Did it change into the cry of the wind, plaintive at first, angrily shrill as it freshened, rising to a tearing whistle, sinking to a musical trickle of air from the leech of the bellying sail?

这话音似又变成了风声，开始是呜咽悲鸣，随后逐渐转强，变成咆哮怒吼，又越升越高，成了撕心裂肺的尖叫，然后又渐渐降低，成了满帆边缘在空气里振动的悦耳的颤音。

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The movie jumps ahead in short, spiky scenes, punctuated by beautifully edited montages of digitized photographs and newspaper articles, and by Mara, head down in the wind, tearing through Sweden on a motorcycle like well, like a bat out of hell.

NEWYORKER: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo