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薇娅直播预告清单液唯7.21(美妆)
1.林清轩山茶花修护滋养霜
2.科颜氏亚马逊白泥净肤面膜
3.润百颜菁透焕亮377次抛
4.黛珂植物欣韵水乳套组
5.林清轩山茶花润肤油
6.玉泽蓝铜胜肽精华液
7.珀莱雅烟酰胺面膜
8.叶子兰铜胜肽水润舒缓面膜
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10.彩棠雾感持妆唇线笔
11.3CE镜面唇釉
12.欧莱雅小金管防晒
13.彩棠大师妆前乳
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15.阿玛尼高光红气垫
16.RT美妆蛋
17.彩棠净肤修颜遮瑕笔
18.黛珂心悦荣光丝柔蜜粉段埋纳
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20.纪梵希四宫格腮红
21.MAC生姜高光
22.植村秀砍刀眉笔
23.素之然双眼皮贴
24.珂莱欧星沙十色眼影
25.魅丝蔻化妆刷套装
26.Colorkey眼线胶笔
27.Kissme三代防水睫毛膏
28.Kissme卷翘定型睫毛打底膏
29.Tom Ford流光香氛身体高光30.梦妆发际线粉
31.完美日记呼吸卸妆油
32.Color Candy柔纱保湿定妆喷雾
33.阿玛尼高定私藏香氛
34.渡美神经酰胺200原液精华
(美食)
35.和路雪可爱多4盒组合
36.三只松鼠无骨鸡爪
37.正大懒人饺
(生活)
38.双立人Now S系列双刀组合
39.荣耀50Pro
40.松下莱影化妆镜
41.崔娅负离子蓬松器:
42.膳魔师口红系列保温杯
43.Anybody迪士尼联名睡衣
44.0GR Mecha幻象主题T恤
45.玉泽臻安果酸焕肤身体套装
46.TT王握没妃梳便携款
Ⅱ 中英对照《麦田守望者》第五章
5
We always had the same meal on Saturday nights at Pencey. It was supposed to be a big deal, because they gave you steak. I'll bet a thousand bucks the reason they did that was because a lot of guys' parents came up to school on Sunday, and old Thurmer probably figured everybody's mother would ask their darling boy what he had for dinner last night, and he'd say, "Steak." What a racket.
在潘西，一到星期六晚上我们总是吃同样的菜。这应该算是道好菜，因为他们给你吃牛排。我愿意拿出一千块钱打赌，他们之所以这样做，只是因为星期天总有不少学生烂者家长来校，老绥摩大概认为每个学生的母亲都会问她们的宝贝儿子昨天晚饭吃些什么，他就会回答：“牛排。”多大的骗局。
You should've seen the steaks. They were these little hard, dry jobs that you could hardly even cut. You always got these very lumpy mashed potatoes on steak night, and for dessert you got Brown Betty, which nobody ate, except maybe the little kids in the lower school that didn't know any better--and guys like Ackley that ate everything.
你应该看看那牛排的样子，全都又硬又干，连切都切不开。而且在吃牛排的晚上，总是给你有很多硬块的薯仔泥，饭后点心也是苹果面包屑做的布丁，除了不懂事的低班小鬼和象阿行桐克莱这类什么都吃的家伙以外，谁都不吃。
It was nice, though, when we got out of the dining room. There were about three inches of snow on the ground, and it was still coming down like a madman. It looked pretty as hell, and we all started throwing snowballs and horsing around all over the place. It was very childish, but everybody was really enjoying themselves.
可是我们一出餐厅，不禁高兴起来。地上的积雪已有约莫三英寸厚，上面还在疯狂地下个不停。那景色真是美极了饥带薯。我们立刻打起雪仗来，东奔西跑闹着玩。的确很孩子气，不过每个人都玩得挺痛快。
I didn't have a date or anything, so I and this friend of mine, Mal Brossard, that was on the wrestling team, decided we'd take a bus into Agerstown and have a hamburger and maybe see a lousy movie. Neither of us felt like sitting around on our ass all night.
我没有约会，就跟我的朋友马尔.勃罗萨德——那个参加摔交队的——商量定，打算搭公共汽车到埃杰斯镇去吃一客汉堡牛排，或者再看一场他妈的混帐电影。我们两个谁也不想在学校里烂屁股坐整整一晚。
I asked Mal if he minded if Ackley came along with us. The reason I asked was because Ackley never did anything on Saturday night, except stay in his room and squeeze his pimples or something. Mal said he didn't mind but that he wasn't too crazy about the idea. He didn't like Ackley much.
我问马尔能不能让阿克莱跟我们一块儿去，我之所以这样问，是因为阿克莱在星期六晚上什么事也不做，只是呆在自己房里，挤挤脸上的粉刺。马尔说能倒是能，不过他并不太感兴趣。他不怎么喜欢阿克莱。
Anyway, we both went to our rooms to get ready and all, and while I was putting on my galoshes and crap, I yelled over and asked old Ackley if he wanted to go to the movies. He could hear me all right through the shower curtains, but he didn't answer me right away. He was the kind of a guy that hates to answer you right away. Finally he came over, through the goddam curtains, and stood on the shower ledge and asked who was going besides me.
