Sometimes the veils drop from a man’s eyes, and he sees — and speaks of his vision. Then those who have not seen pass him by with the lifted brows of disbelief, or they mock him, or if his vision has been great enough they fall upon and destroy him.
For the greater the mystery, the more bitterly is its verity2 assailed3; upon what seem the lesser4 a man may give testimony5 and at least gain for himself a hearing.
There is reason for this. Life is a ferment6, and upon and about it, shifting and changing, adding to or taking away, beat over legions of forces, seen and unseen, known and unknown. And man, an atom in the ferment, clings desperately8 to what to him seems stable; nor greets with joy him who hazards that what he grips may be but a broken staff, and, so saying, fails to hold forth9 a sturdier one.
Earth is a ship, plowing10 her way through uncharted oceans of space wherein are strange currents, hidden shoals and reefs, and where blow the unknown winds of Cosmos11.
If to the voyagers, painfully plotting their course, comes one who cries that their charts must be remade, nor can tell WHY they must be — that man is not welcome — no!
Therefore it is that men have grown chary12 of giving testimony upon mysteries. Yet knowing each in his own heart the truth of that vision he has himself beheld13, lo, it is that in whose reality he most believes.
The spot where I had encamped was of a singular beauty; so beautiful that it caught the throat and set an ache within the breast — until from it a tranquillity14 distilled15 that was like healing mist.
Since early March I had been wandering. It was now mid-July. And for the first time since my pilgrimage had begun I drank — not of forgetfulness, for that could never be — but of anodyne16 for a sorrow which had held fast upon me since my return from the Carolines a year before.
No need to dwell here upon that — it has been written. Nor shall I recite the reasons for my restlessness — for these are known to those who have read that history of mine. Nor is there cause to set forth at length the steps by which I had arrived at this vale of peace.
Sufficient is to tell that in New York one night, reading over what is perhaps the most sensational17 of my books — “The Poppies and Primulas of Southern Tibet,” the result of my travels of 1910–1911, I determined18 to return to that quiet, forbidden land. There, if anywhere, might I find something akin7 to forgetting.
There was a certain flower which I long had wished to study in its mutations from the singular forms appearing on the southern slopes of the Elburz — Persia’s mountainous chain that extends from Azerbaijan in the west to Khorasan in the east; from thence I would follow its modified types in the Hindu–Kush ranges and its migrations20 along the southern scarps of the Trans–Himalayas — the unexplored upheaval21, higher than the Himalayas themselves, more deeply cut with precipice22 and gorge23, which Sven Hedin had touched and named on his journey to Lhasa.
Having accomplished24 this, I planned to push across the passes to the Manasarowar Lakes, where, legend has it, the strange, luminous25 purple lotuses grow.
An ambitious project, undeniably fraught26 with danger; but it is written that desperate diseases require desperate remedies, and until inspiration or message how to rejoin those whom I had loved so dearly came to me, nothing less, I felt, could dull my heartache.
And, frankly27, feeling that no such inspiration or message could come, I did not much care as to the end.
In Teheran I had picked up a most unusual servant; yes, more than this, a companion and counselor28 and interpreter as well.
He was a Chinese; his name Chiu–Ming. His first thirty years had been spent at the great Lamasery of Palkhor–Choinde at Gyantse, west of Lhasa. Why he had gone from there, how he had come to Teheran, I never asked. It was most fortunate that he had gone, and that I had found him. He recommended himself to me as the best cook within ten thousand miles of Pekin.
For almost three months we had journeyed; Chiu–Ming and I and the two ponies29 that carried my impedimenta.
We had traversed mountain roads which had echoed to the marching feet of the hosts of Darius, to the hordes30 of the Satraps. The highways of the Achaemenids — yes, and which before them had trembled to the tramplings of the myriads31 of the godlike Dravidian conquerors32.
We had slipped over ancient Iranian trails; over paths which the warriors33 of conquering Alexander had traversed; dust of bones of Macedons, of Greeks, of Romans, beat about us; ashes of the flaming ambitions of the Sassanidae whimpered beneath our feet — the feet of an American botanist34, a Chinaman, two Tibetan ponies. We had crept through clefts35 whose walls had sent back the howlings of the Ephthalites, the White Huns who had sapped the strength of these same proud Sassanids until at last both fell before the Turks.
Over the highways and byways of Persia’s glory, Persia’s shame and Persia’s death we four — two men, two beasts — had passed. For a fortnight we had met no human soul, seen no sign of human habitation.
Game had been plentiful36 — green things Chiu–Ming might lack for his cooking, but meat never. About us was a welter of mighty37 summits. We were, I knew, somewhere within the blending of the Hindu–Kush with the Trans–Himalayas.
That morning we had come out of a ragged38 defile39 into this valley of enchantment40, and here, though it had been so early, I had pitched my tent, determining to go no farther till the morrow.
