"God willing," I replied devoutly2, "we are on our way to see an eighth wonder of the world-a woman saint whose diet is thin air!"
"Repetition of wonders-after Therese Neumann." But Mr. Wright laughed eagerly just the same; he even accelerated the speed of the car. More extraordinary grist for his travel diary! Not one of an average tourist, that!
The Ranchi school had just been left behind us; we had risen before the sun. Besides my secretary and myself, three Bengali friends were in the party. We drank in the exhilarating air, the natural wine of the morning. Our driver guided the car warily3 among the early peasants and the two-wheeled carts, slowly drawn4 by yoked5, hump-shouldered bullocks, inclined to dispute the road with a honking6 interloper.
"Sir, we would like to know more of the fasting saint."
"Her name is Giri Bala," I informed my companions. "I first heard about her years ago from a scholarly gentleman, Sthiti Lal Nundy. He often came to the Gurpar Road home to tutor my brother Bishnu."
"'I know Giri Bala well,' Sthiti Babu told me. 'She employs a certain yoga technique which enables her to live without eating. I was her close neighbor in Nawabganj near Ichapur. 46-1 I made it a point to watch her closely; never did I find evidence that she was taking either food or drink. My interest finally mounted so high that I approached the Maharaja of Burdwan 46-2 and asked him to conduct an investigation7. Astounded8 at the story, he invited her to his palace. She agreed to a test and lived for two months locked up in a small section of his home. Later she returned for a palace visit of twenty days; and then for a third test of fifteen days. The Maharaja himself told me that these three rigorous scrutinies9 had convinced him beyond doubt of her non-eating state.'
"This story of Sthiti Babu's has remained in my mind for over twenty- five years," I concluded. "Sometimes in America I wondered if the river of time would not swallow the yogini 46-3 before I could meet her. She must be quite aged10 now. I do not even know where, or if, she lives. But in a few hours we shall reach Purulia; her brother has a home there."
By ten-thirty our little group was conversing11 with the brother, Lambadar Dey, a lawyer of Purulia.
"Yes, my sister is living. She sometimes stays with me here, but at present she is at our family home in Biur." Lambadar Babu glanced doubtfully at the Ford. "I hardly think, Swamiji, that any automobile12 has ever penetrated14 into the interior as far as Biur. It might be best if you all resign yourselves to the ancient jolt15 of the bullock cart!"
"The Ford comes from America," I told the lawyer. "It would be a shame to deprive it of an opportunity to get acquainted with the heart of Bengal!"
"May Ganesh 46-4 go with you!" Lambadar Babu said, laughing. He added courteously19, "If you ever get there, I am sure Giri Bala will be glad to see you. She is approaching her seventies, but continues in excellent health."
"Please tell me, sir, if it is absolutely true that she eats nothing?" I looked directly into his eyes, those telltale windows of the mind.
giribala
GIRI BALA
This great woman yogi has not taken food or drink since 1880. I am pictured with her, in 1936, at her home in the isolated20 Bengal village of Biur. Her non-eating state has been rigorously investigated by the Maharaja of Burdwan. She employs a certain yoga technique to recharge her body with cosmic energy from the ether, sun, and air.
"It is true." His gaze was open and honorable. "In more than five decades I have never seen her eat a morsel21. If the world suddenly came to an end, I could not be more astonished than by the sight of my sister's taking food!"
"Giri Bala has never sought an inaccessible23 solitude24 for her yoga practices," Lambadar Babu went on. "She has lived her entire life surrounded by her family and friends. They are all well accustomed now to her strange state. Not one of them who would not be stupefied if Giri Bala suddenly decided25 to eat anything! Sister is naturally retiring, as befits a Hindu widow, but our little circle in Purulia and in Biur all know that she is literally26 an 'exceptional' woman."
The brother's sincerity27 was manifest. Our little party thanked him warmly and set out toward Biur. We stopped at a street shop for curry28 and luchis, attracting a swarm29 of urchins30 who gathered round to watch Mr. Wright eating with his fingers in the simple Hindu manner. 46-5 Hearty31 appetites caused us to fortify32 ourselves against an afternoon which, unknown at the moment, was to prove fairly laborious33.
Our way now led east through sun-baked rice fields into the Burdwan section of Bengal. On through roads lined with dense34 vegetation; the songs of the maynas and the stripe-throated bulbuls streamed out from trees with huge, umbrellalike branches. A bullock cart now and then, the rini, rini, manju, manju squeak35 of its axle and iron-shod wooden wheels contrasting sharply in mind with the swish, swish of auto13 tires over the aristocratic asphalt of the cities.
