在成功举办首届“《英语世界》杯”翻译大赛之后，《英语世界》杂志社将联合南开大学、中国翻译协会社科翻译委员会、四川省翻译协会共同举办第二届“《英语世界》杯”翻译大赛。今后，我们拟将此项赛事办成每年一届的活动，以激发英语爱好者的翻译热情，给力英语学习，探寻翻译之星。诚愿此项赛事真正成为翻译爱好者晒秀佳译的一方天地。

一、活动内容

1. 竞赛形式：本次竞赛为英汉翻译，参赛原文附后，亦可点击商务印书馆网站（http://www.cp.com.cn/）。

2. 参赛要求：

（1）参赛者年龄不限。

（2）译文须独立完成，不接受合作译稿。请参赛者在本次竞赛截稿之日前妥善保存参赛稿件，勿在报刊、网络等任何媒体公布参赛文稿，否则将被取消参赛资格并承担由此造成的一切后果。

（3）第一次投稿有效，不接收修改后另投稿件。

（4）参赛投稿请用电脑打印（A4纸）或用稿纸（有单位名称抬头的稿纸无效）誊写清楚。打印稿统一用Word中宋体，小四号字排版。译文前加一封面，填写参赛者信息，包括姓名、出生年月日、性别、工作单位、通信地址、邮编、电话、电子邮箱。投稿正文内请勿书写参赛者个人信息，否则将视为无效投稿。

（5）截稿日期：2011年7月20日，网络投稿以投稿日为准，信件以寄出日邮戳为准。

二、投稿方式

1. 网上投稿： 邮箱wewecp@sina.com。请在主题栏标明“参赛译文”字样。

2. 邮寄投稿： 北京朝阳区朝外大街吉庆里小区9号楼E-2-1005室 《英语世界》编辑部(邮编： 100020)。请在信封上标明“参赛译文”字样。

三、奖项设置：

所有投稿将由《英语世界》、南开大学和中国翻译协会社科翻译委员会共同组织专家进行评审，设一、二、三等奖及优秀奖。一、二、三等奖获奖者将颁发奖金、证书和纪念品，优秀奖获奖者将颁发证书和纪念品；《英语世界》将于2011年第10期公布竞赛评审结果，并择机举行颁奖典礼，竞赛获奖者将受邀参加颁奖典礼。

四、联系方式：

为办好本次翻译大赛，保证此项赛事的公平、公正，我们成立了竞赛组委会，负责整个竞赛活动的组织、实施和评审工作。组委会办公室设在《英语世界》编辑部，电话/传真：010-65539242。

 

 

《英语世界》杂志社

2011年5月

 

 

 

【翻译比赛原文】

His First Day as Quarry-Boy

By Hugh Miller (1802～1856)

It was twenty years last February since I set out, a little before sunrise, to make my first acquaintance with a life of labour and restraint; and I have rarely had a heavier heart than on that morning. I was but a slim, loose-jointed boy at the time, fond of the pretty intangibilities of romance, and of dreaming when broad awake; and, woful change! I was now going to work at what Burns has instanced, in his ‘Twa Dogs’, as one of the most disagreeable of all employments,—to work in a quarry. Bating the passing uneasinesses occasioned by a few gloomy anticipations, the portion of my life which had already gone by had been happy beyond the common lot. I had been a wanderer among rocks and woods, a reader of curious books when I could get them, a gleaner of old traditionary stories; and now I was going to exchange all my day-dreams, and all my amusements, for the kind of life in which men toil every day that they may be enabled to eat, and eat every day that they may be enabled to toil!

The quarry in which I wrought lay on the southern shore of a noble inland bay, or frith rather, with a little clear stream on the one side, and a thick fir wood on the other. It had been opened in the Old Red Sandstone of the district, and was overtopped by a huge bank of diluvial clay, which rose over it in some places to the height of nearly thirty feet, and which at this time was rent and shivered, wherever it presented an open front to the weather, by a recent frost. A heap of loose fragments, which had fallen from above, blocked up the face of the quarry and my first employment was to clear them away. The friction of the shovel soon blistered my hands, but the pain was by no means very severe, and I wrought hard and willingly, that I might see how the huge strata below, which presented so firm and unbroken a frontage, were to be torn up and removed. Picks, and wedges, and levers, were applied by my brother-workmen; and, simple and rude as I had been accustomed to regard these implements, I found I had much to learn in the way of using them. They all proved inefficient, however, and the workmen had to bore into one of the inferior strata, and employ gunpowder. The process was new to me, and I deemed it a highly amusing one: it had the merit, too, of being attended with some such degree of danger as a boating or rock excursion, and had thus an interest independent of its novelty. We had a few capital shots: the fragments flew in every direction; and an immense mass of the diluvium came toppling down, bearing with it two dead birds, that in a recent storm had crept into one of the deeper fissures, to die in the shelter. I felt a new interest in examining them. The one was a pretty cock goldfinch, with its hood of vermilion and its wings inlaid with the gold to which it owes its name, as unsoiled and smooth as if it had been preserved for a museum. The other, a somewhat rarer bird, of the woodpecker tribe, was variegated with light blue and a grayish yellow. I was engaged in admiring the poor little things, more disposed to be sentimental, perhaps, than if I had been ten years older, and thinking of the contrast between the warmth and jollity of their green summer haunts, and the cold and darkness of their last retreat, when I heard our employer bidding the workmen lay by their tools. I looked up and saw the sun sinking behind the thick fir wood beside us, and the long dark shadows of the trees stretching downward towards the shore.             —Old Red Sandstone

(文章选自THE OXFORD BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE, 658-660, Oxford University Press, London, first published 1925, reprinted 1958.)