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Nevertheless, after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, at the first sight of the Atlantic Ocean he recovered his spirits a little, and his hope. But it was only a brief respite. That vast but always smooth sea, the increasing heat, the misery of all those poor people who surrounded him, the consciousness of his own solitude, overwhelmed him once more. The empty and monotonous days which succeeded each other became confounded in his memory, as is the case with sick people. It seemed to him that he had been at sea a year.
船过直布罗陀海峡，一出大西洋，玛尔可才略振勇气和希望。可是这不过是暂时的。茫茫的样面上，除了水天以外什么都不见，天气渐渐加热，热，周围去国工人们的可怜的光景，和自己孤独的形影，都足使他心中罩上一层暗云。一天一天，总是这样无聊地过去，正如床上的病人忘记时日，自己在海上好像已住了一年了。
And every morning, on waking, he felt surprised afresh at finding himself there alone on that vast watery expanse, on his way to America. The beautiful flying fish which fell on deck every now and then, the marvellous sunsets of the tropics, with their enormous clouds colored like flame and blood, and those nocturnal phosphorescences which make the ocean seem all on fire like a sea of lava, did not produce on him the effect of realthings, but of marvels beheld in a dream. There were days of bad weather, during which he remained constantly in the dormitory, where everything was rolling and crashing, in the midst of a terrible chorus of lamentations and imprecations, and he thought that his last hour had come.
每天早晨张开眼来，知自己仍在大西洋中，独自在赴美洲的途中，自己也惊讶。甲板上时时落下的美丽的飞鱼，焰血一般的热带地方的日没，以及夜中火山似的漂满海面的粼光，在他都好像在梦境中看见，不觉得这些是实物。天气不好的日子，终日终夜卧在室里，听器物的滚动声，磕碰声，周围人们的哭叫声，呻吟声，觉得似乎末日已到了。
There were other days, when the sea was calm and yellowish, of insupportable heat, of infinite tediousness; interminable and wretched hours, during which the enervated passengers, stretched motionless on the planks, seemed all dead. And the voyage was endless: sea and sky, sky and sea; to-day the same as yesterday, to-morrow like to-day, and so on, always, eternally. And for long hours he stood leaning on the bulwarks, gazing at that interminable sea in amazement, thinking vaguely of his mother, until his eyes closed and his head was drooping with sleep; and then again he beheld that unknown face which gazed upon him with an air of compassion, and repeated in his ear, "Your mother is dead!" and at the sound of that voice he awoke with a start, to resume his dreaming with wide-open eyes, and to gaze at the unchanging horizon.
当那静寂的海转成黄色，炎热加沸时，觉得倦怠无聊。在这种时候，疲弱极了的乘客都死也似的卧倒在甲板上不动。海不知何日才可行尽。满眼只见水与天，天与水，昨天，今天，明天，都是这样。玛尔可时时倚了船舷一连几小时茫然地看海，一边想着母亲，往往不知不觉闭眼入梦。梦见那不相识者很怜悯地附耳告诉他：你母亲已死在那里了！”他一被这话声惊醒过来，仍对着水平线做梦也似的空想。
Nevertheless, after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, at the first sight of the Atlantic Ocean he recovered his spirits a little, and his hope. But it was only a brief respite. That vast but always smooth sea, the increasing heat, the misery of all those poor people who surrounded him, the consciousness of his own solitude, overwhelmed him once more. The empty and monotonous days which succeeded each other became confounded in his memory, as is the case with sick people. It seemed to him that he had been at sea a year.
船过直布罗陀海峡，一出大西洋，玛尔可才略振勇气和希望。可是这不过是暂时的。茫茫的样面上，除了水天以外什么都不见，天气渐渐加热，热，周围去国工人们的可怜的光景，和自己孤独的形影，都足使他心中罩上一层暗云。一天一天，总是这样无聊地过去，正如床上的病人忘记时日，自己在海上好像已住了一年了。
And every morning, on waking, he felt surprised afresh at finding himself there alone on that vast watery expanse, on his way to America. The beautiful flying fish which fell on deck every now and then, the marvellous sunsets of the tropics, with their enormous clouds colored like flame and blood, and those nocturnal phosphorescences which make the ocean seem all on fire like a sea of lava, did not produce on him the effect of realthings, but of marvels beheld in a dream. There were days of bad weather, during which he remained constantly in the dormitory, where everything was rolling and crashing, in the midst of a terrible chorus of lamentations and imprecations, and he thought that his last hour had come.
每天早晨张开眼来，知自己仍在大西洋中，独自在赴美洲的途中，自己也惊讶。甲板上时时落下的美丽的飞鱼，焰血一般的热带地方的日没，以及夜中火山似的漂满海面的粼光，在他都好像在梦境中看见，不觉得这些是实物。天气不好的日子，终日终夜卧在室里，听器物的滚动声，磕碰声，周围人们的哭叫声，呻吟声，觉得似乎末日已到了。
There were other days, when the sea was calm and yellowish, of insupportable heat, of infinite tediousness; interminable and wretched hours, during which the enervated passengers, stretched motionless on the planks, seemed all dead. And the voyage was endless: sea and sky, sky and sea; to-day the same as yesterday, to-morrow like to-day, and so on, always, eternally. And for long hours he stood leaning on the bulwarks, gazing at that interminable sea in amazement, thinking vaguely of his mother, until his eyes closed and his head was drooping with sleep; and then again he beheld that unknown face which gazed upon him with an air of compassion, and repeated in his ear, "Your mother is dead!" and at the sound of that voice he awoke with a start, to resume his dreaming with wide-open eyes, and to gaze at the unchanging horizon.
当那静寂的海转成黄色，炎热加沸时，觉得倦怠无聊。在这种时候，疲弱极了的乘客都死也似的卧倒在甲板上不动。海不知何日才可行尽。满眼只见水与天，天与水，昨天，今天，明天，都是这样。玛尔可时时倚了船舷一连几小时茫然地看海，一边想着母亲，往往不知不觉闭眼入梦。梦见那不相识者很怜悯地附耳告诉他：你母亲已死在那里了！”他一被这话声惊醒过来，仍对着水平线做梦也似的空想。