不管怎样，我们俩都各自回房收拾东西，我一边穿高筒橡皮套鞋什么的，一边大声嚷嚷着问老阿克莱去不去看电影。他从淋浴室门帘听得见我说话，可是他并不马上回答。他就是那样一种人，问他什么事都不肯马上回答。最后他从混帐门帘那儿过来了，站在淋浴台上，问我还有谁同去。
He always had to know who was going. I swear, if that guy was shipwrecked somewhere, and you rescued him in a goddam boat, he'd want to know who the guy was that was rowing it before he'd even get in. I told him Mal Brossard was going. He said, "That bastard . . . All right. Wait a second." You'd think he was doing you a big favor.
他老是打听什么人去什么地方。我敢发誓，这家伙要是在哪儿沉了船，你把他救到一只他妈的船里，他甚至在跨上救生船之前都要打听是哪个在划船。我告诉他说还有马尔．勃罗萨德同去。他说：“那杂种……好吧。等我一会儿。”听起来倒象是他在给你很大面子呢。
It took him about five hours to get ready. While he was doing it, I went over to my window and opened it and packed a snowball with my bare hands. The snow was very good for packing. I didn't throw it at anything, though. I started to throw it.
他总要过那么五个钟头才能收拾停当。在他收拾打扮的时候，我走到自己的窗口，打开窗，光着手捏了个雪球。这雪捏起雪球来真是好极了。不过我没往任何东西上扔。
At a car that was parked across the street. But I changed my mind. The car looked so nice and white. Then I started to throw it at a hydrant, but that looked too nice and white, too. Finally I didn't throw it at anything. All I did was close the window and walk around the room with the snowball, packing it harder. A little while later, I still had it with me when I and Brossnad and Ackley got on the bus. The bus driver opened the doors and made me throw it out. I told him I wasn't going to chuck it at anybody, but he wouldn't believe me. People never believe you.
我本来要往一辆停在街对面的汽车上扔，可我后来改变了主意。那汽车看去那么白，那么漂亮。跟着我要往一个救火龙头上扔，可那东西也显得那么白，那么漂亮。最后我没往任何东西上扔，只是关了窗，在房间里走来走去，把雪球捏得硬上加硬。后来，我、勃罗萨德和阿克莱三个一起上公共汽车的时候，我手里还捏着那个雪球。公共汽车司机开了门，要我把雪球扔掉。我告诉他说我不会拿它扔任何人，可他不信。人们就是不信你的话。
Brossard and Ackley both had seen the picture that was playing, so all we did, we just had a couple of hamburgers and played the pinball machine for a little while, then took the bus back to Pencey. I didn't care about not seeing the movie, anyway. It was supposed to be a comedy, with Cary Grant in it, and all that crap. Besides, I'd been to the movies with Brossard and Ackley before. They both laughed like hyenas at stuff that wasn't even funny. I didn't even enjoy sitting next to them in the movies.
勃罗萨德和阿克莱两个都已看过正在上演的电影，所以我们只是吃了两客汉堡牛排，玩了会儿弹球机，随后乘公共汽车回潘西。我倒不在乎没看到电影。好象是个喜剧，凯利.格兰特主演，反正是那一套玩艺儿。再说，我过去也跟勃罗萨德和阿克莱一起看过电影，他们两个见了一些毫不可笑的事物，都会笑得象个疯子似的。我甚至不乐意坐在他们身旁看电影。
It was only about a quarter to nine when we got back to the dorm. Old Brossard was a bridge fiend, and he started looking around the dorm for a game. Old Ackley parked himself in my room, just for a change.
我们回到宿舍里，还只八点四十五分。老勃罗萨德是个桥牌迷，一回到宿舍，就到处找人打牌去了。老阿克莱在我房里呆了会儿，只是为了换换口味。
Only, instead of sitting on the arm of Stradlater's chair, he laid down on my bed, with his face right on my pillow and all. He started talking in this very monotonous voice, and picking at all his pimples. I dropped about a thousand hints, but I couldn't get rid of him.
不过这次他不是坐在斯特拉德莱塔椅子的扶手上，而是干脆躺在我的床上，他的整个脸儿还都贴在我的枕头上。他开始用极单调的声音嘟嘟哝哝地说起话来，同时一个劲儿挤着满脸的粉刺。我给了他总有一千个暗示，都没法把他打发走。
All he did was keep talking in this very monotonous voice about some babe he was supposed to have had sexual intercourse with the summer before. He'd already told me about it about a hundred times. Every time he told it, it was different. One minute he'd be giving it to her in his cousin's Buick, the next minute he'd be giving it to her under some boardwalk. It was all a lot of crap, naturally. He was a virgin if ever I saw one.
