“《英语世界》杯”征文及翻译比赛启事

《英语世界》创刊于1981年，近三十来，该刊一直刊载地道纯正的英语美文，配以流畅标准的汉语译文，让英语爱好者增长知识，陶冶情操的同时，为广大翻译实践者提供了一方晒秀译文的天地。

盛大文学榕树下网站是中国最早出现的文学网站，影响巨大，培养出中国第一代网络作家。2009年12月，榕树下重新上线，以文学为主，积极扩展，兼容并包，现致力于打造中国最有影响的文化门户。

今次，期刊界具有传统影响力的杂志携手网络文学界的新锐力量，共同举办“榕树下《英语世界》杯”征文竞赛及翻译比赛，挖掘网络写手，探寻翻译之星。

一、活动内容

1、征文：中国人写英文，外国人写中文，体裁不限，题目自拟。

2、翻译比赛：本次比赛为英汉翻译比赛，参赛原文发布于《英语世界》2010年第5期和榕树下英语频道网站。

3、要求：

（1） 参赛者年龄不限。

（2） 征文、译文均须独立完成，不接受合著、合译，杜绝抄袭。请参赛者在本次竞赛截稿之日前妥善保存参赛稿件，勿在书报刊、网络等任何媒体公布参赛文稿，否则将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，一式两份。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、职业、通信地址、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：2010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：登陆榕树下《英语世界》杯征文专题进行投稿。网址：www.rongshuxia.com。投稿频道为生活频道，栏目为“Comments”。并请在文章题目前注明“《英语世界》杯征文”字样。

2、邮寄投稿：

（1）“征文”主题寄至：北京市朝阳区光华路7号汉威大厦1706 (100004) 海外部（收）或发送到电子邮箱：sdloverseas@snda.com。

（2）“翻译比赛”主题寄至：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；或发送至电子邮箱：wewecp@sina.com；请在信封上或主题栏标明“参赛译文”字样。

三、奖项设置：

所有投稿将由《英语世界》和榕树下组织专家进行评审，设一、二、三等奖及鼓励奖。一、二、三等奖获奖者将颁发奖金、证书和纪念品，鼓励奖获奖者将颁发证书和纪念品；两组比赛，分别评奖；《英语世界》将于2010年第10期公布竞赛评审结果。2011年初，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：

为办好本次翻译竞赛，保证此项赛事的公平、公正，我们成立了比赛组委会，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。

附翻译原文

 

 

Plutoria Avenue

By Stephen Leacock

The Mausoleum Club stands on the quietest corner of the best residential street in the city. It is a Grecian building of white stone. Above it are great elm-trees with birds―the most expensive kind of birds―singing in the branches.

The street in the softer hours of the morning has an almost reverential quiet. Great motors move drowsily along it, with solitary chauffeurs returning at 10.30 after conveying the earlier of the millionaires to their down-town offices. The sunlight flickers through the elm-trees, illuminating expensive nursemaids wheeling valuable children in little perambulators. Some of the children are worth millions and millions. In Europe, no doubt, you may see in the Unter den Linden Avenue or the Champs Elysées a little prince or princess go past with a chattering military guard to do honour. But that is nothing. It is not half so impressive, in the real sense, as what you may observe every morning on

Plutoria Avenue

beside the Mausoleum Club in the quietest part of the city. Here you may see a little toddling princess in a rabbit suit who owns fifty distilleries in her own right. There, in a lacquered perambulator, sails past a little hooded head that controls from its cradle an entire New Jersey corporation. The United States attorney-general is suing her as she sits, in a vain attempt to make her dissolve herself into constituent companies. Nearby is a child of four, in a khaki suit, who represents the merger of two trunk line railways. You may meet in the flickered sunlight any number of little princes and princesses far more real than the poor survivals of Europe. Incalculable infants wave their fifty-dollar ivory rattles in an inarticulate greeting to one another. A million dollars of preferred stock laughs merrily in recognition of a majority control going past in a go-cart drawn by an imported nurse. And through it all the sunlight falls through the elm-trees, and the birds sing and the motors hum, so that the whole world as seen from the boulevard of

Plutoria Avenue

is the very pleasantest place imaginable.

Just below

Plutoria Avenue

, and parallel with it, the trees die out and the brick and stone of the city begins in earnest. Even from the avenue you see the tops of the sky-scraping buildings in the big commercial streets and can hear or almost hear the roar of the elevated railway, earning dividends. And beyond that again the city sinks lower, and is choked and crowded with the tangled streets and little houses of the slums.

In fact, if you were to mount to the roof of the Mausoleum Club itself on

Plutoria Avenue

you could almost see the slums from there. But why should you? And on the other hand, if you never went up on the roof, but only dined inside among the palm-trees, you would never know that the slums existed―which is much better.

Arcadian Adventures with the Idle Rich, 1914

(From John Gross (ed.), The New Oxford Book of English Prose. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998. P p. 670-671)