烟囱

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.

每当傍晚，那富有诗意的迷雾便如面纱一般笼罩着溪边，陈旧的房屋消失在朦胧的天空，高高的烟囱犹似一座座钟楼，幢幢库房恍如夜间的宫殿，整座城市悬在空中，宛若仙境展现在我们眼前。此时此刻，路上的行人匆匆赶路回家，无论是劳动者还是饱读经书者，智慧者还是寻求乐趣者，只因为他们再也看不见什么，也就不能有所理解。而这时已经开始歌唱的大自然便把自己微妙的歌唱给艺术家，他既是她的儿子也是她的主人。说是她的儿子是因为爱他，说是她的主人是因为理解他。

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，那如诗般的薄雾笼罩着河畔，古老的房屋在昏暗的天空中若隐若现，高高的烟囱仿佛钟楼一般，仓库似乎也在夜色中化身成华丽的宫殿，整座城市都悬在空中，仙境般的呈现在眼前。路上的行人加快了回家的脚步，无论辛劳的工人还是儒雅的文人，无论博学的智者还是寻求快乐的人，当他们看不见时也就不能理解。而唯独自然还能尽情的歌唱，向那既是她的孩子又是她的主人的艺术家唱着动听的歌曲，因为他深深地爱着她，并充分地理解她。

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.

当夜晚的迷雾带着面纱诗意般地来到河边，老旧的房子在昏暗的夜色中渐渐模糊，高高的烟囱和仓库在夜晚也分别成为了钟楼和宫殿，这个城市犹如挂在天上一样，童话中的土地出现在我们面前，旅人加快了回家的步伐；所有的人都停止了对大自然的了解与观赏，因为大自然已用它自己的曲调，向孤独的艺术家唱出了她最美的歌曲，因为艺术家爱着大自然，因为艺术家了解大自然。

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.

当夜晚的雾霭为河畔披上诗意般的面纱时，破旧的矮房消失在朦胧的天际，高高的烟囱好似了座座矗立的钟楼，货仓都好似夜晚的宫殿，整个城市都悬在天空，犹如仙境---无论是工人还是文人，智者还是浪荡子都匆匆赶回家，他们不明白，也没能欣赏这一切。然而自然就给他的孩子，她的主人---艺术家歌唱，婉转动听。因为是她的孩子，她的主人，所以艺术家深深的爱着她，深深地懂得她。

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。

We have no common name for a mime of Sophron or Xenarchus and a Socratic Conversation; and we should still be without one even if the imitation in the two instances were in trimeters or elegiacs or some other kind of verse--though it is the way with people to tack on 'poet' to the name of a metre, and talk of elegiac-poets and epic-poets, thinking that they call them poets not by reason of the imitative nature of their work, but indiscriminately by reason of the metre they write in.

索夫农 、森那库斯和苏格拉底式的对话采用的模仿没有一个公共的名称；三音步诗、挽歌体或其他类型的诗的模仿也没有——人们把&诗人&这一名词和格律名称结合到一起，称之为挽歌体诗人或者史诗诗人，他们被称为诗人，似乎只是因为遵守格律写作，而非他们作品的模仿本质。

The relationship between communicative competence and grammar teaching should be that of the ends and the means.

交际能力和语法的关系应该是目标与途径的关系。