他只顾用那种微单调的声音絮絮地谈着今年夏天他怎样跟一个小妞儿发生暖昧关系。这事他跟我说道总有一百遍了，每次说的都不一样。这一分钟说是在他表兄的别克牌汽车里跟她胡搞，下一分钟又说是在什么海滨木板路下面。全是一派胡言，自然啦。在我看来，他倒真是个不折不扣的童男。
I doubt if he ever even gave anybody a feel. Anyway, finally I had to come right out and tell him that I had to write a composition for Stradlater, and that he had to clear the hell out, so I could concentrate. He finally did, but he took his time about it, as usual. After he left, I put on my pajamas and bathrobe and my old hunting hat, and started writing the composition.
我怀疑他甚至连女人摸都不曾摸过一下哩。嗯，我最后不得不直截了当地告诉他说，我要替斯特拉德莱塔写一篇作文，他得他妈的给我出去，好让我凝神思索。他最后倒是出去了，可是跟往常一样磨蹭了半天才走。他走后，我换上睡衣和浴衣，戴上我那顶猎人帽，开始写起作文来。
The thing was, I couldn't think of a room or a house or anything to describe the way Stradlater said he had to have. I'm not too crazy about describing rooms and houses anyway. So what I did, I wrote about my brother Allie's baseball mitt.
问题是，我实在想不起有什么房间、屋子或者其他什么东西可以照斯特拉德莱塔说的那样加以描写。至少我自己对描写房屋之类的东西不太感兴趣。因此我索性描写起我弟弟艾里的垒球手套来。
It was a very descriptive subject. It really was. My brother Allie had this left-handed fielder's mitt. He was left-handed. The thing that was descriptive about it, though, was that he had poems written all over the fingers and the pocket and everywhere. In green ink. He wrote them on it so that he'd have something to read when he was in the field and nobody was up at bat.
这题目例极容易描写。的确容易。我弟弟是个用左手接球的外野手，所以那是只左手手套。描写这题目的动人之处在于手套的指头上、指缝里到处写着诗。用绿墨水写成。他写这些诗的目的，是呆在野上遇到没人攻球的时候可供阅读。
He's dead now. He got leukemia and died when we were up in Maine, on July 18, 1946. You'd have liked him. He was two years younger than I was, but he was about fifty times as intelligent. He was terrifically intelligent. His teachers were always writing letters to my mother, telling her what a pleasure it was having a boy like Allie in their class.
他已经死了，是一九四六年七月十八日我们在缅因的时候患白血球病死的。你准会喜欢他。他比我小两岁，可比我聪明五十倍。他实在聪明过人。他的老师们老是写信给我母亲，告诉她班上有他那么个学生他们有多高兴。
And they weren't just shooting the crap. They really meant it. But it wasn't just that he was the most intelligent member in the family. He was also the nicest, in lots of ways. He never got mad at anybody.
而他们也决不是随便说说的。他们说的确是心里话。他不仅是全家最聪明的孩子，而且在许多方面还是最讨人喜欢的孩子。他从来不跟人发脾气。
People with red hair are supposed to get mad very easily, but Allie never did, and he had very red hair. I'll tell you what kind of red hair he had. I started playing golf when I was only ten years old. I remember once, the summer I was around twelve, teeing off and all, and having a hunch that if I turned around all of a sudden, I'd see Allie.
大家都认为有红头发的人最最容易发脾气。可艾里从来不发脾气，他的头发倒是极红极红。我来告诉你他有什么样的红头发吧。我十岁就开始打高尔夫球，我还记得十二岁那年夏天，有一次正在打高尔夫球，我忽然觉得只要猛一转身，就会看见艾里。
So I did, and sure enough, he was sitting on his bike outside the fence--there was this fence that went all around the course--and he was sitting there, about a hundred and fifty yards behind me, watching me tee off.
我转身一看，果然不错，他正坐在篱笆外面的自行车上呢——围着高尔夫球场有道篱笆——他坐在离我约莫一百五十码的地方，在看我打球。
That's the kind of red hair he had. God, he was a nice kid, though. He used to laugh so hard at something he thought of at the dinner table that he just about fell off his chair. I was only thirteen, and they were going to have me psychoanalyzed and all, because I broke all the windows in the garage. I don't blame them. I really don't. I slept in the garage the night he died, and I broke all the goddam windows with my fist, just for the hell of it.
他就有那样的红头发。可是天哪，他真是个好孩子，嘿。他往往在饭桌上忽然想起什么，一下子笑得不可开交，差点儿从椅子上摔了下来。我还只十三岁的时候，他们就要送我去作精神分析，因为我用拳头把汽车间里的玻璃窗全都打碎了。我并不怪他们，我真的不怪。他死的那天晚上我睡在汽车房里，用拳头把那些混帐玻璃窗全都打碎了，光是为了出气。
I even tried to break all the windows on the station wagon we had that summer, but my hand was already broken and everything by that time, and I couldn't do it. It was a very stupid thing to do, I'll admit, but I hardly didn't even know I was doing it, and you didn't know Allie. My hand still hurts me once in a while when it rains and all, and I can't make a real fist any more--not a tight one, I mean--but outside of that I don't care much. I mean I'm not going to be a goddam surgeon or a violinist or anything anyway.
