章节正文
called Tamura-no-Go, of the province of Mutsu. One day he went out hunting,
and could not find any game. But on his way home, at a place called
Akanuma, he perceived a pair of oshidori [1] (mandarin-ducks), swimming
together in a river that he was about to cross. to kill oshidori is not
good; but Sonjo happened to be very hungry, and he shot at the pair. His
arrow pierced the male: the female escaped into the rushes of the further
shore, and disappeared. Sonjo took the dead bird home, and cooked it.
That night he dreamed a dreary dream. It seemed to him that a beautiful
woman came into his room, and stood by his pillow, and began to weep. So
bitterly did she weep that Sonjo felt as if his heart were being torn out
while he listened. And the woman cried to him: "Why,-- oh! why did you kill
him? -- of what wrong was he guilty?... At Akanuma we were so happy
together,-- and you killed him!... What harm did he ever do you? Do you
even know what you have done? -- oh! do you know what a cruel, what a
wicked thing you have done?... Me too you have killed,-- for I will not
live without my husband!... Only to tell you this I came."... Then again
she wept aloud,-- so bitterly that the voice of her crying pierced into the
marrow of the listener's bones; -- and she sobbed out the words of this
poem:--
Hi kurureba
Sasoeshi mono wo --
Akanuma no
Makomo no kure no
Hitori-ne zo uki!
("At the coming of twilight I invited him to return with me --! Now to
sleep alone in the shadow of the rushes of Akanuma -- ah! what misery
unspeakable!") [2]
And after having uttered these verses she exclaimed:-- "Ah, you do not know
-- you cannot know what you have done! But to-morrow, when you go to
Akanuma, you will see,-- you will see..." So saying, and weeping very
piteously, she went away.
When Sonjo awoke in the morning, this dream remained so vivid in his mind
that he was greatly troubled. He remembered the words:-- "But to-morrow,
when you go to Akanuma, you will see,-- you will see." And he resolved to
go there at once, that he might learn whether his dream was anything more
than a dream.
So he went to Akanuma; and there, when he came to the river-bank, he saw
the female oshidori swimming alone. In the same moment the bird perceived
Sonjo; but, instead of trying to escape, she swam straight towards him,
looking at him the while in a strange fixed way. Then, with her beak, she
suddenly tore open her own body, and died before the hunter's eyes...
Sonjo shaved his head, and became a priest.
THE STORY OF O-TEI
A long time ago, in the town of Niigata, in the province of Echizen, there
lived a man called Nagao Chosei.
Nagao was the son of a physician, and was educated for his father's
profession. At an early age he had been betrothed to a girl called O-Tei,
the daughter of one of his father's friends; and both families had agreed
that the wedding should take place as soon as Nagao had finished his
studies. But the health of O-Tei proved to be weak; and in her fifteenth
year she was attacked by a fatal consumption. When she became aware that
she must die, she sent for Nagao to bid him farewell.
As he knelt at her bedside, she said to him:--
"Nagao-Sama, (1) my betrothed, we were promised to each other from the
time of our childhood; and we were to have been married at the end of this
year. But now I am goingto die; -- the gods know what is best for us. If I
were able to live for some years longer, I could only continue to be a
cause of trouble and grief for others. With this frail body, I could not be
a good wife; and therefore even to wish to live, for your sake, would be a
very selfish wish. I am quite resigned to die; and I want you to promise
that you will not grieve... Besides, I want to tell you that I think we
shall meet again."...
"Indeed we shall meet again," Nagao answered earnestly. "And in that Pure
Land (2) there will be no pain of separation."
"Nay, nay!" she responded softly, "I meant not the Pure Land. I believe
that we are destined to meet again in this world,-- although I shall be
buried to-morrow."
Nagao looked at her wonderingly, and saw her smile at his wonder. She
continued, in her gentle, dreamy voice,--
"Yes, I mean in this world,-- in your own present life, Nagao-Sama...
