四大名著英文简介

《三国演义》----《The Romance of the Three Kindoms》 《水浒传》----《The Story by the Water Margin》 《红楼梦》----《The Dream of the Red Chamber 》 《西游记》----《Journey to the West》 Chinese Literature - Novels and fiction 红楼梦"The Dream of the Red Chamber" Also called "The story of the Stone (Shitouji 石头记)", this novel written by Cao Xueqin 曹雪芹 is said to be the greatest masterpiece (杰作) of Chinese fiction. With hundreds of persons and their stories, paralleling the life and feelings of servants to the life of the main persons, the story is very complex and full of symbolisms, but very interesting and convincing (有说服力的) for its encyclopedic character (百科全式的人物), describing the life of a noble familiy in the 18th century Qing China 清. 三国演义Romance of The Three Kingdoms Romance of The Three Kingdoms is one of the great chinese classics (中国古典文学) and is compiled into a semi-fictional (半虚构的) literary masterpiece during the Ming Dynasty by Luo Guanzhong. The novel comprises around 70+% fact and 20+% fiction. Some issues such as Guan Yu's weapon weighing around 40+ kilograms, the capabilties of Lu Bu, Liu Bei's horses as well as the existence of the Hill of the Fallen Phoenix and some others are probably fictional. That period in history can be said as the golden age of chivalry (游侠、骑士) and although it happened more than 1700 years ago, characters such as Liu Bei, Cao Cao, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei and Zhuge Liang have become household names among the chinese. Tales of their exploits (开拓), courage, adventures and many more are told in the novel "Romance of The Three Kingdoms".   水浒传Outlaws (亡命徒) of the Marsh (沼泽)/ The water Margin The novel "Outlaws of the Marsh" is somewhat like an ancient epic tale (史诗故事). No one remembers the period it was composed. One knows this story is based on real facts and has inspired many storytellers. One knows the North Song Dynasty (XIIIth Century) lived its apogee (最高点) and declined, a victim of corruption (腐败) and decadence (衰落). One finds historical traces of these outlaws who challenged the imperial authority. Water Margin or Outlaws of the Marsh ("All men are brothers" in Pearl Buck's (Pearl Buck 美国传奇女作家) translation, "Shui hu zhuan" in Chinese, "Au Bord de l'Eau" in French ) is an immortal (不朽的) novel because its tale is universal : it speaks of beings (outlaws but also notables, strong muscled heroes but also intellectual, anarchists (无政府主义者) but also philosophers) who cannot bear injustice nor abuse nor arbitrariness (专横). 西游记Journey to the West Journey to the West is a mythological (神话的) novel based on many centuries of popular tradition. It was probably put into its present form in the 15708 by Wu Cheng’en (1500-82). This lively fantasy relates the amazing adventures of the priest San-zang as he travels west in search of Buddhist sutras (佛经) with his three disciples (徒弟), the monkey king, greedy Pig, and Friar Sand. The main story, the journey, takes the priest through all kinds of tribulations, mainly at the hands of monsters who want to eat him. Only the courage and powers of his disciples, especially Monkey, save him from death. 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?   燕子去了，有再来的时候；杨柳枯了，有再青的时候；桃花谢了，有再开的时候。但是，聪明的，你告诉我，我们的日子为什么一去不复返呢？——是有人偷了他们罢：那是谁？又藏在何处呢？是他们自己逃走了：现在又到了哪里呢？   I don't 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.   我不知道他们给了我多少日子；但我的手确乎是渐渐空虚了。在默默里算着，八千多日子已经从我手中溜去；像针尖上一滴水滴在大海里，我的日子滴在时间的流里，没有声音也没有影子。我不禁头涔涔而泪潸潸了。   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 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.   去的尽管去了，来的尽管来着，去来的中间，又怎样的匆匆呢？早上我起来的时候，小屋里射进两三方斜斜的太阳。太阳他有脚啊，轻轻悄悄地挪移了；我也茫茫然跟着旋转。于是——洗手的时候，日子从水盆里过去；吃饭的时候，日子从饭碗里过去；默默时，便从凝然的双眼前过去。我觉察他去的匆匆了，伸出手遮挽时，他又从遮挽着的手边过去，天黑时，我躺在床上，他便伶伶俐俐地从我身边垮过，从我脚边飞去了。等我睁开眼和太阳再见，这算又溜走了一日。我掩着面叹息。但是新来的日子的影儿又开始在叹息里闪过了。