第三章-翻译练习参考答案 - 79

But Chinese names invariably connote a long list of ideas and expectations; some even carry the parents’ memory of, and metaphor for, life. A name not only conveys a basic attitude and character, but can also be a value statement for one to succeed in life and make a name for himself.

In short, it can turn out to be a tremendous burden. This is why some Chinese parents are happy to do away with the trouble of giving their children Chinese names.

A recent survey by The Straits Times showed that a growing number of children have only English names. The reasons behind the trend are worth examining.

The pronunciation of Chinese names can be tricky -- much like the way Chinese find it tough to distinguish and remember the names of their Malay or Indian friends. A Chinese name, which strings together two or three different words that may not be related can be a tongue-twister for foreigners or friends from other ethnic groups.

Still, if Chinese resort to some over-used English names for the sake of convenience, we are not doing justice to our tradition.

While we have grown out of the parochial view of absolute obedience to parents, we still hold our ancestors and elders in high regard. The society and family remain significant in terms of exercising some restrictions over us and providing us a sense of continuity -- and Chinese names are the symbols and manifestation of such cultural values.

Ancient Chinese were rather particular about names. They could be known by more than one name and nicknames as well. Naming was truly a complicated process then.

But if new generations of parents find even two or three Chinese words troublesome, something must have gone wrong in the way they perceive our cultural identity. Other Chinese communities will probably be puzzled by the casual way Chinese Singaporeans treat Chinese names.

When parents do not even insist on maintaining this tradition and are happy to get rid of Chinese names for their children for whatever reasons, what will we have left in a fast-changing consumer society?

The strong desire to drop Chinese names is probably unrelated to the mentality in the past to fawn over things foreign. The dominance of the English language in business and daily life has likely caused some Chinese to look down on the status of the Chinese language.

They have also failed to see the link between culture and language. They believe that a perfect command of the English language equals a good understanding of the Western culture. They are even convinced that the English language is all that is needed to survive and thrive. To them, Singapore is only a base and they will have nothing to do whatsoever with Chinese culture, history and tradition.

Some find Chinese names old-fashioned and outdated. In fact, to someone who is IT-savvy and recognizes only English letters and numbers on a computer, not having a Chinese name is no big deal.

I believe this is the way some people look at the matter. Furthermore, for various reasons, the young find learning the Chinese language an unpleasant task. When they become parents, they would be very reluctant emotionally to give their children Chinese names which have little practical value in real life.

The more fundamental reason is that one has nothing to lose by not having a Chinese name. And for many, material gain is the basis by which things are judged and measured. Issues such as

culture, tradition and identity, which are abstract, are strange and far-fetched and may even evoke in them a sense of fear and resistance.

Not to give a child a Chinese name is a simple act that speaks volumes. (Translated by Yap Gee Poh)

八

Rush

Swallows may have gone, but there is a time of return; willow trees may have died back, but there is a time of regreening; peach blossoms may have fallen, but they will bloom again. Now, you the wise, tell me, why should our days leave us, never to return? -- If they had been stolen by someone, who could it be? Where could he hide them? If they had made the escape themselves, then where could they stay at the moment?

I do not know how many days I have been given to spend, but I do feel my hands are getting empty. Taking stock silently, I find that more than eight thousand days have already slid away from me. Like a drop of water from the point of a needle disappearing into the ocean, my days are dripping into the stream of time, soundless, traceless. Already sweat is starting on my forehead, and tears welling up in my eyes.

Those that have gone have gone for good, those to come keep coming; yet in between, how swift is the shift, in such a rush? When I get up in the morning, the slanting sun marks its presence in my small room in two or three oblongs. The sun has feet, look, he is treading on, lightly and furtively; and I am caught, blankly, in his revolution. Thus -- the day flows away through the sink when I wash my hands, wears off in the bowl when I eat my meal, and passes away before my day-dreaming gaze as I reflect in silence. I can feel his haste now, so I reach out my hands to hold him back, but he keeps flowing past my withholding hands. In the evening, as I lie in bed, he strides over my body, glides past my feet, in his agile way. The moment I open my eyes and meet the sun again, one whole day has gone. I bury my face in my hands and heave a sigh. But the new day begins to flash past in the sigh.

What can I do, in this bustling world, with my days flying in their escape? Nothing but to hesitate, to rush. What have I been doing in that eight-thousand-day rush, apart from hesitating? Those bygone days have been dispersed as smoke by a light wind, or evaporated as mist by the morning sun. What traces have I left behind me? Have I ever left behind any gossamer traces at all? I have come to this world, stark naked; am I to go back, in a blink, in the same stark nakedness? It is not fair though: why should I have made such a trip for nothing!

You the wise, tell me, why should our days leave us, never to return?

March 28, 1922（朱纯深 译）

九

I Might Have Come from Tianjin

Let me begin with my trip on a train. When I was about four years old I had traveled by train. The man I traveled with was my uncle Zhang Quanbin. I still remember how funny I looked the way I was dressed -- in a blue cloth gown with a short sleeveless jacket over it and a skullcap on the head. In those days it was good enough for small kids to be dressed like that. However, it was

my only experience to boast about in my childhood. As I had never traveled by train or met anyone outside my family before, I felt everything on the train was new to me. Probably in childhood, one always needs some comfort. Sitting in my uncle's lap, being humored all the way, I was very happy. We ate half a jin of roast chestnuts, had a nap and soon arrived in Beijing. With the hints mentioned above I assume I might have come from Tianjin. Even today I can recollect what my own parents looked like but, of course, my impression is blurry. As for what my family name was and where my parents came from, I really don't know. I only remember my birthday and my infant name. I was told about my birthday by my foster-parents when I grew up. I was born in the \you\You. Prefixed with xiao -- young, and suffixed with a diminutive er -- an intimate way of addressing young and small things by Beijingers, my name, therefore, became Xiao You'r. This is all I know about my childhood and beyond that I do not remember much else. (刘士聪 译)

