章节正文
and singing as it swung, and a sheep of solemn face--gaunt and grim
and ancient--was standing and palpitating before her. Bees were humming,
grasshoppers were buzzing, the light wind was whispering, and cattle were
lowing in the distance. The air of that sweet spot in that sweet hour was
musical with every sweet sound of the earth and sky, and fragrant
with all the wild odours of the wood.
"My darling," cried Israel in the first outburst of his relief,
and then he paused and looked at her again.
The wet eyes were open, and they appeared to see, so radiant was the light
that shone in them. A tender smile played about her mouth;
her head was held forward; her nostrils quivered; and her cheeks
were flushed. She had pushed her hat back from her head,
and her yellow hair had fallen over her neck and breast.
One of her hands covered one ear, and the other strayed among the plants
that grew on the bank beside her. She seemed to be listening intently,
eagerly, rapturously. A rare and radiant joy, a pure and tender delight,
appeared to gush out of her beautiful face. It was almost as though
she believed that everything she heard with the great new gift
which God had given her was speaking to her, and bidding her welcome
and offering her love; as if the garrulous old olive over her head were
stretching down his arms to sport with her hair, and pattering;
"Kiss me, little one! kiss me, sweet one! kiss me! kiss me!"--as if
the rippling river at her feet were laughing and crying,
"Catch me, naked feet! catch me, catch me!" as if the thrush
on the bough were singing, "Where from, sunny locks? where from?
where from?--as if the young squirrel were chirping, "I'm not afraid,
not afraid, not afraid!" and as if the grey old sheep were
breathing slowly, "Pat me, little maiden! you may, you may!"
"God bless her beautiful face!" cried Israel. "She listens
with every feature and every line of it."
It was the awakening of her soul to the soul of music, and
from that day forward she took pleasure in all sweet and gentle sounds
whatsoever--in the voices of children at play--in the bleat
of the goat--in the footsteps of them she loved--in the hiss and whirr
of her mother's old spinning-wheel, which now she learned to work--and
in Ali's harp, when he played it in the patio in the cool of the evening.
But even as no eye can see how the seed which has been sown
in the ground first dies and then springs into life, so no tongue can tell
what change was wrought in the pure soul of Naomi when, after her baptism
of sound, the sweet voices of earth first entered it. Neither she herself
nor any one else ever fully realised what that change was,
for it was a beautiful and holy mystery. It was also a great joy,
and she seemed to give herself up to it. No music ever escaped her,
and of all human music she took most pleasure in the singing
of love songs. These she listened to with a simple and rapt delight;
their joy seemed to answer to her joy, and the joyousness of a song
of love seemed to gather in the air wheresoever she went.
There were few of the kind she ever heard, and few of that few were
beautiful, and none were beautifully sung. Fatimah's homely ditties
were all she knew, the same that had been crooned to her
a thousand times when she had not heard. Most of these were songs
of the desert and the caravan, telling of musk and ambergris,
and odorous locks and dancing cypress, and liquid ruby,
and lips like wine; and some were warm tales which the good soul herself
hardly understood, of enchanting beauties whose silence was the door
of consent, and of wanton nymphs whose love tore the veil
of their chastity.
But one of them was a song of pure and true passion that seemed to be
the yearning cry of a hungering, unfilled, unsatisfied heart to call down
love out of the skies, or else be carried up to it. This had been
a favourite song of Naomi's mother, and it was from Ruth
that Fatimah had learned it in those anxious watches of the early
uncertain days when she sang it over the cradle to her babe
that was deaf after all and did not hear. Naomi knew nothing of this,
but she heard her mother's song at last, though silent were the lips
that first sang it, and it was her chief and dear delight.
O, where is Love?
Where, where is Love?
Is it of heavenly birth?
Is it a thing of earth?
Where, where is Love?
In her crazy, creechy voice the black woman would sing the song,
when Israel was out of hearing; and the joy Naomi found in it,
and the simple silent arts she used, being mute and blind,
to show her pleasure while it lasted, and to ask for it again
when it was done, were very sweet and touching.
And so it came about at last, that even as the human mother loves
that child most among many children that most is helpless,
so the earth-mother of Naomi made her ears more keen because her eyes
were blind. Thus she seemed to hear many things that are unheard
by the rest of the human family. It is only a dim echo of the outer world
that the ears of men are allowed to hear, just as it is only a dim shadow
of the outer world that the eyes of men are allowed to see;
but the ears of Naomi seemed to hear all.
