管风琴又吼出滚滚巨雷,激越的轰鸣把空气化成音乐,翻腾向前,叩击人们的心灵。
Again the pealing organ heaves its thrilling thunders, compressing air into music, and rolling it forth upon the soul. What long-drawn cadences!
它们叩击布满铁锈,为惯性驱动的现实,也叩击布满铁锈,为功利所遮蔽的心灵。
They hammer on the rusting reality, which is driven by its inertia, and the rusting human souls, which are prompted by utility.
它们叩击布满铁锈,为惯性驱动的现实,也叩击布满铁锈,为功利所遮蔽的心灵。
They hammer on the rusting reality, which is driven by its inertia, and the rusting human souls, which are prompted by utility.
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