刘博士原著阅读陪伴冰与火系列001天：今天晚上有点儿不对劲

　　

　　【本节导读】

　　美剧中有一些神一般的大片存在，如《复仇者联盟》、《权力游戏》、《阿凡达》《黑客帝国》等。它们所展现的场景、人物和故事让你相信没有任何语言可以展现这种场景和你心潮澎湃的情感。是的，我在看到原著之前也这么以为。

　　直到我看了原著。好的英语魔幻/科幻文学作品更是天神一般的存在。当我读到《冰与火之歌》中Bran的天眼被打开了的时候，我突然间意识到，这本书其实也打开了我心灵的天眼。你不用相信我的。你只要读一下下面这本书的“引子”就好了。

　　这是一本即使你已经完全躺平的时候依旧可以读的书。在这个躺平的年代，也许唯一能够拯救我们心灵的办法就是想办法打开我们的天眼了。重新找到你自己，找到更好的你自己吧。

　　我可以保证一点：你再也不会看到重复的书籍了，世界每一天都是新的，都是你没有见到过的。

　　

　　【刘博士英语突破学习法说明：】

　　在本书原著阅读计划第一年，朋友们可以分别读到刘博士自己的中文译文，刘博士音频朗读和英语原文。如果一些人只想实现阅读突破的话，那么你只需要借助中文的翻译辅助，坚持阅读原文就好。只要坚持一年，顶多两年，你是一定会实现英语阅读突破的。你自己一定能感觉到这种突破的。那时候，告诉我一声就好。从第二年起，我们将进入没有中文的原著阅读。

　　如果你的学习目标是实现听说读全面突破的话，请一定坚持阅读-听读-跟读的学习法。

　　刘博士的音频是帮助大家听读和跟读的，不是考验你听力理解的。所以语速中速偏慢。如果现在使用正常语速音频的话，许多人会疯掉的。我们会在第二年开始尝试采用正常语速。在第三年的时候，你就会发现你能够听懂那些曾让你发疯的英语听力的。如果你一定要听标准英音美音的节目，现在能找到的内容也很多，但请一定找到有音频资料的内容，并坚持阅读-听读-跟读法。

　　刘博士采用自己中文翻译、自己朗读的一个原因在于对原书版权的考虑。此陪伴阅读只为英语爱好者英语学习的目的，因此我会定期删除超过一定期限和长度的内容。刘博士的译文和音频版权为刘博士所有。转载请注明：转自经典之音刘博士。

　　在刘博士译文中，我不翻译人名以及没有特别意义的地名。我们绝大多数人没有意识到用中文翻译外语名称和术语而不附上原文的危害性。我举一个例子。我们大多数人读不懂佛教经典。除了它们现在还是古代文言文版本之外，另一个主要的原因是书中有许多的人名和没有对应中文的梵文（古印度语）名词采用了音译法。而这些音译汉字在以表意为主的中文里就成为了一堆乱码。比如《般若波罗蜜多心经》中的“般若波罗密多”是梵文Prajnaparamita的音译法，这一梵文的英语意思可以翻译成“Perfection of Wisdom”。该书的名字用英语翻译之一是“The Heart of the Perfection of Wisdom Sutra”(完美智慧之心经)。所以如果你没有掌握英语或是梵文的话，你研究佛学就一定要小心了。

　　现在，让我们开始吧。

　　

　　【刘博士译文】

　　第一部：引子：

　　“我们该往回走了，”当树林四周的光线愈发暗淡时，Gared催促道，“那些野蛮人都已经死了。”

　　“难道那些死人吓着你了？”Waymar Royce爵士问，他的脸上浮出一丝笑意来。

　　Gared可没上钩。他已是五十多岁的老人了，他已经见多了那些大人们来了又走的事儿了。“死人就是死人，”他说，“我们可不和死人打交道。”

　　“他们真的死了吗？”Royce轻声问道，“我们有证据吗？”

　　“Will看到他们了，”Gared说，“如果Will他说他们死了的话，这个证据对我来说就足够了。”

　　Will就知道他们迟早会把自己拖入这场争吵。他只是希望被拖进去得越晚越好。“我妈妈说过，死人是不会唱歌的，”他现在插话了。

　　“我的奶妈也说过同样的话，Will，”Royce回答, “千万不要相信在你吃奶的时候女人所说的任何话。即使从死人那里我们也是能了解一些事情的。“他的声音很大，回音在夜幕的树林里回荡着。

　　“我们前面还得骑好长一段路呢，”Gared强调着，“八天，也许要九天。况且现在天就要黑了。”

　　Waymar Royce爵士不感兴趣地瞥了一眼天空。”每天的这个时候，天都要黑的。你是怕黑吗，Gared？”

　　Will看得出来Gared的嘴角现在紧绷着，他那厚厚的黑色披风斗篷几乎无法压抑他眼中的愤怒。Gared在黑夜守护营中已经呆了四十年了，早已从一个孩子成长为一个男人。他可不习惯被人轻视。不过，此时可不止是被人轻视那么简单。在他那受伤的自尊心下面，Will还能感觉到这个老大哥的身体里还有其他一些东西。你都可以感觉得到的，那是一种近乎恐惧的精神紧张。

