日出前的一小时

An hour before sunrise in the city there is all air of cold, solitary desolation about the noiseless streets, which we are accustomed to see thronged at other times by a busy, eager crowd, and over the quiet, closely shut buildings which throughout the day are swarming with life. The drunken, the dissipated, and tile criminal have disappeared; the more sober and orderly part of the population have not yet awakened to the labors of the day, and the stillness of death is over the streets; its very hue seems to be imparted to them, cold and lifeless as they look in the gray, somber light of day- break. A partially opened bedroom window here and there bespeaks the heat of the weather and the uneasy slumbers of its occupant; and the dim scanty flicker of a light through the blinds of yonder windows denotes the chamber of watching and sickness. Save for that sad light, the streets present no signs of life, nor the houses of habitation.

日出前的一小时，城里一片冷清和孤寂，我们惯于看到的在一日中其他时刻挤满匆忙人群的大街变得空荡荡、静悄悄，整天人来人往，活动频繁的房屋，此刻门户紧闭，寂静无声。醉鬼，放荡者、犯罪分子都不见了，居民中比较循规蹈矩，持重沉着的人们还没有醒来开始他们一天的工作，大街死一般地寂静，似乎也染上了死一般的色彩，在拂晓阴沉、灰暗的光线里显得冷清而毫无生气。到处都有一扇扇半开半掩的卧室窗户，表明天气炎热，屋主人睡眠不宁，那边百叶窗里透露出摇曳的微光，表明那房间里有人卧病或守夜。除了那忧郁的灯光，街上一片死寂，住房里也没有人活动的迹象。