1、 2 译文2为Robert Neather译，选自中国翻译20XX年第4期。 3 译文3为张培基译，选自张培基译注，20XX年,英译中国现代散文选。上海：上海外语教育出版社。语体特征与翻译策略语篇 雨前是作者22岁（1933年）时的作品，后来收入他的画梦路（1936年）。作者早期写诗歌，后多写散文，雨前可以说是一种从诗歌到散文的过渡期间的作品，带有很浓的抒情与诗意。作者通过雨前自然景物和人物情态的描写，渲染出一种久盼甘霖的强烈气氛。句式 如美国学者Edward Gunn所提出的，在同时代的出版物中，画梦路的风格被视为“欧化”写作风格的“先驱”，是现代白话发展中十分重要的作品。雨前是作者的代表作
2、之一，其欧化风格在句式上的表现主要为长句的普遍使用，而长句又主要是由多层定语或多层状语或多层散句或多层复句组成。然而需要注意的是，语篇中有一些与长句交织在一起的短句，这些短句的不时出现，像音乐中不时出现在主旋律旁边的一个副旋律，共同组合成一个和谐的音乐篇章。语义 少口语性词汇，而突出地使用书面语或文学性词汇，如 “遂”、“蔟生”、“萦绕”、“舒息”等。文章在运用形容词作为描写方面的语汇尤为突出，如“灰暗的凄冷的天空”、“有不洁颜色的都市的河沟”等。也许是受到欧化风格的影响，文章大胆运用了某些具有陌生化意义的表达，如“夜色的来袭”、“怀想使我犹豫”、“贪那深深的水里的寒冷”等。这些陌生化的表达既
3、有多种语义主语或宾语的选择，也有非传统意义上的句式上的选择。另外在辞格方面，作者也是颇为用心，集拟人、排比、明喻、拟声、通感、移就、重复等多种辞格于一文，-这一切使得篇章语义表达得既新颖又符合文学审美。 4 翻译策略 根据语用综观论（A Pragmatic Perspective on Language）， 译者要从语境关系的顺应、语言结构的顺应、顺应的动态性和顺应过程的意识程度等四个方面运用目的语传达源发语文本；在翻译过程中要顾及语言的认知、社会和文化等复杂因素在使用目的语文化阐释源发语文化的过程中所起的作用。虽然在翻译时，保留本文的抒情与诗意是十分重要的，但是由于对目的语语言的选择发生在语
4、言结构的任何层面，所以保留本文的抒情与诗意的翻译策略是全方位的。从总体上看，译文2特意使用了比较抒情的英文写作方式：重视句子的长度与节奏；在顺应原文多种辞格的同时，还动态性地使用了头韵之类的诗歌技巧，突出了其文学审美。II 译法要点7.1 变通：分译（句子）7.2变通：增补（重复）7.3递升与Climax7.4 误译：语义逻辑7.5变通：否定（II）7.6 象似性：前置多层定语7.7风格：抽象名词7.8选词：语用综观论7.9 散句与渐进句7.10 长句与综合法7.11 润色：同源宾语7.12 创新：复合名词7.13顺译：主题主语（II）7.14 拟声与Onomatopoeia（I）7.15历史
5、现在时（II）7.16 通感与Synaesthesia7.17移就与Transferred Epithet7.18 润色：Alliteration7.19风格：短句与节奏III 原文与译文【原文】雨前最后的鸽群带着低弱的笛声在微风里划一个圈子后，也消失了。也许是误认这灰暗的凄冷的天空为夜色的来袭，或是也预感到风雨的将至，遂过早地飞回它们温暖的木舍。几天的阳光在柳条上撤下的一抹嫩绿，被尘土埋掩得有憔悴色了，是需要一次洗涤。还有干裂的大地和树根也早已期待着雨。雨却迟疑着。我怀想着故乡的雷声和雨声。那隆隆的有力的搏击，从山谷反响到山谷，仿佛春之芽就从冻土里震动，惊醒，而怒茁出来。细草样柔的雨丝又以温
6、存之手抚摸它，使它簇生油绿的枝叶而开出红色的花。这些怀想如乡愁一样萦绕得使我忧郁了。我心里的气候也和这北方大陆一样缺少雨量，一滴温柔的泪在我枯涩的眼里，如迟疑在这阴沉的天空里的雨点，久不落下。白色的鸭也似有一点烦躁了，有不洁的颜色的都市的河沟里传出它们焦急的叫声。有的还未厌倦那船一样的徐徐的划行。有的却倒插它们的长颈在水里，红色的蹼趾伸在尾后，不停地扑击着水以支持身体的平衡。不知是在寻找沟底的细微食物，还是贪那深深的水里的寒冷。有几个已上岸了。在柳树下来回地作绅士的散步，舒息划行的疲劳。然后参差地站着，用嘴细细地抚理它们遍体白色的羽毛，间或又摇动身子或扑展着阔翅，使那缀在羽毛间的水珠坠落。一个
7、已修饰完毕的，弯曲它的颈到背上，长长的红嘴藏没在翅膀里，静静合上它白色的茸毛间的小黑眼，仿佛准备睡眠。可怜的小动物，你就是这样做你的梦吗?我想起故乡放雏鸭的人了。一大群鹅黄色的雏鸭游牧在溪流间。清浅的水，两岸青青的草，一根长长的竹竿在牧人的手里。他的小队伍是多么欢欣地发出啾啁声，又多么驯服地随着他的竿头越过一个田野又一个山坡!夜来了，帐幕似的竹篷撑在地上，就是他的家。但这是怎样辽远的想象啊!在这多尘土的国度里，我仅只希望听见一点树叶上的雨声。一点雨声的幽凉滴到我憔悴的梦，也许会长成一树圆圆的绿阴来覆荫我自己。我仰起头。天空低垂如灰色雾幕，落下一些寒冷的碎屑到我脸上。一只远来的鹰隼仿佛带着愤怒，
8、对这沉重的天色的愤怒，平张的双翅不动地从天空斜插下，几乎触到河沟对岸的土阜，而又鼓扑着双翅，作出猛烈的声响腾上了。那样巨大的翅使我惊异。我看见了它两胁间斑白的羽毛。接着听见了它有力的鸣声，如同一个巨大的心的呼号，或是在黑暗里寻找伴侣的叫唤。然而雨还是没有来。【译文】译文1Before the Rain Having made the last circle in the breeze, the last of the pigeons disappeared with a faint whistle. Perhaps they mistakingly thought the dark and c
9、old sky to be the coming dim light of night , or perhaps they predicted the coming wind and rain; thus they flew to their warm wooden nest rather early.A plaster of soft green cast on the willow branches after several days of sunlight now had become somewhat withered under the dust. It was in great
10、need of a wash. And the cracked, parched earth and tree roots had long been waiting for rain. But still the rain was slow in coming.I thought of the sound of thunder and rain in my home village. The violent rumbling thunderclapse echoed from valley to valley. It seemed as if spring shoots were shake
11、n, awakened and broke out slender green from the frozen earth. The sound of the rain as soft and thin as grass fondled them with gentle hands, making them shoot up in clusters of glossy dark green branches that waved their blossoming red flowers. This feeling of nostalgia hovered about me, making me