我甚至还想把那年夏天买的那辆旅行汽车上的玻璃也都打碎，可我的手已经鲜血淋漓，使不出劲儿了。这样做的确傻得要命，我承认，可我简直不知道自己在干什么，再说你也不认识艾里。现在到了阴雨天，我那只手仍要作痛，此后也一直攥不拢拳头一一我的意思是说攥不紧——可是除此以外我并不怎么在乎。我是说我反正不想当他妈的外科医生或者小提琴家什么的。
Anyway, that's what I wrote Stradlater's composition about. Old Allie's baseball mitt. I happened to have it with me, in my suitcase, so I got it out and copied down the poems that were written on it. All I had to do was change Allie's name so that nobody would know it was my brother and not Stradlater's. I wasn't too crazy about doing it, but I couldn't think of anything else descriptive. Besides, I sort of liked writing about it. It took me about an hour, because I had to use Stradlater's lousy typewriter, and it kept jamming on me. The reason I didn't use my own was because I'd lent it to a guy down the hall.
嗯，这就是我给斯特拉德莱塔写的作文。老艾里的垒球手套。那手套凑巧在我的手提箱里，我就把它取出来，抄下写在上面的那些诗。我要做的只有一件事，就是把艾里的名字换了，不让人知道这是我弟弟的名字而不是斯特拉德莱塔弟弟的名字。我并不太愿意这么做，可我一时想不起有什么其他东西可以描写。再说，我倒是有点儿喜欢写这题目。我写了约莫一个钟头，因为我得使用斯特拉德莱塔的混帐打字机，使起来很不顺手。我没有用自己打字机的原因是我已把它借给楼下的一个家伙了。
It was around ten-thirty, I guess, when I finished it. I wasn't tired, though, so I looked out the window for a while. It wasn't snowing out any more, but every once in a while you could hear a car somewhere not being able to get started. You could also hear old Ackley snoring. Right through the goddam shower curtains you could hear him. He had sinus trouble and he couldn't breathe too hot when he was asleep. That guy had just about everything. Sinus trouble, pimples, lousy teeth, halitosis, crumby fingernails. You had to feel a little sorry for the crazy sonuvabitch.
我写完的时候，约莫是十点三十分，我揣摩。我一点不觉得困，所以走到窗口往外眺望一会儿，雪已经停了，可是每隔一会儿，你就可以听见一辆抛锚的汽车发动引擎的声音。你还可以听见老阿克莱打呼噜的声音。就从混帐的淋浴室门帘那儿传来。他的鼻腔有毛病，睡着的时候呼吸不怎么畅快。那家伙简直样样毛病都全了。鼻腔炎，粉刺，黄牙，口臭，灰指甲。你有时真不禁有点替这个倒楣的婊子养的难受呢。
Ⅲ 中英对照《麦田守望者》第六章
6
Some things are hard to remember. I'm thinking now of when Stradlater got back from his date with Jane. I mean I can't remember exactly what I was doing when I heard his goddam stupid footsteps coming down the corridor. I probably was still looking out the window, but I swear I can't remember. I was so damn worried, that's why. When I really worry about something, I don't just fool around. I even have to go to the bathroom when I worry about something. Only, I don't go. I'm too worried to go. I don't want to interrupt my worrying to go. If you knew Stradlater, you'd have been worried, too. I'd double-dated with that bastard a couple of times, and I know what I'm talking about. He was unscrupulous. He really was.
有的事情很难回忆。我现在厅耐正在回想斯特拉德莱塔跟琴约会后回来时候的情景。我是说我怎么也记不起我听到他混帐的脚步声从走廊传来时我到底在干什么。我大概还在往窗外眺望，可我发誓说我怎么也记不起来了。原因是，我当时心里烦得要命。我要是为什么事心里真正烦起来，就不再胡闹。我心里一烦，甚至都得上厕所。只是我不肯动窝儿，我烦得甚至都不想动，我不愿随便动窝儿打断自己的烦恼。要是你认识斯特拉德莱塔，你也一准会心烦。我曾跟那杂种一块儿约会过女朋友，我知道我自己说的什么。他这人不知廉耻。他真是这样的人。
Anyway, the corridor was all linoleum and all, and you could hear his goddam footsteps coming right towards the room. I don't even remember where I was sitting when he came in--at the window, or in my chair or his. I swear I can't remember.
嗯，走廊上铺着厚厚的油毡，你听得见他那混帐没胡的脚步声正往房里走来。我甚扮察春至记不起他进来的时候我到底坐在什么地方——坐在窗边呢，还是坐在我自己的或者他的椅子上。我可以发誓，我再也记不得了。
He came in griping about how cold it was out. Then he said, "Where the hell is everybody? It's like a goddam morgue around here." I didn't even bother to answer him. If he was so goddam stupid not to realize it was Saturday night and everybody was out or asleep or home for the week end, I wasn't going to break my neck telling him. He started getting undressed. He didn't say one goddam word about Jane. Not one. Neither did I. I just watched him. All he did was thank me for letting him wear my hound's-tooth. He hung it up on a hanger and put it in the closet.
