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"Let us rest here," said St. John, as we reached the first stragglers of a battalion of rocks,
让我们在这儿歇一下吧，”圣·约翰说，这时我们已来到了一个岩石群的第一批散乱的石头跟前。
guarding a sort of pass, beyond which the beck rushed down a waterfall; and where,
这个岩石群守卫着隘口，一条小溪从隘口的另一头飞流直下，形成了瀑布。
still a little farther, the mountain shook off turf and flower, had only heath for raiment and crag for gem --
再远一点的地方，山峦抖落了身上的草地和花朵，只剩下欧石南蔽体，岩石作珠宝——
where it exaggerated the wild to the savage, and exchanged the fresh for the frowning --
在这里山把荒凉夸大成了蛮荒，用愁眉苦脸来代替精神饱满——
where it guarded the forlorn hope of solitude, and a last refuge for silence.
在这里，山为孤寂守护着无望的希望，为静穆守护着最后的避难所。
I took a seat: St. John stood near me.
我坐了下来，圣·约翰坐在我旁边。
He looked up the pass and down the hollow;
他抬头仰望山隘，又低头俯视空谷。
his glance wandered away with the stream, and returned to traverse the unclouded heaven which coloured it:
他的目光随着溪流飘移，随后又回过来扫过给溪流上了彩的明净的天空。
he removed his hat, let the breeze stir his hair and kiss his brow.
他脱去帽子，让微风吹动头发，吻他的额头。
He seemed in communion with the genius of the haunt: with his eye he bade farewell to something.
他似乎在与这个他常到之处的守护神在交流，他的眼睛在向某种东西告别。
"And I shall see it again," he said aloud,
“我会再看到它的，”他大声说，
"in dreams when I sleep by the Ganges: and again in a more remote hour --
“在梦中，当我睡在恒河旁边的时候。再有，在更遥远的时刻——
when another slumber overcomes me -- on the shore of a darker stream!"
当我又一次沉沉睡去的时候——在一条更暗淡的小溪的岸边。”
Strange words of a strange love!
离奇的话表达了一种离奇的爱：
An austere patriot's passion for his fatherland!
一个严峻的爱国者对自己祖国的激情！
He sat down; for half-an-hour we never spoke; neither he to me nor I to him: that interval past, he recommenced: --
他坐了下来，我们足足有半小时没有说话，他没有开口，我也没有吱声。这段沉默之后，他开始说了：
"Jane, I go in six weeks;
“简，六周以后我要走了，
I have taken my berth in an East Indiaman which sails on the 20th of June."
我已在‘东印度人’号船里订好了舱位，六月二十日开航。”
"God will protect you; for you have undertaken His work," I answered.
“上帝一定会保护你，因为你做着他的工作，”我回答。
