我们也许是最后一代还在受着思乡之苦的美国人——回忆那虽模糊却真实的家乡里度过的岁月。
Ours may be the last generation of Americans to sufferfor return — to remember events that took place when place stillmattered.
主人公忙于撰写自己的回忆录,住在美国出版商出借的玻璃钢铁结构房子里。
He is meant to be keeping busy writing his memoirs in an imposing glass-and-steel house lent to him by his American publisher.
许多尽管仍被认为是农民的城镇居民,现在已经成了经理级人物,住在充满回忆的美国郊区似的两层小楼里。
Many townspeople, although still classified as peasants, are now managers, living in two-storey houses on landscaped lots reminiscent of the American suburbs.
So, so far the American landscape is already a work of art, already part of a European memory. Then something else happens: "But gradually the models of those elementary rusticities became stranger and stranger to the eye, the nearer I came to know them.
至此关于美国景色的回忆已经是一件艺术品了,已经包含一部分欧洲记忆,之后发生了一些事:,然而渐渐地,我越熟悉那些田园风光的基本模式,越看它们越觉得陌生。
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