赫伯特·厄内斯特·贝茨/Herbert Ernest Bates

　　The October leaves have fallen on the lake. On bright, calm days they lie in thousands on the now darkening water, mostly yellow f?lotillas of poplar, f?loating continuously down from great trees that themselves shake in the windless air with the sound of falling water, but on rainy days or after rain they seem to swim or be driven away, and nothing remains to break the surface except the last of the olive-yellow lily pads that in high summer covered every inch of water like plates of emerald porcelain. The lilies have gone too, the yellow small-headed kind that in bud are like swimming snakes, and the great reeds are going, woven by wind and frost into untidy basket islands under which coot and moorhen skid for cover at the sound of strangers.

　　All summer, in this world of water-lilies, the coot and moorhen lived a bewildered life. There was no place where they could swim, and all day they could be seen walking daintily, heads slightly aside and slightly down, cross the lily-hidden water, as bemused by the world of leaves as they had been in winter by the world of ice. In unbroken expect for two small islands. This birds, as the f?it takes them, dash madly up and down it, taking off and touching down like small fussy black sea-planes. Beside them the arrival of the wild duck, at much higher speed, is almost majestic. They plane down, the necks of the drakes shining like royal green satin, with the air of squadrons coming in after long f?lights from home.

　　It was not until late summer f?ishing was possible. The water was so low and clear after drought that the f?ish could be seen in great dark shoals, sunning themselves, shy, impossible to catch. Only in the evenings, as the air cooled and the water darkened, and the surface was broken with the silver dances of the rising shoals, would you perhaps get a bite or two, a baby perch sucking at the worm, a roach no bigger than a sardine. All the time, on bright hot mornings especially, great pike would lie out in the middle of the lake in shoals of ten or even twenty, like black torpedoes, transf?ixed, never moving except in sudden immense rises that rocked the water-surface with rings.

　　It is curious, but all the life on and about water seems to belong to water. Except for a solitary wren f?idgeting delicately about the banks under the alder trees, or a robin singing in the October afternoon across the water from the islands, all the bird-life is that of water birds. Rooks never seem to come here, nor starlings;an occasional pigeon f?laps across to the woods;even the sea-gulls belong to the ploughed land. But wild swans come back to nest in the piles of fawn-colored reeds in the spring, and two great herons stalk the water-meadows every day, struggling ponderously upwards at the sound of voices. Snipe whirl away across the tussocks of brown-quelled sedge on the adjacent marshland, and a solitary kingf?isher breaks with magic electric streaks the dark enclosures under the alders that span the narrowest water. But something, and for long periods, there is no life and no sound at all. The water is slowly stilled after the last f?ish have broken it, the coot are silent, the leaves cease their shaking and falling in the dead October air. The crimson f?loat comes to rest on water that seems to have on it a skin of oil.

　　On such still clear days the color is wonderful. From the south bank of the water poplar and alder and ash and horse-chestnut let fall high liquid curtains of lemon and bronze. Orchards of cherry and pear shoulder with drooping orange f?lames beyond the light wall of almost naked willows. The oaks are still green, but the beeches in the distances stand like red mountains. And on the lake itself unexpected color springs up:an island of quince trees, still green, but hung with many ripe lanterns of bright fruit that no one gathers.

　　十月的枯叶飘落在湖上。在明朗而又平静的日子，成千上万片的树叶散落在此时色泽渐暗的湖面。白杨的大部分黄色小舰队，在没有风飘的空中，不断从高大的树梢上自己振落，稀稀落落，似乎有落水的声音。不过在雨中，或是雨后，这些小船就游走，或者是被吹走了。于是，除了残留的莲叶依然遮住湖面，湖上就再没有侵犯物了。盛夏时节，那些像一个个翡翠玉盘而覆盖了整个湖面的莲叶，如今也枯谢了；而那犹如正在游动的小蛇的黄色小花蕾，此刻也已不复存在。芦苇也萧条了，被寒风和严霜编织成凌乱的篓状小洲。湖上的鸹鸟和黑鸭听到陌生人的响动，便溜进这“小洲”底下躲起来。