There is one hearing of men, and another hearing of the beasts,
and a third of the birds, and one hearing differs from another
in keenness even as one sight differs from another in strength.
And all the earth is full of voices, and everything that moves
upon the face of it has its sound; but the bird hears that
which is unheard of the beast, and the beast hears that which is unheard
of men. But Naomi appeared to hear all that is heard of each.
Listening hour after hour, listening always, listening only,
with nothing that she could do but listen, nothing moved on the ground
but she dropped her face, and nothing flew in the sky
but she lifted her eyes. And whereas before the coming
of her great gift her face had been all feeling, and she seemed to feel
the sunset, and to feel the sky, and to feel the thunder and the light,
now her face was all hearing, and her whole body seemed to hear,
for she was like a living soul floating always in a sea of sound.
Thus, day after day, she was busy in her silence and in her darkness,
building up notions of man and of the world by the new gift with
which God had gifted her; but what strange thing the earth was
to her then, what the sun was with its warmth, and what the sea was
with its roar, and what the face of man was, and the eyes of woman,
none could know, and neither could she tell, for her soul
was not linked to other souls--soul to soul, in the chains of speech.
And for all that she could not answer; yet Israel did not forget that,
beside the sounds of earth and sky, Naomi was hearing words,
and that words had wings, and were alive, and, for good or ill,
made their mark on the soul that listened to them. So he continued
to read to her out of the Book of the Law, day after day at sunset,
according to his wont and custom. And when an evil spirit seemed
to make a mock at him, and to say, "Fool! she hears,
but does she understand?" he remembered how he had read to her
in the days of her deafness, and he said to himself,
"Shall I have less faith now that she can hear?"
But, though he turned his back on the temptation to let go of Naomi's soul
at last, yet sometimes his heart misgave him; for when he spoke to her
it seemed to him that he was like a man that shouts into a cavern
and gets back no answer but the sound of his own voice. If he told her
of the sky, that it was broad as the ocean, what could she see
of the great deeps to measure them? And if he told her of the sea,
that it was green as the fields, what could she see of the grass
to know its colour? And sometimes as he spoke to her it smote him suddenly
that the words themselves which he used to speak with were no more
to Naomi than the notes which Ali struck from his dead harp,
or the bleat of the goat at her feet.
Nevertheless, his faith was great, and he said in his heart,
"Let the Lord find His own way to her spirit." So he continued to speak
with her as often as he was near her, telling her of the little things
that concerned their household, as well as of the greater things
it was good for her soul to know.
It was a touching sight--the lonely man, the outcast among his people,
talking with his daughter though she was blind and dumb,
telling her of God, of heaven, of death and resurrection,
strong in his faith that his words would not fail, but that the casket
of her soul would be opened to receive them, and that they would lie
within until the great day of judgment, when the Lord Himself would call
for them.
Did Naomi hear his words to understand them, or did they fall dead
on her ear like birds on a dead sea? In her darkness and her silence
was she putting them together, comparing them, interpreting them,
pondering them, imitating them, gathering food for her mind from them,
and solace for her spirit? Israel did not know; and, watch her face
as he would, he could never learn. Hope! Faith! Trust!
What else was left to him? He clung to all three, he grappled them to him;
they were his sheet-anchor and his pole-star. But one day
they seemed to be his calenture also--the false picture of green fields
and sweet female faces that rises before the eye of the sailor becalmed
at sea.
It was some three weeks after his return from his journey,
and the fierce blaze of the sun continued. The storm that had broken
over the town had left no results of coolness or moisture,
for the ground had been baked hard, and the rain had been too short
and swift to penetrate it. And what the withering heat had spared
of green leaf and shrub a deadlier blight had swept away.
The locusts had lately come up from the south and the east,
in numbers exceedingimagination, millions on millions,
making the air dark as they passed and obscuring the blue sky.
They had swept the country of its verdure, and left a trail
of desolation behind them. The grass was gone, the bark
of the olives and almonds was stripped away, and the bare trees
had the look of winter.
The first to feel the plague had been the cattle and beasts of burden.
