Unit 7 Literature (2)Lesson 19(E—C)East of Eden(1)By John SteinbeckThe Salinas Valley is in Northern California. It is a long narrow swale betwwen two ranges of mountains, and the Salinas River winds and twists up the center until it falls at last into Monterey Bay.I remember my childhood names for grasses and secret flowers. I remember where a toad may live and what time the irds awaken in the summer—and what trees and seasons smelled like—how people looked and walked and smelled even. The memory of odors is very rich.I remember that the Gabilan Mountains to the east of the valley were light gay mountains full of sun and loveliness and a kind of invitation, so that you wanted to climb into their warm foothills almost as you want to climb into the lap of a beloved mother. They were beckoning mountains with a brown grass love. The Santa Lucias stood up against the sky to the west and kept the valley from the open sea, and they were dark and brooding—unfriendly and dangerous. I always found in myself a dread of west and a love of east. Where I ever got such an idea I cannot say, unless it could be that the morning came over the peaks of the Gabilans and the night drifted back from the ridges of the Santa Lucias. It may be that the birth and death of the day had some part in my feeling about the two ranges of mountains.From both sides of the valley little streams slpipped out of the hill canyons and fell into the bed of the Salinas River. In the winte of wet years the streams ran full-freshet, and they swelled the river until sometimes it raged and boiled, bank full, and then it was a destroyer. The river tore the edges of the farm lands and washed whole acres down; it toppled barns and houses into itself, to go floating and bobbing away. It trapped cows and pigs and sheep and drowned them in its muddy brown water and carried them to the sea. Then when the late spring came, the river drew in from its edges and the sand banks appeared. And in the summer the river didn’t run at all above ground. Some pools would be left in the deep swirl places under a high bank. The tules and grasses grew back, and willows straightened up with the flood debris in their upper branches. The Salinas was only a part-time river. The summer sun drove it underground. It was not a fine river at all, but it was the only one we had and so we boasted about it—how dangerous it was in a wet winter and how dry it was in a dry summer. You can boast about anything if it’s all you have. Maybe the less you have, the more you are required to boast.(from John Steinbeck, East of Eden, Chapter1)译文：萨利内斯河谷位于加利福民亚州北部。
那是两条山脉之间的一片狭长的洼地，萨利内斯河蜿蜒曲折从中间流过，最后注入蒙特雷海湾。
我记得儿时给各种小草和隐蔽的小花取的名字。
我记得蛤蟆喜欢在什么地方栖身，鸟雀夏天早晨什么时候醒来——我还记得树木和不同季节特有的气息——记得人们的容貌、走路的姿势、甚至身上的气味。
关于气味的记忆实在太多啦。
我记得河谷东面的加毕仑山脉总是阳光璀璨、明媚可爱，仿佛向你殷勤邀请，你不禁想爬上暖洋洋的山麓小丘，正像爬到亲爱的母亲怀里那样。
棕色的草坡给你爱抚，向你召唤。
西面的圣卢西亚斯山脉高耸入云，黑压压地挡在河谷和大海之间，显得不友好而危险。
我发现自己一直对西方怀有畏惧，而对东方怀有喜爱。
我说不出这种想法的根子在什么地方，也许是因为黎明从加比仑山顶升起，夜晚从圣卢西亚斯山脊压下来。
每一天的诞生和消亡也许使我对两条山脉产生了不同的感情。
洼地两面的小峡谷都有涧水流出，汇入萨利纳斯河床。
在多雨的年份，冬天水流充沛，引起河面暴涨，有时候汹涌翻腾，泛滥两岸，就成了祸害。
河水冲坏农田边级，毁掉大片大片的土地，使牲口棚和房屋坍塌，卷入洪流，漂浮而去。
牛、猪、羊走投无路，在黄褐色的泥水里眼睁睁地淹死，给带到海里。
春末时分，河面变窄，露出了沙岸。
到了夏天，地上河水完全断流。
只有原先岸高漩涡深的地方才留下几个水塘。
芦苇和茅草重新生长，柳树直起躯干，上部的枝桠还挂着洪水留下的枯枝败草。
它根本不是条了不起的河流，但是我们只有这么一条，因此便为它吹嘘。
如果你别无他有，你可以为任何东西吹嘘。
也许你有的东西越少，你就越要吹吹牛皮。
（选自王仲年译《伊甸之东》）Lesson 20 (E—C)The Sund of Music(Ecerpt 1)By Maria Augusta TrappSuddenly I heard quick footsteps behind me, and a full, resonant voice exchaimed: “I see you are looking at my flag.”There he was—the Captain!The tall, well-dressed gentleman standing before me was certainly a far cay from the old sea wolf of my imagination. His air of complete self-assurance and somewhat lordly bearing would have frightened me, had it not been for his warm and hearty hadndshake.“I am so glad you have come, Fraulein…”I filled in, “maria.”He took me in from topp to toe with a quick glance. All of a sudden I became very conscious of my funny dress, and sure enough, there I was diving under my helmet again. But the Captain’s eyes rested on my shoes.We were still standing in the hall when he said: “I want you to meet the children first of all.”Out of his pocket he took an odd-shaped, ornamented brass whistle, on which he piped a series of complicated trills.I must have looked highly amazed, because he said, a little apologeticall: “You see it taks so long to call so many children by name, that I’ve given them each a different whistle.”Of course, I now expected to hear a loud banging of doors and a chorus of giggles and shouts, the scampering feet of youngsters jumping down the steps and sliding down the banister. In stead, led by a sober-faced young girl in her arly teens, an almost solemn little procession descended step by step in well-mannered silence—four girls and two boys, all dressed in sailor suits. For and instant we stared at each other in utter amazement. I had never seen such perfect little ladies and gentlemen, and they had never seen such a helmet.“Here is our new teacher, Fraulein Maria.”“Gruss Gott, Fraulein Maria,” six voices echoed in unison. Six perfect bows followed.That wasn’t real. That couldn’t be true. I had to shove back that ridiculosu hat again. This push, bowerer, was the last. Down came the ugly brown thing, rolled on the shiny parquet floor,and landed at the tiny feet of a very pretty, plump little girl of about five. A delingted giggle cut through the severe silence. The ice was broken. We all laughed.(from Maria Augusta Trapp, The Sound of Music)参考译文：音乐之声（摘录1）玛丽亚·奥古斯塔·特拉普我突然听见身后有急促的脚步声，接着就听见一个非常宏亮的声音说道：“看来您是在看我的旗子哪！”这个人，就是舰长。