十

The floods in the Yangtze River basin are the worst in 44 years. Official figures indicate that more than 2,000 people have been drowned and 13.8 million have been driven from their homes. Crops have been destroyed on 4.5 million hectares, 3 percent of China’s total cropland. Industrial output has suffered as factories have had to shut. The transportation of goods and people has been disrupted. The overall effect on China’s economy will be felt for many months. Despite the serious damage, China deserves a lot of credit for the nationwide effort to deal with flooding, during which the Chinese have demonstrated a remarkable capacity for shoring up dikes and protecting themselves from flooding. For example, 1.6 million troops have been mobilized to help protect the dikes and to move people out of areas being flooded. Literally millions of civilians are involved in this enormous human effort.

2. 英译汉参考译文

一

一个刚在中国登岸的英国人，因为肚子饿得发慌，便走进了一家餐馆。不幸的是，他不懂中文,而那个堂倌又不懂英文，因此他们只有凭借天生的智慧来进行交流。那个堂倌说“汪汪”，英国人听了直摇头。接着，那个堂倌又说“嘎嘎”。那位顾客听了点头不已。不久那个内在的人[1]就感到满足了。 注释：

[1]”内在的人”为幽默说法，指胃袋。

二

一天，一位大学教授在他的历史课接近尾声的时候，正津津乐道于修辞学上的一种层进法。这时，下课铃响了。因此，学生们开始劈哩叭啦地合上座椅的活动把手，并准备离开。 这位教授，对学生们打断他口若悬河的演讲感到非常恼火，便举起手来，说道： “诸位，请稍等片刻，我还有几颗珠子要投呀[1]!” 注释：

[1]此处包含有一个《圣经》成语”把珍珠抛在猪面前”(to cast pearls before swine)，即”对牛弹

琴”。这里，教授把学生比作蠢猪，不会欣赏他精彩的演讲。

三

花朵传送

多元艺术家 陈瑞献把6000册藏书，数十本创作手稿和数十件艺术珍藏品捐献给新建的国家图书馆；新馆落成后将特设“陈瑞献藏室”展示。这是他在珍藏捐赠仪式上的讲词。 给予是分享的一种方式。花朵让人传送，花香扩散愈远。诚如贝嘉所说：“花香常留在送出玫瑰的人手中。”我决定把我收藏的全部书籍、手稿、艺术品以及工艺品都捐赠给新建的国家图书馆。

这符合今天发布推行的“我的图书馆计划”的宗旨：尽我的一点绵力，参与把知识带入生活，使之成为所有新加坡人都可得到启发的现实。知识是可供分享的活体，它不属于尘封的书架。分享的欢喜是加倍的欢喜。

我有6000本藏书。许多书的背后都有一段故事。雅各生和利维斯·史特劳斯以法文合著的有关波特莱尔的诗《猫》的薄薄一本评论，我寻搜多年，最后才在巴黎的一家小书店找到。已经停业的新加坡一间卫理书店，帮我买到大部分齐克果著作的英译本。

《在甘地先生左右》是甘地的唯一华人弟子曾圣提撰写的传记，作者是新加坡第一代新闻记者，我在与他第一次也是最后一次的会面时请他在书上签了名。我的一位友人特从印尼给我带来凯里尔·安华的诗集。我在印度购得拉维·桑卡的自传。多次造访中国，我得以收藏至为稀罕的古籍，如元明间刻本，朱熹撰写的《四书集注》。还有我的诗友亨利·米梭，纪亦维，马林·索列斯库以及痖弦的诗集。 在捐赠的藏品中，也有艺术家朋友如奥得里夫、吴冠中和柏拉衷的画作。有樊增祥、齐白石和李可染的书法；一张朗静山的摄影；三方弘一大师的印章；一尊宋越窑青瓷观音像；一方唐砚以及一方由明代最伟大的制墨家程君房特制的御墨。

当装载着我所有的收藏的大卡车，正开出我画室的停车场时，国家图书馆管理局的殷玲催我再看一眼。我猛省我用40年的心血和热爱征集的藏品将离我而去，一时我有点感伤。然而，这就像把漂亮的女儿嫁出去一样。一想到她嫁了一户好人家，我也就感到释然。 当毛姆决定封笔，他对自己说：“老天，这下我可以欣赏日落，而不必去想该怎样来描写了。我的意思是说，不再写书了。”这还不是我的情况。设在新国家图书馆的“陈瑞献藏室”，将是我会见新加坡年轻艺术家、作家和公众的一个空间，用来跟他们讨论当太阳升起时，该怎样才不会睡着。 (潘正镭 译)

四

在英语的环境里掌握双语

越来越多受英文教育的新加坡华人父母，已经意识到孩子在掌握不可或缺的英文的同时，也通晓华文的重要性。

中国崛起成为政治和经济超级强国的巨大潜能，让他们充分理解到孩子掌握双语的好处——既能增加他们的就业机会，也能让他们接触和熟悉东西方两种不同的文化。 这些人对华文的态度几乎完全转变，对华文的功能也完全改观，改变不可谓不快。曾几何时，他们还非常骄傲地宣称自己只懂英文，一些甚至对华族文化抱着鄙视的态度。 很多人已经开始后悔没有学好双语。或许是为了弥补过去所不珍惜的，一些人已开始积极支持华族文化和艺术。他们也不时走访中国，欣赏壮观的自然风景和认识丰富的文化遗产。

众所周知，要掌握任何一种语文，特别是母语，必须从小就开始学习。因此，在以英语