"Dick, halt!" My sudden request brought a jolting36 protest from the Ford. "That overburdened mango tree is fairly shouting an invitation!"
The five of us dashed like children to the mango-strewn earth; the tree had benevolently38 shed its fruits as they had ripened39.
"Full many a mango is born to lie unseen," I paraphrased40, "and waste its sweetness on the stony41 ground."
"Nothing like this in America, Swamiji, eh?" laughed Sailesh Mazumdar, one of my Bengali students.
"No," I admitted, covered with mango juice and contentment. "How I have missed this fruit in the West! A Hindu's heaven without mangoes is inconceivable!"
I picked up a rock and downed a proud beauty hidden on the highest limb.
"Dick," I asked between bites of ambrosia42, warm with the tropical sun, "are all the cameras in the car?"
"Yes, sir; in the baggage compartment43."
"If Giri Bala proves to be a true saint, I want to write about her in the West. A Hindu yogini with such inspiring powers should not live and die unknown-like most of these mangoes."
"Sir," Mr. Wright remarked, "we should reach Giri Bala before the sun sets, to have enough light for photographs." He added with a grin, "The Westerners are a skeptical45 lot; we can't expect them to believe in the lady without any pictures!"
This bit of wisdom was indisputable; I turned my back on temptation and reentered the car.
"You are right, Dick," I sighed as we sped along, "I sacrifice the mango paradise on the altar of Western realism. Photographs we must have!"
The road became more and more sickly: wrinkles of ruts, boils of hardened clay, the sad infirmities of old age! Our group dismounted occasionally to allow Mr. Wright to more easily maneuver46 the Ford, which the four of us pushed from behind.
"Lambadar Babu spoke47 truly," Sailesh acknowledged. "The car is not carrying us; we are carrying the car!"
Our climb-in, climb-out auto tedium48 was beguiled49 ever and anon by the appearance of a village, each one a scene of quaint18 simplicity50.
"Our way twisted and turned through groves51 of palms among ancient, unspoiled villages nestling in the forest shade," Mr. Wright has recorded in his travel diary, under date of May 5, 1936. "Very fascinating are these clusters of thatched mud huts, decorated with one of the names of God on the door; many small, naked children innocently playing about, pausing to stare or run wildly from this big, black, bullockless carriage tearing madly through their village. The women merely peep from the shadows, while the men lazily loll beneath the trees along the roadside, curious beneath their nonchalance53. In one place, all the villagers were gaily54 bathing in the large tank (in their garments, changing by draping dry cloths around their bodies, dropping the wet ones). Women bearing water to their homes, in huge brass55 jars.
"The road led us a merry chase over mount and ridge56; we bounced and tossed, dipped into small streams, detoured58 around an unfinished causeway, slithered across dry, sandy river beds and finally, about 5:00 P.M., we were close to our destination, Biur. This minute village in the interior of Bankura District, hidden in the protection of dense foliage59, is unapproachable by travelers during the rainy season, when the streams are raging torrents60 and the roads serpentlike spit the mud-venom.
"Asking for a guide among a group of worshipers on their way home from a temple prayer (out in the lonely field), we were besieged61 by a dozen scantily62 clad lads who clambered on the sides of the car, eager to conduct us to Giri Bala.
"The road led toward a grove52 of date palms sheltering a group of mud huts, but before we had reached it, the Ford was momentarily tipped at a dangerous angle, tossed up and dropped down. The narrow trail led around trees and tank, over ridges63, into holes and deep ruts. The car became anchored on a clump64 of bushes, then grounded on a hillock, requiring a lift of earth clods; on we proceeded, slowly and carefully; suddenly the way was stopped by a mass of brush in the middle of the cart track, necessitating65 a detour57 down a precipitous ledge16 into a dry tank, rescue from which demanded some scraping, adzing, and shoveling. Again and again the road seemed impassable, but the pilgrimage must go on; obliging lads fetched spades and demolished66 the obstacles (shades of Ganesh!) while hundreds of children and parents stared.
"Soon we were threading our way along the two ruts of antiquity67, women gazing wide-eyed from their hut doors, men trailing alongside and behind us, children scampering68 to swell69 the procession. Ours was perhaps the first auto to traverse these roads; the 'bullock cart union' must be omnipotent70 here! What a sensation we created-a group piloted by an American and pioneering in a snorting car right into their hamlet fastness, invading the ancient privacy and sanctity!
"Halting by a narrow lane we found ourselves within a hundred feet of Giri Bala's ancestral home. We felt the thrill of fulfillment after the long road struggle crowned by a rough finish. We approached a large, two-storied building of brick and plaster, dominating the surrounding adobe73 huts; the house was under the process of repair, for around it was the characteristically tropical framework of bamboos.
