词汇：dirt

n. 污垢，泥土；灰尘，尘土；下流话

相关场景

He moves quickly and dumps both baskets of dirt.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
ANGLE ON DREW: As he loads up a two baskets of dirt onto his pole. He gets it up onto his shoulders, in pain, and starts to walk. Immediately, the D.S. is there in front of him.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
As he dumps the dirt, a pole appears and CRACKS across his back. He drops the buckets and falls to the ground. He gets up as quickly as he can, but there is no one to be seen.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
ANGLE ON DREW: As he lifts up two heavy buckets of dirt on a pole, then places the pole on his shoulders, the muscles in his arms, shoulders and back straining. He walks off to the side of the area to dump it.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
Bicycle bells ring loudly as figures dressed in the same drab clothes ride around him, their faces covered with scarves and surgical masks against the northern China dirt.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
A piece of gold and a pile of dirt.
>> 新少林寺 Shaolin (2011)Movie Script
Mark just discovered dirt.
>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script
“I’ll watch west and you watch east,” Augustus said. Almost as soon as he finished speaking a shot hit the cave bank just above their heads, causing dirt to shower down. Augustus looked down the creek and saw two horsemen cross it, too far away to make accurate targets in the dusk.
“我向西看，你向东看，”奥古斯都说。他刚说完，一声枪响就击中了他们头顶上方的洞穴堤岸，导致泥土倾泻而下。奥古斯都顺着小溪往下看，看见两个骑兵穿过小溪，离得太远，在黄昏时无法准确瞄准。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“My lord, Gus, you’re shot too,” Pea Eye said. When Augustus bent over to twist the arrow, Pea noticed that the back of his shirt, down low near his belt, was caked with blood. The dirt from their diggings had covered it, but there was no doubt that it was blood.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Let’s dig,” Augustus said, and began to work with his knife to create a shallow cave under the bank. They worked furiously for half an hour until both were drenched with sweat and covered with dirt. Augustus used the stock of the Indian boy’s carbine as a rude shovel and tried to shape the dirt they raked out into low breastworks on either side of the cave. They watched as best they could, but saw no Indians.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara had brought two cups. She was very glad to be out of the house. She poured Cholo his coffee and then poured some for herself. She sat down on the mound of dirt beside him and looked into the open grave.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“It was Josh.” “Well, I swear,” Jasper said. “That’s a fine name. Starts with a J, like mine. We could have been calling him that all the time, if we’d known.” Then they heard the sound of the hammer—it was the big hammer that they used for straightening the rims of the wagon wheels. Captain Call was hammering the long board deep into the dirt by the grave.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
All day he rode west, and the country around him grew more bleak. Not fit for sheep, Call thought. Not hardly fit for lizards—in fact, a small gray lizard was the only life he saw all day. That night he made a dry camp in sandy country where the dirt was light-colored, almost white. He supposed he had come some sixty miles and could not imagine that the herd would make it that far, although the Hell Bitch seemed unaffected. He slept for a few hours and went on, arriving just after sunup on the banks of Salt Creek. It was not running, but there was adequate water in scattered shallow pools. The water was not good, but it was water. The trouble was, the herd was nearly eighty miles back—a four-day drive under normal conditions; and in this case the miles were entirely waterless, which wouldn’t make for normal conditions.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The six soldiers, watching, were too astonished to move. The small-seeming cowman kicked Dixon so hard in the face that it seemed his head would fly off. Then the man stood over Dixon, who spat out blood and teeth. When Dixon struggled to his feet, the smaller man immediately knocked him down again and then ground his face into the dirt with a boot.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I guess I’m awful,” Clara said. “Any kind of company affects me this way. I shouldn’t be bothering you when you’re so tired. The girls are drawing water. You have a bath. You can sleep in their room—it’s a good bed.” Later, when he had bathed and fallen into a sleep so deep that he didn’t even turn over for several hours, Clara brought the baby in and peeked at July. He hadn’t shaved, but at least he had washed. Cleaned of dirt he looked very young, only a few years older than her oldest boy would have been had he lived.
