旅游  |  攻略  |  美食  |  自驾  |  团购
您的位置: 青海省旅游网 / 规划 / 新闻动态 / 青海要闻


来源:管优惠    发布时间:2018年11月17日 21:24:59    编辑:admin         

百度贴吧昨天发布公告,为加大对正版内容的保护力度,维护原创作者权益,宣布文学目录下的全部贴吧将分批次给予暂关。截至目前,百度贴吧已经对数千个文学类目贴吧进行暂时关闭处理,后续将全面清查其中可能存在的盗版侵权内容,待清查完毕后再向网友开放。【新闻】请看《中国日报》的报道BEIJING - Baidu said Monday that it will gradually close its online literature forum over concerns of piracy.北京消息,百度周一表示,为打击盗版,百度将逐步关闭网络文学贴吧。【讲解】online literature forum是网络文学贴吧。百度开设了2条发帖投诉举报(tipoffs)绿色通道“全民举报吧”和“贴吧曝光台”。百度表示,一旦接到举报,将立即开展清查并在12小时内删除相关的盗版侵权内容(remove pirated content within 12 hours)。百度此举是对新华网三月底一篇报道的回应(in response to,对……的回应),当时报道称百度贴吧是盗版网络文学的最大来源(the biggest source of pirated literature online)。国家版权局(National Copyright Administration of China)表示持(endorse)百度,并表示会认真对待此事(take the matter very seriously)。我国已连续11年(11 consecutive years)开展打击网络侵权盗版的“剑网”专项行动(special campaigns against online piracy),对规范网络版权秩序成效明显。今年,四部门将开展“剑网2016”专项行动,重点整治网络文学侵权盗版(focus on piracy of online literature),以进一步维护和营造良好的网络文学版权秩序和生态。 /201605/445495。

Stop it,it#39;s nauseating! 别说了,肉麻!还有一种说法None of it, it#39;s sickening! ( an answer to an act of cruelty)Stop it, it#39;s nauseating! ( an answer to sth you dislike) /201702/474230。

THE SHOES OF FORTUNE (注:中英译文有出入)I. A BeginningEvery author has some peculiarity in his descriptions or in his style ofwriting. Those who do not like him, magnify it, shrug up their shoulders, andexclaim--there he is again! I, for my part, know very well how I can bringabout this movement and this exclamation. It would happen immediately if Iwere to begin here, as I intended to do, with: "Rome has its Corso, Naples itsToledo"--"Ah! that Andersen; there he is again!" they would cry; yet I must,to please my fancy, continue quite quietly, and add: "But Copenhagen has itsEast Street."Here, then, we will stay for the present. In one of the houses not far fromthe new market a party was invited--a very large party, in order, as is oftenthe case, to get a return invitation from the others. One half of the companywas aly seated at the card-table, the other half awaited the result of thestereotype preliminary observation of the lady of the house:"Now let us see what we can do to amuse ourselves."They had got just so far, and the conversation began to crystallise, as itcould but do with the scanty stream which the commonplace world supplied.Amongst other things they spoke of the middle ages: some praised that periodas far more interesting, far more poetical than our own too sober present;indeed Councillor Knap defended this opinion so warmly, that the hostessdeclared immediately on his side, and both exerted themselves with unweariedeloquence. The Councillor boldly declared the time of King Hans to be thenoblest and the most happy period.** A.D. 1482-1513While the conversation turned on this subject, and was only for a momentinterrupted by the arrival of a journal that contained nothing worth ing,we will just step out into the antechamber, where cloaks, mackintoshes,sticks, umbrellas, and shoes, were deposited. Here sat two female figures, ayoung and an old one. One might have thought at first they were servants cometo accompany their mistresses home; but on looking nearer, one soon saw theycould scarcely be mere servants; their forms were too noble for that, theirskin too fine, the cut of their dress too striking. Two fairies were they; theyounger, it is true, was not Dame Fortune herself, but one of thewaiting-maids of her handmaidens who carry about the lesser good things thatshe distributes; the other looked extremely gloomy--it was Care. She alwaysattends to her own serious business herself, as then she is sure of having itdone properly.They were telling each other, with a confidential interchange of ideas, wherethey had been during the day. The messenger of Fortune had only executed a fewunimportant commissions, such as saving a new bonnet from a shower of rain,etc.; but what she had yet to perform was something quite unusual."I must tell you," said she, "that to-day is my birthday; and in honor of it,a pair of walking-shoes or galoshes has been entrusted to me, which I am tocarry to mankind. These shoes possess the property of instantly transportinghim who has them on to the place or the period in which he most wishes to be;every wish, as regards time or place, or state of being, will be immediatelyfulfilled, and so at last man will be happy, here below.""Do you seriously believe it?" replied Care, in a severe tone of reproach."No; he will be very unhappy, and will assuredly bless the moment when hefeels that he has freed himself from the fatal shoes.""Stupid nonsense!" said the other angrily. "I will put them here by the door.Some one will make a mistake for certain and take the wrong ones--he will be ahappy man."Such was their conversation.II. What Happened to the CouncillorIt was late; Councillor Knap, deeply occupied with the times of King Hans,intended to go home, and malicious Fate managed matters so that his feet,instead of finding their way to his own galoshes, slipped into those ofFortune. Thus caparisoned the good man walked out of the well-lighted roomsinto East Street. By the magic power of the shoes he was carried back to thetimes of King Hans; on which account his foot very naturally sank in the mudand puddles of the street, there having been in those days no pavement inCopenhagen."Well! This is too bad! How dirty it is here!" sighed the Councillor. "As to apavement, I can find no traces of one, and all the lamps, it seems, have goneto sleep."The moon was not yet very high; it was besides rather foggy, so that in thedarkness all objects seemed mingled in chaotic confusion. At