Providing, indeed, that you wish it. Only, for this thing to happen, I must
again be born a girl, and grow up to womanhood. So you would have to wait.
Fifteen -- sixteen years: that is a long time... But, my promised husband,
you are now only nineteen years old."...
Eager to soothe her dying moments, he answered tenderly:--
"To wait for you, my betrothed, were no less a joy than a duty. We are
pledged to each other for the time of seven existences."
"But you doubt?" she questioned, watching his face.
"My dear one," he answered, "I doubt whether I should be able to know you
in another body, under another name,-- unless you can tell me of a sign or
token."
"That I cannot do," she said. "Only the Gods and the Buddhas know how and
where we shall meet. But I am sure -- very, very sure -- that, if you be
not unwilling to receive me, I shall be able to come back to you...
Remember these words of mine."...
She ceased to speak; and her eyes closed. She was dead.
* * *
Nagao had been sincerely attached to O-Tei; and his grief was deep. He had
a mortuary tablet made, inscribed with her zokumyo; [1] and he placed the
tablet in his butsudan, [2] and every day set offerings before it. He
thought a great deal about the strange things that O-Tei had said to him
just before her death; and, in the hope of pleasing her spirit, he wrote a
solemn promise to wed her if she could ever return to him in another body.
This written promise he sealed with his seal, and placed in the butsudan
beside the mortuary tablet of O-Tei.
Nevertheless, as Nagao was an only son, it was necessary that he should
marry. He soon found himself obliged to yield to the wishes of his family,
and to accept a wife of his father's choosing. After his marriage he
continued to set offerings before the tablet of O-Tei; and he never failed
to remember her with affection. But by degrees her image became dim in his
memory,-- like a dream that is hard to recall. And the years went by.
During those years many misfortunes came upon him. He lost his parents by
death,-- then his wife and his only child. So that he found himself alone
in the world. He abandoned his desolate home, and set out upon a long
journey in the hope of forgetting his sorrows.
One day, in the course of his travels, he arrived at Ikao,-- a
mountain-village still famed for its thermal springs, and for the beautiful
scenery of its neighborhood. In the village-inn at which he stopped, a
young girl came to wait upon him; and, at the first sight of her face, he
felt his heart leap as it had never leaped before. So strangely did she
resemble O-Tei that he pinched himself to make sure that he was not
dreaming. As she went and came,-- bringing fire and food, or arranging the
chamber of the guest,-- her every attitude and motion revived in him some
gracious memory of the girl to whom he had been pledged in his youth. He
spoke to her; and she responded in a soft, clear voice of which the
sweetness saddened him with a sadness of other days.
Then, in great wonder, he questioned her, saying:--
"Elder Sister (3), so much do you look like a person whom I knew long ago,
that I was startled when you first entered this room. Pardon me, therefore,
for asking what is your native place, and what is your name?"
Immediately,-- and in the unforgotten voice of the dead,-- she thus made
answer:--
"My name is O-Tei; and you are Nagao Chosei of Echigo, my promised
husband. Seventeen years ago, I died in Niigata: then you made in writing a
promise to marry me if ever I could come back to this world in the body of
a woman; -- and you sealed that written promise with your seal, and put it
in the butsudan, beside the tablet inscribed with my name. And therefore I
came back."...
As she uttered these last words, she fell unconscious.
Nagao married her; and the marriage was a happy one. But at no time
afterwards could she remember what she had told him in answer to his
question at Ikao: neither could she remember anything of her previous
existence. The recollection of the former birth,-- mysteriously kindled in
the moment of that meeting,-- had again become obscured, and so thereafter
remained.
UBAZAKURA
Three hundred years ago, in the village called Asamimura, in the district
called Onsengori, in the province of Iyo, there lived a good man named
Tokubei. This Tokubei was the richest person in the district, and the
muraosa, or headman, of the village. In most matters he was fortunate; but
he reached the age of forty without knowing the happiness of becoming a
father. Therefore he and his wife, in the affliction of their
childlessness, addressed many prayers to the divinity Fudo Myo O, who had a
famous temple, called Saihoji, in Asamimura.