Without food to eat or water to drink they had died in hundreds.
A Mukabar, a cemetery, was made for the animals outside the walls
of the town. It was a charnel yard on the hill-side, near to one
of the town's six gates. The dead creatures were not buried there,
but merely cast on the bare ground to rot and to bleach in the sun
and the heated wind. It was a horrible place.
The skinny dogs of the town soon found it. And after these scavengers
of the East had torn the putrefying flesh and gnawed the multitude
of bones, they prowled around the country, with tongues lolling out,
in search of water. By this time there was none that they could come
at nearer than the sea, and that was salt. Nevertheless, they lapped it,
so burning was their thirst, and went mad, and came back to the town.
Then the people hunted them and killed them.
Now, it chanced that a mad dog from the Mukabar was being hunted to death
on a day when Naomi, who had become accustomed to the tumult
of the streets, had first ventured out in them alone, save for her goat,
that went before her. The goat was grown old, but it was still
her constantcompanion and also it was now her guide and guardian,
for the little dumb creature seemed to know that she was frail
and helpless. And so it was that she was crossing the Sok el Foki,
a market of the town, and hearkening only to the patter of the feet
of the goat going in front, when suddenly she heard a hundred footsteps
hurrying towards her, with shouts and curses that were loud and deep.
She stood in fear on the spot where she was, and no eyes had she to see
what happened next, and she had none save the goat to tell her.
But out of one of the dark arcades on the left, leading downward
from the hill, the mad dog came running, before a multitude
of men and boys. And flying in its despair, it bit out wildly
at whatever lay in its way, and Naomi, in her blindness, stood straight
in front of it. Then she must have fallen before it, but instantly
the goat flung itself across the dog's open jaws, and butted
at its foaming teeth, and sent up shrill cries of terror.
The dog stopped a moment, for such love was human, and it seemed as if
the madness of the monstershrank before it. But the people came down
with their wild shouts and curses, and the dog sprang upon the goat
and felled it, and fled away. The people followed it, and then Naomi
was alone in the market-place, and the goat lay at her feet.
and ancient--was standing and palpitating before her. Bees were humming,
grasshoppers were buzzing, the light wind was whispering, and cattle were
lowing in the distance. The air of that sweet spot in that sweet hour was
musical with every sweet sound of the earth and sky, and fragrant
with all the wild odours of the wood.
"My darling," cried Israel in the first outburst of his relief,
and then he paused and looked at her again.
The wet eyes were open, and they appeared to see, so radiant was the light
that shone in them. A tender smile played about her mouth;
her head was held forward; her nostrils quivered; and her cheeks
were flushed. She had pushed her hat back from her head,
and her yellow hair had fallen over her neck and breast.
One of her hands covered one ear, and the other strayed among the plants
that grew on the bank beside her. She seemed to be listening intently,
eagerly, rapturously. A rare and radiant joy, a pure and tender delight,
appeared to gush out of her beautiful face. It was almost as though
she believed that everything she heard with the great new gift
which God had given her was speaking to her, and bidding her welcome
and offering her love; as if the garrulous old olive over her head were
stretching down his arms to sport with her hair, and pattering;
"Kiss me, little one! kiss me, sweet one! kiss me! kiss me!"--as if
the rippling river at her feet were laughing and crying,
"Catch me, naked feet! catch me, catch me!" as if the thrush
on the bough were singing, "Where from, sunny locks? where from?
where from?--as if the young squirrel were chirping, "I'm not afraid,
not afraid, not afraid!" and as if the grey old sheep were
breathing slowly, "Pat me, little maiden! you may, you may!"
"God bless her beautiful face!" cried Israel. "She listens
with every feature and every line of it."
It was the awakening of her soul to the soul of music, and
from that day forward she took pleasure in all sweet and gentle sounds
whatsoever--in the voices of children at play--in the bleat
of the goat--in the footsteps of them she loved--in the hiss and whirr
of her mother's old spinning-wheel, which now she learned to work--and
in Ali's harp, when he played it in the patio in the cool of the evening.
