Doraemon

第一章： 原文及翻译： THE OTHER MINISTER It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting alone in his office,reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind. He was waiting for a call from the President of a far distant country, and between wondering when the wretched man would telephone, and trying to wuppress unpleasant memories of what had been a very long, tiring,and difficult week, there was not much space in his head for anything else. The more he attempted to focud on the print on the page before him, the more clearly the Prime Minister coule see the gloating face of one of his political opponents. This particular opponent had appeared on the news that very day, not only to enumeerate all the terrible things that had happened in the last weed(as though anyone needed reminding）bur also to explain why each and every one of them was the government's fault. 另一位部长 已经快接近午夜了，首相独自坐在办公室中，阅读一个长长的备忘录，它的内容滑过他的脑海，却没留下一丝的痕迹。他在等待另一个遥远国家的总统的电话，猜想何时那个不幸的男人会来电，并且试着wuppress（不知楼主是否打错，这个词查不到）那些一周来冗长烦人而困难的记忆，他的脑子已经没地儿想别的事情了。首相越想集中精神在面前的纸上，就越能清晰的看见他一个反对者脸上那幸灾乐祸的微笑。这个反对者每天出现在新闻中，不仅仅列举过去一周发生的所有可怕事件（就像有人需要被提醒一样），还解释为什么每一件事情都是政府的错误。 The Prime Minister's pulse quickned at the very thought of these accusations, for they were neither fair nor true. How on earth was his government supposed to have stopped that bridge collapsing? It was outrageous for anybody to suggest that they were not spending enough on bridges . The bridge was fewer than ten years old, and the best experts were at a loss to explain why it had smapped cleanly in two, sending a dozen cars into the watery depths of the river below .And how dare anyone suggest that it was lack of policemen that had resulted in those two very nasty and well-publicized murders? Or that the government should have xomehow foreseen the freak hurricane in the West Country that had caused so much damage to bboth penple and property? And was it his fault that one of his Junior Ministers, Herbert Chorley,had chosen this week to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be spending a lot more time with his family? 想到这些指控的时候首相的脉搏加速跳动，因为这些不公平也不是真的。到底他的政府怎么能够阻止大桥的坍塌呢？猜测说他们没有在桥上花足够的钱，每个人都不信。那个桥才不到10年，最好的专家也无法解释它为什么突然断成两截，同时把几十辆车子掉进了下面的河水里。谁敢说，那是因为警力不够才导致那两个让人厌恶的非常引起注意的谋杀犯？或者说政府应该早就预见到了那反常的曾在西方世界引起人员和财物的巨大损失的飓风？而且，他一个部长Herbert Chorley奇怪的选择这一周去用更多时间陪伴家人是错误的？ （这段好乱，总之就是说魔法世界对muggle世界破坏的乱七八糟，首相解释都解释不了）

Doraemon

And unfortunately, this was perfectly true.The Prime Minister felt it himself; people really did seem more misterable than usual.Even the weather was dismal; all this chilly mist in the middle of July ... it wasn't right, it wasn't normal... "一种严峻的风格已经紧握国家"，对手已经结束，勉强隐藏他自己的宽的露齿的笑。 并且令人遗憾，这完全是true.The总理感到它自己； 与usual.Even相比较，人们真的确实似乎更多的misterable天气是灰暗的； 7月中旬的全部这片寒冷的雾 ... 它不正确，它不正常 ... He turned over the second page of the memo, saw how much longer it went on, and gave it up as a bad job. Stretching his arms above his head he looked around his office mournfully. It was a handsome room,with a fine marble fireplace facing the long sash windows, firmly closed against the unseasonable chill.With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister got up and moved over to the windows, looking out at the thin mist that was pressing itself against the glass. It was then, as he stood with his back to the room, that he heard a soft cought behind him. 他翻过备忘录的第二页，看到这已经继续多久了，然后像对待一个坏差使一样放弃它。他在头顶伸展双臂，悲痛的环视着办公室。这是个帅气的屋子，漂亮的大理石壁炉对着将反季的冰冷挡在外面的落地窗(?)。微微颤抖了一下，部长站起来挪动了一下窗子，看着外面压在玻璃上的薄雾。就在然后，他背对着屋子的时候，听到身后传来一声轻轻的咳嗽。 He froze, nose-to-nose with his own scared-looking reflection in the dark glass. He knew that cought. He had heard it before. He turned, very slowly, to face the empty room. "Hello?"he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. For a brief moment he allowed himself the impossible hope that nobody would answer him. However, a voice responded at once, a crisp, decisive voice that sounded as though it were reading a prepared statement. It was coming -as the Prime Minister had known at the first cough- from the froglike little man wearing a long silver wig who was depicted in a small and dirty oil-painting in the far corner of the room. 他不禁打了个寒颤了，鼻子跟自己在黑暗的玻璃上的恐怖影子顶在一起。他知道那个咳嗽声。他以前听到过它。他非常慢的转过身，看着空空的房间。 “你好？”他说，试着比自己感觉的勇敢些。 简短的一瞬，他允许自己不可能的相信没人会答应。但是，一个声音很快回应了，以一个硬脆的，果断的听起来就像读一个准备好的陈述一样的声音。它来了——像首相一开始就知道的那个咳嗽——像青蛙一样的一个矮小男人，戴着银色长假发，就像他屋子角落那个脏兮兮的油画描绘出来的一样。 "To the Prime Minister of Muggles. Urgent we meet. Kingdly respond immediately. Sincerelly, Fudge,'The man in the painting looked enquiringly at the Prime Minister. "Er,"said the Prime Minister,"listen ... it's not a very good time for me... i'm waiting for a telephone call, you see from the president of-" "That can be rearranged,'said the portrait at once. The Prime Minister's heart sank.He had been afraid of that. "But I really was rather hoping to speek-" We shall arrange for the president to forget to call. He will telephone tomorrow night instead,"said the little man."Kindly respond immediately to Mr Fudge."

