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经典名句-英文：Keep faith is a treasure, should not arbitrarily throw.
经典名句-译文：守信是一项财宝，不应该随意虚掷。
2021考研英语阅读:百年孤独第13章-10
During those days José Arcadio Segun-do reappeared in the house. He went along the porch without greeting anyone and he shut himself up in the workshop to talk to the colonel. In spite of the fact that she could not see him, úrsula analyzed the clicking of his foreman's boots and was surprised at the unbridgeable distance that separated him from the family, even from the twin brother with whom he had played ingenious games of confusion in childhood and with whom he no longer had any traits in common. He was linear, solemn, and had a pensive air and the sadness of a Saracen and a mournful glow on his face that was the color of autumn. He was the one who most resembled his mother, Santa Sofía de la Piedad. úrsula reproached herself for the habit of forgetting about him when she spoke about the family, but when she sensed him in the house again and noticed that the colonel let him into the workshop during working hours, she reexamined her old memories and confirmed the belief that at some moment in childhood he had changed places with his twin brother, because it was he and not the other one who should have been called Aureli-ano. No one knew the details of his life. At one time it was discovered that he had no fixed abode, that he raised fighting cocks at Pilar Ternera's house and that sometimes he would stay there to sleep but that he almost always spent the night in the rooms of the French matrons. He drifted about, with no ties of affection, with no ambitions, like a wandering star in úrsula's planetary system.
这时，霍·阿卡蒂奥第二重新出现在家里。他跟谁也不打招呼，就走到长廊尽头，钻到作坊里去跟上校谈话。乌苏娜已经看不见他，可是分辨得出他那监工的靴子发出的啪哒声，他跟家庭、甚至跟孪生兄弟之间不可逾越的距离使她感到诧异;
In reality, José Arcadio Segun-do was not a member of the family, nor would he ever be of any other since that distant dawn when Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez took him to the barracks, not so that he could see an execution, but so that for the rest of his life he would never forget the sad and somewhat mocking smile of the man being shot. That was not only his oldest memory, but the only one he had of his childhood. The other one, that of an old man with an old-fashioned vest and a hat with a brim like a crow's wings who told him marvelous things framed in a dazzling window, he was unable to place in any period. It was an uncertain memory, entirely devoid of lessons or nostalgia, the opposite of the memory of the executed man, which had really set the direction of his life and would return to his memory clearer and dearer as he grew older, as if the passage of time were bringing him closer to it. úrsula tried to use José Arcadio Segun-do to get Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía. to give up his imprisonment. "Get him to go to the movies," she said to him. "Even if he doesn't like the picture, as least he'll breathe a little fresh air." But it did not take her long to realize that he was as insensible to her begging as the colonel would have been, and that they were armored by the same impermeability of affection. Although she never knew, nor did anyone know, what they spoke about in their prolonged sessions shut up in the workshop, she understood that they were probably the only members of the family who seemed drawn together by some affinity.
儿童时代他曾跟孪生兄弟玩弄换装把戏，现在两人都没有一点共同之处了。霍·阿卡蒂奥第二又高又瘦，举止傲慢，黝黑的脸庞上有一种晦暗的光彩，神态犹如萨拉秦人(注：萨拉秦人，古代阿拉伯游牧民族)那么阴郁。他更象自己的母亲圣索菲娅·德拉佩德，而不象布恩蒂亚家的人，乌苏娜有时谈起家庭，甚至忘了提到他的名字，虽然她也责备自己。她发现霍。阿卡蒂奥第二重新回到家里，上校在作坊里干活时接见他，她就反复忆起了往事，确信霍·阿卡蒂奥第二童年时代跟孪生兄弟换了位置，正是他而不是孪生兄弟应当叫做奥雷连诺。谁也不知道他的详情。有一段时间大家知道，他没有固定的住所，在皮拉·苔列娜家中饲养斗鸡，有时就在她那儿睡觉，然而其他的夜晚几乎都是在法国艺妓的卧室里度过的。他随波逐流，没有什么眷恋，也没有什么志气——仿佛是乌苏娜行星系中的一颗流星。
The truth is that not even José Arcadio Segun-do would have been able to draw the colonel out of his confinement. The invasion of schoolgirls had lowered the limits of his patience. With the pretext that his wedding bedroom was at the mercy of the moths in spite of the destruction of Remedios' appetizing dolls, he hung a hammock in the workshop and then he would leave it only to go into the courtyard to take care of his necessities. úrsula was unable to string together even a trivial conversation with him. She knew that he did not look at the dishes of food but would put them at one end of his workbench while he finished a little fish and it did not matter to him if the soup curdled or if the meat got cold. He