It was a Phocean vale; a gigantic cup filled with tranquillity. A spirit brooded over it, serene41, majestic42, immutable43 — like the untroubled calm which rests, the Burmese believe, over every place which has guarded the Buddha44, sleeping.
At its eastern end towered the colossal45 scarp of the unnamed peak through one of whose gorges46 we had crept. On his head was a cap of silver set with pale emeralds — the snow fields and glaciers47 that crowned him. Far to the west another gray and ochreous giant reared its bulk, closing the vale. North and south, the horizon was a chaotic48 sky land of pinnacles49, spired51 and minareted53, steepled and turreted54 and domed56, each diademed57 with its green and argent of eternal ice and snow.
And all the valley was carpeted with the blue poppies in wide, unbroken fields, luminous as the morning skies of mid-June; they rippled58 mile after mile over the path we had followed, over the still untrodden path which we must take. They nodded, they leaned toward each other, they seemed to whisper — then to lift their heads and look up like crowding swarms59 of little azure60 fays, half impudently61, wholly trustfully, into the faces of the jeweled giants standing62 guard over them. And when the little breeze walked upon them it was as though they bent63 beneath the soft tread and were brushed by the sweeping64 skirts of unseen, hastening Presences.
Like a vast prayer-rug, sapphire65 and silken, the poppies stretched to the gray feet of the mountain. Between their southern edge and the clustering summits a row of faded brown, low hills knelt — like brown-robed, withered66 and weary old men, backs bent, faces hidden between outstretched arms, palms to the earth and brows touching67 earth within them — in the East’s immemorial attitude of worship.
I half expected them to rise — and as I watched a man appeared on one of the bowed, rocky shoulders, abruptly68, with the ever-startling suddenness which in the strange light of these latitudes69 objects spring into vision. As he stood scanning my camp there arose beside him a laden70 pony71, and at its head a Tibetan peasant. The first figure waved its hand; came striding down the hill.
As he approached I took stock of him. A young giant, three good inches over six feet, a vigorous head with unruly clustering black hair; a clean-cut, clean-shaven American face.
“I’m Dick Drake,” he said, holding out his hand. “Richard Keen Drake, recently with Uncle’s engineers in France.”
“My name is Goodwin.” I took his hand, shook it warmly. “Dr. Walter T. Goodwin.”
“Goodwin the botanist —? Then I know you!” he exclaimed. “Know all about you, that is. My father admired your work greatly. You knew him — Professor Alvin Drake.”
I nodded. So he was Alvin Drake’s son. Alvin, I knew, had died about a year before I had started on this journey. But what was his son doing in this wilderness72?
“Wondering where I came from?” he answered my unspoken question. “Short story. War ended. Felt an irresistible73 desire for something different. Couldn’t think of anything more different from Tibet — always wanted to go there anyway. Went. Decided74 to strike over toward Turkestan. And here I am.”
I felt at once a strong liking75 for this young giant. No doubt, subconsciously76, I had been feeling the need of companionship with my own kind. I even wondered, as I led the way into my little camp, whether he would care to join fortunes with me in my journeyings.
His father’s work I knew well, and although this stalwart lad was unlike what one would have expected Alvin Drake — a trifle dried, precise, wholly abstracted with his experiments — to beget77, still, I reflected, heredity like the Lord sometimes works in mysterious ways its wonders to perform.
It was almost with awe78 that he listened to me instruct Chiu–Ming as to just how I wanted supper prepared, and his gaze dwelt fondly upon the Chinese busy among his pots and pans.
We talked a little, desultorily79, as the meal was prepared — fragments of traveler’s news and gossip, as is the habit of journeyers who come upon each other in the silent places. Ever the speculation80 grew in his face as he made away with Chiu–Ming’s artful concoctions81.
Drake sighed, drawing out his pipe.
“A cook, a marvel82 of a cook. Where did you get him?”
Briefly83 I told him.
Then a silence fell upon us. Suddenly the sun dipped down behind the flank of the stone giant guarding the valley’s western gate; the whole vale swiftly darkened — a flood of crystal-clear shadows poured within it. It was the prelude84 to that miracle of unearthly beauty seen nowhere else on this earth — the sunset of Tibet.
We turned expectant eyes to the west. A little, cool breeze raced down from the watching steeps like a messenger, whispered to the nodding poppies, sighed and was gone. The poppies were still. High overhead a homing kite whistled, mellowly85.
As if it were a signal there sprang out in the pale azure of the western sky row upon row of cirrus cloudlets, rank upon rank of them, thrusting their heads into the path of the setting sun. They changed from mottled silver into faint rose, deepened to crimson86.
“The dragons of the sky drink the blood of the sunset,” said Chiu–Ming.