Doraemon

"I ... oh ... very well," said the Prime Minister weakly."yes, I'll see Fudge." He hurried back to his desk, straightening his tie as he went. He had barely resumed his seat, and arranged his face into what he hoped was a relaxed and unfazed expression, when bright green flames burst into life in the empty grate beneath his marble mantelpiece. He watched, trying not to betray a flicker of surprise or alarm, as a portly man appeared within the flames, spinning as fast as a top. Seconds later, he had climbed out on to a rather fine antique rug, brushing ash from the sleeves of his long pinstriped cloak, a lime-green bowler hat in his hand. “致马瓜首相。我们需要紧急会议。最好尽快恢复。福吉。”画中的男人怀疑的看着首相。 “嗯。”首相说：“听着……现在我没有时间……我正在等一个电话。你知道从……” “那可以被延期。”画像立刻说。首相的心沉了下去。他正是害怕这个。 “但我真得更想和……” “我们可以安排总统忘了这个电话。他的电话可以留到明天晚上。”那个小男人说。“最好现在就给福吉先生回信。” “我……哦……好吧。”首相虚弱得说：“好吧，我现在就见福吉。” 他很快回到他的桌子前，走路的时候整理好了他的领带。几乎还没有在他的位子上坐稳，将他的脸调整成一种他希望是放松而且镇静的表情，一道明亮的绿色火焰便在他的大理石壁炉下产生了。他看着，尽量不使自己露出吃惊和警惕的表情，这时一个肥胖的男人出现在火焰中，快速旋转着。几秒钟后，他爬出了壁炉踏上了一个很好的古董地毯，弹掉他那长长的细条文袍子的袖子上的灰尘，手中拿着绿色的巫师帽。 "Ah ... Prime Minister,' said Cornelius Fudge, striding for wards with his hand outstretched."Good to see you again." The Prime Minister could not honestly return this compliment, so said nothing at all.He was not remotely pleased to see Fudge, whose occasional appearances, apart from being downright alarming in themselves, generally meant that he was about to hear some very bad news.Furthermore, fudge was looking distinctly careworn. He was thinner, balder and greyer, and his face had a crumpled look. The Prime Minister had seen that kind of look in politicians before, and it never boded well. "how can I help you?" he said, shaking Fudge's hand very briefly and gesturing towards the hardest of the chairs in front of the desk. "Difficult to know where to begin,"muttered Fudge, pulling up the chair, sitting down and placing his green bowler upon his knees."What a week, what a week..." "A=Had a bad one too, have you?" asked the Prime Minister stiffly, hoping to convey by this that he had quite enough on his plate already without any extra helpings from Fudge. "yes, of course," said Fudge, rubbing his eveys wearily and looking morosely at the Prime Minister."I've been haveing the same week you have, Prime Minister. The Brockdale bridge ... the same week you have, Prime Minister. The Brockdale bridge ... the Bones and Vance murders ... not to mention the ruckus in the West Country..." "You-er-your-I mean to say, some of your people were-were involved in those - those things, were they?" Fudge fixed the Prime Minister with a rather stern look. "Of course they were," he said ."Surely you've realised what's going on?" "I ..."hesitated the Prime MInister. It was precisely this sort of behaviour that made him dislike Fudge's visits so much. He was ,after all, the Prime Minister, and did not appreciate being made to feel like an ignorant schoolboy. But of course, it had been like this from his very first meeting with Fudge on his very first evening as Prime Minister. He remembered it as though it were yesterday and knew it would haunt him until his dying day. “啊……首相，”Fudge说，伸出他的手（要握手），“再见到你太好了。” 首相无法诚实的回应他的问候，所以干脆什么都没说。他看见Fuge一点都不高兴，戴着并不意外的表情，跟他们紧张警惕的表情不同，那说明他将要听到一些非常坏的消息。更糟的是，Fuge看起来明显的忧心忡忡。他瘦了些，头发更少而更灰白了，他的脸皱纹更多了。首相在政客脸上看见过这种表情，那从没预示过好事。 “我能如何帮助你？”他说，Fudge摇了下头，他示意了一下桌前的椅子。 “难以知道这从哪开始的，”Fudge哼哼的说，拉出椅子，坐下把绿色礼帽放在膝盖上，“一周了，一周了……” “你的一周也很糟，是吗？”首相费劲的说，希望表示说没有Fudge的帮助他已经受够了。 “当然是了，”Fudge说，疲劳的擦了擦眼睛，闷闷的看着首相。“我跟你一样的过了一周，首相。Brockdale大桥……尸骨和谋杀犯……更别提西方世界的骚动了……” “你……你的……我是说，你的一些人……跟这些有关，是不是？” Fudge严厉的盯着首相。 “当然了，”他说，“当然你已经认识到发生了什么事了？” “我……”首相犹豫的说， 就是这种行为让他不喜欢Fudge的来访。毕竟，他是首相，不喜欢被当作一个无知的男学生。但是当然了，从他第一次见到Fudge的晚上就开始这样了。 他记得这些，就像昨天刚发生，这些会一直萦绕他的心头直到他死的那天。

Doraemon

哈利波特与混血王子转贴连载见这里 http://www.hyxs.net/bbs/dispbbs.asp?boardid=20&id=11484&star=1#44949

[此贴子已经被作者于2005-7-16 2241编辑过]