At last their prayers were heard: the wife of Tokubei gave birth to a
daughter. The child was very pretty; and she received the name of Tsuyu. As
the mother's milk was deficient, a milk-nurse, called O-Sode, was hired for
the little one.
O-Tsuyu grew up to be a very beautiful girl; but at the age of fifteen she
fell sick, and the doctors thought that she was going to die. In that time
the nurse O-Sode, who loved O-Tsuyu with a real mother's love, went to the
temple Saihoji, and fervently prayed to Fudo-Sama on behalf of the girl.
Every day, for twenty-one days, she went to the temple and prayed; and at
the end of that time, O-Tsuyu suddenly and completely recovered.
Then there was great rejoicing in the house of Tokubei; and he gave a
feast to all his friends in celebration of the happy event. But on the
night of the feast the nurse O-Sode was suddenly taken ill; and on the
following morning, the doctor, who had been summoned to attend her,
announced that she was dying.
Then the family, in great sorrow, gathered about her bed, to bid her
farewell. But she said to them:--
"It is time that I should tell you something which you do not know. My
prayer has been heard. I besought Fudo-Sama that I might be permitted to
die in the place of O-Tsuyu; and this great favor has been granted me.
Therefore you must not grieve about my death... But I have one request to
make. I promised Fudo-Sama that I would have a cherry-tree planted in the
garden of Saihoji, for a thank-offering and a commemoration. Now I shall
not be able myself to plant the tree there: so I must beg that you will
fulfill that vow for me... Good-bye, dear friends; and remember that I was
happy to die for O-Tsuyu's sake."
After the funeral of O-Sode, a young cherry-tree,-- the finest that could
be found,-- was planted in the garden of Saihoji by the parents of O-Tsuyu.
The tree grew and flourished; and on the sixteenth day of the second month
of the following year,-- the anniversary of O-Sode's death,-- it blossomed
in a wonderful way. So it continued to blossom for two hundred and
fifty-four years,-- always upon the sixteenth day of the second month; --
and its flowers, pink and white, were like the nipples of a woman's
breasts, bedewed with milk. And the people called it Ubazakura, the
Cherry-tree of the Milk-Nurse.
DIPLOMACY
It had been ordered that the execution should take place in the garden of
the yashiki (1). So the man was taken there, and made to kneel down in a
wide sanded space crossed by a line of tobi-ishi, or stepping-stones, such
as you may still see in Japanese landscape-gardens. His arms were bound
behind him. Retainers brought water in buckets, and rice-bags filled with
pebbles; and they packed the rice-bags round the kneeling man,-- so wedging
him in that he could not move. The master came, and observed the
arrangements. He found them satisfactory, and made no remarks.
Suddenly the condemned man cried out to him:--
"Honored Sir, the fault for which I have been doomed I did not wittingly
commit. It was only my very great stupidity which caused the fault. Having
been born stupid, by reason of my Karma, I could not always help making
mistakes. But to kill a man for being stupid is wrong,-- and that wrong
will be repaid. So surely as you kill me, so surely shall I be avenged; --
out of the resentment that you provoke will come the vengeance; and evil
will be rendered for evil."...
If any person be killed while feeling strong resentment, the ghost of that
person will be able to take vengeance upon the killer. This the samurai
knew. He replied very gently,-- almost caressingly:--
"We shall allow you to frighten us as much as you please -- after you are
dead. But it is difficult to believe that you mean what you say. Will you
and could not find any game. But on his way home, at a place called
Akanuma, he perceived a pair of oshidori [1] (mandarin-ducks), swimming
together in a river that he was about to cross. to kill oshidori is not
good; but Sonjo happened to be very hungry, and he shot at the pair. His
arrow pierced the male: the female escaped into the rushes of the further
shore, and disappeared. Sonjo took the dead bird home, and cooked it.