the next cornerhung a votive lamp before a Madonna, but the light it gave was little betterthan none at all; indeed, he did not observe it before he was exactly underit, and his eyes fell upon the bright colors of the pictures which representedthe well-known group of the Virgin and the infant Jesus."That is probably a wax-work show," thought he; "and the people delay takingdown their sign in hopes of a late visitor or two."A few persons in the costume of the time of King Hans passed quickly by him."How strange they look! The good folks come probably from a masquerade!"Suddenly was heard the sound of drums and fifes; the bright blaze of a fireshot up from time to time, and its ruddy gleams seemed to contend with thebluish light of the torches. The Councillor stood still, and watched a moststrange procession pass by. First came a dozen drummers, who understood prettywell how to handle their instruments; then came halberdiers, and some armedwith cross-bows. The principal person in the procession was a priest.Astonished at what he saw, the Councillor asked what was the meaning ofall this mummery, and who that man was."That's the Bishop of Zealand," was the answer."Good Heavens! What has taken possession of the Bishop?" sighed theCouncillor, shaking his head. It certainly could not be the Bishop; eventhough he was considered the most absent man in the whole kingdom, and peopletold the drollest anecdotes about him. Reflecting on the matter, and withoutlooking right or left, the Councillor went through East Street and across theHabro-Platz. The bridge leading to Palace Square was not to be found; scarcelytrusting his senses, the nocturnal wanderer discovered a shallow piece ofwater, and here fell in with two men who very comfortably were rocking to andfro in a boat."Does your honor want to cross the ferry to the Holme?" asked they."Across to the Holme!" said the Councillor, who knew nothing of the age inwhich he at that moment was. "No, I am going to Christianshafen, to LittleMarket Street."Both men stared at him in astonishment."Only just tell me where the bridge is," said he. "It is really unpardonablethat there are no lamps here; and it is as dirty as if one had to wade througha morass."The longer he spoke with the boatmen, the more unintelligible did theirlanguage become to him."I don't understand your Bornholmish dialect," said he at last, angrily, andturning his back upon them. He was unable to find the bridge: there was norailway either. "It is really disgraceful what a state this place is in,"muttered he to himself. Never had his age, with which, however, he was alwaysgrumbling, seemed so miserable as on this evening. "I'll take ahackney-coach!" thought he. But where were the hackney-coaches? Not onewas to be seen."I must go back to the New Market; there, it is to be hoped, I shall find somecoaches; for if I don't, I shall never get safe to Christianshafen."So off he went in the direction of East Street, and had nearly got to the endof it when the moon shone forth."God bless me! What wooden scaffolding is that which they have set up there?"cried he involuntarily, as he looked at East Gate, which, in those days, wasat the end of East Street.He found, however, a little side-door open, and through this he went, andstepped into our New Market of the present time. It was a huge desolate plain;some wild bushes stood up here and there, while across the field flowed abroad canal or river. Some wretched hovels for the Dutch sailors, resemblinggreat boxes, and after which the place was named, lay about in confuseddisorder on the opposite bank."I either behold a fata morgana, or I am regularly tipsy," whimpered out theCouncillor. "But what's this?"He turned round anew, firmly convinced that he was seriously ill. He gazed atthe street formerly so well known to him, and now so strange in appearance,and looked at the houses more attentively: most of them were of wood, slightlyput together; and many had a thatched roof."No--I am far from well," sighed he; "and yet I drank only one glass of punch;but I cannot suppose it--it was, too, really very wrong to give us punch andhot salmon for supper. I shall speak about it at the first opportunity. I havehalf a mind to go back again, and say what I suffer. But no, that would be toosilly; and Heaven only knows if they are up still."He looked for the house, but it had vanished."It is really dful," groaned he with increasing anxiety; "I cannotrecognise East Street again; there is not a single decent shop from one end tothe other! Nothing but wretched huts can I see anywhere; just as if I were atRingstead. Oh! I am ill! I can scarcely bear myself any longer. Where thedeuce can the house be? It must be here on this very spot; yet there is notthe slightest idea of resemblance, to such a degree has everything changedthis night! At all events here are some people up and stirring. Oh! oh! I amcertainly very ill."He now hit upon a half-open door, through a chink of which a faint lightshone. It was a sort of hostelry of those times; a kind of public-house. Theroom had some resemblance to the clay-floored halls in Holstein; a prettynumerous company, consisting of seamen, Copenhagen burghers, and a fewscholars, sat here in deep converse over their pewter cans, and gave littleheed to the person who entered."By your leave!" said the Councillor to the Hostess, who came bustling towardshim. "I've felt so queer all of a sudden; would you have the goodness to sendfor a hackney-coach to take me to Christianshafen?"The woman examined him with eyes of astonishment, and shook her head; she thenaddressed him in German. The Councillor