香港存储脐带血的6大原因

【带▲符号 加粗的为需要翻译文段】 Unit 3 共三段 It was in Burma, a sodden morning of the rains. A sickly light, like yellow tinfoil, was slanting over the high walls into the jail yard. We were waiting outside the condemned cells, a row of sheds fronted with double bars, like small animal cages. Each cell measured about ten feet by ten and was quite bare within except for a plank bed and a pot of drinking water. In some of them brown silent men were squatting at the inner bars, with their blankets draped round them. These were the condemned men, due to be hanged within the next week or two. ▲ One prisoner had been brought out of his cell. He was a Hindu, a puny wisp of a man, with a shaven head and vague liquid eyes. He had a thick, sprouting moustache, absurdly too big for his body, rather like the moustache of a comic man on the films. Six tall Indian warders were guarding him and getting him ready for the gallows. Two of them stood by with rifles and fixed bayonets, while the others handcuffed him, passed a chain through his handcuffs and fixed it to their belts, and lashed his arms tight to his sides. They crowded very close about him, with their hands always on him in a careful, caressing grip, as though all the while feeling him to make sure he was there. It was like men handling a fish which is still alive and may jump back into the water. But he stood quite unresisting, yielding his arms limply to the ropes, as though he hardly noticed what was happening. 一个死囚已经被带出他的牢房。这是个瘦瘦小小的印度北方人，瘦得能一把攥起来，他的头发给剃掉了，但却长着浓密的胡茬子，特别像电影里滑稽角色的那种胡子，真不敢相信这么一付小身板能长出这么大一把胡子。他眼睛里噙满泪水，但他的目光却是一片茫然。六个大个子印度籍看守围着他，替他做上绞架的准备工作。其中两位端着上了刺刀的步枪站在一边，其他几位忙着给他上手铐，之后把一根链子穿过他的手铐，绑在他们自己的腰带上，他的胳膊被紧紧地绑在身体两侧。那几个人把他围得严严实实，七八只手在他身上细心地用着力，像是在爱抚他、无时无刻都要感觉到他的存在。这场景颇似几个人在对付一条活蹦乱跳的鱼，生怕它随时可能跳回水里去一般。但他只是站着，毫无反抗之意，任凭双臂被绳子摆布，似乎他根本注意不到正在发生的事情。 Eight o’clock struck and a bugle call, desolately thin in the wet air, floated from the distant barracks. The superintendent of the jail, who was standing apart from the rest of us, moodily prodding the gravel with his stick, raised his head at the sound. He was an army doctor, with a grey toothbrush moustache and a gruff voice. ‘For God’s sake hurry up, Francis,’ he said irritably. ‘The man ought to have been dead by this time. Aren’t you ready yet?’ Francis, the head jailer, a fat Dravidian in a white drill suit and gold spectacles, waved his black hand. ‘Yes sir, yes sir,’ he bubbled. ‘All iss satisfactorily prepared. The hangman is waiting. We shall proceed.’ ‘Well, quick march, then. The prisoners can’t get their breakfast till this job’s over.’ We set out for the gallows. Two warders marched on either side of the prisoner, with their rifles at the slope; two others marched close against him, gripping him by arm and shoulder, as though at once pushing and supporting him. The rest of us, magistrates and the like, followed behind. It was about forty yards to the gallows. I watched the bare brown back of the prisoner marching in front of me. He walked clumsily with his bound arms, but quite steadily, with that bobbing gait of the Indian who never straightens his knees. At each step his muscles slid neatly into place, the lock of hair on his