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和訳をお願いします １ A fool is one who expects things to happen that never can happen. ２ The deceased left a wife and three little ones. ３ The nurse began to bind the wounds of those inside the hospital. ４ You will never be the man your father was,though you have some of his looks. ５ He ate the meal in silence , and after dinner he busied with a bottle of gin as was his custom. ６ There are houses on either side of the river. よろしくお願いします
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1．愚か者とは決して起こり得ない事が起こるのを期待する者を言う。 2．故人は妻と幼子三人を残した。 3．そのナースは病院内の患者たちの傷の手当てを始めた。 4．君はお父さんみたいな人にはならんだろうね。面立ちは似ているがね。 5．彼は無言で食事を取り、夕食を終えると彼の常として、ジンボトルを傾けるのに忙しい。 6．川の片側に家が建ち並んでいる。
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こちらの文を和訳していただける方がいましたら よろしくお願いしますm(__)m But his thoughts did not appear on Albert Edward's clean-cut and distinguished features. He stood in 20 respectful but not obsequious attitude. He had in service before he was appointed to his ecclesiastical office, but only in very good houses, and his deport. ment was irreproachable. Starting as a page boy in the household of a merchant prince, he had risen by 25 due degrees from the position of fourth to first footman, for a year he had been single-handed butler to a widowed peeress, and, till the vacancy occurred at St Peter's, butler with two men under him in the house of a retired ambassador. He was tall, spare, grave, and dignified. He looked, if not like a duke, at least like an actor of the old school who specialized duke's parts. He had tact, firmness, and self- s assurance. His character was unimpeachable. The vicar began briskly. Foreman, we've got something rather unpleasant to say to you. You've been here a great many years and I think his lordship and the general agree with me that you've fulfilled the duties of your office to the satisfaction of everybody concerned. The two churchwardens nodded. 'But a most extraordinary circumstance came to my knowledge the other day and I felt it my duty to us impart it to the churchwardens. I discovered to my astonishment that you could neither read nor write.' The verger's face betrayed no sign of embarrass- ment. "The last vicar knew that, sir,' he replied. "He said a it didn't make no difference. He always said there was a great deal too much education in the world for 'is taste.
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There he was on the ground,in no condition to go on, and all of a sudden he was no longer in Poland.instead,he found himself imaging himself standing on a stage on postwar Vienna giving a lecture on The Psychology of Death Camps. Audience of two hundred listened to his every word. The lecture was one that he had been working out the whole time he had been in the death camp. He spoke about how some people seem to survive the experience better than others, psychologically and emotionally. It was a brilliant lecture, all taking place in his mind's eye and ear. He was no longer half dead on the field but living in the lecture. During the lecture, Frankl told the imaginary audience about the day he was in that field being beaten and was certain he didn't have the strength to get up and keep walking. Then, wonder of wonders, he told his imagined audience, he was able to stand up. The guard stopped beating him and get began to walk slowly. As he was imagining describing this to his audience, his body got up and began to walk. He continued to imagine this lecture all the while he was doing the work and through the cold march back to the death comp. He collapsed into his narrow bed, imagining ending this brilliantly clear speech and receiving a standing ovation.
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Hamlet was naturally very upset by what he had done to Ponius. After all,the young prince was at heart a kind and gentle person. But he had more important things on his mind. He dropped his bloody sword and began admonishing his mother once again.He held up two drawings in front of her. One was of the late king,his father.The other was of Claudius.“Mother,"placeed Hamlet,“can't you see the difference? You must be able to see what a good man my father was,and what a villain your new husband is!" But at that moment,the old ghost reappeared out of nowhere.“Hamlet,"it said in the same eerie voice,“have you forgotten that you gave me your word? Why are you causing your mother so much agony? And why are you still hesitating? Get on with it!" Hamlet started to explain himself,but the ghost vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
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Andrew Blackman had been a keen rugby player ever since he was a schoolboy. Of course he had received plenty of injuries over the year, but eveyone knew it was a tough sport. You might even say a little pain was all part of the fun. The fun ended one day in autumn when he was carried away from the field unconscious. It had been a particularly hard match. Ron Sullivan,a forward on the other team, had been tacking very aggressively and pushing too early in the scrums. At times the referee,Mr Simmonds,had great difficulty in controlling the play. Suddenly ten players had collapsed on top of Andrew during a scrum and the next thing he renembered was when he was in hospital unable to feel his legs. Eventually doctors broke the news to him: his lower body was permannently paralysed. He would never walk again,let alone play rugby. Even worse,he would have to give up his job. When he recovered from the shock Andrew decided to do something about his situation. To be sure rugby was a violent game,but he left there was no excuse for an injury such as his. In his opinion both Sullivan and Simmonds had behaved irresponsibly and he decided to sue them for negligence. Many of his fellow players were surprised by his decision. Of course they felt very sorry for Andrew. No one could doubt that he had been unlucky. But if you play a violent sport you have to accept risks. No one could be blamed for his unfortunate accident. Surely the court would not penalise Sullivan or Simmonds.