　　Will也感到了这种不安。他在长墙上已经呆了四年了。当他第一次被派到长墙之外的时候，所有听到过的故事都涌上心头，他吓得的都尿裤子了。后来他自己都觉得这很可笑。现在，他已经是一个有着上百次巡逻经验的老兵了，那一片无边的黑暗荒野，南方人都称之为闹鬼的森林，现在对他来说已经一点不可怕了。

　　直到今天晚上为止。今天晚上有点儿不对劲。这一片黑暗像是一把利刃一般，使他毛骨悚然。他们已经马不停蹄地骑行了九天，先是往北，然后向西北方向，然后再往北。他们离长墙越来越远，使劲地沿着一群野蛮人袭击者的足迹追赶着他们。每一天都感觉比前一天更加糟糕，而今天是最糟糕的一天。一股冷风正从北面吹来，吹得树木沙沙作响，仿佛是一群活物一般。整整一天了，Will都感觉似乎有什么东西正在监视着他，那是一种冷酷而不近人情的东西，而且肯定是不喜欢他的一种东西。看来Gared也感觉到它了。Will现在什么都不想，只想拼命骑马回到长墙那安全之地，不过他可不能把这种感觉告诉他的长官。

　　尤其不能告诉像这个家伙一样的长官。

　　Waymar Royce爵士是一个有着太多继承人的古老家族中最小的一个儿子。他是一个只有十八岁的英俊青年，他的眼睛是灰色的，他的身材优雅而修长，就像一把刀子。这位骑士骑在他那高大的黑色战马背上，比骑在小矮马上的Will 和Gared要高出一大截来。他穿着黑色的皮质靴子，黑色的羊毛长裤，黑色的软鼠皮手套，他的身上，在厚厚的黑色羊毛软皮衫外面，套着一件精致柔软而又闪闪发光的黑色链子甲衣。Waymar爵士成为黑夜守护营的拜把子兄弟还不到半年，不过没人会说他他对自己的这一行没有做好准备的。至少从他衣橱里的衣服来说他是有准备的。

　　他的披风是他锦上添花的装束；那是一件貂皮披风，厚实而黑亮，柔软之极。“我打赌，那些貂一定都是他亲手杀的，肯定是他干的，”Gared在一次喝酒的时候对营地的兄弟们说，“把它们的小脑袋全都给拧断了，多么伟大的勇士啊。”他的兄弟们哈哈大笑。

　　

　　【刘博士音频】

　　（鉴于百家号的音频插播限制，暂不提供相关音频。如果你需要相关文本的音频，请与刘博士联系）。

　　【英语文本】

　　《A Song of Ice and Fire》

　　Prologue

　　“We should start back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them. “The wildlings are dead.”

　　“Do the dead frighten you?” Ser Waymar Royce asked with just the hint of a smile.

　　Gared did not rise to the bait. He was an old man, past fifty, and he had seen the lordlings come and go. “Dead is dead,” he said. “We have no business with the dead.”

　　“Are they dead?” Royce asked softly. “What proof have we?”

　　“Will saw them,” Gared said. “If he says they are dead, that’s proof enough for me.”

　　Will had known they would drag him into the quarrel sooner or later. He wished it had been later rather than sooner. “My mother told me that dead men sing no songs,” he put in.

　　“My wet nurse said the same thing, Will,” Royce replied. “Never believe anything you hear at a woman’s tit. There are things to be learned even from the dead.” His voice echoed, too loud in the twilit forest.

　　“We have a long ride before us,” Gared pointed out. “Eight days, maybe nine. And night is falling.”

　　Ser Waymar Royce glanced at the sky with disinterest. “It does that every day about this time. Are you unmanned by the dark, Gared?”

　　Will could see the tightness around Gared’s mouth, the barely suppressed anger in his eyes under the thick black hood of his cloak. Gared had spent forty years in the Night’s Watch, man and boy, and he was not accustomed to being made light of. Yet it was more than that. Under the wounded pride, Will could sense something else in the older man. You could taste it; a nervous tension that came perilous close to fear.

　　Will shared his unease. He had been four years on the Wall. The first time he had been sent beyond, all the old stories had come rushing back, and his bowels had turned to water. He had laughed about it afterward. He was a veteran of a hundred rangings by now, and the endless dark wilderness that the southron called the haunted forest had no more terrors for him.

　　Until tonight. Something was different tonight. There was an edge to this darkness that made his hackles rise. Nine days they had been riding, north and northwest and then north again, farther and farther from the Wall, hard on the track of a band of wildling raiders. Each day had been worse than the day that had come before it. Today was the worst of all. A cold wind was blowing out of the north, and

　　it made the trees rustle like living things. All day, Will had felt as though something were watching him, something cold and implacable that loved him not. Gared had felt it too. Will wanted nothing so much as to ride hellbent for the safety of the Wall, but that was not a feeling to share with your commander.

　　Especially not a commander like this one.

　　Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife. Mounted on his huge black destrier, the knight towered above Will and Gared on their smaller garrons. He wore black leather boots, black woolen pants, black moleskin gloves, and a fine supple coat of gleaming black ringmail over layers of black wool and boiled leather. Ser Waymar had been a Sworn Brother of the Night’s Watch for less than half a year, but no one could say he had not prepared for his vocation. At least insofar as his wardrobe was concerned.

　　His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin. “Bet he killed them all himself, he did,” Gared told the barracks over wine, “twisted their little heads off, our mighty warrior.” They had all shared the laugh.

　　（To be continued).

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