A Meditation upon a Broomstick
By Jonathan Swift
ACCORDING TO THE STYLE AND MANNER OF THE HON. ROBERT BOYLE’S MEDITATIONS.
THIS single stick, which you now behold ingloriously lying in that neglected corner, I once knew in a flourishing state in a forest. It was full of sap, full of leaves, and full of boughs; but now in vain does the busy art of man pretend to vie with nature, by tying that withered bundle of twigs to its sapless trunk; it is now at best but the rever of what it was, a tree turned upside-down, the branches on the earth, and the root in the air; it is now handled by every dirty wench, condemned to do her drudgery, and, by a capricious kind of fate, destined to make other things clean, and be nasty itlf; at length, worn to the stumps in the rvice of the maids, it is either thrown out of doors or condemned to the last u — of kindling a fire. When I behold this I sighed, and said within mylf, “Surely mortal man is a broomstick!” Nature nt him into the world strong and lusty, in a thriving condition, wearing
his own hair on his head, the proper branches of this reasoning vegetable, till the axe of intemperance has lopped off his green boughs, and left him a withered trunk; he then flies to art, and puts on a periwig, valuing himlf upon an unnatural bundle of hairs, all covered with powder, that never grew on his head; but now should this our broomstick pretend to enter the scene, proud of tho birchen spoils it never bore, and all covered with dust, through the sweepings of the finest lady’s chamber, we should be apt to ridicule and despi its vanity. Partial judges that we are of our own excellencies, and other men’s defaults!
But a broomstick, perhaps you will say, is an emblem of a tree standing on its head; and pray what is a man but a topsy-turvy creature, his animal faculties perpetually mounted on his rational, his head where his heels should be, grovelling on the earth? And yet, with all his faults, he ts up to be a universal reformer and corrector of abus, a remover of grievances, rakes into every slut’s corner of nature, bringing hidden corruptions to the light, and rais a mighty dust where there was none before, sharing deeply all the while in the very same pollutions he pretends to sweep away. His last days are spent in slavery
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to women, and generally the least derving; till, worn to the stumps, like his brother besom, he is either kicked out of doors, or made u of to kindle flames for others to warm themlves by.
Notes:
1. ingloriously adv. 不光彩地
word背景颜色2. lusty adj. 健壮的
3. intemperance n. 放纵
4. wig n. 假发
去泰国需要办理什么手续5. despi v. 鄙视
6. vanity n. 虚荣
7. partial adj. 偏袒
理解与赏析：
看到一根扫帚把，你会不会想到它在森林中也曾经意气风发过？你又会不会用扫帚把的经历来映射人生呢？有一天，当我们随着岁月老去的时候，我们的人生是否也像一把枯枝，不屑被人提起？ 也许我们只有努力将自己的人生过得充实，才不会有它这样的结局。
毁约参考译文1：
放荡不羁的诗句扫帚把上的沉思
你看这根扫帚把，现在灰溜溜地躺在无人注意的角落。我曾在树林里见过，当时它风华正茂，树液充沛，枝叶繁茂。如今变了样，却还有人自作聪明，想靠手艺同大自然竞争，拿来一束枯枝捆在那已无输液的身上，结果是枉费心机，不过颠倒了它原来的位置，使它枝干朝地，根梢向天，成为一株头冲下的树，归在任何干苦活的脏婆子的手里使用，从此受命运摆布，把别人打扫干净，自己却落得个又脏又臭，而在女仆们的手里折腾过多次之后，最后只剩下一支根株了，于是被扔出门外，或者作为引火的柴禾被烧掉了。
淬火介质我看到了这一切，不禁兴叹，自言自语一番：人不也是一根扫帚把么？当大自然送他入世
之初，他是强壮有力的，处于兴旺时期，满头的天生好发，如果比作一株有理性的植物，那就是枝叶齐全。但不久酗酒贪色就像一把斧子砍掉了他的青枝绿叶，只留给他一根枯株。他赶紧求助于人工，戴上了头套，以一束铺满香粉但非他头上所长的假发为荣。要是我们这把扫帚也这样登场，由于把一些别的树条收集到身上而得意洋洋，其实这些条上尽是灰土，即使是最高贵的夫人房里的尘土，我们也一定会笑它是如何虚荣吧！我们就是这样偏心的审判官，偏于自己的优点，别人的毛病。
参考译文2石化加油卡：
长把扫帚上的沉思
这根影单形只的棍子，你现在看它风光不再地躺在那无人问津的旮旯里，可我曾经知道它在树林里蓬蓬勃勃，风光无限；然而现在，人借用忙乱的艺术，徒劳地摆出样子与造化较劲，把一束枯萎的树枝绑扎成了干瘪瘪的桩子；它这下，从最乐观的角度看，也只是它原来样子的颠倒，一棵树反了个儿，树枝儿着了地，树根朝了天；它这下会被每一个邋遢的村姑抓在手里，在劫难逃，干她的脏活儿，并且，命运不济，注定把别的物件清理干净，自己落得满是灰尘。临了，在女佣挥来挥去的使唤中磨得秃枝光棍，它要么被扔出门去，
英语作业怎么写要么派上最后用场，用来烧火。我看到这个下场不由得长叹一声，心下自忖道：人活一世，不过一把长把扫帚而已！造化把它送往人间，结结实实，生气勃勃，一副强健有力的身子骨，头上顶着自己的头发，不是这种有理智的植物应该长就的枝杈，有一天纵欲的板斧却会砍掉他的绿枝，留给他一个干瘪的桩子：随后他求助艺术，戴上假发，凭着一绺永远长不在他头上的反自然的头发抬高自己（还铺满了粉末），但现在，倘若我们眼前这把扫帚硬要粉墨登场，为它从来没有享有过的桦木的青枝绿叶洋洋得意，尽管里里外外沾满灰尘，却炫耀清扫活动是在雍容华贵的淑女的闺房里，那么我们准会嘲笑和小看它贪图虚名浮利。我们是多么偏心眼儿的判官，盯着自己的卓越不凡，尽对别人吹毛求疵！