That night he dreamed a dreary dream. It seemed to him that a beautiful
woman came into his room, and stood by his pillow, and began to weep. So
bitterly did she weep that Sonjo felt as if his heart were being torn out
while he listened. And the woman cried to him: "Why,-- oh! why did you kill
him? -- of what wrong was he guilty?... At Akanuma we were so happy
together,-- and you killed him!... What harm did he ever do you? Do you
even know what you have done? -- oh! do you know what a cruel, what a
wicked thing you have done?... Me too you have killed,-- for I will not
live without my husband!... Only to tell you this I came."... Then again
she wept aloud,-- so bitterly that the voice of her crying pierced into the
marrow of the listener's bones; -- and she sobbed out the words of this
poem:--
Hi kurureba
Sasoeshi mono wo --
Akanuma no
Makomo no kure no
Hitori-ne zo uki!
("At the coming of twilight I invited him to return with me --! Now to
sleep alone in the shadow of the rushes of Akanuma -- ah! what misery
unspeakable!") [2]
And after having uttered these verses she exclaimed:-- "Ah, you do not know
-- you cannot know what you have done! But to-morrow, when you go to
Akanuma, you will see,-- you will see..." So saying, and weeping very
piteously, she went away.
When Sonjo awoke in the morning, this dream remained so vivid in his mind
that he was greatly troubled. He remembered the words:-- "But to-morrow,
when you go to Akanuma, you will see,-- you will see." And he resolved to
go there at once, that he might learn whether his dream was anything more
than a dream.
So he went to Akanuma; and there, when he came to the river-bank, he saw
the female oshidori swimming alone. In the same moment the bird perceived
Sonjo; but, instead of trying to escape, she swam straight towards him,
looking at him the while in a strange fixed way. Then, with her beak, she
suddenly tore open her own body, and died before the hunter's eyes...
Sonjo shaved his head, and became a priest.
THE STORY OF O-TEI
A long time ago, in the town of Niigata, in the province of Echizen, there
lived a man called Nagao Chosei.
Nagao was the son of a physician, and was educated for his father's
profession. At an early age he had been betrothed to a girl called O-Tei,
the daughter of one of his father's friends; and both families had agreed
that the wedding should take place as soon as Nagao had finished his
studies. But the health of O-Tei proved to be weak; and in her fifteenth
year she was attacked by a fatal consumption. When she became aware that
she must die, she sent for Nagao to bid him farewell.
As he knelt at her bedside, she said to him:--
"Nagao-Sama, (1) my betrothed, we were promised to each other from the
time of our childhood; and we were to have been married at the end of this
year. But now I am goingto die; -- the gods know what is best for us. If I
were able to live for some years longer, I could only continue to be a
cause of trouble and grief for others. With this frail body, I could not be
a good wife; and therefore even to wish to live, for your sake, would be a
very selfish wish. I am quite resigned to die; and I want you to promise
that you will not grieve... Besides, I want to tell you that I think we
shall meet again."...
"Indeed we shall meet again," Nagao answered earnestly. "And in that Pure
Land (2) there will be no pain of separation."
"Nay, nay!" she responded softly, "I meant not the Pure Land. I believe
that we are destined to meet again in this world,-- although I shall be
buried to-morrow."
Nagao looked at her wonderingly, and saw her smile at his wonder. She
continued, in her gentle, dreamy voice,--
"Yes, I mean in this world,-- in your own present life, Nagao-Sama...
Providing, indeed, that you wish it. Only, for this thing to happen, I must
again be born a girl, and grow up to womanhood. So you would have to wait.
Fifteen -- sixteen years: that is a long time... But, my promised husband,
you are now only nineteen years old."...
Eager to soothe her dying moments, he answered tenderly:--
"To wait for you, my betrothed, were no less a joy than a duty. We are
pledged to each other for the time of seven existences."