thought she did not understand Danish,and therefore repeated his wish in German. This, in connection with hiscostume, strengthened the good woman in the belief that he was a foreigner.That he was ill, she comprehended directly; so she brought him a pitcher ofwater, which tasted certainly pretty strong of the sea, although it had beenfetched from the well.The Councillor supported his head on his hand, drew a long breath, and thoughtover all the wondrous things he saw around him."Is this the Daily News of this evening?" he asked mechanically, as he saw theHostess push aside a large sheet of paper.The meaning of this councillorship query remained, of course, a riddle to her,yet she handed him the paper without replying. It was a coarse wood-cut,representing a splendid meteor "as seen in the town of Cologne," which was tobe below in bright letters."That is very old!" said the Councillor, whom this piece of antiquity began tomake considerably more cheerful. "Pray how did you come into possession ofthis rare print? It is extremely interesting, although the whole is a merefable. Such meteorous appearances are to be explained in this way--that theyare the reflections of the Aurora Borealis, and it is highly probable they arecaused principally by electricity."Those persons who were sitting nearest him and heard his speech, stared at himin wonderment; and one of them rose, took off his hat respectfully, and saidwith a serious countenance, "You are no doubt a very learned man, Monsieur.""Oh no," answered the Councillor, "I can only join in conversation on thistopic and on that, as indeed one must do according to the demands of the worldat present.""Modestia is a fine virtue," continued the gentleman; "however, as to yourspeech, I must say mihi secus videtur: yet I am willing to suspend myjudicium.""May I ask with whom I have the pleasure of speaking?" asked the Councillor."I am a Bachelor in Theologia," answered the gentleman with a stiff reverence.This reply fully satisfied the Councillor; the title suited the dress. "He iscertainly," thought he, "some village schoolmaster--some queer old fellow,such as one still often meets with in Jutland.""This is no locus docendi, it is true," began the clerical gentleman; "yet Ibeg you earnestly to let us profit by your learning. Your ing in theancients is, sine dubio, of vast extent?""Oh yes, I've something, to be sure," replied the Councillor. "I likeing all useful works; but I do not on that account despise the modernones; 'tis only the unfortunate 'Tales of Every-day Life' that I cannotbear--we have enough and more than enough such in reality.""'Tales of Every-day Life?'" said our Bachelor inquiringly."I mean those new fangled novels, twisting and writhing themselves in the dustof commonplace, which also expect to find a ing public.""Oh," exclaimed the clerical gentleman smiling, "there is much wit in them;besides they are at court. The King likes the history of Sir Iffven andSir Gaudian particularly, which treats of King Arthur, and his Knights of theRound Table; he has more than once joked about it with his high vassals.""I have not that novel," said the Councillor; "it must be quite a newone, that Heiberg has published lately.""No," answered the theologian of the time of King Hans: "that book is notwritten by a Heiberg, but was imprinted by Godfrey von Gehmen.""Oh, is that the author's name?" said the Councillor. "It is a very old name,and, as well as I recollect, he was the first printer that appeared inDenmark.""Yes, he is our first printer," replied the clerical gentleman hastily.So far all went on well. Some one of the worthy burghers now spoke of thedful pestilence that had raged in the country a few years back, meaningthat of 1484. The Councillor imagined it was the cholera that was meant, whichpeople made so much fuss about; and the discourse passed off satisfactorilyenough. The war of the buccaneers of 1490 was so recent that it could not failbeing alluded to; the English pirates had, they said, most shamefully takentheir ships while in the roadstead; and the Councillor, before whose eyes theHerostratic* event of 1801 still floated vividly, agreed entirely with theothers in abusing the rascally English. With other topics he was not sofortunate; every moment brought about some new confusion, and threatened tobecome a perfect Babel; for the worthy Bachelor was really too ignorant, andthe simplest observations of the Councillor sounded to him too daring andphantastical. They looked at one another from the crown of the head to thesoles of the feet; and when matters grew to too high a pitch, then theBachelor talked Latin, in the hope of being better understood--but it was ofno use after all.* Herostratus, or Eratostratus--an Ephesian, who wantonly set fire to thefamous temple of Diana, in order to commemorate his name by so uncommon anaction."What's the matter?" asked the Hostess, plucking the Councillor by the sleeve;and now his recollection returned, for in the course of the conversation hehad entirely forgotten all that had preceded it."Merciful God, where am I!" exclaimed he in agony; and while he so thought,all his ideas and feelings of overpowering dizziness, against which hestruggled with the utmost power of desperation, encompassed him with renewedforce. "Let us drink claret and mead, and Bremen beer," shouted one of theguests--"and you shall drink with us!"Two maidens approached. One wore a cap of two staring colors, denoting theclass of persons to which she belonged. They poured out the liquor, and madethe most friendly gesticulations; while a cold perspiration trickled down theback of