But even as no eye can see how the seed which has been sown
in the ground first dies and then springs into life, so no tongue can tell
what change was wrought in the pure soul of Naomi when, after her baptism
of sound, the sweet voices of earth first entered it. Neither she herself
nor any one else ever fully realised what that change was,
for it was a beautiful and holy mystery. It was also a great joy,
and she seemed to give herself up to it. No music ever escaped her,
and of all human music she took most pleasure in the singing
of love songs. These she listened to with a simple and rapt delight;
their joy seemed to answer to her joy, and the joyousness of a song
of love seemed to gather in the air wheresoever she went.
There were few of the kind she ever heard, and few of that few were
beautiful, and none were beautifully sung. Fatimah's homely ditties
were all she knew, the same that had been crooned to her
a thousand times when she had not heard. Most of these were songs
of the desert and the caravan, telling of musk and ambergris,
and odorous locks and dancing cypress, and liquid ruby,
and lips like wine; and some were warm tales which the good soul herself
hardly understood, of enchanting beauties whose silence was the door
of consent, and of wanton nymphs whose love tore the veil
of their chastity.
But one of them was a song of pure and true passion that seemed to be
the yearning cry of a hungering, unfilled, unsatisfied heart to call down
love out of the skies, or else be carried up to it. This had been
a favourite song of Naomi's mother, and it was from Ruth
that Fatimah had learned it in those anxious watches of the early
uncertain days when she sang it over the cradle to her babe
that was deaf after all and did not hear. Naomi knew nothing of this,
but she heard her mother's song at last, though silent were the lips
that first sang it, and it was her chief and dear delight.
O, where is Love?
Where, where is Love?
Is it of heavenly birth?
Is it a thing of earth?
Where, where is Love?
In her crazy, creechy voice the black woman would sing the song,
when Israel was out of hearing; and the joy Naomi found in it,
and the simple silent arts she used, being mute and blind,
to show her pleasure while it lasted, and to ask for it again
when it was done, were very sweet and touching.
And so it came about at last, that even as the human mother loves
that child most among many children that most is helpless,
so the earth-mother of Naomi made her ears more keen because her eyes
were blind. Thus she seemed to hear many things that are unheard
by the rest of the human family. It is only a dim echo of the outer world
that the ears of men are allowed to hear, just as it is only a dim shadow
of the outer world that the eyes of men are allowed to see;
but the ears of Naomi seemed to hear all.
There is one hearing of men, and another hearing of the beasts,
and a third of the birds, and one hearing differs from another
in keenness even as one sight differs from another in strength.
And all the earth is full of voices, and everything that moves
upon the face of it has its sound; but the bird hears that
which is unheard of the beast, and the beast hears that which is unheard
of men. But Naomi appeared to hear all that is heard of each.
Listening hour after hour, listening always, listening only,
with nothing that she could do but listen, nothing moved on the ground
but she dropped her face, and nothing flew in the sky
but she lifted her eyes. And whereas before the coming
of her great gift her face had been all feeling, and she seemed to feel
the sunset, and to feel the sky, and to feel the thunder and the light,
now her face was all hearing, and her whole body seemed to hear,
for she was like a living soul floating always in a sea of sound.
Thus, day after day, she was busy in her silence and in her darkness,
building up notions of man and of the world by the new gift with
which God had gifted her; but what strange thing the earth was
to her then, what the sun was with its warmth, and what the sea was
with its roar, and what the face of man was, and the eyes of woman,
none could know, and neither could she tell, for her soul
was not linked to other souls--soul to soul, in the chains of speech.
And for all that she could not answer; yet Israel did not forget that,
beside the sounds of earth and sky, Naomi was hearing words,
and that words had wings, and were alive, and, for good or ill,
made their mark on the soul that listened to them. So he continued
to read to her out of the Book of the Law, day after day at sunset,
according to his wont and custom. And when an evil spirit seemed
to make a mock at him, and to say, "Fool! she hears,
but does she understand?" he remembered how he had read to her
in the days of her deafness, and he said to himself,
"Shall I have less faith now that she can hear?"
But, though he turned his back on the temptation to let go of Naomi's soul
at last, yet sometimes his heart misgave him; for when he spoke to her
it seemed to him that he was like a man that shouts into a cavern
and gets back no answer but the sound of his own voice. If he told her
of the sky, that it was broad as the ocean, what could she see
of the great deeps to measure them? And if he told her of the sea,
that it was green as the fields, what could she see of the grass
to know its colour? And sometimes as he spoke to her it smote him suddenly
that the words themselves which he used to speak with were no more
to Naomi than the notes which Ali struck from his dead harp,
or the bleat of the goat at her feet.