"But you doubt?" she questioned, watching his face.
"My dear one," he answered, "I doubt whether I should be able to know you
in another body, under another name,-- unless you can tell me of a sign or
token."
"That I cannot do," she said. "Only the Gods and the Buddhas know how and
where we shall meet. But I am sure -- very, very sure -- that, if you be
not unwilling to receive me, I shall be able to come back to you...
Remember these words of mine."...
She ceased to speak; and her eyes closed. She was dead.
* * *
Nagao had been sincerely attached to O-Tei; and his grief was deep. He had
a mortuary tablet made, inscribed with her zokumyo; [1] and he placed the
tablet in his butsudan, [2] and every day set offerings before it. He
thought a great deal about the strange things that O-Tei had said to him
just before her death; and, in the hope of pleasing her spirit, he wrote a
solemn promise to wed her if she could ever return to him in another body.
This written promise he sealed with his seal, and placed in the butsudan
beside the mortuary tablet of O-Tei.
Nevertheless, as Nagao was an only son, it was necessary that he should
marry. He soon found himself obliged to yield to the wishes of his family,
and to accept a wife of his father's choosing. After his marriage he
continued to set offerings before the tablet of O-Tei; and he never failed
to remember her with affection. But by degrees her image became dim in his
memory,-- like a dream that is hard to recall. And the years went by.
During those years many misfortunes came upon him. He lost his parents by
death,-- then his wife and his only child. So that he found himself alone
in the world. He abandoned his desolate home, and set out upon a long
journey in the hope of forgetting his sorrows.
One day, in the course of his travels, he arrived at Ikao,-- a
mountain-village still famed for its thermal springs, and for the beautiful
scenery of its neighborhood. In the village-inn at which he stopped, a
young girl came to wait upon him; and, at the first sight of her face, he
felt his heart leap as it had never leaped before. So strangely did she
resemble O-Tei that he pinched himself to make sure that he was not
dreaming. As she went and came,-- bringing fire and food, or arranging the
chamber of the guest,-- her every attitude and motion revived in him some
gracious memory of the girl to whom he had been pledged in his youth. He
spoke to her; and she responded in a soft, clear voice of which the
sweetness saddened him with a sadness of other days.
Then, in great wonder, he questioned her, saying:--
"Elder Sister (3), so much do you look like a person whom I knew long ago,
that I was startled when you first entered this room. Pardon me, therefore,
for asking what is your native place, and what is your name?"
Immediately,-- and in the unforgotten voice of the dead,-- she thus made
answer:--
"My name is O-Tei; and you are Nagao Chosei of Echigo, my promised
husband. Seventeen years ago, I died in Niigata: then you made in writing a
promise to marry me if ever I could come back to this world in the body of
a woman; -- and you sealed that written promise with your seal, and put it
in the butsudan, beside the tablet inscribed with my name. And therefore I
came back."...
As she uttered these last words, she fell unconscious.
Nagao married her; and the marriage was a happy one. But at no time
afterwards could she remember what she had told him in answer to his
question at Ikao: neither could she remember anything of her previous
existence. The recollection of the former birth,-- mysteriously kindled in
the moment of that meeting,-- had again become obscured, and so thereafter
remained.
UBAZAKURA
Three hundred years ago, in the village called Asamimura, in the district
called Onsengori, in the province of Iyo, there lived a good man named
Tokubei. This Tokubei was the richest person in the district, and the
muraosa, or headman, of the village. In most matters he was fortunate; but
he reached the age of forty without knowing the happiness of becoming a
father. Therefore he and his wife, in the affliction of their
childlessness, addressed many prayers to the divinity Fudo Myo O, who had a
famous temple, called Saihoji, in Asamimura.
At last their prayers were heard: the wife of Tokubei gave birth to a
daughter. The child was very pretty; and she received the name of Tsuyu. As
the mother's milk was deficient, a milk-nurse, called O-Sode, was hired for
the little one.