the poor Councillor."What's to be the end of this! What's to become of me!" groaned he; but he wasforced, in spite of his opposition, to drink with the rest. They took hold ofthe worthy man; who, hearing on every side that he was intoxicated, did not inthe least doubt the truth of this certainly not very polite assertion; but onthe contrary, implored the ladies and gentlemen present to procure him ahackney-coach: they, however, imagined he was talking Russian.Never before, he thought, had he been in such a coarse and ignorant company;one might almost fancy the people had turned heathens again. "It is the mostdful moment of my life: the whole world is leagued against me!" Butsuddenly it occurred to him that he might stoop down under the table, and thencreep unobserved out of the door. He did so; but just as he was going, theothers remarked what he was about; they laid hold of him by the legs; and now,happily for him, off fell his fatal shoes--and with them the charm was at anend.The Councillor saw quite distinctly before him a lantern burning, and behindthis a large handsome house. All seemed to him in proper order as usual; itwas East Street, splendid and elegant as we now see it. He lay with his feettowards a doorway, and exactly opposite sat the watchman asleep."Gracious Heaven!" said he. "Have I lain here in the street and dreamed? Yes;'tis East Street! How splendid and light it is! But really it is terriblewhat an effect that one glass of punch must have had on me!"Two minutes later, he was sitting in a hackney-coach and driving toFrederickshafen. He thought of the distress and agony he had endured, andpraised from the very bottom of his heart the happy reality--our owntime--which, with all its deficiencies, is yet much better than that in which,so much against his inclination, he had lately been.III. The Watchman's Adventure"Why, there is a pair of galoshes, as sure as I'm alive!" said the watchman,awaking from a gentle slumber. "They belong no doubt to the lieutenant wholives over the way. They lie close to the door."The worthy man was inclined to ring and deliver them at the house, for therewas still a light in the window; but he did not like disturbing the otherpeople in their beds, and so very considerately he left the matter alone."Such a pair of shoes must be very warm and comfortable," said he; "theleather is so soft and supple." They fitted his feet as though they had beenmade for him. "'Tis a curious world we live in," continued he, soliloquizing."There is the lieutenant, now, who might go quietly to bed if he chose, whereno doubt he could stretch himself at his ease; but does he do it? No; hesaunters up and down his room, because, probably, he has enjoyed too many ofthe good things of this world at his dinner. That's a happy fellow! He hasneither an infirm mother, nor a whole troop of everlastingly hungry childrento torment him. Every evening he goes to a party, where his nice supper costshim nothing: would to Heaven I could but change with him! How happy should Ibe!"While expressing his wish, the charm of the shoes, which he had put on, beganto work; the watchman entered into the being and nature of the lieutenant. Hestood in the handsomely furnished apartment, and held between his fingers asmall sheet of rose-colored paper, on which some verses were written--writtenindeed by the officer himself; for who has not, at least once in his life,had a lyrical moment? And if one then marks down one's thoughts, poetry isproduced. But here was written: OH, WERE I RICH!"Oh, were I rich! Such was my wish, yea such When hardly three feet high, I longed for much. Oh, were I rich! an officer were I, With sword, and uniform, and plume so high. And the time came, and officer was I!But yet I grew not rich. Alas, poor me!Have pity, Thou, who all man's wants dost see. "I sat one evening sunk in dreams of bliss, A maid of seven years old gave me a kiss, I at that time was rich in poesy And tales of old, though poor as poor could be; But all she asked for was this poesy.Then was I rich, but not in gold, poor me!As Thou dost know, who all men's hearts canst see. "Oh, were I rich! Oft asked I for this boon. The child grew up to womanhood full soon. She is so pretty, clever, and so kindOh, did she know what's hidden in my mind-- A tale of old. Would she to me were kind!But I'm condemned to silence! oh, poor me!As Thou dost know, who all men's hearts canst see. "Oh, were I rich in calm and peace of mind, My grief you then would not here written find! O thou, to whom I do my heart devote, Oh this page of glad days now remote, A dark, dark tale, which I tonight devote!Dark is the future now. Alas, poor me!Have pity Thou, who all men's pains dost see."Such verses as these people write when they are in love! But no man in hissenses ever thinks of printing them. Here one of the sorrows of life, in whichthere is real poetry, gave itself vent; not that barren grief which the poetmay only hint at, but never depict in its detail--misery and want: that animalnecessity, in short, to snatch at least at a fallen leaf of the b-fruittree, if not at the fruit itself. The higher the position in which one findsoneself transplanted, the greater is the suffering. Everyday necessity is thestagnant pool of life--no lovely picture reflects itself therein. Lieutenant,love, and lack of money--that is a symbolic triangle, or much the same as thehalf of the shattered die of Fortune. This the lieutenant felt mostpoignantly, and this was the reason he leant his head against the window, andsighed so deeply."The poor watchman out there in the street is far happier than I. He