12、 feel melancholy in my heart. The weather in my heart felt just like the immense land in the north that was also lacking rain. A soft tear drop hesitated before falling from my dull and heavy eyes just like the rain paused in the gloomy sky. The white ducks looked a bit agitated, for their anxious c
13、ries came from ditches in the city which had become contaminated and changed colour. Some were not weary, paddling slowly along like boats ; others were putting their long necks into water, stretching their red webbed toes behind and constantly stroking the water to keep their bodies balanced. I don
14、t know whether they were searching for small bits of food at the bottom or just lingering in the coolness of the water below. Some had climbed on to the banks and were walking back and forth under a willow tree just like some gentlemen relieving their fatigue of paddling. Then they stood there irreg
15、ularly, pluming their feathers carefully with their beaks. Sometimes , they swung their bodies or stretched their broad wings out to shake off the water drops in their feathers. One of them had finished the pluming, curling its neck upon the back with its long red beak buried within its wing and lit
16、tle eyes（which were among the fine white soft hair） closed, as if it were going to sleep. Poor small animal , are you dreaming in this way?Thus I recalled the duckling tenders in my home village. A great swarm of yellowish crane ducklings floated in the streams , the shallow blue water beneath, the
17、green grass on both banks, and the long bamboo pole in the hands of the tender. How merrily when his small army was chirping and how timidly when it was passing by one field to another hill slope! When the night fell, a tent-like bamboo cover was erected on the ground as his home. But how far away t
18、hese images appeared! In this dusty land I could only hope for a bit rain pattering on the tree leaves. Here the coolness of a drop of rain dripping into my anxious dreams would grow into a round and shady trees to cover myself. Lifting my head, I saw the sky hung like a grey curtain of mist, and so
19、me chips of coldness fell upon my face. An eagle from afar kept on flying down with its wings inclined, as if it were expressing its angry feeling against the heavy weather. When it nearly touched the earth on the other bank of the ditch, and then shaking its wings violently, it soared high. Its two
20、 huge wings made me surprised, for under which I saw its greyish feathers. Then I heard its virgorous cry,just like the cry of a big heart or a call in search of its companion in the dark. But still the rain was late in coming.译文2With a faint whistling, the last flock of pigeons etched a circle in t
21、he light breeze, then disappeared. Perhaps they mistook the darkness of this chilly, lowering sky for the onset of night, or perhaps they sensed the arrival of a storm, and so returned early to the warmth of their wooden pigeonry.The few days sunlight had splashed the willow twigs with the tender gr
22、een of new growth,but the dust that now covered them made them seem tired and withered, in need of a wash. And the parched, split earth and tree-roots had long since been awaiting rain. But the rain hesitated.I remember fondly the sounds of my birthplace-the sounds of thunder and of rain. Those migh