他进来的时候没事找碴儿，怪外面天气太冷。接着他说：“他妈的这儿的人都到哪儿去了？简直象个混帐停尸场。”我甚至都没肯答理他。谁叫他自己他妈的那么傻，都不知道这是星期六晚上，大伙儿不是外出度周末，就是睡觉或回家去了，所以我也不会急于告诉他。他开始脱衣服。关于琴的事他一字没提。连吭都没吭一声。我也和他一样。我只是拿眼望着他。他只是就我借给他穿狗齿花纹上衣的事向我道谢了一声。他把上衣搭在一个衣架上，放进了壁橱。
Then when he was taking off his tie, he asked me if I'd written his goddam composition for him. I told him it was over on his goddam bed. He walked over and read it while he was unbuttoning his shirt. He stood there, reading it, and sort of stroking his bare chest and stomach, with this very stupid expression on his face. He was always stroking his stomach or his chest. He was mad about himself.
后来，他在解领带的时候，问我替他写了那篇混帐作文没有。我对他说就在他自己的混帐床上。他走过去一面解衬衫钮扣，一面看作文。他站在那儿，一边看，一边用手摩挲着自己光着的胸脯和肚皮，脸上露出一种极傻的神情。他老是在摩挲自己的肚皮和胸脯。他疯狂地爱着自己。
All of a sudden, he said, "For Chrissake, Holden. This is about a goddam baseball glove."
突然他说：“天哪，霍尔顿。这写的是一只混帐的垒球手套呢。”
"So what?" I said. Cold as hell.
“怎么啦？”我说。冷得象块冰。
"Wuddaya mean so what? I told ya it had to be about a goddam room or a house or something."
“你说怎么啦是什么意思？我不是跟你说过，要写他妈的一个房间、一所房子什么的！”
"You said it had to be descriptive. What the hell's the difference if it's about a baseball glove?"
“你说要写篇描写文章。要是写了篇谈垒球手套购，他妈的有什么不一样？”
"God damn it." He was sore as hell. He was really furious. "You always do everything backasswards." He looked at me. "No wonder you're flunking the hell out of here," he said. "You don't do one damn thing the way you're supposed to. I mean it. Not one damn thing."
“真他妈的。”他气得要命。他这次是真生气了。“你干的事情没一样对头。”他看着我。“怪不得要把你他妈的开除出去，”他说。“要你于的事他妈的没一样是好好照着干的。我说的是心里话。他妈的一样也没有。”
"All right, give it back to me, then," I said. I went over and pulled it right out of his goddam hand. Then I tore it up.
“好吧，那就还给我好了，”我说。我走过去，把作文从他的混帐手里夺过来，撕得粉碎。
"What the hellja do that for?" he said.
“你他妈的写那玩艺儿干什么？”他说。
I didn't even answer him. I just threw the pieces in the wastebasket. Then I lay down on my bed, and we both didn't say anything for a long time. He got all undressed, down to his shorts, and I lay on my bed and lit a cigarette. You weren't allowed to smoke in the dorm, but you could do it late at night when everybody was asleep or out and nobody could smell the smoke. Besides, I did it to annoy Stradlater. It drove him crazy when you broke any rules. He never smoked in the dorm. It was only me.
我甚至都没回答他。我只是把碎纸扔进字纸篓，回到自己的床上躺下，有好长时间我们两人谁都没说话。他把衣服全脱了，只剩下裤衩，我呢，就歪在床上点了支烟。宿舍里本来不准吸烟，可等到夜深人静，大伙儿有的睡觉有的外出，没人闻得到烟味的时候，你可以偷着吸。再说，我这样做也是故意跟斯特拉德莱塔捣蛋。他只要见人不守校规，就会气得发疯。他自己从来不在宿舍里吸烟。只有我一个人吸。
He still didn't say one single solitary word about Jane. So finally I said, "You're back pretty goddam late if she only signed out for nine-thirty. Did you make her be late signing in?"
关于琴的事他依旧只字不提。因此最后我说：“要是她外出的时间只签到九点三十，你倒他妈的回来得挺晚呢。你让她回去得迟了？”
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, cutting his goddam toenails, when I asked him that. "Coupla minutes," he said. "Who the hell signs out for nine-thirty on a Saturday night?" God, how I hated him.
他正在自己的床沿上铰他的混帐脚趾甲，听我问他，就回答说：“迟到一两分钟。在星期六晚上，有谁他妈的把外出时间签到九点三十的？”天哪，我有多恨他。
"Did you go to New York?" I said.
“你们到纽约去了没有？”我说。
"Ya crazy? How the hell could we go to New York if she only signed out for nine-thirty?"
“你疯了？她要是只签到九点三十，我们怎么能去他妈的纽约？”
"That's tough."
