时辰景色 第11期

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DAY

The air was utterly dead. These was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of sleepy days.… Away off in the flaming sunshine，Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green sides through a shimmering veil of heat， tinted with the purple of distance；a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air；no other living thing visible but some cows， and they were asleep.

―Mark Twain

MORNING

It was one of the usual slowsunrises of this time of the year， and the sky， pure violet in the zenith， was leaden to the northward， and murky to the east， where， over the snowy down or ewe-lease on Weatherbury Upper Farm， and apparently resting upon the ridge， the only half of the sun yet visible burnt rayless， like a red and flameless fire shining over a white hearthstone.

―Thomas Hardy

DUSK

A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone，and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone， and a torn cloud， like a bloody rag， hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon， and darkness crept over the land from the east. The evening star flashed and glittered in the dusk.

― John Steinbeck

EVENING

It was now the sweetest hour of the twenty-four:“Day its fervid fires had wasted.” And dew fell cool on panting plain and scorched summit.Where the sun had gone down in simple state―pure of the pomp of clouds ―spread a solemn purple， burning with the light of red jewel and furnace flame at one point， on one hill-peak， and extendinghigh and wide， soft and still softer over half heaven. The east had its own charm of fine， deep blue， and its own modest gem， a rising and solitary star:soon it would boast the moon， but she was get beneath the horizon.

―Charlotte Bronte

NIGHT

Here the sea， not the stream， was night’s voice; the sea with its sign and rustle; no little bird， no owl， no night-jar called or spun; but a piano tinkled， and the white houses cut the sky with solid curve， and the scent from the lilacs filled the air.

―J. Glasworthy

空气十分沉闷，一点动荡的气息都没有。那是困人的天气当中最困人的时候。……外面远处炎热的阳光中，加第夫山透过一层微微闪动的热气蒸腾的清幕，耸起它那模糊的青翠山腰，表面抹上了一层远景的紫色；几只鸟儿在高空展翅飞翔；除了几头牛外，再也看不见别的动物，这些牛也睡着了。（马克•吐温）

这是每年这种时节常见的一个日出缓慢的清晨，天顶是纯紫色的，北边的天空一片铅灰，东方，韦瑟伯利上农场那积雪的平原或牧羊租借地的上空迷雾蒙蒙，刚刚从山脊上露出脸来的半边太阳亮而无光，宛若一团红色无焰的火在东方白色的炉石上空燃烧着。（托马斯• 哈代）

一块红色的太阳在地平线上停留了一些时候才落下去，太阳落下的地方，天空灿烂夺目，浮着一片血红的破布似的彩云。暮色从东方地平线爬上了天空，黑暗从东边笼罩了大地。金星在黄昏中闪烁着。（约翰•斯坦贝克）

那是二十四小时中最可爱的一小时――“白天已将它炽烈的火耗尽。”露水清凉地降落在喘息的平原和烤焦的山顶上。在太阳没披上华丽的云彩就朴素地沉落的地方，伸展着一片庄严的紫色，在一个小山峰上方的一点上，红宝石和炉火般的光辉正在燃烧着，高高地远远地扩散开来，变得柔和再柔和，覆盖了半个天空。东方有它自己的悦目的湛蓝的美，还有它自己的谦逊的宝石，一颗徐徐升起的孤星：它不久就要以月亮为荣，可是现在月亮还在地平线以下。

（夏洛蒂•勃朗特）

这里，夜的语声是海，而不是小河；是海的叹息和激波声；没有小鸟，没有猫头鹰，也没有夜鹰的叫声或长鸣；只有一架钢琴叮咚叮咚地奏着，白色的房屋在天空勾画出立体的曲线，丁香的香味充满了空间。（高尔斯华绥）