23、ty crashes rumbled and reverberated from mountain valley to mountain valley, as if the new shoots of spring were shaking in the frozen gound, awakening, and bursting forth with a terrifying vigour. Threads of rain, soft as fine grass, would then caress them with a tender hand, so that clumps of glos
24、sy green leaves would sprout forth and red flowers burst open. These fond recollections lingered with me like a kind of homesickness, leaving me dejected. Within my heart, the climate seemed as parched of rain as this northern continent;and like the raindrops, still hesitating in this leaden sky, fo
25、r a long time not a single tear of tenderness had fallen from my arid eyes.Even the white ducks seemed a little unsentted, their anxious cries rising from the dirty city stream. Some had not yet wearied of their gentle boat-like paddling. But others had stuck their long necks into the water, their r
26、ed webbed feet stretching out behind their tails, continually thrashing at the water in an attempt to keep their bodies balanced. Perhaps they were searching for morsels of food on the stream-bed; or maybe they sought the chill cold of the deep water. Some had come up onto the bank. They swaggered b
27、ack and forth under the willow trees, enjoying a rest from the fatigue of paddling.Then they stood still, in ungainly disarray, smoothing each white feather carefully into place with their beaks; now and then they would shake their bodies or spread their wings, scattering the drops of water caught i
28、n their feathers. One that had already finished preeningcurled its neck up over its back, buried its red beak under its wing, and quietly closed its little black eye,surrounded by soft white down, as if it were preparing to sleep. You poor little creature, is this the way you dream your dreams? I th
29、ought of the person in my birthplace who used to release the ducklings. A great crowd of light yellow ducklings would be taken to the waters of the creek-limpid water, lush green grass on the banks, and a long bamboo staff in the herders hand. How happy his little army was, cheeping with noisy delig
30、ht! And how meekly they followed his staff, over a field and then a mountain slope! When night came, the bamboo shelter propped up on the ground like a tent was his home. Yet what a distant image this is now! In this country of dust, all I hope for is to hear the sound of raindrop on leaves. The dar
31、k cool of the sound of raindrops,dripping into my parched and weary dreams, might grow a rounded canopy of tree-green shade to cover me. I raised my head. The sky loomed like a grey curtain of fog, dropping a few cold shardsupon my face. A lone hawk from afar swooped down from the sky, as if angered
32、, angered by the these leaden skies, its spread wings unmoving, until it almost hit the earthen slope of the streams opposite bank; then it beat its wings and soared back up with a savage stridor. Those huge wings startled me. I could see the greyish feathers of its flanks. And when I heard its piercing cry, it was like a terrible cry from the heart; or perhaps it was calling