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和訳お願いします I flew downstairs and turned around as if on a stage,posing and smiling,modeling my new coat for my father who was paying attention to me and telling me how pretty I looked. then he said he wanted me to model the hat,too. “No,Daddy,I just want to show you the coat. Just look at the coat on me!” I said,still swimming around the hallway and trying to avoid the subject of the missing hat. I knew the hat was history. He was giggling,and I thought I was cute and loved because he was laughing and playing with me. We went around a couple times about the hat,and in the middle of his laugh,he slapped me. He slapped me hard on the face, and I didn't understand why. At the sharp sound of his hand on my face,my mother shouted,“Mike! What are you doing! What are you doing ! ”She was breathless and surprised. His anger pierced both my mother and me. I just stood there holding my hand to my burning cheek,crying. And then he took my new hat out of his coat pocket.
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I've heard about the way that you women paint your faces.God has given you one face, but you paint another face on yourselves. You dance when you walk. You sing when you speak.You want men to believe that you know nothing. I've had enough of it. It's made me crazy.No more talk about marriage. Join a church! Oh,how can a great man fall so low? A prince,a student,a soldier,the flower of his country, the mirror of everyone's dreamsーall gone! He was so brave, clever and beautiful. He was the most perfect of men. He filled my ears with the sweet music of his promises. But now he fills them with the crazy worlds of a broken mind. Oh, why did this terrible thing have to happen?
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Its so hard to listen to a tribute of MJ and not get just a little emotional. MJs music was just so special. He put his heart into so much of his work and you can feel it. His music influenced so many artists....you can see the looks of the faces of the people in the audience. サイトのコメント欄で見たのですが訳が何となくしか分かりません。できれば訳をご教授お願いします。MJというのはマイケルジャクソンの事です
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A turn in the wheel of fortune came for Machiavelli. With Spain's assistance, the Medicis overthrew the republic and restored their rule in Florence.Machiavelli was discharged, imprisoned,tortured, and finally banished to his small country estate near San Cascano. There, except for brief periods, he remained in retirement untill his death in 1527. His principal pastime during those, to him,long dull years was writing: The Prince, The Discourses,The Art of War,and the History of Florence-all primarily concerned with politics, ancient and contemporary. Any sentiment in Machiavelli's nature in relation to public affairs is hard to detect, but on one matter he felt deeply. He was a genuine patriot with an ardent longing for a strong, united Italy. He might be a cold, skeptical observer, a cynical man of pure intellect, untill he discussed Italian unity, and then he became inspired with passion, eloquence, warmth, and life. Italy's condition in the early, sixteen century was sad enough to make any patriot weep.
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以下の英文を和訳していただけるかたに。 お願いできますでしょうか？ 変な箇所があればご指摘いただけるとありがたいです。 どうぞよろしくお願いいたします。 In the period before you meet he may have suffered some ill health. and conditions in his life have been uncertain and subject to frequent change and indecision on his part. He will have put emotional barriers up between himself and others in this period. Or else will feel he was imprisoned without walls, that circumstance have imprison him, he has a life that he seeks escape from. He is sensitive to atmospheres, unspoken hostilities His outer confidence will hide a feeling of weakness and helplessness. and falling in love with you may be a form of escape from the things in his life he is unhappy with. Love will provide him with a kind of liberty, freedom, while he is tied to the limitations and responsibilities of his former existence.
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- 和訳お願いします The Tigress and
Proudfoot, a tiger, became tired of his mate, Sabra, a few weeks after they had set up housekeeping, and he fell to leaving home earlier and earlier in the morning, and returning later and later at night. He no longer called her “Sugar Paw,” or anything else, but merely clapped his paws when he wanted anything, or, if she was upstairs, whistled. The last long speech he ever made to her at breakfast was “What the hell’s the matter with you? I bring you rice and peas and coconut oil, don’t I? Love is something you put away in the attic with your wedding dress. Forget it.” And he finished his coffee, put down the Jungle News, and started for the door. “Where are you going?” Sabra asked. “Out,” he said. And after that, every time she asked him where he was going, he said, “Out,” or “Away,” or “Hush.” When Sabra became aware of the coming of what would have been, had she belonged to the chosen species, a blessed event, and told Proudfoot about it, he snarled, “Growp.” He had now learned to talk to his mate in code, and “growp” meant “I hope the cubs grow up to be xylophone players or major generals.” Then he went away, as all male tigers do at such a moment, for he did not want to be bothered by his young until the males were old enough to box with and the females old enough to insult. While waiting for the unblessed event to take place, he spent his time fighting water buffaloes and riding around with plainclothes tigers in a prowl car. When he finally came home, he said to his mate, “Eeps,” meaning “I’m going to hit the sack, and if the kids keep me awake by yowling, I’ll drown them like so many common house kittens.” Sabra stalked to the front door of their house, opened it, and said to her mate, “Scat.” The fight that took place was terrible but brief. Proudfoot led with the wrong paw, was nailed with the swiftest right cross in the jungle, and never really knew where he was after that. The next morning, when the cubs, male and female, tumbled eagerly down the stairs demanding to know what they could do, their mother said, “You can go in the parlor and play with your father. He’s the tiger rug just in front of the fireplace. I hope you’ll like him.” The children loved him. MORAL: Never be mean to a tiger’s wife, especially if you’re the tiger.
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