首页 那时的如水月光

八月 August

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[英国]查尔斯·狄更斯/Charles Dickens

查尔斯·狄更斯(1812-1870),英国著名散文家、小说家。早年以“Boz”的笔名在报章杂志上发表作品,文章深刻探讨社会病态、道德沦落等现象。狄更斯一生创作了大量的作品,除了小说以外,他在散文、游记、诗歌等各种体裁上均有涉猎,但成就最高的还是长篇小说。其代表作有《双城记》、《匹克威克外传》、《大卫·科波菲尔》、《荒凉山庄》、《艰难时世》。

There is no month in the whole year, in which nature wears a more beautiful appearance than in the month of August. Spring has many beauties, and May is a fresh and blooming month, but the charms of this time of year are enhanced by their contrast with the winter season. August has no such advantage. It comes when we remember nothing but clear skies, green fields, and sweet-smelling flowers-when the recollection of snow, and ice, and bleak winds, has faded from our minds as completely as they have disappeared from the earth-and yet what a pleasant time it is!Orchards and cornfields ring with the hum of labour;trees bend beneath the thick clusters of rich fruit which bow their branches to the ground;and the corn, piled in graceful sheaves, or waving in every light breath that sweeps above it, as if it wooed the sickle, tinges the landscape with a golden hue. A mellow softness appears to hang over the whole earth;the influence of the season seems to extend itself to the very waggon, whose slow motion across the well-reaped field, is perceptible only to the eye, but strikes with no harsh sound upon the ear.

As the coach rolls swiftly past the fields and orchards which skirt the road, groups of women and children, piling the fruit in sieves, or gathering the scattered ears of corn, pause for an instant from their labour, and shading the sunburnt face with a still browner hand, gaze upon the passengers with curious eyes, while some stout urchin, too small to work but too mischievous to be left at home, scrambles over the side of the basket in which he has been deposited for security, and kicks and screams with delight. The reaper stops in his work, and stands with folded arms, looking at the vehicle as it whirls past;and the rough cart-horses bestow a sleepy glance upon the smart coach team, which says, as plainly as a horse's glance can,“It's all very fine to look at, but slow going, over a heavy field, is better than warm work like that, upon a dusty road, after all.”You cast a look behind you, as you turn a corner of the road. The women and children have resumed their labour:the reaper once more stoops to his work:the cart-horses has moved on:and all are again in motion.