“我想我很糟糕，”克拉拉说。“任何公司都会这样影响我。你这么累的时候，我不应该打扰你。女孩们在打水。你洗个澡。你可以睡在她们的房间里——这是一张好床。”后来，当他洗完澡，睡得如此之深，以至于几个小时都没有翻身时，克拉拉把婴儿抱了进来，偷看了七月。他没有刮胡子，但至少他洗了。清除了污垢后，他看起来很年轻，只比她最大的儿子大几岁。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
And the thing she wanted most to do was plant flowers—flowers that might bloom in the light. She did plant them, ordering bulbs and seeds from the East. The light brought them up, and then the wind tore them from her. Worse than the dirt she hated the wind. The dirt she could hold her own with, sweeping it away each morning, but the wind was endless and fierce. It renewed itself again and again, curling out of the north to take her flowers from her, petal by petal, until nothing remained but the sad stalks. Clara kept on planting anyway, hiding the flowers in the most protected spots she could find. The wind always found them too, in time, but sometimes the blooms lasted a few days before the petals were blown away. It was a battle she wouldn’t give up on: every winter she read seed catalogues with the girls and described to them the flowers they would have when spring came.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Well then, save it, at least,” Clara said, feeling so downcast suddenly that she left the room. She got a water bucket and walked out of the house, meaning to get some water for Bob. It was a beautiful morning, light touching the farthest edges of the plains. Clara noticed the beauty and thought it strange that she could still respond to it, tired as she was and with two people dying in her house—perhaps three. But she loved the fine light of the prairie mornings; it had resurrected her spirits time after time though the years, when it seemed that dirt and cold and death would crush her. Just to see the light spreading like that, far on toward Wyoming, was her joy. It seemed to put energy into her, make her want to do things.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara had lived, and stayed, though she had a look in her gray eyes that frightened Bob every time he saw it. He didn’t really know what the look meant, but to him it meant she might leave if he didn’t watch out. When they first came to Nebraska, he had had the drinking habit. Ogallala was hardly even a town then; there were few neighbors, and almost no socials. The Indians were a dire threat, though Clara didn’t seem to fear them. If they had company, it was usually soldiers—the soldiers drank, and so did he. Clara didn’t like it. One night he got pretty drunk, and when he got up in the morning she had that look in her eye. She made him breakfast, but then she looked at him coldly and lay down a threat. “I want you to stop drinking,” she said. “You’ve been drunk three times this week. I won’t live here and get dirt in my hair for the love of a drunkard.” It was the only threat she ever had to make. Bob spent the day worrying, looking at the bleak plains and wondering what he would do in such a place without her. He never touched whiskey again. The jug he had been working on sat in the cupboard for years, until Clara finally mixed it with sorghum molasses and used it for cough medicine.
克拉拉活了下来，也留了下来，尽管她灰色的眼睛里有一种眼神，每次鲍勃看到它都会害怕。他真的不知道这种眼神是什么意思，但对他来说，这意味着如果他不小心，她可能会离开。当他们第一次来到内布拉斯加州时，他有喝酒的习惯。那时奥加拉拉甚至还不是一个小镇；邻居很少，几乎没有社交活动。印第安人是一个可怕的威胁，尽管克拉拉似乎并不害怕他们。如果他们有同伴，通常是士兵——士兵们喝酒，他也是。克拉拉不喜欢这样。一天晚上，他喝得酩酊大醉，当他早上起床时，她的眼睛里有那种表情。她给他做了早餐，但随后她冷冷地看着他，发出了威胁。“我希望你停止饮酒，”她说。“你这周喝醉了三次。我不会为了一个醉汉的爱而住在这里，头发上沾满污垢。”这是她唯一一次威胁。鲍勃整天都在担心，看着荒凉的平原，想知道如果没有她，他会在这样的地方做什么。他再也没碰过威士忌。他一直在做的罐子在橱柜里放了好几年，直到克拉拉终于把它和高粱糖蜜混合在一起，用来治咳嗽。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara had bought the piano with money saved all those years from the sale of her parents’ little business in Texas. She had never let Bob use the money—another bone of contention between them. She wanted it for her children, so when the time came they could be sent away to school and not have to spend their whole youth in such a raw, lonely place. The first of the money she spent was on the two-story frame house they had built three years before, after nearly fifteen years of life in the sod house Bob had dug for her on a slope above the Platte. Clara had always hated the sod house—hated the dirt that seeped down on her bedclothes, year after year. It was dust that caused her firstborn, Jim, to cough virtually from his birth until he died a year later. In the mornings Clara would walk down and wash her hair in the icy waters of the Platte, and yet by supper time, if she happened to scratch her head, her fingernails would fill with dirt that had seeped down during the day. For some reason, no matter where she moved her bed, the roof would trickle dirt right onto it. She tacked muslin, and finally canvas, on the ceiling over the bed but nothing stopped the dirt for long. It sifted through. It seemed to her that all her children had been conceived in dust clouds, dust rising from the bedclothes or sifting down from the ceiling. Centipedes and other bugs loved the roof; day after day they crawled down the walls, to end up in her stewpots or her skillets or the trunks where she stored her clothes.