grew harder and harder ever since Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez refused to back him up in a senile war. He locked himself up inside himself and the family finally thought of him is if he were dead. No other human reaction was seen in him until one October eleventh, when he went to the. street door to watch a circus parade. For Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía it had been a day just like all those of his last years. At five o'clock in the morning the noise of the toads and crickets outside the wall woke him up. The drizzle had persisted since Saturday and there was no necessity for him to hear their tiny whispering among the leaves of the garden because he would have felt the cold in his bones in any case. He was, as always, wrapped in his woolen blanket and wearing his crude cotton long drawers, which he still wore for comfort, even though because of their musty, old-fashioned style he called them his "Goth drawers." He put on his tight pants but did not button them up, nor did he put the gold button into his shirt collar as he always did, because he planned to take a bath. Then he put the blanket over his head like a cowl. brushed his dripping mustache with his fingers, and went to urinate in the courtyard. There was still so much time left for the sun to come out that José Arcadio Buendía was still dozing under the shelter of palm fronds that had been rotted by the rain. He did not see him, as he had never seen him, nor did he hear the incomprehensible phrase that the ghost of his father addressed to him as he awakened, startled by the stream of hot urine that splattered his shoes. He put the bath off for later, not because of the cold and the dampness, but because of the oppressive October mist. On his way back to the workshop he noticed the odor of the wick that Santa Sofía de la Piedad was using to light the stoves, and he waited in the kitchen for the coffee to boil so that he could take along his mug without sugar. Santa Sofía de la Piedad asked him, as on every morning, what day of the week it was, and he answered that it was Tuesday, October eleventh. Watching the glow of the fire as it gilded the persistent woman who neither then nor in any instant of her life seemed to exist completely, he suddenly remembered that on one October eleventh in the middle of the war he had awakened with the brutal certainty that the woman with whom he had slept was dead. She really was and he could not forget the date because she had asked him an hour before what day it was. In spite of the memory he did not have an awareness this time either of to what degree his omens had abandoned him and while the coffee was boiling he kept on thinking out of pure curiosity but without the slightest risk of nostalgia about the woman whose name he had never known and whose face he had not seen because she had stumbled to his hammock in the dark. Nevertheless, in the emptiness of so many women who came into his life in the same way, he did not remember that she was the one who in the delirium of that first meeting was on the point of foundering in her own tears and scarcely an hour before her death had sworn to love him until she died. He did not think about her again or about any of the others after he went into the workshop with the steaming cup, and he lighted the lamp in order to count the little gold fishes, which he kept in a tin pail. There were seventeen of them. Since he had decided not to sell any, he kept on making two fishes a day and when he finished twenty-five he would melt them down and start all over again. He worked all morning, absorbed, without thinking about anything, without realizing that at ten o'clock the rain had grown stronger and someone ran past the workshop shouting to close the doors before the house was flooded, and without thinking even about himself until úrsula came in with his lunch and turned out the light.
实际上，霍。 阿卡蒂奥第二已经不是自己家庭里的人，也不可能成为其他任何一个家庭的成员，这是很久以前的一个早上开始的，当时格林列尔多。 马克斯上校带他到兵营去——并不是为了让他看看行刑，而是为了让他一辈子记住处决犯悲哀的、有点儿滑稽的微笑。这不仅是他最早的回忆，也是他童年时代的回忆。他还记得的就是一个老头儿的形象，那老头儿穿着旧式坎肩，戴着帽檐活象乌鸦翅膀的帽子，曾在亮晃晃的窗子跟前给他讲述各种奇异的事儿。可是，霍·阿卡蒂奥第二记不得这是什么时候的事了。这件往事是朦胧的，在他心中没有留下痛苦之感，也没给他什么教益，前一件往事却不相同，实际上确定了他一生的方向，而且他越老，那件往事就越清楚，仿佛时间过得越久，那件往事离他就越近。乌苏娜打算通过霍。 阿卡蒂奥第二，使奥雷连诺上校从禁锢中脱身出来。“劝他去看看电影吧，”她向霍·阿卡蒂奥第二说，“即使他不喜欢电影，哪怕呼吸一点儿新鲜空气也好嘛。”但她很快发现，霍。 阿卡蒂奥第二象奥雷连诺上校一样，对她的恳求无动于衷，两人都有同样的“甲胃”，任何感情都是透不过它的。尽管乌苏娜不知道，而且也不知道，他俩关在作坊里长时间谈些什么，但她明白全家只有这两个人是由内在的密切关系连在一
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