“这倒是糟糕。”
He looked up at me. "Listen," he said, "if you're gonna smoke in the room, how 'bout going down to the can and do it? You may be getting the hell out of here, but I have to stick around long enough to graate."
他抬起头来瞅着我。“听着，”他说，“你要是非在房里抽烟不可，干吗不到厕所里去抽？你或许他妈的就要滚出这个学校，我可要一直呆到毕业哩。”
I ignored him. I really did. I went right on smoking like a madman. All I did was sort of turn over on my side and watched him cut his damn toenails. What a school. You were always watching somebody cut their damn toenails or squeeze their pimples or something.
我没理睬他。我真的没有。我象疯子似的一个劲儿抽着烟。我只是侧转身来瞅着他铰他的混帐脚趾甲。什么个学校！你老得瞅着人铰他的混帐脚趾甲，或是挤他的粉刺，或是诸如此类的玩艺儿。
"Did you give her my regards?" I asked him.
“你替我问候她了没有？”我问他。
"Yeah."
“晤。”
The hell he did, the bastard.
他问了才怪哩，这杂种！
"What'd she say?" I said. "Did you ask her if she still keeps all her kings in the back row?"
“她说了些什么？”我说。“你可曾问她下棋的时候是不是还把所有的国王都留在后排？”
"No, I didn't ask her. What the hell ya think we did all night--play checkers, for Chrissake?"
“没有，我没问她。你他妈的以为我们整个晚上都在干什么——在下棋吗，我的天？”
I didn't even answer him. God, how I hated him.
我甚至没答理他。天哪，我有多恨他。
"If you didn't go to New York, where'd ya go with her?" I asked him, after a little while. I could hardly keep my voice from shaking all over the place. Boy, was I getting nervous. I just had a feeling something had gone funny.
“你们要是没上纽约，你带她上哪儿去啦？”过了一会我问他说，说的时候禁不住声音直打颤。嘿，我心里真是不安得很。我只是感觉到有什么不对头的事发生了。
He was finished cutting his damn toenails. So he got up from the bed, in just his damn shorts and all, and started getting very damn playful. He came over to my bed and started leaning over me and taking these playful as hell socks at my shoulder. "Cut it out," I said. "Where'd you go with her if you didn't go to New York?"
他已经铰完了他的混账脚趾甲，所以他从床上起身，光穿着他妈的裤衩，就他妈的兴致勃勃地跟我闹着玩儿起来。他走到我床边，俯在我身上，开始玩笑地拿拳头打我的肩膀。“别闹啦，”我说。“你们要是没上纽约，你带着她到底上哪啦？”
"Nowhere. We just sat in the goddam car." He gave me another one of those playtul stupid little socks on the shoulder.
“哪也没去。我们就坐在他妈的汽车里面。”他又玩笑地在我肩膀上轻轻打了一拳。
"Cut it out," I said. "Whose car?"
“别闹啦，”我说。“谁的汽车？”
"Ed Banky's."
“埃德.班基的。”
Ed Banky was the basketball coach at Pencey. Old Stradlater was one of his pets, because he was the center on the team, and Ed Banky always let him borrow his car when he wanted it. It wasn't allowed for students to borrow faculty guys' cars, but all the athletic bastards stuck together. In every school I've gone to, all the athletic bastards stick together.
埃德.班基是潘西的篮球教练。老斯特拉德莱塔在篮球队里打中锋，是他的得意弟子之一，所以斯特拉德莱塔每次借汽车，埃德.班基总是借给他。学生们本来是不准借用教职人员的汽车的，可是所有那些搞体育的杂种全都一鼻孔出气。我就读的每个学校里，所有那些搞体育的杂种全都一鼻孔出气。
Stradlater kept taking these shadow punches down at my shoulder. He had his toothbrush in his hand, and he put it in his mouth. "What'd you do?" I said. "Give her the time in Ed Banky's goddam car?" My voice was shaking something awful.
斯特拉德莱塔还一个劲儿在我肩上练习拳击。他本来用手拿着牙刷，现在却把它叼在嘴里。“你干了些什么啦？”我说。“在埃德.班基的混帐汽车里跟她干那事儿啦？”我的声音可真是抖得厉害。
"What a thing to say. Want me to wash your mouth out with soap?"
“你说的什么话。要我用肥皂把你的嘴洗洗干净吗？”
"Did you?"
“到底干了没有？”
"That's a professional secret, buddy."
“那可是职业性的秘密，老弟。”
This next part I don't remember so hot. All I know is I got up from the bed, like I was going down to the can or something, and then I tried to sock him, with all my might, right smack in the toothbrush, so it would split his goddam throat open. Only, I missed. I didn't connect. All I did was sort of get him on the side of the head or something. It probably hurt him a little bit, but not as much as I wanted. It probably would've hurt him a lot, but I did it with my right hand, and I can't make a good fist with that hand. On account of that injury I told you about.
