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Of course a miracle may happen, and you may be a great painter, but you must confess the chances are a million to one against it. It'll be an awful sell if at the end you have to acknowledge you've made a hash of it.
“当然了，也许会发生奇迹，你也许会成为一个大画家。但你必须承认，这种可能性是微乎其微的。假如到头来你不得不承认把事情搞得一塌糊涂，你就后悔莫及了。”
I've got to paint, he repeated.
“我必须画画儿，”他又重复了一句。
Supposing you're never anything more than third-rate, do you think it will have been worth while to give up everything? After all, in any other walk in life it doesn't matter if you're not very good; you can get along quite comfortably if you're just adequate; but it's different with an artist.
“假如你最多只能成为一个三流画家，你是不是还认为值得把一切都抛弃掉呢？不管怎么说，其他各行各业，假如你才不出众，并没有多大关系；只要还能过得去，你就能够舒舒服服地过日子；但是当一个艺术家完全是另一码事。”
You blasted fool, he said.
“你他妈的真是个傻瓜。”他说。
I don't see why, unless it's folly to say the obvious.
“我不知道你为什么这么说，除非我这样把最明显的道理说出来是在干傻事。”
I tell you I've got to paint. I can't help myself. When a man falls into the water it doesn't matter how he swims, well or badly: he's got to get out or else he'll drown.
“我告诉你我必须画画儿。我由不了我自己。一个人要是跌进水里，他游泳游得好不好是无关紧要的，反正他得挣扎出去，不然就得淹死。”
There was real passion in his voice, and in spite of myself I was impressed. I seemed to feel in him some vehement power that was struggling within him; it gave me the sensation of something very strong, overmastering, that held him, as it were, against his will. I could not understand. He seemed really to be possessed of a devil, and I felt that it might suddenly turn and rend him. Yet he looked ordinary enough. My eyes, resting on him curiously, caused him no embarrassment. I wondered what a stranger would have taken him to be, sitting there in his old Norfolk jacket and his unbrushed bowler; his trousers were baggy, his hands were not clean; and his face, with the red stubble of the unshaved chin, the little eyes, and the large, aggressive nose, was uncouth and coarse. His mouth was large, his lips were heavy and sensual. No; I could not have placed him.
他的语音里流露着一片热诚，我不由自主地被他感动了。我好象感觉到一种猛烈的力量正在他身体里面奋力挣扎；我觉得这种力量非常强大，压倒一切，仿佛违拗着他自己的意志，并把他紧紧抓在手中。我理解不了。他似乎真的让魔鬼附体了，我觉得他可能一下子被那东西撕得粉碎。但是从表面上看，他却平平常常。我的眼睛好奇地盯着他，他却一点也不感到难为情。他坐在那里，穿着一件破旧的诺弗克上衣，戴着顶早就该拂拭的圆顶帽，我真不知道一个陌生人会把他当做什么人。他的裤腿象两只口袋，手并不很干净，下巴上全是红胡子茬，一对小眼睛，撅起的大鼻头，脸相又笨拙又粗野。他的嘴很大，厚厚的嘴唇给人以耽于色欲的感觉。不成，我无法判定他是怎样一类人。
You won't go back to your wife? I said at last.
“你不准备回到你妻子那里去了？”最后我开口说。
Never.
“永远不回去了。”
She's willing to forget everything that's happened and start afresh. She'll never make you a single reproach.
“她可是愿意把发生的这些事全都忘掉，一切从头开始。她一句话也不责备你。”
She can go to hell.
“让她见鬼去吧！”
You don't care if people think you an utter blackguard? You don't care if she and your children have to beg their bread?
“你不在乎别人把你当做个彻头彻尾的坏蛋吗？你不在乎你的妻子儿女去讨饭吗？”
Not a damn.
“一点也不在乎。”
I was silent for a moment in order to give greater force to my next remark. I spoke as deliberately as I could.
我沉默了一会儿，为了使我底下这句话有更大的力量。我故意把一个个的字吐得真真切切。
You are a most unmitigated cad.
“你是个不折不扣的混蛋。”
Now that you've got that off your chest, let's go and have dinner.
“成了，你现在把压在心上的话已经说出来了，咱们可以去吃饭了。”