knows notwhat I term privation. He has a home, a wife, and children, who weep with himover his sorrows, who rejoice with him when he is glad. Oh, far happier wereI, could I exchange with him my being--with his desires and with his hopesperform the weary pilgrimage of life! Oh, he is a hundred times happier thanI!"In the same moment the watchman was again watchman. It was the shoes thatcaused the metamorphosis by means of which, unknown to himself, he took uponhim the thoughts and feelings of the officer; but, as we have just seen, hefelt himself in his new situation much less contented, and now preferred thevery thing which but some minutes before he had rejected. So then the watchmanwas again watchman."That was an unpleasant dream," said he; "but 'twas droll enough altogether. Ifancied that I was the lieutenant over there: and yet the thing was not verymuch to my taste after all. I missed my good old mother and the dear littleones; who almost tear me to pieces for sheer love."He seated himself once more and nodded: the dream continued to haunt him, forhe still had the shoes on his feet. A falling star shone in the darkfirmament."There falls another star," said he: "but what does it matter; there arealways enough left. I should not much mind examining the little glimmeringthings somewhat nearer, especially the moon; for that would not slip so easilythrough a man's fingers. When we die--so at least says the student, for whommy wife does the washing--we shall fly about as light as a feather from onesuch a star to the other. That's, of course, not true: but 'twould be prettyenough if it were so. If I could but once take a leap up there, my body mightstay here on the steps for what I care."Behold--there are certain things in the world to which one ought never to giveutterance except with the greatest caution; but doubly careful must one bewhen we have the Shoes of Fortune on our feet. Now just listen to whathappened to the watchman.As to ourselves, we all know the speed produced by the employment of steam; wehave experienced it either on railroads, or in boats when crossing the sea;but such a flight is like the travelling of a sloth in comparison with thevelocity with which light moves. It flies nineteen million times faster thanthe best race-horse; and yet electricity is quicker still. Death is anelectric shock which our heart receives; the freed soul soars upwards on thewings of electricity. The sun's light wants eight minutes and some seconds toperform a journey of more than twenty million of our Danish* miles; borne byelectricity, the soul wants even some minutes less to accomplish the sameflight. To it the space between the heavenly bodies is not greater than thedistance between the homes of our friends in town is for us, even if they livea short way from each other; such an electric shock in the heart, however,costs us the use of the body here below; unless, like the watchman of EastStreet, we happen to have on the Shoes of Fortune.* A Danish mile is nearly 4 3/4 English.In a few seconds the watchman had done the fifty-two thousand of our miles upto the moon, which, as everyone knows, was formed out of matter much lighterthan our earth; and is, so we should say, as soft as newly-fallen snow. Hefound himself on one of the many circumjacent mountain-ridges with which weare acquainted by means of Dr. Madler's "Map of the Moon." Within, down itsunk perpendicularly into a caldron, about a Danish mile in depth; while belowlay a town, whose appearance we can, in some measure, realize to ourselves bybeating the white of an egg in a glass of water. The matter of which it wasbuilt was just as soft, and formed similar towers, and domes, and pillars,transparent and rocking in the thin air; while above his head our earth wasrolling like a large fiery ball.He perceived immediately a quantity of beings who were certainly what we call"men"; yet they looked different to us. A far more correct imagination thanthat of the pseudo-Herschel* had created them; and if they had been placed inrank and file, and copied by some skilful painter's hand, one would, withoutdoubt, have exclaimed involuntarily, "What a beautiful arabesque!"*This relates to a book published some years ago in Germany, and said to be byHerschel, which contained a description of the moon and its inhabitants,written with such a semblance of truth that many were deceived by theimposture.Probably a translation of the celebrated Moon hoax, written by Richard A.Locke, and originally published in New York.They had a language too; but surely nobody can expect that the soul of thewatchman should understand it. Be that as it may, it did comprehend it; for inour souls there germinate far greater powers than we poor mortals, despite allour cleverness, have any notion of. Does she not show us--she the queen in theland of enchantment--her astounding dramatic talent in all our dreams? Thereevery acquaintance appears and speaks upon the stage, so entirely incharacter, and with the same tone of voice, that none of us, when awake, wereable to imitate it. How well can she recall persons to our mind, of whom wehave not thought for years; when suddenly they step forth "every inch a man,"resembling the real personages, even to the finest features, and become theheroes or heroines of our world of dreams. In reality, such remembrances arerather unpleasant: every sin, every evil thought, may, like a clock with alarmor chimes, be repeated at pleasure; then the question is if we can trustourselves to give an account of every unbecoming word in our heart and on ourlips.The watchman's spirit understood the language of the inhabitants of the moonpretty well. The Selenites* disputed variously about our earth, and expressedtheir doubts if it could be inhabited: the air, they said, must certainly betoo dense to allow any rational dweller in the moon the necessary freerespiration. They considered the moon alone to be inhabited: they imagined itwas the real heart of the universe or planetary system, on which the genuineCosmopolites, or citizens of the world, dwelt. What strange things men--no,what strange things Selenites sometimes take into their heads!* Dwellers in the moon.About politics they had a good deal to say. But little Denmark must take carewhat it is about, and not run counter to the moon; that great realm, thatmight in an ill-humor bestir itself, and dash down a hail-storm in our faces,or force the Baltic to overflow the sides of its gigantic basin.We will, therefore, not listen to what was spoken, and on no condition run inthe possibility of telling tales out of school; but we will rather proceed,like good quiet citizens, to East Street, and observe what happened meanwhileto the body of the watchman.He sat lifeless on the steps: the morning-star,* that is to say, the heavywooden staff, headed with iron spikes, and which had nothing else in commonwith its sparkling brother in the sky, had glided from his hand; while hiseyes were fixed with glassy stare on the moon, looking for the good old fellowof a spirit which still haunted it.*The watchmen in Germany, had formerly, and in some places they still carrywith them, on their rounds at night, a sort of mace or club, known in ancienttimes by the above denomination."What's the hour, watchman?" asked a passer-by. But when the watchman gave noreply, the merry roysterer, who was now returning home from a noisy drinkingbout, took it into his head to try what a tweak of the nose would do, on whichthe supposed sleeper lost his balance, the body lay motionless, stretched outon the pavement: the man was dead. When the patrol came up, all his comrades,who comprehended nothing of the whole affair, were seized with a dfulfright, for dead he was, and he remained so. The proper authorities wereinformed of the circumstance, people talked a good deal about it, and in themorning the body was carried to the hospital.Now that would be a very pretty joke, if the spirit when it came back andlooked for the body in East Street, were not to find one. No doubt it would,in its anxiety, run off to the police, and then to the "Hue and Cry" office,to announce that "the finder will be handsomely rewarded," and at last away tothe hospital; yet we may boldly assert that the soul is shrewdest when itshakes off every fetter, and every sort of leading-string--the body only makesit stupid.The seemingly dead body of the watchman wandered, as we have said, to thehospital, where it was brought into the general viewing-room: and the firstthing that was done here was naturally to pull off the galoshes--when thespirit, that was merely gone out on adventures, must have returned with thequickness of lightning to its earthly tenement. It took its direction towardsthe body in a straight line; and a few seconds after, life began to showitself in the man. He asserted that the preceding night had been the worstthat ever the malice of fate had allotted him; he would not for two silvermarks again go through what he had endured while moon-stricken; but now,however, it was over.The same day he was discharged from the hospital as perfectly cured; but theShoes meanwhile remained behind.IV. A Moment of Head Importance--An Evening's "Dramatic Readings"--A MostStrange JourneyEvery inhabitant of Copenhagen knows, from personal inspection, how theentrance to Frederick's Hospital looks; but as it is possible that others, whoare not Copenhagen people, may also this little work, we will beforehandgive a short description of it.The extensive building is separated from the street by a pretty high railing,the thick iron bars of which are so far apart, that in all seriousness, it issaid, some very thin fellow had of a night occasionally squeezed himselfthrough to go and pay his little visits in the town. The part of the body mostdifficult to manage on such occasions was, no doubt, the head; here, as is sooften the case in the world, long-headed people get through best. So much,then, for the introduction.One of the young men, whose head, in a physical sense only, might be said tobe of the thickest, had the watch that evening. The rain poured down intorrents; yet despite these two obstacles, the young man was obliged to goout, if it were but for a quarter of an hour; and as to telling thedoor-keeper about it, that, he thought, was quite unnecessary, if, with awhole skin, he were able to slip through the railings. There, on the floor laythe galoshes, which the watchman had forgotten; he never dreamed for a momentthat they were those of Fortune; and they promised to do him good service inthe wet; so he put them on. The question now was, if he could squeeze himselfthrough the grating, for he had never tried before. Well, there he stood."Would to Heaven I had got my head through!" said he, involuntarily; andinstantly through it slipped, easily and without pain, notwithstanding it waspretty large and thick. But now the rest of the body was to be got through!"Ah! I am much too stout," groaned he aloud, while fixed as in a vice. "I hadthought the head was the most difficult part of the matter--oh! oh! I reallycannot squeeze myself through!"He now wanted to pull his over-hasty head back again, but he could not. Forhis neck there was room enough, but for nothing more. His first