底下情况，我记不得太清楚了。我只知道我从床上起来，好象要到盥洗室去似的，可我突然打了他一拳，使尽了我全身的力气，这一拳本来想打在那把叼在他嘴里的牙刷上，好让那牙刷一家伙戳穿他的混帐喉咙，可惜我打偏了。我没打中，只打在他的半边脑袋上。我也许打得他有点儿疼，可并不疼得象我所希望的那么厉害。我本来也许可以打得他很疼，可我是用右手打的，一点也使不上劲儿。
Anyway, the next thing I knew, I was on the goddam floor and he was sitting on my chest, with his face all red. That is, he had his goddam knees on my chest, and he weighed about a ton. He had hold of my wrists, too, so I couldn't take another sock at him. I'd've killed him.
嗯，我记得的下一件事，就是我已躺在混帐地板上了，他满脸通红地坐在我胸脯上。那就是说他用他妈的两个膝盖压着我的胸脯，而他差不多有一吨重。他两手握住了我的手腕，所以我不能再挥拳打他，我真想一拳把他打死。
"What the hell's the matter with you?" he kept saying, and his stupid race kept getting redder and redder.
“他妈的你这是怎么啦？”他不住地说，他的傻脸蛋越来越红。
"Get your lousy knees off my chest," I told him. I was almost bawling. I really was. "Go on, get off a me, ya crumby bastard."
“把你的臭膝盖打我的胸上拿掉，”我对他说。我几乎是在大声呦喝。我的确是的。“滚，打我身上滚开，你这个下流的杂种。”
He wouldn't do it, though. He kept holding onto my wrists and I kept calling him a sonuvabitch and all, for around ten hours. I can hardly even remember what all I said to him. I told him he thought he could give the time to anybody he felt like. I told him he didn't even care if a girl kept all her kings in the back row or not, and the reason he didn't care was because he was a goddam stupid moron. He hated it when you called a moron. All morons hate it when you call them a moron.
可他没那么做，依旧使劲握住我的手腕，我就一个劲儿骂他杂种什么的，这样过了约莫十个钟头。我甚至记不起我都骂他些什么了。我说他大概自以为要跟谁干那事儿就可以干。我说他甚至都不关心一个姑娘在下棋时候是不是把她所有的国王都留在后排，而他所以不关心，是因为他是个傻极了的混帐窝囊废。他最恨你叫他窝囊废。所有的窝囊废都恨别人叫他们窝囊废。
"Shut up, now, Holden," he said with his big stupid red face. "just shut up, now."
“住嘴，嘿，霍尔顿，”他说，他那又大又傻的脸涨得通红。“给我住嘴，嘿。”
"You don't even know if her first name is Jane or Jean, ya goddam moron!"
“你都不知道她的名字是琴还是琼，你这个混帐的窝囊废！”
"Now, shut up, Holden, God damn it--I'm warning ya," he said--I really had him going. "If you don't shut up, I'm gonna slam ya one."
“嘿，住嘴，霍尔顿。真他妈的——我警告你，”他说——我真把他气坏了。“你要是再不住嘴，我可要给你一巴掌了。”
"Get your dirty stinking moron knees off my chest."
“把你那肮脏的、发臭的窝囊膝盖打我的胸膛上拿掉。”
"If I letcha up, will you keep your mouth shut?"
“我要是放你起来，你能不能闭住你的嘴？”
I didn't even answer him.
我甚至没答理他。
He said it over again. "Holden. If I letcha up, willya keep your mouth shut?"
他又说了一遍。“霍尔顿。我要是让你起来，你能不能闭住你的嘴？”
"Yes."
“好吧。”
He got up off me, and I got up, too. My chest hurt like hell from his dirty knees. "You're a dirty stupid sonuvabitch of a moron," I told him.
他从我身上起来，我也跟着站了起来。我的胸隔给他的两个臭膝盖压得疼极了。“你真是个婊子养的又赃又傻的窝囊废，”我对他说。
That got him really mad. He shook his big stupid finger in my face. "Holden, God damn it, I'm warning you, now. For the last time. If you don't keep your yap shut, I'm gonna--"
这真把他气疯了。他把他的一只又粗又笨的指头伸到我脸上指划着。“霍尔顿，真他妈的，我再警告你一次。也是最后一次。你要是再不闭住你的臭嘴，我可要——”
"Why should I?" I said--I was practically yelling. "That's just the trouble with all you morons. You never want to discuss anything. That's the way you can always tell a moron. They never want to discuss anything intellig--"
“我干吗要闭住？”我说——我简直在大声喊叫了。“你们这些窝囊废就是这个毛病。你们从来不肯讨论问题。从这一点上就可以看出你是不是一个窝囊废。他们从来不肯讨论一些聪明的——”
Then he really let one go at me, and the next thing I knew I was on the goddam floor again. I don't remember if he knocked me out or not, but I don't think so. It's pretty hard to knock a guy out, except in the goddam movies. But my nose was bleeding all over the place. When I looked up old Stradlater was standing practically right on top of me. He had his goddam toilet kit under his arm. "Why the hell don'tcha shut up when I tellya to?" he said. He sounded pretty nervous. He probably was scared he'd fractured my skull or something when I hit the floor. It's too bad I didn't. "You asked for it, God damn it," he said. Boy, did he look worried.