O-Tsuyu grew up to be a very beautiful girl; but at the age of fifteen she
fell sick, and the doctors thought that she was going to die. In that time
the nurse O-Sode, who loved O-Tsuyu with a real mother's love, went to the
temple Saihoji, and fervently prayed to Fudo-Sama on behalf of the girl.
Every day, for twenty-one days, she went to the temple and prayed; and at
the end of that time, O-Tsuyu suddenly and completely recovered.
Then there was great rejoicing in the house of Tokubei; and he gave a
feast to all his friends in celebration of the happy event. But on the
night of the feast the nurse O-Sode was suddenly taken ill; and on the
following morning, the doctor, who had been summoned to attend her,
announced that she was dying.
Then the family, in great sorrow, gathered about her bed, to bid her
farewell. But she said to them:--
"It is time that I should tell you something which you do not know. My
prayer has been heard. I besought Fudo-Sama that I might be permitted to
die in the place of O-Tsuyu; and this great favor has been granted me.
Therefore you must not grieve about my death... But I have one request to
make. I promised Fudo-Sama that I would have a cherry-tree planted in the
garden of Saihoji, for a thank-offering and a commemoration. Now I shall
not be able myself to plant the tree there: so I must beg that you will
fulfill that vow for me... Good-bye, dear friends; and remember that I was
happy to die for O-Tsuyu's sake."
After the funeral of O-Sode, a young cherry-tree,-- the finest that could
be found,-- was planted in the garden of Saihoji by the parents of O-Tsuyu.
The tree grew and flourished; and on the sixteenth day of the second month
of the following year,-- the anniversary of O-Sode's death,-- it blossomed
in a wonderful way. So it continued to blossom for two hundred and
fifty-four years,-- always upon the sixteenth day of the second month; --
and its flowers, pink and white, were like the nipples of a woman's
breasts, bedewed with milk. And the people called it Ubazakura, the
Cherry-tree of the Milk-Nurse.
DIPLOMACY
It had been ordered that the execution should take place in the garden of
the yashiki (1). So the man was taken there, and made to kneel down in a
wide sanded space crossed by a line of tobi-ishi, or stepping-stones, such
as you may still see in Japanese landscape-gardens. His arms were bound
behind him. Retainers brought water in buckets, and rice-bags filled with
pebbles; and they packed the rice-bags round the kneeling man,-- so wedging
him in that he could not move. The master came, and observed the
arrangements. He found them satisfactory, and made no remarks.
Suddenly the condemned man cried out to him:--
"Honored Sir, the fault for which I have been doomed I did not wittingly
commit. It was only my very great stupidity which caused the fault. Having
been born stupid, by reason of my Karma, I could not always help making
mistakes. But to kill a man for being stupid is wrong,-- and that wrong
will be repaid. So surely as you kill me, so surely shall I be avenged; --
out of the resentment that you provoke will come the vengeance; and evil
will be rendered for evil."...