Nevertheless, his faith was great, and he said in his heart,
"Let the Lord find His own way to her spirit." So he continued to speak
with her as often as he was near her, telling her of the little things
that concerned their household, as well as of the greater things
it was good for her soul to know.
It was a touching sight--the lonely man, the outcast among his people,
talking with his daughter though she was blind and dumb,
telling her of God, of heaven, of death and resurrection,
strong in his faith that his words would not fail, but that the casket
of her soul would be opened to receive them, and that they would lie
within until the great day of judgment, when the Lord Himself would call
for them.
Did Naomi hear his words to understand them, or did they fall dead
on her ear like birds on a dead sea? In her darkness and her silence
was she putting them together, comparing them, interpreting them,
pondering them, imitating them, gathering food for her mind from them,
and solace for her spirit? Israel did not know; and, watch her face
as he would, he could never learn. Hope! Faith! Trust!
What else was left to him? He clung to all three, he grappled them to him;
they were his sheet-anchor and his pole-star. But one day
they seemed to be his calenture also--the false picture of green fields
and sweet female faces that rises before the eye of the sailor becalmed
at sea.
It was some three weeks after his return from his journey,
and the fierce blaze of the sun continued. The storm that had broken
over the town had left no results of coolness or moisture,
for the ground had been baked hard, and the rain had been too short
and swift to penetrate it. And what the withering heat had spared
of green leaf and shrub a deadlier blight had swept away.
The locusts had lately come up from the south and the east,
in numbers exceedingimagination, millions on millions,
making the air dark as they passed and obscuring the blue sky.
They had swept the country of its verdure, and left a trail
of desolation behind them. The grass was gone, the bark
of the olives and almonds was stripped away, and the bare trees
had the look of winter.
The first to feel the plague had been the cattle and beasts of burden.
Without food to eat or water to drink they had died in hundreds.
A Mukabar, a cemetery, was made for the animals outside the walls
of the town. It was a charnel yard on the hill-side, near to one
of the town's six gates. The dead creatures were not buried there,
but merely cast on the bare ground to rot and to bleach in the sun
and the heated wind. It was a horrible place.
The skinny dogs of the town soon found it. And after these scavengers
of the East had torn the putrefying flesh and gnawed the multitude
of bones, they prowled around the country, with tongues lolling out,
in search of water. By this time there was none that they could come
at nearer than the sea, and that was salt. Nevertheless, they lapped it,
so burning was their thirst, and went mad, and came back to the town.
Then the people hunted them and killed them.
Now, it chanced that a mad dog from the Mukabar was being hunted to death
on a day when Naomi, who had become accustomed to the tumult
of the streets, had first ventured out in them alone, save for her goat,
that went before her. The goat was grown old, but it was still
her constantcompanion and also it was now her guide and guardian,
for the little dumb creature seemed to know that she was frail
and helpless. And so it was that she was crossing the Sok el Foki,
a market of the town, and hearkening only to the patter of the feet
of the goat going in front, when suddenly she heard a hundred footsteps
hurrying towards her, with shouts and curses that were loud and deep.
She stood in fear on the spot where she was, and no eyes had she to see
what happened next, and she had none save the goat to tell her.
But out of one of the dark arcades on the left, leading downward
from the hill, the mad dog came running, before a multitude
of men and boys. And flying in its despair, it bit out wildly
at whatever lay in its way, and Naomi, in her blindness, stood straight
in front of it. Then she must have fallen before it, but instantly
the goat flung itself across the dog's open jaws, and butted
at its foaming teeth, and sent up shrill cries of terror.
The dog stopped a moment, for such love was human, and it seemed as if
the madness of the monstershrank before it. But the people came down
with their wild shouts and curses, and the dog sprang upon the goat
and felled it, and fled away. The people followed it, and then Naomi
was alone in the market-place, and the goat lay at her feet.
