Elwyn Brooks White（埃尔文·布鲁克斯·怀特，1899—1985），美国当代著名作家、评论家，出生于纽约，毕业于美国康奈尔大学。多年来，他为《纽约客》杂志担任专职撰稿人、专栏作家及特约编辑。1971年，他获得美国“国家文学奖章”，1973年，他被选为美国文学艺术学院五十名永久院士之一，并于1978 年获得普利策特别文艺奖。其主要作品有：儿童读物Stuart Little（《小老鼠斯图尔特》）、Charlotte' s Web（《夏洛的网》）、文体学专著The Elements of Style（《文体的要素》）、散文集Essays of E. B. White（《E·B·怀特散文》）等。
怀特是一位颇有造诣的散文家，其散文文风冷峻清丽，辛辣幽默，自成一格。在其诸多散文作品中，最为世人称道的就是这篇Once More to the Lake。本文语言优美流畅，用词精练，虽生词较多，仍值得细细品读。限于版面，内容有删节。
文字难度：★★★★
One summer, along about 1904, my father rented a 1)camp on a lake in 2)Maine and took us all there for the month of August. And from then on none of us ever thought there was any place in the world like that lake in Maine. We returned summer after summer—always on August 1st for one month. I have since become a salt-water man, but sometimes in summer there are days when the restlessness of the tides and the fearful cold of the sea water and the 3)incessant wind which blows across the afternoon and into the evening make me wish for the 4)placidity of a lake in the woods. A few weeks ago this feeling got so strong I bought myself a couple of 5)bass hooks and a 6)spinner and returned to the lake where we used to go, for a week's fishing and to revisit old haunts.
有一年夏天，大约是1904年，父亲在缅因州一处湖区租了房子，带我们在那儿度假，玩儿了整整一个八月。打那时起我们一致认为，世界上绝没有任何一个地方能和缅因州的那个湖区相提并论。之后，我们年年夏天都要去那里，而且总是从八月一号开始住上整整一个月。后来我当了海员，夏季海上总会有些日子让人不舒服，滔天的浊浪永无休止，冷冷的海水令人胆寒，呼啸的海风不知疲倦，从下午一直吹到晚上，这就很让我怀念那林间湖泊上的宁静。几周之前，这份怀念终于一发不可收拾，我于是添置了一对鲈鱼钩和一副旋式诱饵，重返我们从前常去的湖区，打算湖上垂钓一周，故地重游。
I took along my son. On the journey over to the lake I began to wonder what it would be like. I wondered how time would have 7)marred this unique, this holy spot—the coves and streams, the hills that the sun set behind, the camps and the paths behind the camps. I was sure that the 8)tarred road would have found it out and I wondered in what other ways it would be 9)desolated. It is strange how much you can remember about places like that once you allow your mind to return into the 10)grooves which lead back. You remember one thing, and that suddenly reminds you of another thing. I guess I remembered clearest of all the early mornings, when the lake was cool and motionless, remembered how the bedroom smelled of the lumber it was made of and of the wet woods whose scent entered through the screen. The 11)partitions in the camp were thin and did not extend clear to the top of the rooms, and as I was always the first up I would dress softly so as not to wake the others, and sneak out into the sweet outdoors and start out in the canoe, keeping close along the shore in the long shadows of the pines. I remembered being very careful never to rub my paddle against the 12)gunwale for fear of disturbing the stillness of the cathedral…
我带上了儿子。刚一上路，我就急于知道那个湖如今会是什么模样。我想知道在这个独特圣洁的地方，时光会镌刻下什么样的痕迹——山坳里、溪流间、夕阳西下的山峦、湖畔小屋，以及屋后的小路，都发生了什么变化？我相信柏油公路一定已经修到了那里，那么它又将如何躲避尘世的喧嚣呢。很奇怪，一旦任由思绪飘回至过往的岁月，你会发现自己对于那块地方的记忆竟然那么丰富。对一件事的回忆会突然唤醒你对另一件事的回忆。我印象最深刻的大约就是黎明时分，湖水沁人心脾，波平似镜，睡房充盈着四壁板材的原木芬芳，丛林间的潮气从窗纱渗入，别样清新。木屋隔板壁薄，未及屋顶那般高，我总是起得最早，轻手轻脚地穿好衣服，以免扰人清梦，然后悄悄溜到空气清新的屋外，荡起轻舟，贴着长松暗影笼住的湖岸划开去。我记得我是那么小心翼翼，不让船桨刮到船舷，生怕打搅了那教堂般的静穆……