"With feverish74 anticipation75 and suppressed rejoicing we stood before the open doors of the one blessed by the Lord's 'hungerless' touch. Constantly agape were the villagers, young and old, bare and dressed, women aloof76 somewhat but inquisitive77 too, men and boys unabashedly at our heels as they gazed on this unprecedented78 spectacle.
"Soon a short figure came into view in the doorway-Giri Bala! She was swathed in a cloth of dull, goldish silk; in typically Indian fashion, she drew forward modestly and hesitatingly, peering slightly from beneath the upper fold of her swadeshi cloth. Her eyes glistened79 like smouldering embers in the shadow of her head piece; we were enamored by a most benevolent37 and kindly80 face, a face of realization81 and understanding, free from the taint82 of earthly attachment83.
"Meekly84 she approached and silently assented85 to our snapping a number of pictures with our 'still' and 'movie' cameras. 46-6 Patiently and shyly she endured our photo techniques of posture86 adjustment and light arrangement. Finally we had recorded for posterity87 many photographs of the only woman in the world who is known to have lived without food or drink for over fifty years. (Therese Neumann, of course, has fasted since 1923.) Most motherly was Giri Bala's expression as she stood before us, completely covered in the loose-flowing cloth, nothing of her body visible but her face with its downcast eyes, her hands, and her tiny feet. A face of rare peace and innocent poise-a wide, childlike, quivering lip, a feminine nose, narrow, sparkling eyes, and a wistful smile."
Mr. Wright's impression of Giri Bala was shared by myself; spirituality enfolded her like her gently shining veil. She pronamed before me in the customary gesture of greeting from a householder to a monk88. Her simple charm and quiet smile gave us a welcome beyond that of honeyed oratory89; forgotten was our difficult, dusty trip.
The little saint seated herself cross-legged on the verandah. Though bearing the scars of age, she was not emaciated90; her olive-colored skin had remained clear and healthy in tone.
"Mother," I said in Bengali, "for over twenty-five years I have thought eagerly of this very pilgrimage! I heard about your sacred life from Sthiti Lal Nundy Babu."
She nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes, my good neighbor in Nawabganj."
"During those years I have crossed the oceans, but I never forgot my early plan to someday see you. The sublime91 drama that you are here playing so inconspicuously should be blazoned92 before a world that has long forgotten the inner food divine."
"Baba (honored father) knows best," she answered meekly.
I was happy that she had taken no offense94; one never knows how great yogis or yoginis will react to the thought of publicity95. They shun96 it, as a rule, wishing to pursue in silence the profound soul research. An inner sanction comes to them when the proper time arrives to display their lives openly for the benefit of seeking minds.
"Mother," I went on, "please forgive me, then, for burdening you with many questions. Kindly answer only those that please you; I shall understand your silence, also."
She spread her hands in a gracious gesture. "I am glad to reply, insofar as an insignificant97 person like myself can give satisfactory answers."
"Oh, no, not insignificant!" I protested sincerely. "You are a great soul."
A strange pastime, I thought, for a non-eating saint!
"Tell me, Mother, from your own lips-do you live without food?"
"That is true." She was silent for a few moments; her next remark showed that she had been struggling with mental arithmetic. "From the age of twelve years four months down to my present age of sixty-eight- a period of over fifty-six years-I have not eaten food or taken liquids."
"If I felt a craving101 for food, I would have to eat." Simply yet regally she stated this axiomatic102 truth, one known too well by a world revolving103 around three meals a day!
"But you do eat something!" My tone held a note of remonstrance104.
"Of course!" She smiled in swift understanding.
"Your nourishment105 derives106 from the finer energies of the air and sunlight, 46-7 and from the cosmic power which recharges your body through the medulla oblongata."
"Mother, please tell me about your early life. It holds a deep interest for all of India, and even for our brothers and sisters beyond the seas."
"So be it." Her voice was low and firm. "I was born in these forest regions. My childhood was unremarkable save that I was possessed112 by an insatiable appetite. I had been betrothed113 in early years.
"'Child,' my mother often warned me, 'try to control your greed. When the time comes for you to live among strangers in your husband's family, what will they think of you if your days are spent in nothing but eating?'
"The calamity114 she had foreseen came to pass. I was only twelve when I joined my husband's people in Nawabganj. My mother-in-law shamed me morning, noon, and night about my gluttonous115 habits. Her scoldings were a blessing116 in disguise, however; they roused my dormant117 spiritual tendencies. One morning her ridicule118 was merciless.