克拉拉用多年来卖掉父母在得克萨斯州的小生意攒下的钱买了这架钢琴。她从未让鲍勃使用这笔钱——这是他们之间的另一个争论点。她想把它送给她的孩子，这样到时候他们就可以被送去上学，而不必在这样一个原始、孤独的地方度过整个青春。她花的第一笔钱是他们三年前建造的两层框架房子，在鲍勃在普拉特河上方的一个斜坡上为她挖的草皮房子里生活了近十五年。克拉拉一直讨厌那间草皮屋，讨厌年复一年地渗到她床上用品上的污垢。正是灰尘导致她的长子吉姆从出生到一年后去世几乎一直咳嗽。每天早上，克拉拉都会走下来，在普拉特冰冷的水中洗头，但到了晚饭时间，如果她碰巧挠头，她的指甲里就会充满白天渗出的污垢。不知为什么，无论她把床移到哪里，屋顶上的污垢都会直接流到上面。她在床的天花板上钉上了细棉布，最后是帆布，但没有什么能长时间阻挡污垢。它通过筛选。在她看来，她所有的孩子都是在尘埃云中孕育的，尘埃云是从床上用品上升起的，还是从天花板上筛下的。蜈蚣和其他虫子喜欢屋顶；日复一日，它们沿着墙壁爬行，最终落入她的炖锅、煎锅或她存放衣服的箱子里。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Sobriety, if you guzzle enough of it,” Augustus said. “I expect it’s just whiskey and syrup.” The wagon itself was in such poor repair that they decided to leave it sit. Call broke up the tailgate and made a little marker for Jake’s grave, scratching his name on it with a pocketknife by the light of the old man’s lantern. He hammered the marker into the loose-packed dirt with the blunt side of a hatchet they had found in the wagon. Augustus trotted over, bringing Call his mare.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Let’s go, then,” Call said, standing up. “We won’t have to backtrack him, we can just look for the buzzards.” Augustus was troubled by the fact that he could find nothing with which to mark Wilbarger’s grave—the plains and the riverbank were bare. He gave up and came to the grave just as Pea Eye and Deets were covering the man with dirt.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He sat up much of the night, listening to the Irishman sing to the cattle. As he was listening, a skunk walked between him and the mare. It nosed along, stopping now and then to scratch at the dirt. Call sat still and the skunk soon went on its way. The Hell Bitch paid it no mind. She went on quietly grazing.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I thought we was gonna regulate the settlers,” Roy said one night. “What are we waiting for?” “A nester that’s got something besides a milk cow and a pile of buffalo chips,” Dan Suggs said. “I’m looking for a rich one.” “If one was rich, he wouldn’t be living in a hole dug out of a hill up here in Kansas,” Jake said. “I slept in one of those soddies once—so much dirt leaked out of the roof during the night that I woke up dern near buried.” “That don’t mean some of them couldn’t have some gold,” little Eddie said. “I’d like to practice regulating a little so I’d have the hang of it when we do strike the rich ones.” “All we aim to let you do is watch, anyway,” Dan said. “It don’t take no practice to watch.” “I’ve shot a nester,” little Eddie reminded him. “Shot two. If they don’t pay up, I might make it three.” “The object is to scare them out of their money, not shoot them,” Dan said. “You shoot too many and pretty soon you’ve got the law after you. We want to get rich, not get hung.” “He’s too young to know what he’s talking about,” Roy said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Jake mounted, but he was reluctant to leave. It occurred to him that if he went back to the nesters he might bluff his way out of it. After all, it had been self-defense—even dirt farmers from Missouri could understand that. The nesters were looking their way, but none of them were offering to fight. If he turned and rode into the Territory, he would be carrying two killings against his name. In neither case had he meant to kill, or even known the man he killed. It was just more bad luck—noticing a pretty girl on a wagon seat was where it started in this case.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“My name’s Jake Spoon,” he said. “What’s yours?” “Lou,” she said, not much more than whispering the information. He did like the way her upper lip curved, and was about to say more, but before he could get the words out something slammed him in the back and his face was in the dirt. He hit the ground so hard he busted his lip.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