CATTI二级笔译日常练习：人生如诗

CATTI是学英语人的一块试金石，平时都觉得自己英语学的还行，试过CATTI就知道自己是什么水平了。这里还是建议大家实践为主，因为翻译这种东西，经验和技巧太重要了。下面是小编整理的关于CATTI二级笔译日常练习：人生如诗的内容，希望对你有所帮助！

　　I think that, from a biological standpoint, human life almost reads like a poem. It has its　own rhythm and beat, its internal cycles of growth and decay. It begins with innocent　childhood, followed by awkward adolescence trying awkwardly to adapt itself to mature　society, with its young passions and follies, its ideals and ambitions; then it reaches a　manhood of intense activities, profiting from experience and learning more about society　and human nature; at middle age, there is a slight easing of tension, a mellowing of　character like the ripening of fruit or the mellowing of good wine, and the gradual acquiring　of a more tolerant, more cynical and at the same time a kindlier view of life; then In the　sunset of our life, the endocrine glands decrease their activity, and if we have a true　philosophy of old age and have ordered our life pattern according to it, it is for us the age　of peace and security and leisure and contentment; finally, life flickers out and one goes　into eternal sleep, never to wake up again. One should be able to sense the beauty of this rhythm of life, to appreciate, as we do in　grand symphonies, its main theme, its strains of conflict and the final resolution. The　movements of these cycles are very much the same in a normal life, but the music must　be provided by the individual himself. In some souls, the discordant note becomes harsher　and harsher and finally overwhelms or submerges the main melody. Sometimes the　discordant note gains so much power that the music can no longer go on, and the　individual shoots himself with a pistol or jump into a river. But that is because his original　leitmotif has been hopelessly over-showed through the lack of a good self-education.　Otherwise the normal human life runs to its normal end in kind of dignified movement and　procession. There are sometimes in many of us too many staccatos or impetuosos, and　because the tempo is wrong, the music is not pleasing to the ear; we might have more of　the grand rhythm and majestic tempo o the Ganges, flowing slowly and eternally into the　sea.

　　No one can say that life with childhood, manhood and old age is not a beautiful　arrangement; the day has its morning, noon and sunset, and the year has its seasons,　and it is good that it is so. There is no good or bad in life, except what is good according to　its own season. And if we take this biological view of life and try to live according to the　seasons, no one but a conceited fool or an impossible idealist can deny that human life　can be lived like a poem. Shakespeare has expressed this idea more graphically in his　passage about the seven stages of life, and a good many Chinese writers have said about　the same thing. It is curious that Shakespeare was never very religious, or very much　concerned with religion. I think this was his greatness; he took human life largely as it was,　and intruded himself as little upon the general scheme of things as he did upon the　characters of his plays. Shakespeare was like Nature itself, and that is the greatest　compliment we can pay to a writer or thinker. He merely lived, observed life and went　away.

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