"'I shall soon prove to you,' I said, stung to the quick, 'that I shall never touch food again as long as I live.'
"My mother-in-law laughed in derision. 'So!' she said, 'how can you live without eating, when you cannot live without overeating?'
"This remark was unanswerable! Yet an iron resolution scaffolded my spirit. In a secluded119 spot I sought my Heavenly Father.
"'Lord,' I prayed incessantly120, 'please send me a guru, one who can teach me to live by Thy light and not by food.'
"A divine ecstasy121 fell over me. Led by a beatific122 spell, I set out for the Nawabganj ghat on the Ganges. On the way I encountered the priest of my husband's family.
"'Venerable sir,' I said trustingly, 'kindly tell me how to live without eating.'
"He stared at me without reply. Finally he spoke in a consoling manner. 'Child,' he said, 'come to the temple this evening; I will conduct a special Vedic ceremony for you.'
"This vague answer was not the one I was seeking; I continued toward the ghat. The morning sun pierced the waters; I purified myself in the Ganges, as though for a sacred initiation123. As I left the river bank, my wet cloth around me, in the broad glare of day my master materialized himself before me!
"'Dear little one,' he said in a voice of loving compassion124, 'I am the guru sent here by God to fulfill72 your urgent prayer. He was deeply touched by its very unusual nature! From today you shall live by the astral light, your bodily atoms fed from the infinite current.'"
Giri Bala fell into silence. I took Mr. Wright's pencil and pad and translated into English a few items for his information.
The saint resumed the tale, her gentle voice barely audible. "The ghat was deserted125, but my guru cast round us an aura of guarding light, that no stray bathers later disturb us. He initiated126 me into a kria technique which frees the body from dependence127 on the gross food of mortals. The technique includes the use of a certain mantra 46-8 and a breathing exercise more difficult than the average person could perform. No medicine or magic is involved; nothing beyond the kria."
In the manner of the American newspaper reporter, who had unknowingly taught me his procedure, I questioned Giri Bala on many matters which I thought would be of interest to the world. She gave me, bit by bit, the following information:
"I have never had any children; many years ago I became a widow. I sleep very little, as sleep and waking are the same to me. I meditate128 at night, attending to my domestic duties in the daytime. I slightly feel the change in climate from season to season. I have never been sick or experienced any disease. I feel only slight pain when accidentally injured. I have no bodily excretions. I can control my heart and breathing. I often see my guru as well as other great souls, in vision."
"Mother," I asked, "why don't you teach others the method of living without food?"
My ambitious hopes for the world's starving millions were nipped in the bud.
"No." She shook her head. "I was strictly129 commanded by my guru not to divulge130 the secret. It is not his wish to tamper131 with God's drama of creation. The farmers would not thank me if I taught many people to live without eating! The luscious132 fruits would lie uselessly on the ground. It appears that misery133, starvation, and disease are whips of our karma which ultimately drive us to seek the true meaning of life."
"Mother," I said slowly, "what is the use of your having been singled out to live without eating?"
"To prove that man is Spirit." Her face lit with wisdom. "To demonstrate that by divine advancement134 he can gradually learn to live by the Eternal Light and not by food."
The saint sank into a deep meditative135 state. Her gaze was directed inward; the gentle depths of her eyes became expressionless. She gave a certain sigh, the prelude136 to the ecstatic breathless trance. For a time she had fled to the questionless realm, the heaven of inner joy.
The tropical darkness had fallen. The light of a small kerosene137 lamp flickered138 fitfully over the faces of a score of villagers squatting139 silently in the shadows. The darting140 glowworms and distant oil lanterns of the huts wove bright eerie141 patterns into the velvet142 night. It was the painful hour of parting; a slow, tedious journey lay before our little party.
"Giri Bala," I said as the saint opened her eyes, "please give me a keepsake-a strip of one of your saris."
She soon returned with a piece of Benares silk, extending it in her hand as she suddenly prostrated143 herself on the ground.
"Mother," I said reverently144, "rather let me touch your own blessed feet!"
46-1: In northern Bengal.
46-2: H. H. Sir Bijay Chand Mahtab, now dead. His family doubtless possesses some record of the Maharaja's three investigations145 of Giri Bala.
46-3: Woman yogi.
46-4: "Remover of Obstacles," the god of good fortune.
46-5: Sri Yukteswar used to say: "The Lord has given us the fruits of the good earth. We like to see our food, to smell it, to taste it- the Hindu likes also to touch it!" One does not mind hearing it, either, if no one else is present at the meal!
46-6: Mr. Wright also took moving pictures of Sri Yukteswar during his last Winter Solstice Festival in Serampore.