feeling was ofanger; his next that his temper fell to zero. The Shoes of Fortune had placedhim in the most dful situation; and, unfortunately, it never occurred tohim to wish himself free. The pitch-black clouds poured down their contents instill heavier torrents; not a creature was to be seen in the streets. To reachup to the bell was what he did not like; to cry aloud for help would haveavailed him little; besides, how ashamed would he have been to be found caughtin a trap, like an outwitted fox! How was he to twist himself through! He sawclearly that it was his irrevocable destiny to remain a prisoner till dawn,or, perhaps, even late in the morning; then the smith must be fetched to fileaway the bars; but all that would not be done so quickly as he could thinkabout it. The whole Charity School, just opposite, would be in motion; all thenew booths, with their not very courtier-like swarm of seamen, would join themout of curiosity, and would greet him with a wild "hurrah!" while he wasstanding in his pillory: there would be a mob, a hissing, and rejoicing, andjeering, ten times worse than in the rows about the Jews some years ago--"Oh,my blood is mounting to my brain; 'tis enough to drive one mad! I shall gowild! I know not what to do. Oh! were I but loose; my dizziness would thencease; oh, were my head but loose!"You see he ought to have said that sooner; for the moment he expressed thewish his head was free; and cured of all his paroxysms of love, he hastenedoff to his room, where the pains consequent on the fright the Shoes hadprepared for him, did not so soon take their leave.But you must not think that the affair is over now; it grows much worse.The night passed, the next day also; but nobody came to fetch the Shoes.In the evening "Dramatic Readings" were to be given at the little theatre inKing Street. The house was filled to suffocation; and among other pieces to berecited was a new poem by H. C. Andersen, called, My Aunt's Spectacles; thecontents of which were pretty nearly as follows:"A certain person had an aunt, who boasted of particular skill infortune-telling with cards, and who was constantly being stormed by personsthat wanted to have a peep into futurity. But she was full of mystery abouther art, in which a certain pair of magic spectacles did her essentialservice. Her nephew, a merry boy, who was his aunt's darling, begged so longfor these spectacles, that, at last, she lent him the treasure, after havinginformed him, with many exhortations, that in order to execute the interestingtrick, he need only repair to some place where a great many persons wereassembled; and then, from a higher position, whence he could overlook thecrowd, pass the company in review before him through his spectacles.Immediately 'the inner man' of each individual would be displayed before him,like a game of cards, in which he unerringly might what the future ofevery person presented was to be. Well pleased the little magician hastenedaway to prove the powers of the spectacles in the theatre; no place seeming tohim more fitted for such a trial. He begged permission of the worthy audience,and set his spectacles on his nose. A motley phantasmagoria presents itselfbefore him, which he describes in a few satirical touches, yet withoutexpressing his opinion openly: he tells the people enough to set them allthinking and guessing; but in order to hurt nobody, he wraps his wittyoracular judgments in a transparent veil, or rather in a lurid thundercloud,shooting forth bright sparks of wit, that they may fall in the powder-magazineof the expectant audience." Article/200710/18302。

shoulder to shoulder同心协力A:Our son is gone, and my heart is gone too. I don#39;t know how to spend the rest of my years.A:儿子去了,我的心也去了,我不知道怎样度过余生。B:Oh, darling, we must stand shoulder to shoulder and face the music. I know you can pull yourself together.B:亲爱的,我们必须并肩一致地面对生活,我知道你能振作起来。A:I feel life is meaningless without him.A:没有儿子,生活对我来说毫无意义。B:Cheer up. You have not me at least.B:振作点,至少你还有我。 /201611/477013。

I have my own shit to care about!我自己还忙不过来呢!太忙了,忙不了别人的时候用这句~ /201612/473953。

每日一句口语:Whatever you do, remember that you do it for yourself, then you will not complain.无论做什么,记得是为自己而做,那就毫无怨言。【知识点讲解】complain vi.抱怨;控诉;诉说例句:She complained to me about his rudeness.他向我抱怨他的卤莽。 /201611/479808。

昨日,一则中国女孩获得世界最美空的新闻再次刷爆网络,她是深圳航空公司客舱务部乘务员刘苗苗。在今年6月第六届世界空节上,刘苗苗以给人美丽、优雅、大方的印象被评为“世界十佳美丽空第一名”。【新闻】请看《中国日报》的报道Liu Miaomiao, a Shenzhen Airlines#39; stewardess, was named the world#39;s most beautiful stewardess in a competition held in Shenzhen city, South China#39;s Guangdong province, in June 2016.2016年6月在中国广东省深圳市举行的比赛上,深圳航空公司的空刘苗苗被评为“世界最美空”。【讲解】the world#39;s most beautiful stewardess是世界最美空。刘苗苗出生在西安市,6年前决定成为空(stewardess)。三个月的入职培训(orientation training)让刘苗苗对她的职责有了更多的了解。除了咬筷子练笑容(practice smile by biting the chopsticks)这种礼仪培训(etiquette training)以外,更重要的是掌握应急救援(emergency rescue)的注意事项(dos and don#39;ts),例如客舱火灾(cabin fire)处置、陆地撤离、水上撤离(evacuation)等等。每种情况都需熟练掌握,因为一步小错就可能酿成大祸(small mistakes could cause big disasters)。2014年升级成为客舱乘务长(chief attendant)以后,她开始更多地关注日常飞行(daily flying)中的挑战和困难。这些年来让她记忆最深刻的是一次从北京起飞(takeoff)的行程。当天她所在的航班因流量管控(traffic control)在北京机场地面等待了很长时间,尽管刘苗苗与同事尽力去解释,但还是有乘客对着她发脾气(lost their temper),她只有不断地微笑面对(calmed them down with her smile)。刘苗苗表示,因工作原因常常穿职业装(her professional look in uniform)的刘苗苗总会引起不少路人的关注,她总是会想,说不定有很多小孩子看到了她的自信,未来也会选择成为一名空、空少(become flight attendants)。每每这样想,她就会再次打起精神来继续工作,或许这就是这个工作带给她的自豪感(proud)。 /201611/480970。