　　在睡莲的世界里，鸹鸟和黑鸭整个夏天都过着迷茫的生活。它们没有戏水的地方，只能整天在这莲叶的世界里，时而轻轻侧头，时而微微低头，慢慢地滑过莲叶覆盖的湖面。这叶的世界带给它们同冰雪的严冬一样的茫然。在秋季湖面比较干净的日子，鸹鸟和黑鸭便活跃得多了。长长的湖面，除两处小岛外，大体都连成一片。鸟儿们突发兴致般发狂地在湖面上时上时下，像小小的黑色水上飞机，时升时降。除了这些鸟儿之外，野鸭也会以相当高的速度飞来，甚是壮观。雄鸭脖颈处的羽毛闪耀着如昂贵的深绿缎面般的光泽，犹如经过了长途远行的空军中队，初次降落在这里。

　　要等到夏末才可以钓鱼。湖水经过干旱之后，水面变得清且浅。你会看到成群的黑鱼浮到水面来晒太阳。它们怕羞易惊，要捕捉到是很难的。只有在傍晚的时候，随着天气变凉，湖水也变暗了，湖面也会被游上水来的鱼群的银色舞蹈划破，这时，你才可能钓到一两条初生的鲈鱼，或比沙丁鱼还小的鳊鱼。整个夏季，尤其是晴热的早晨，十到二十条大梭子鱼的鱼群会漂在湖中心，像黑色的电鳐，呆呆地浮在水面，只是偶尔突然的一个挺身，使水面漾起道道涟漪。

　　尽管很令人奇怪，但是似乎水中和水上的生命都与水密切相关。除了一只孤独的鹪鹩在岸边的桤树下心不在焉地站立着，还有在十月的午后哼唱着从岛上飞过湖面的知更鸟，所有的鸟类都属于水鸟。白嘴鸦似乎从来也没有来过，八哥也是。偶尔有一只鸽子拍打着翅膀掠过湖面，飞到林间去了。就连海鸥也成了陆地上的禽类。但是春天，野天鹅会回到淡黄色的芦苇丛中安家，并且有两只高大的苍鹭，每天在河边的草地上跺着步子，听到响声必奋力地、笨重地昂起头来。鹬鸟在沼泽地的棕色莎草丛上空盘旋；有时，一只翠鸟也魔幻般地飞过桤树下的阴暗树篱，树篱就横跨在最窄的水面处。但是有时，这里也会在好长的一段时间里寂静无声。最后一只鱼打破湖面的平静之后，湖水渐渐静寂下来。黑鸭沉默了，树叶也在十月的空气中停止了摇动与飘落。深红色的浮萍静止在平静的水面。

　　在这样清新的日子里，湖上的色彩依旧很美。南岸的白杨、桤树、栲树和七叶树在湖中投下如柠檬黄和青铜色水帘般的倒影。樱桃园、梨子园火红一片，几乎光秃的秋柳是挡不住那橙黄的火焰的。橡树依然是郁郁葱葱，但是远处的山毛榉却像红色的山峰一样挺立着。湖面本身就有意想不到的绚丽色彩：长满温柏的岛屿依旧是苍绿的，但树的枝头挂满了没人采摘的成熟果实，它们就如盏盏灯笼一样悬挂着。

　　心灵小语

　　在这样清新的日子里，湖上的色彩依旧很美。

　　词汇笔记

　　majestic[m?'d?estik]adj.宏伟的；壮丽的；庄重的；磅礴的

　　Purple is a majestic or royal color.

　　紫色是一种代表庄严或皇室的颜色。

　　immense[i'mens]adj.极大的，巨大的；浩瀚的，无边际的

　　With immense relief I stopped running.

　　我长长地松了一口气，停止了奔跑。

　　ponderously['p?nd?r?sli]adv.笨重地；生硬地

　　He is ponderously capricious.

　　他十分反复无常。

　　crimson['krimzn]adj.深红色的

　　Let me see the crimson one please.

　　请拿件深红色的给我看看。

　　小试身手

　　在明朗而又平静的日子，成千上万片的树叶散落在此时色泽渐暗的湖面。

　　译______________________________

　　偶尔有一只鸽子拍打着翅膀掠过湖面，飞到林间去了。

　　译______________________________

　　在这样清新的日子里，湖上的色彩依旧很美。

　　译______________________________

　　短语家族

　　It is curious, but all the life on and about water seems to belong to water.

　　seem to：好像，看来

　　造______________________________

　　And on the lake itself unexpected color springs up:an island of quince trees, still green, but hung with many ripe lanterns of bright fruit that no one gathers.

　　spring up：出现；涌现；萌芽

　　造______________________________