏的阳光，透过薄纱窗帘，斜照在桌上。桌上有一个火柴盒，半开着，在墨水瓶旁边，他右手插在兜里，朝窗户走去。街心处一只龟甲猫正在追逐着一片败叶。”等等，等等。
For minutes at a time this kind of thing would be running through my head：“He pushed the door open and entered the room. A yellow beam of sunlight，filtering through the muslin curtains，slanted on to the table，where a matchbox，half open，lay beside the inkpot. With his right hand in his pocket he moved across to the window. Down in the street a tortoiseshell cat was chasing a dead leaf，” etc.，etc.
我在差不多25岁真正从事文学创作之前，一直保持着这种描述习惯。虽然我必须搜寻，而且也的确在寻觅恰如其分的字眼。可这种描述似乎是不由自主的，是迫于一种外界的压力。
This habit continued till I was about twenty-five，right through my non-literary years. Although I had to search，and did search，for the right words，I seemed to be making this descriptive effort almost against my will，under a kind of compulsion from outside.
我在不同时期崇仰风格各异的作家。我想，从这些“故事”一定能看出这些作家的文笔风格的痕迹。但是我记得，这些描述又总是一样