我的话没说完，他真的给了我一下子，我只记得紧接着我又躺在混帐的地板上了。我记不起他有没有把我打昏过去，我想大概没有。要把一个人打昏过去并不那么容易，除非是在那些混帐电影里。可我的鼻子上已全是血。我抬头一望，看见老斯特拉德莱塔简直就站在我身上。他还把他那套混帐的梳妆用具夹在胳肢窝底下。“我叫你住嘴，你他妈的干吗不听？”他说话的口气好象很紧张。我一下子倒在地板上，他也许是害怕已把我的脑袋瓜儿打碎了什么的。真倒霉，我的脑袋瓜儿怎么不碎呢。“你这是自找的，真他妈的，”他说。嘿，瞧他的样子倒真有点害怕了。
I didn't even bother to get up. I just lay there in the floor for a while, and kept calling him a moron sonuvabitch. I was so mad, I was practically bawling.
我甚至不打算站起来，就那么在地板上躺了一会儿，不住口地骂他是婊子养的窝囊废。我都气疯了，简直在破口大骂。
"Listen. Go wash your face," Stradlater said. "Ya hear me?"
“听着。快去洗一下脸，”斯特拉德莱塔说。“你听见了没有？”
I told him to go wash his own moron face--which was a pretty childish thing to say, but I was mad as hell. I told him to stop off on the way to the can and give Mrs. Schmidt the time. Mrs. Schmidt was the janitor's wife. She was around sixty-five.
我叫他去洗他自己的窝囊脸——这话当然很孩子气，可我确实气疯了。我叫他到盥洗室去的半路上最好顺便拐个弯，跟席密德太太干那事去。席密德太太是看门人的妻子，大约六十五岁了。
I kept sitting there on the floor till I heard old Stradlater close the door and go down the corridor to the can. Then I got up. I couldn't find my goddam hunting hat anywhere. Finally I found it. It was under the bed. I put it on, and turned the old peak around to the back, the way I liked it, and then I went over and took a look at my stupid face in the mirror. You never saw such gore in your life. I had blood all over my mouth and chin and even on my pajamas and bath robe. It partly scared me and it partly fascinated me. All that blood and all sort of made me look tough. I'd only been in about two fights in my life, and I lost both of them. I'm not too tough. I'm a pacifist, if you want to know the truth.
我坐在地板上不动，直到听见老斯特拉德莱塔关上门，沿着走廊向盥洗室走去，我才站起来。我哪儿也找不到我那顶混帐猎人帽了。最后才在床底下找到。我戴上帽子，把鸭舌转到脑后，我就喜欢这么戴，然后过去照镜子，瞧瞧我自己的笨脸蛋。你这一辈子再也没见过那样的血污。我的嘴上、腮帮上甚至睡衣上和浴衣上全都是血。我有点儿害怕，也有点儿神往。这一片血污倒让我看上去很象个好汉。我这一辈子只打过两次架，两次我都打输了。我算不了好汉。我是个和平主义者，我老实跟你说。
I had a feeling old Ackley'd probably heard all the racket and was awake. So I went through the shower curtains into his room, just to see what the hell he was doing. I hardly ever went over to his room. It always had a funny stink in it, because he was so crumby in his personal habits.
我依稀觉得老阿克莱听见我们争吵，这时正醒着。所以我掀开淋浴室门帘走进他的房间，看看他在做什么。我很少进他的房间。他的房内老是有一股奇怪的臭气，因为他这个人的私生活实在邋遢极了。
Ⅳ 《罗马假日》的经典台词。
《罗马假日》经典台词：
1、我不知道该如何道别，我说不出话来。
I don't know how to say good-bye. I can't think of any words.
2、道别？为什么，我们才刚相识。
Good-bye? Why, we've only just met.
3、大人，我相信你不会再这么说，若我不清楚自己对国和家的责任，今晚我就不会回来，或该说永不会再回来。
Your Excellency, I trust you will not find it necessary to use that word again. Were I not completely aware of my ty to my family and my country, I would not have come back tonight, or, indeed, ever again.
4、人生总不如人愿的，是不是？
Life isn't always what one likes. Is it?
5、真实之口，传说若你说谎，伏拆把手放进去的话，它会咬断你的手。
The mouth of truth. The legend is that if you're given to lying and put your hand in there, it'll be bitten off.
6、我要走了，我会在那街角转身离开，你留在这里，开车离去，各走各的。
I have to leave you now. I'm going to that corner there and turn. You must stay in the car and drive away. Just drive away and leave me, as I leave you.
7、做他那一行的人极少会辞掉工作的缺饥枣，除非身体不好无法继续工作了。
Well, people in that line of work almost never do quit, unless it's actually unhealthy for them to continue.
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