As though a gigantic globe of crystal had dropped upon the heavens, their blue turned swiftly to a clear and glowing amber87 — then as abruptly shifted to a luminous violet A soft green light pulsed through the valley.
Under it, like hills ensorcelled, the rocky walls about it seemed to flatten88. They glowed and all at once pressed forward like gigantic slices of palest emerald jade89, translucent90, illumined, as though by a circlet of little suns shining behind them.
The light faded, robes of deepest amethyst91 dropped around the mountain’s mighty shoulders. And then from every snow and glacier-crowned peak, from minaret52 and pinnacle50 and towering turret55, leaped forth a confusion of soft peacock flames, a host of irised prismatic gleamings, an ordered chaos92 of rainbows.
Great and small, interlacing and shifting, they ringed the valley with an incredible glory — as if some god of light itself had touched the eternal rocks and bidden radiant souls stand forth.
Through the darkening sky swept a rosy93 pencil of living light; that utterly94 strange, pure beam whose coming never fails to clutch the throat of the beholder95 with the hand of ecstasy96, the ray which the Tibetans name the Ting–Pa. For a moment this rosy finger pointed97 to the east, then arched itself, divided slowly into six shining, rosy bands; began to creep downward toward the eastern horizon where a nebulous, pulsing splendor98 arose to meet it.
And as we watched I heard a gasp99 from Drake. And it was echoed by my own.
For the six beams were swaying, moving with ever swifter motion from side to side in ever-widening sweep, as though the hidden orb19 from which they sprang were swaying like a pendulum100.
Faster and faster the six high-flung beams swayed — and then broke — broke as though a gigantic, unseen hand had reached up and snapped them!
An instant the severed101 ends ribboned aimlessly, then bent, turned down and darted102 earthward into the welter of clustered summits at the north and swiftly were gone, while down upon the valley fell night.
“Good God!” whispered Drake. “It was as though something reached up, broke those rays and drew them down — like threads.”
“I saw it.” I struggled with bewilderment. “I saw it. But I never saw anything like it before,” I ended, most inadequately103.
“It was PURPOSEFUL,” he whispered. “It was DELIBERATE. As though something reached up, juggled104 with the rays, broke them, and drew them down like willow105 withes.”
“The devils that dwell here!” quavered Chiu–Ming.
“Some magnetic phenomenon.” I was half angry at myself for my own touch of panic. “Light can be deflected106 by passage through a magnetic field. Of course that’s it. Certainly.”
“I don’t know.” Drake’s tone was doubtful indeed. “It would take a whale of a magnetic field to have done THAT— it’s inconceivable.” He harked back to his first idea. “It was so — so DAMNED deliberate,” he repeated.
“Devils —” muttered the frightened Chinese.
“What’s that?” Drake gripped my arm and pointed to the north. A deeper blackness had grown there while we had been talking, a pool of darkness against which the mountain summits stood out, blade-sharp edges faintly luminous.
A gigantic lance of misty107 green fire darted from the blackness and thrust its point into the heart of the zenith; following it, leaped into the sky a host of the sparkling spears of light, and now the blackness was like an ebon hand, brandishing108 a thousand javelins109 of tinseled flame.
“The aurora110,” I said.
“It ought to be a good one,” mused111 Drake, gaze intent upon it. “Did you notice the big sun spot?”
I shook my head.
“The biggest I ever saw. Noticed it first at dawn this morning. Some little aurora lighter112 — that spot. I told you — look at that!” he cried.
The green lances had fallen back. The blackness gathered itself together — then from it began to pulse billows of radiance, spangled with infinite darting113 swarms of flashing corpuscles like uncounted hosts of dancing fireflies.
Higher the waves rolled — phosphorescent green and iridescent114 violet, weird115 copperous yellows and metallic116 saffrons and a shimmer117 of glittering ash of rose — then wavered, split and formed into gigantic, sparkling, marching curtains of splendor.
A vast circle of light sprang out upon the folds of the flickering118, rushing curtains. Misty at first, its edges sharpened until they rested upon the blazing glory of the northern sky like a pale ring of cold flame. And about it the aurora began to churn, to heap itself, to revolve119.
Toward the ring from every side raced the majestic folds, drew themselves together, circled, seethed120 around it like foam121 of fire about the lip of a cauldron, and poured through the shining circle as though it were the mouth of that fabled122 cavern123 where old Aeolus sits blowing forth and breathing back the winds that sweep the earth.
Yes — into the ring’s mouth the aurora flew, cascading124 in a columned stream to earth. Then swiftly, a mist swept over all the heavens, veiled that incredible cataract125.
“Magnetism?” muttered Drake. “I guess NOT!”
“It struck about where the Ting–Pa was broken and seemed drawn126 down like the rays,” I said.