27When Isaac was old and his eyes were so weak that he could no longer see, he called for Esau his older son and said to him, "My son." "Here I am," he answered. 2Isaac said, "I am now an old man and don't know the day of my death. 3Now then, get your weapons-your quiver and bow-and go out to the open country to hunt some wild game for me. 4Prepare me the kind of tasty food I like and bring it to me to eat, so that I may give you my blessing before I die." 5Now Rebekah was listening as Isaac spoke to his son Esau. When Esau left for the open country to hunt game and bring it back, 6Rebekah said to her son Jacob, "Look, I overheard your father say to your brother Esau, 7'Bring me some game and prepare me some tasty food to eat, so that I may give you my blessing in the presence of the Lord before I die.' 8Now, my son, listen carefully and do what I tell you: 9Go out to the flock and bring me two choice young goats, so I can prepare some tasty food for your father, just the way he likes it. 10Then take it to your father to eat, so that he may give you his blessing before he dies." 11Jacob said to Rebekah his mother, "But my brother Esau is a hairy man, and I'm a man with smooth skin. 12What if my father touches me? I would appear to be tricking him and would bring down a curse on myself rather than a blessing." 13His mother said to him, "My son, let the curse fall on me. Just do what I say; go and get them for me." 14So he went and got them and brought them to his mother, and she prepared some tasty food, just the way his father liked it. 15Then Rebekah took the best clothes of Esau her older son, which she had in the house, and put them on her younger son Jacob. 16She also covered his hands and the smooth part of his neck with the goatskins. 17Then she handed to her son Jacob the tasty food and the b she had made. 18He went to his father and said, "My father." "Yes, my son," he answered. "Who is it?" 19Jacob said to his father, "I am Esau your firstborn. I have done as you told me. Please sit up and eat some of my game so that you may give me your blessing." 20Isaac asked his son, "How did you find it so quickly, my son?" "The Lord your God gave me success," he replied. 21Then Isaac said to Jacob, "Come near so I can touch you, my son, to know whether you really are my son Esau or not." 22Jacob went close to his father Isaac, who touched him and said, "The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau." 23He did not recognize him, for his hands were hairy like those of his brother Esau; so he blessed him. 24"Are you really my son Esau?" he asked. "I am," he replied. 25Then he said, "My son, bring me some of your game to eat, so that I may give you my blessing." Jacob brought it to him and he ate; and he brought some wine and he drank. 26Then his father Isaac said to him, "Come here, my son, and kiss me." 27So he went to him and kissed him. When Isaac caught the smell of his clothes, he blessed him and said, "Ah, the smell of my son is like the smell of a field that the Lord has blessed. 28May God give you of heaven's dew and of earth's richness- an abundance of grain and new wine. 29May nations serve you and peoples bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers, and may the sons of your mother bow down to you. May those who curse you be cursed and those who bless you be blessed." 30After Isaac finished blessing him and Jacob had scarcely left his father's presence, his brother Esau came in from hunting. 31He too prepared some tasty food and brought it to his father. Then he said to him, "My father, sit up and eat some of my game, so that you may give me your blessing." 32His father Isaac asked him, "Who are you?" "I am your son," he answered, "your firstborn, Esau." 33Isaac trembled violently and said, "Who was it, then, that hunted game and brought it to me? I ate it just before you came and I blessed him-and indeed he will be blessed!" 34When Esau heard his father's words, he burst out with a loud and bitter cry and said to his father, "Bless me-me too, my father!" 35But he said, "Your brother came deceitfully and took your blessing." 36Esau said, "Isn't he rightly named Jacob ? He has deceived me these two times: He took my birthright, and now he's taken my blessing!" Then he asked, "Haven't you reserved any blessing for me?" 37Isaac answered Esau, "I have made him lord over you and have made all his relatives his servants, and I have sustained him with grain and new wine. So what can I possibly do for you, my son?" 38Esau said to his father, "Do you have only one blessing, my father? Bless me too, my father!" Then Esau wept aloud. 39His father Isaac answered him, "Your dwelling will be away from the earth's richness, away from the dew of heaven above. 40You will live by the sword and you will serve your brother. But when you grow restless, you will throw his yoke from off your neck." 41Esau held a grudge against Jacob because of the blessing his father had given him. He said to himself, "The days of mourning for my father are near; then I will kill my brother Jacob." 42When Rebekah was told what her older son Esau had said, she sent for her younger son Jacob and said to him, "Your brother Esau is consoling himself with the thought of killing you. 43Now then, my son, do what I say: Flee at once to my brother Laban in Haran. 44Stay with him for a while until your brother's fury subsides. 45When your brother is no longer angry with you and forgets what you did to him, I'll send word for you to come back from there. Why should I lose both of you in one day?" 46Then Rebekah said to Isaac, "I'm disgusted with living because of these Hittite women. If Jacob takes a wife from among the women of this land, from Hittite women like these, my life will not be worth living." Article/200802/26852。