- solemn [´sɔləm]
a.严肃的；隆重的 (初中英语单词) - standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- squirrel [´skwirəl] n.松鼠 (初中英语单词)
- wrought [rɔ:t] work 的过去式(分词) (初中英语单词)
- mystery [´mistəri] n.神秘；秘密；故弄玄虚 (初中英语单词)
- liquid [´likwid] n.液体 a.流动的 (初中英语单词)
- passion [´pæʃən] n.激情；激怒；恋爱 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- cradle [´kreidl] n.摇篮；发源地 (初中英语单词)
- whereas [weər´æz] conj.鉴于；因此；而 (初中英语单词)
- sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
- thunder [´θʌndə] n.雷 vi.打雷 vt.吼出 (初中英语单词)
- warmth [wɔ:mθ] n.温暖；热情；激动 (初中英语单词)
- measure [´meʒə] n.量度；范围 vt.测量 (初中英语单词)
- lonely [´ləunli] a.孤独的；无人烟的 (初中英语单词)
- female [´fi:meil] a.女(性)的 n.女人 (初中英语单词)
- fierce [fiəs] a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词)
- lately [´leitli] ad.近来，不久前 (初中英语单词)
- imagination [i,mædʒi´neiʃən] n.想象(力) (初中英语单词)
- horrible [´hɔrəbəl] a.可怕的；恐怖的 (初中英语单词)
- nevertheless [,nevəðə´les] conj.&ad.然而；不过 (初中英语单词)
- thirst [θə:st] n.渴，口渴；渴望 (初中英语单词)
- constant [´kɔnstənt] a.坚定的；坚贞的 (初中英语单词)
- companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
- helpless [´helpləs] a.无助的，无依靠的 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- despair [di´speə] vi.&n.绝望 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- monster [´mɔnstə] n.怪物 a.大得异常的 (初中英语单词)
- sprang [spræŋ] spring 的过去式 (初中英语单词)
- israel [´izreiəl] n.以色列 (高中英语单词)
- radiant [´reidiənt] a.发光的 n.光源(体) (高中英语单词)
- offering [´ɔfəriŋ] n.提供；礼物；捐献 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- homely [´həumli] a.朴素的；不漂亮的 (高中英语单词)
- heavenly [´hevənli] a.天的，天空的 (高中英语单词)
- hearing [´hiəriŋ] n.听力；听证会；审讯 (高中英语单词)
- temptation [temp´teiʃən] n.引诱，诱惑(物) (高中英语单词)
- concerned [kən´sə:nd] a.有关的；担心的 (高中英语单词)
- penetrate [´penitreit] v.贯穿；穿透；渗透 (高中英语单词)
- plague [pleig] n.瘟疫 vt.使...染疫 (高中英语单词)
- cemetery [´semitri] n.墓地，公墓 (高中英语单词)
- shrill [ʃril] a.(声音)尖锐的 (高中英语单词)
- madness [´mædnis] n.疯狂；狂热 (高中英语单词)
- beautifully [´bju:tifəli] ad.美丽地；优美地 (英语四级单词)
- caravan [´kærəvæn] n.大蓬车 (英语四级单词)
- cypress [´saipris] n.丝柏(枝) (英语四级单词)
- wanton [´wɔntən, ´wɑ:n-] a.顽皮的 n.&vi.荡妇 (英语四级单词)
- gifted [´giftid] a.有天赋的，有才华的 (英语四级单词)
- touching [´tʌtʃiŋ] a.动人的 prep.提到 (英语四级单词)
- gathering [´gæðəriŋ] n.集会，聚集 (英语四级单词)
- blight [blait] n.打击 vt.摧残 (英语四级单词)
- exceeding [ik´si:diŋ] a.超越的，非常的 (英语四级单词)
- desolation [desə´leiʃ(ə)n] n.荒凉 (英语四级单词)
- bleach [bli:tʃ] v.漂白；变白 (英语四级单词)
- patter [´pætə] n.行话 v.喋喋不休 (英语四级单词)
- blindness [´blaindnis] n.失明；愚味，文盲 (英语四级单词)
- outburst [´autbə:st] n.喷发；爆发；激增 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- awakening [ə´weikəniŋ] n.&a.觉醒(中的) (英语六级单词)
- solace [´sɔləs] n.&vt.安慰(物)；缓和 (英语六级单词)
- coolness [´ku:lnis] n.凉，凉爽；冷静 (英语六级单词)
- shrank [ʃræŋk] shrink的过去式 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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