scalp danced up and down, his feet printed themselves on the wet gravel. And once, in spite of the men who gripped him by each shoulder, he stepped slightly aside to avoid a puddle on the path. ▲ It is curious, but till that moment I had never realized what it means to destroy a healthy, conscious man. When I saw the prisoner step aside to avoid the puddle, I saw the mystery, the unspeakable wrongness, of cutting a life short when it is in full tide. This man was not dying; he was alive just as we were alive. All the organs of his body were working – bowels digesting food, skin renewing itself, nails growing, tissues forming – all toiling away in solemn foolery. His nails would still be growing when he stood on the drop, when he was falling through the air with a tenth of a second to live. His eyes saw the yellow gravel and the grey walls, and his brain still remembered, foresaw, reasoned – reasoned even about puddles. He and we were a party of men walking together, seeing, hearing, feeling, understanding the same world; and in two minutes, with a sudden snap, one of us would be gone – one mind less, one world less. 这让我有些讶异，直到这一刻我才认识到毁灭一个健康的、有意识的人意味着什么。当我看到那个犯人往旁边闪了一步以躲开路上的那个水坑时，我看到了一个充满生机的生命，而这个生命即将戛然而止，这是个神秘而又无法言说的谬误。这不是一个奄奄一息的人，他活得和在场的其他人一样状态良好。他身上的所有器官都在工作：肠道在消化食物、皮肤在新陈代谢、指甲在生长、各类组织在形成——所有这一切的劳碌此刻仍在进行，即便等着它们的是场一本正经的愚蠢仪式。当他站在绞架踏板上的时候，他的指甲还在生长；甚至在他坠入空气中的那十分之一秒之内，他的指甲也还在生长。他的眼中还看得见黄色的砂砾和灰色的院墙；他的大脑还有记忆力、预见力和支配力——比如支配他躲开路上的水坑。他和我们同样是人类，我们走在一起，我们看到、听到、感受到以及理解的是同一个世界；但是要不了两分钟，也就突然“啪”的一下，我们中间的一个就撒手人寰了——少了一颗心灵，少了一个世界。 The gallows stood in a small yard, separate from the main grounds of the prison, and overgrown with tall prickly weeds. It was a brick erection like three sides of a shed, with planking on top, and above that two beams and a crossbar with the rope dangling. The hangman, a grey-haired convict in the white uniform of the prison, was waiting beside his machine. He greeted us with a servile crouch as we entered. At a word from Francis the two warders, gripping the prisoner more closely than ever, half led, half pushed him to the gallows and helped him clumsily up the ladder. Then the hangman climbed up and fixed the rope round the prisoner’s neck. We stood waiting, five yards away. The warders had formed in a rough circle round the gallows. And then, when the noose was fixed, the prisoner began crying out on his god. It was a high, reiterated cry of ‘Ram! Ram! Ram! Ram!’, not urgent and fearful like a prayer or a cry for help, but steady, rhythmical, almost like the tolling of a bell. The dog answered the sound with a whine. The hangman, still standing on the gallows, produced a small cotton bag like a flour bag and drew it down over the prisoner’s face. But the sound, muffled by the cloth, still persisted, over and over again: ‘Ram! Ram! Ram! Ram! Ram!’ The hangman climbed down and stood ready, holding the lever. Minutes seemed to pass. The steady, muffled crying from the prisoner went on and on, ‘Ram! Ram! Ram!’ never faltering for an instant. The superintendent, his head on his chest, was slowly poking the ground with his stick; perhaps he was counting the cries, allowing the prisoner a fixed number – fifty, perhaps, or a hundred. Everyone had changed color. The Indians had gone grey like bad coffee, and one or two of the bayonets were wavering. We looked at the lashed, hooded man on the drop, and listened to his cries – each cry another second of life; the same thought was in all our minds: oh, kill him quickly, get it over, stop that abominable noise! Suddenly the superintendent made up his mind. Throwing up his .head he made a swift motion with his stick. ‘Chalo!’ he shouted almost fiercely. There was a clanking noise, and then dead silence. The prisoner had vanished, and the rope was twisting on itself. I let go of the dog, and it galloped immediately to the back of the gallows; but when it got there it stopped short, barked, and then retreated into a corner of the yard, where it stood among the weeds, looking timorously out at us. We went round the gallows to inspect the prisoner’s body. He was dangling with his toes pointed straight downwards, very slowly revolving, as dead as a stone. The superintendent reached out with his stick and poked the bare body; it oscillated, slightly. ‘He’s all right,’ said the superintendent. He backed out from under the gallows, and blew out a deep breath. The moody look had gone out of his face quite suddenly. He glanced at his wrist-watch. ‘Eight minutes past eight. Well, that’s all for this morning, thank God.’ ▲ The warders unfixed bayonets and marched away. The dog, sobered and conscious of having misbehaved itself, slipped after them. We walked out of the gallows yard, past the condemned cells with their waiting prisoners, into the big central yard of the prison. The convicts were already receiving their breakfast. They squatted in long rows, each man holding a tin pannikin, while two warders with buckets marched round ladling out rice; it seemed quite a homely, jolly scene, after the hanging. An enormous relief had come upon us now that the job was done. One felt an impulse to sing, to break into a run, to snigger. All at once everyone began chattering gaily. 看守们卸下刺刀，整队回去了。那只狗也似乎冷静下来，意识到自己方才行为不端，灰溜溜地跟着他们走了。我们走出绞刑场，走过那排死牢和里面等死的人，走进位于监狱中央的大院子。犯人们已经在打早饭了，看守们拎着警棍在一旁呼来喝去的。每个犯人都手持一个铁盘子，他们蹲成长长一队，两个看守提着饭桶沿队伍移动，往盘子里一勺一勺扣着米饭，看起来是一派安宁祥和的气象——尤其是在一次绞刑之后。那活儿忙完了，这让我们每个人都如释重负，都有想干点什么的冲动，比如唱两嗓子或者疯跑一通，哪怕是能偷着乐两声也不赖。于是忽然之间每个人都好像成了快活的小鸟，嘁嘁喳喳个没完没了。 The Eurasian boy walking beside me nodded towards the way we had come, with a knowing smile: ‘Do you know, sir, our friend (he meant the dead man), when he heard his appeal had been dismissed, he pissed on the floor of his cell. From fright. – Kindly take one of my cigarettes, sir. Do you not admire my new silver case, sir? From the boxwallah, two rupees eight annas. Classy European style.’ Several people laughed – at what, nobody seemed certain. Francis was walking by the superintendent, talking garrulously. ‘Well, sir, all has passed off with the utmost satisfactoriness. It was all finished – flick! like that. It iss not always so – oh, no! I have known cases where the doctor was obliged to go beneath the gallows and pull the prisoner’s legs to ensure decease. Most disagreeable! ‘Wriggling about, eh? That’s bad,’ said the superintendent. ‘Ach, sir, it is worse when they become refractory! One man, I recall, clung to the bars of hiss cage when we went to take him out. You will scarcely credit, sir, that it took six warders to dislodge him, three pulling at each leg. We reasoned with him. “My dear fellow,” we said, “think of all the pain and trouble you are causing to us!” But no, he would not listen! Ach, he was very troublesome!’ I found that I was laughing quite loudly. Everyone was laughing. Even the superintendent grinned in a tolerant way. ‘You’d better all come out and have a drink,’ he said quite genially. ‘I’ve got a bottle of whisky in the car. We could do with it.’ We went through the big double gates of the prison, into the road. ‘Pulling at his legs!’ exclaimed a Burmese magistrate suddenly, and burst into a loud chuckling. We all began laughing again. At that moment Francis’s anecdote seemed extraordinarily funny. We all had a drink together, native and European alike, quite amicably. The dead man was a hundred yards away. Unit6 共三段 ▲ Mr. President: No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings. 议长先生： 我比任何人更钦佩刚刚在议会上发言的先生们的爱国精神和才能。但是，对同一事物的看法往往因人而异。因此，尽管我的观点与他们截然不同，我还是要毫无保留地、自由地予以阐述，并且希望不要因此而被视作对先生们的不敬；现在不是讲客气的时候。 摆在议会代们面前的问关系到国家的存亡。我认为，这是关系到享受自由还是蒙受奴役的大问题，而且正由于它事关重大，我们的辩论就必须做到各抒己见。只有这样，我们才有可能弄清事实真相，才能不辜负上帝和祖国赋予我们的重任。在这种时刻，如果怕冒犯别人而闲口不言，我认为就是叛国，就是对比世间所有国君更为神圣的上帝的不忠。 议长先生，对希望抱有幻觉是人的天性。我们易于闭起眼睛不愿正视痛苦的现实，并倾听海妖惑人的歌声，让她把我们化作禽兽。在为自由而进行艰苦卓绝的斗争中，这难道是有理智的人的作为吗？难道我们愿意成为对获得自由这样休戚相关的事视而不见，充耳不闻的人吗？就我来说，无论在精神上有多么痛苦，我仍然愿意了解全部事实真相和最坏的事态，并为之做好充分准备。 ▲ I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation—the last arguments to which kings resort. 我只有一盏指路明灯，那就是经验之灯。除了过去的经验，我没有什么别的可以判断未来。而依据过去的经验，我倒希望知道，10年来英国政府的所作所为，凭什么足以使各位先生有理由满怀希望，并欣然用来安慰自己和议会？难道就是最近接受我们请愿时的那种狡诈的微笑吗？不要相信这种微笑，先生，事实已经证明它是你们脚边的陷阶。 不要被人家的亲吻出卖吧！请你们自问，接受我们请愿时的和气亲善和遍布我们海陆疆域的大规模备战如何能够相称？难道出于对我们的爱护与和解，有必要动用战舰和军队吗？难道我们流露过决不和解的愿望，以至为了赢回我们的爱，而必须诉诸武力吗？我们不要再欺骗自己了，先生。这些都是战争和征服的工具，是国王采取的最后论辩手段。 我要请问先生们，这些战争部署如果不是为了迫使我们就范，那又意味着什么？哪位先生能够指出有其他动机？难道在世界的这一角，还有别的敌人值得大不列颠如此兴师动众，集结起庞大的海陆武装吗？不，先生们，没有任何敌人了。一切都是针对我们的，而不是别人。他们是派来给我们套紧那条由英国政府长期以来铸造的锁链的。 ▲ Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free-- if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us! 我们应该如何进行抵抗呢？还靠辩论吗？先生，我们已经辩论了10年了。难道还有什么新的御敌之策吗？没有了。我们已经从各方面经过了考虑，但一切都是枉然。难道我们还要苦苦哀告，卑词乞求吗？难道我们还有什么更好盼策略没有使用过吗？先生，我请求你们，千万不要再自欺欺人了。为了阻止这场即将来临的风暴，一切该做的都已经做了。我们请愿过，我们抗议过，我们哀求过；我们曾拜倒在英王御座前，恳求他制止国会和内阁的残暴行径。可是，我们的请愿受到蔑视，我们的抗议反而招致更多的镇压和侮辱，我们的哀求被置之不理。我们被轻蔑地从御座边一脚踢开了。事到如今，我们怎么还能沉迷于虚无缥渺的和平希望之中呢?没有任何希望的余地了。假如我们想获得自由，并维护我们长期以来为之献身的崇高权利，假如我们不愿彻底放弃我们多年来的斗争，不获全胜，决不收兵。那么，我们就必须战斗！我再重复一遍，我们必须战斗！我们只有诉诸武力，只有求助于万军之主的上帝。 议长先生，他们说我们太弱小了，无法抵御如此强大的敌人。但是我们何时才能强大起来？是下周，还是明年？难道要等到我们被彻底解除武装，家家户户都驻扎英国士兵的时候？难道我们犹豫迟疑、无所作为就能积聚起力量吗？难道我们高枕而卧，抱着虚幻的希望，待到敌人捆住了我们的千脚，就能找到有效的御敌之策了吗？ 先生们，只要我们能妥善地利用自然之神赐予我们的力量，我们就不弱小。一旦300万人民为了神圣的自由事业，在自己的国土上武装起来，那么任何敌人都无法战胜我们，此外，我们并非孤军作战，公正的上帝主宰着各国的命运，他将号召朋友们为我们而战，先生们，战争的胜利并非只属于强者。它将属于那些机警、主动和勇敢的人们。阿况我们已经别无选择。即使我们没有骨气，想退出战斗，也为时已晚。 退路已经切断，除非甘受屈辱和奴役。囚禁我们的咖锁，已经铸成。叮叮的镣铐声已经在波士顿草原上回响。战争已经无可避免——让它来吧！我重复一遍，先生，让它来吧！企图使事态得到缓和是徒劳的。各位先生可以高喊：和平！和平！但根本不存在和平。战斗实际上已经打响。从北方刮来的风暴将把武器的铿锵回响传到我们耳中。我们的弟兄已经奔赴战场！我们为什么还要站在这里袖手旁观呢？先生们想要做什么？他们会得到什么？难道生命就这么可贵，和平就这么甜蜜，竟值得以镣铐和奴役作为代价？全能的上帝啊，制止他们这样做吧！我不知道别人会如何行事；至于我，不自由，毋宁死！