46-7: "What we eat is radiation; our food is so much quanta of energy," Dr. George W. Crile of Cleveland told a gathering146 of medical men on May 17, 1933 in Memphis. "This all-important radiation, which releases electrical currents for the body's electrical circuit, the nervous system, is given to food by the sun's rays. Atoms, Dr. Crile says, are solar systems. Atoms are the vehicles that are filled with solar radiance as so many coiled springs. These countless147 atomfuls of energy are taken in as food. Once in the human body, these tense vehicles, the atoms, are discharged in the body's protoplasm, the radiance furnishing new chemical energy, new electrical currents. 'Your body is made up of such atoms,' Dr. Crile said. 'They are your muscles, brains, and sensory148 organs, such as the eyes and ears.'"
Someday scientists will discover how man can live directly on solar energy. "Chlorophyll is the only substance known in nature that somehow possesses the power to act as a 'sunlight trap,'" William L. Laurence writes in the New York Times. "It 'catches' the energy of sunlight and stores it in the plant. Without this no life could exist. We obtain the energy we need for living from the solar energy stored in the plant-food we eat or in the flesh of the animals that eat the plants. The energy we obtain from coal or oil is solar energy trapped by the chlorophyll in plant life millions of years ago. We live by the sun through the agency of chlorophyll."
46-8: Potent71 vibratory chant. The literal translation of Sanskrit mantra is "instrument of thought," signifying the ideal, inaudible sounds which represent one aspect of creation; when vocalized as syllables149, a mantra constitutes a universal terminology150. The infinite powers of sound derive107 from AUM, the "Word" or creative hum of the Cosmic Motor.
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收听单词发音
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1
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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yoked
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| 结合（yoke的过去式形式） | |
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honking
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| v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的现在分词 ) | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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scrutinies
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| 细看，细查，监视( scrutiny的名词复数 ) | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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isolated
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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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curry
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| n.咖哩粉，咖哩饭菜；v.用咖哩粉调味，用马栉梳，制革 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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urchins
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| n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 )；淘气鬼；猬；海胆 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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fortify
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| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
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laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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benevolently
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| adv.仁慈地，行善地 | |
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ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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paraphrased
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| v.释义，意译( paraphrase的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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ambrosia
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| n.神的食物；蜂食 | |
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43
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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44
sylvan
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| adj.森林的 | |
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skeptical
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| adj.怀疑的，多疑的 | |
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46
maneuver
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| n.策略[pl.]演习；v.(巧妙)控制；用策略 | |
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47
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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48
tedium
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| n.单调；烦闷 | |
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49
beguiled
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| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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50
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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51
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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52
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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53
nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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54
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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55
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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56
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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57
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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58
detoured
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| 绕道( detour的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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60
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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61
besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
scantily
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| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
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63
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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64
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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65
necessitating
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| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的现在分词 ) | |
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66
demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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67
antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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68
scampering
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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69
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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70
omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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71
potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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72
fulfill
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| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
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73
adobe
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| n.泥砖，土坯，美国Adobe公司 | |
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74
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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75
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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76
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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77
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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78
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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79
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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81
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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82
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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83
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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84
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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85
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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87
posterity
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| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
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88
monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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89
oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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90
emaciated
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| adj.衰弱的，消瘦的 | |
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91
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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92
blazoned
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| v.广布( blazon的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布；夸示；装饰 | |
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93
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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94
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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95
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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96
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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97
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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98
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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99
quaintly
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| adv.古怪离奇地 | |
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100
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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101
craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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102
axiomatic
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| adj.不需证明的，不言自明的 | |
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103
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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104
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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105
nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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106
derives
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| v.得到( derive的第三人称单数 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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107
derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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108
acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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110
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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111
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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112
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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113
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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114
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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115
gluttonous
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| adj.贪吃的，贪婪的 | |
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116
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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117
dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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118
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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119
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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120
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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121
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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122
beatific
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| adj.快乐的，有福的 | |
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123
initiation
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| n.开始 | |
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124
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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125
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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126
initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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127
dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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128
meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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129
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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130
divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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131
tamper
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| v.干预，玩弄，贿赂，窜改，削弱，损害 | |
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132
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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133
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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134
advancement
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| n.前进，促进，提升 | |
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135
meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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136
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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137
kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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138
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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139
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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140
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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141
eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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142
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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143
prostrated
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| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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144
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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145
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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146
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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147
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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148
sensory
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| adj.知觉的，感觉的，知觉器官的 | |
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149
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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150
terminology
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| n.术语；专有名词 | |
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