查询词典 veil-wearing

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

当暮霭如柔纱诗意般地笼罩在河畔，破旧的房屋消失于迷蒙的天际，高耸的烟囱幻化成钟楼，仓库成了夜晚的宫殿，整座城市悬在空中，仿佛仙境展现在我们面前。此时，旅行者加快了回家的步伐，工人和文人，明智的人和玩乐的人，由于对此视而不见，便无法领悟这样美丽的意境。大自然只为艺术家吟唱起她那美妙的乐曲。可以说他是她的儿子亦是她的主人，因为他爱她也懂她。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us—then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master—her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

当黄昏来临，那诗歌般的雾霭像面纱一样笼罩着河边。古旧的建筑在朦胧的天边渐渐消失，高耸的烟囱仿佛成了钟楼，栋栋库房犹如夜晚的宫殿。在这样的夜晚，整座城市就如同一座空中花园，宛若人间仙境。这时，路上的行人正步伐匆匆，赶着回家；而无论庄稼人或文化人，智者还是乐天派，都不再去费力明白什么，因为他们已经不再看到什么了。而大自然再次吟唱起她那美妙的歌声，唱给那些艺术家们听，因为艺术家是她的儿子，也是她的主人------是儿子，因为他爱她如此；是主人，因为他知她如此。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

当河岸诗意地披上了薄雾，仿佛蒙上了面纱，那古老的楼舍迷失在暗淡的天空之下，高耸的烟囱幻化成钟楼，就连仓房都变成了夜色中的宫殿，整个城市仿佛悬于天堂之下，童话般的世界便呈现了我们的面前——外出的人们行色匆匆，赶往家的方向，那些忙于工作的教养很好的人们，还有那些睿智快乐的人们，驻足思考，驻足观望。大自然，这次却是以她的曲调，独独为艺术家献上了自己优美的歌声，仿佛面对的是她的儿子亦或称为主人——作为儿子，他爱着她；作为主人，他了解她。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

当傍晚的薄雾笼罩着河岸，一切都充满了诗意，就像蒙上了一层薄薄的面纱，灰暗的房子渐渐消失在暗淡的天空中，夜里，高耸的烟囱变成了钟楼，仓库变成了华丽的宫殿，整个城市似乎是悬浮于空中，仿佛置身于仙境一般—旅行者匆匆的回家了，行人，骚客，聪明人，快乐的人，开始不明白了，因为他们停止了观察，自然曾经用她的旋律唱着歌，优美动听的音乐唱给了孤独的艺术家--一个以为爱着自然的孩子，懂她的艺术大师。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

夜幕降临，薄雾如诗似的笼罩着河畔，仿佛面纱一般，破旧的房屋在昏暗的夜色中如痴如醉，高耸着的烟囱变成了钟塔，货栈也成了宫殿，整座城市似乎都浮在空中，如仙镜一般。接着，旅客们匆匆归家；工作又有修养的人，聪明又很快乐的人，因为停止了观察，也停止了领会。大自然，仅此一次，也哼起了小曲，优美的歌，只为艺术家而唱------因为艺术家既是深爱着她的儿子，也是深知她的主人。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

当暮霭诗意般地如面纱一样覆上河畔时，在昏暗的天空下，破旧的房屋迷失了它们自己，高耸的烟囱幻化成了钟楼，就连仓库也成了夜晚的宫殿，整座城市就如同悬挂于天堂一般；而仙境就在我们面前——于是旅人匆匆赶回家；工作的人和有教养的人，聪明的人和快乐的人都停止了思考，就像他们已经停止了观赏一样。自然，这一次已经在合着调子歌唱，唱着优雅的歌曲，仅献给艺术家，她的孩子和主人——说是孩子，因为他爱她；说是主人，因为他懂她。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

黄昏时分，迷雾给河畔穿了一层诗画般的衣裳。带着这层面纱，那些可怜的屋舍在昏暗的天空下销声匿迹，高耸的烟囱俨然成为灯塔，夜间的仓库若然变成宫殿。整个城市临于天堂之口，一片乐土尽在眼前。旅客们，行色匆匆，加快了回家的脚步。工作之人、教育之人、聪明之人、愉悦之人都停止了探究，也停止了注视。第一次，自然唱着自己的曲子。独为了了艺术家，她唱着她那首优美的曲子。也为了她的儿子和她的主人，因为爱她，所以是儿子；因为理解她，所以是主人。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

当夜幕为河滨蒙上一层诗意般的薄雾之时，潦倒的建筑在昏暗的天穹下像被什么东西盖住一样看不见了，高耸的烟囱变得像一座钟楼一般，仓库在黑夜中看起来像座雄伟的宫殿，整座城市悬挂在天空中，给人如置身仙境般的感觉。旅人加快了归家的步伐；忙于工作的人，聪慧和有学识的人还有快乐的人们理解不了其中的奥秘，因为他们从没用心眼去观察过自然界。而自然只曾为孤独的艺术家——她的儿子，那个大师高歌一曲，因为只有艺术家爱着她，深深了解她。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

夜晚的雾气湿润了衣服，河畔雾气缭绕，充满诗情画意，陈旧的建筑物云雾环绕，渐渐消失在灰蒙蒙的天空中。高高的烟囱在雾气中好似钟楼，连夜色中的仓库也变成了辉煌的宫殿，整座城市仿佛悬浮于空。在我们眼前的就是仙境----路上行人匆匆；无论是工作者，文学者，干练者还是享乐者，已经停止了观察自然，进而停止了理解自然。然而自然还是动情歌唱，把她最优美动听的歌声献给她唯一的艺术家，她的儿子和主人----说他是儿子是因为他爱她，说他是主人是因为他懂她。

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before us——then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master——her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

当夜色如一袭朦胧的面纱，模糊了匆匆的行人，模糊了河畔涓涓的诗情，当贫瘠之家在暗淡的天空下迷失了自己，直耸如云的烟囱衍变成遗世独立的钟鼓，当富裕之家成了晚间的宫殿，当整座城市悬挂在天堂之间，梦幻的仙境就在我们眼前——而那羁旅之人也正急速地往家的方向赶去；工人和文人，明智者和快乐者停下了思维，他们不再有看的欲望。而自然，又一次哼起了调子，仅对着艺术家唱起了她独有精美的歌，艺术家就像她的儿子和主人——爱着她的儿子，了解她的主人。

Neither the killing of Mr Zarqawi nor any breakthrough on the political front will stop the insurgency and the fratricidal murders in their tracks.

在对危险的南部地区访问时，他斥责什叶派民兵领导人对中央集权的挑衅行为。

In fact,I've got him on the satellite mobile right now.

实际上 我们已接通卫星可视电话了