If any person be killed while feeling strong resentment, the ghost of that
person will be able to take vengeance upon the killer. This the samurai
knew. He replied very gently,-- almost caressingly:--
"We shall allow you to frighten us as much as you please -- after you are
dead. But it is difficult to believe that you mean what you say. Will you
- province [´prɔvins]
n.省；领域；范围 (初中英语单词) - female [´fi:meil] a.女(性)的 n.女人 (初中英语单词)
- guilty [´gilti] a.有罪的；心虚的 (初中英语单词)
- bitterly [´bitəli] ad.悲痛地；憎恨地 (初中英语单词)
- twilight [´twailait] n.黎明；黄昏 (初中英语单词)
- physician [fi´ziʃən] n.(内科)医生 (初中英语单词)
- wedding [´wediŋ] n.婚礼，结婚 (初中英语单词)
- childhood [´tʃaildhud] n.幼年(时代)；早期 (初中英语单词)
- therefore [´ðeəfɔ:] ad.&conj.因此；所以 (初中英语单词)
- selfish [´selfiʃ] a.自私的，利己的 (初中英语单词)
- grieve [gri:v] v.&n.(使)悲痛；哀悼 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- affection [ə´fekʃən] n.友爱；慈爱 (初中英语单词)
- neighborhood [´neibəhud] n.邻居；邻近；附近 (初中英语单词)
- strangely [´streindʒli] ad.奇怪地；陌生地 (初中英语单词)
- pardon [´pɑ:dən] n.&vt.原谅；饶恕；赦免 (初中英语单词)
- writing [´raitiŋ] n.书写；写作；书法 (初中英语单词)
- mysteriously [mis´tiəriəsli] ad.神秘地；故弄玄虚地 (初中英语单词)
- fortunate [´fɔ:tʃənət] a.幸运的，侥幸的 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- temple [´tempəl] n.庙宇；寺院；太阳穴 (初中英语单词)
- funeral [´fju:nərəl] n.葬礼，丧葬；困难 (初中英语单词)
- blossom [´blɔsəm] n.花；开花期 vi.开花 (初中英语单词)
- satisfactory [,sætis´fæktəri] a.令人满意的 (初中英语单词)
- stupid [´stju:pid] a.愚蠢的；糊涂的 (初中英语单词)
- frighten [´fraitn] vt.吓唬，使惊惧 (初中英语单词)
- dreary [´driəri] a.阴郁的；枯燥无味的 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- consumption [kən´sʌmpʃən] n.消耗；结核病 (高中英语单词)
- earnestly [´ə:nistli] ad.认真地；急切地 (高中英语单词)
- soothe [su:ð] vt.安慰；镇定；减轻 (高中英语单词)
- sincerely [sin´siəli] ad.真诚地；诚恳地 (高中英语单词)
- tablet [´tæblit] n.碑；牌；匾额 (高中英语单词)
- pleasing [´pli:ziŋ] a.使人愉快的；合意的 (高中英语单词)
- desolate [´desəleit] a.荒凉的；孤独的 (高中英语单词)
- motion [´məuʃən] n.手势 vt.打手势 (高中英语单词)
- sadness [´sædnis] n.悲哀；悲痛；凄惨 (高中英语单词)
- recollection [,rekə´lekʃən] n.回忆；追想；记忆力 (高中英语单词)
- behalf [bi´hɑ:f] n.利益 (高中英语单词)
- rejoicing [ri´dʒɔisiŋ] n.高兴；欢呼 (高中英语单词)
- celebration [,seli´breiʃən] n.庆祝(会)；庆典 (高中英语单词)
- execution [,eksi´kju:ʃən] n.执行；演奏；表演 (高中英语单词)
- resentment [ri´zentmənt] n.不满；怨恨；忿恨 (高中英语单词)
- provoke [prə´vəuk] vt.挑拨；煽动；引起 (高中英语单词)
- vengeance [´vendʒəns] n.报复，复仇 (高中英语单词)
- resolved [ri´zɔlvd] a.决心的；坚定的 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- bedside [´bedsaid] n.床边 a.护理的 (英语四级单词)
- unwilling [ʌn´wiliŋ] a.不愿意的；不情愿的 (英语四级单词)
- divinity [di´viniti] n.神性，神；神学 (英语四级单词)
- besought [bi´sɔ:t] beseech过去式(分词) (英语四级单词)
- anniversary [,æni´və:səri] n.周年纪念(日) (英语四级单词)
- weeping [´wi:piŋ] a.&n.哭泣(的) (英语六级单词)
- dreamy [´dri:mi] a.心不在焉的；朦胧的 (英语六级单词)
- abandoned [ə´bændənd] a.被抛弃的；无约束的 (英语六级单词)
- affliction [ə´flikʃən] n.痛苦，苦恼；折磨 (英语六级单词)
- fervently [´fə:vəntli] ad.火热地，热烈地 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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