“Purposeful,” Drake said. “And devilish. It hit on all my nerves like a — like a metal claw. Purposeful and deliberate. There was intelligence behind that.”
“Intelligence? Drake — what intelligence could break the rays of the setting sun and suck down the aurora?”
“I don’t know,” he answered.
“Devils,” croaked127 Chiu–Ming. “The devils that defied Buddha — and have grown strong —”
“Like a metal claw!” breathed Drake.
Far to the west a sound came to us; first a whisper, then a wild rushing, a prolonged wailing128, a crackling. A great light flashed through the mist, glowed about us and faded. Again the wailing, the vast rushing, the retreating whisper.
Then silence and darkness dropped embraced upon the valley of the blue poppies.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
crucible
|
|
| n.坩锅，严酷的考验 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
verity
|
|
| n.真实性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
assailed
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
lesser
|
|
| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
testimony
|
|
| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
ferment
|
|
| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
akin
|
|
| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
plowing
|
|
| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
cosmos
|
|
| n.宇宙；秩序，和谐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
chary
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，细心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
tranquillity
|
|
| n. 平静, 安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
distilled
|
|
| adj.由蒸馏得来的v.蒸馏( distil的过去式和过去分词 )；从…提取精华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
anodyne
|
|
| n.解除痛苦的东西，止痛剂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
sensational
|
|
| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
orb
|
|
| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
migrations
|
|
| n.迁移，移居( migration的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
upheaval
|
|
| n.胀起，(地壳)的隆起；剧变，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
precipice
|
|
| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
gorge
|
|
| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
luminous
|
|
| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
fraught
|
|
| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
counselor
|
|
| n.顾问，法律顾问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
ponies
|
|
| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
hordes
|
|
| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
myriads
|
|
| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
conquerors
|
|
| 征服者，占领者( conqueror的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
warriors
|
|
| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
botanist
|
|
| n.植物学家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
clefts
|
|
| n.裂缝( cleft的名词复数 )；裂口；cleave的过去式和过去分词；进退维谷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
plentiful
|
|
| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
defile
|
|
| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
enchantment
|
|
| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
serene
|
|
| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
majestic
|
|
| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
immutable
|
|
| adj.不可改变的，永恒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
Buddha
|
|
| n.佛；佛像；佛陀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
colossal
|
|
| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
gorges
|
|
| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
glaciers
|
|
| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
chaotic
|
|
| adj.混沌的，一片混乱的，一团糟的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
pinnacles
|
|
| 顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 )； 顶点； 尖顶； 小尖塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
pinnacle
|
|
| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
spired
|
|
| v.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
52
minaret
|
|
| n.（回教寺院的）尖塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
minareted
|
|
| 有伊斯兰教式尖塔的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
54
turreted
|
|
| a.(像炮塔般)旋转式的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
55
turret
|
|
| n.塔楼，角塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
domed
|
|
| adj. 圆屋顶的, 半球形的, 拱曲的 动词dome的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
diademed
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
58
rippled
|
|
| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
swarms
|
|
| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
azure
|
|
| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
impudently
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
sapphire
|
|
| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
latitudes
|
|
| 纬度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
pony
|
|
| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
subconsciously
|
|
| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
beget
|
|
| v.引起；产生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
desultorily
|
|
| adv. 杂乱无章地, 散漫地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
speculation
|
|
| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
concoctions
|
|
| n.编造，捏造，混合物( concoction的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
prelude
|
|
| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
mellowly
|
|
| 柔软且甜地，成熟地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
86
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
amber
|
|
| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
flatten
|
|
| v.把．．．弄平，使倒伏；使(漆等)失去光泽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
jade
|
|
| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
translucent
|
|
| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
amethyst
|
|
| n.紫水晶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
chaos
|
|
| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
beholder
|
|
| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
splendor
|
|
| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
pendulum
|
|
| n.摆，钟摆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
severed
|
|
| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
inadequately
|
|
| ad.不够地；不够好地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
juggled
|
|
| v.歪曲( juggle的过去式和过去分词 )；耍弄；有效地组织；尽力同时应付（两个或两个以上的重要工作或活动） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
willow
|
|
| n.柳树 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
deflected
|
|
| 偏离的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
brandishing
|
|
| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
javelins
|
|
| n.标枪( javelin的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
aurora
|
|
| n.极光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
mused
|
|
| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
iridescent
|
|
| adj.彩虹色的，闪色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
metallic
|
|
| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
shimmer
|
|
| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
flickering
|
|
| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
revolve
|
|
| vi.(使)旋转；循环出现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
seethed
|
|
| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
foam
|
|
| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
fabled
|
|
| adj.寓言中的，虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
cavern
|
|
| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
cascading
|
|
| 流注( cascade的现在分词 )； 大量落下； 大量垂悬； 梯流 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
cataract
|
|
| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
croaked
|
|
| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
wailing
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |