An Hour before Sunrise
日出前的一小時

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.
日出前的一小時，城里一片冷清和孤寂，我們慣于看到的在一日中其他時刻擠滿匆忙人群的大街變得空蕩蕩、靜悄悄，整天人來人往，活動頻繁的房屋，此刻門戶緊閉，寂靜無聲。醉鬼，放蕩者、犯罪分子都不見了，居民中比較循規(guī)蹈矩，持重沉著的人們還沒有醒來開始他們一天的工作，大街死一般地寂靜，似乎也染上了死一般的色彩，在拂曉陰沉、灰暗的光線里顯得冷清而毫無生氣。到處都有一扇扇半開半掩的臥室窗戶，表明天氣炎熱，屋主人睡眠不寧，那邊百葉窗里透露出搖曳的微光，表明那房間里有人臥病或守夜。除了那憂郁的燈光，街上一片死寂，住房里也沒有人活動的跡象。