词汇：bare

adj. 空的；赤裸的，无遮蔽的

相关场景

EXT. SHAOLIN TEMPLE – DAY ESTABLISHING SHOT OF SAN DE WRITING BOLD, BLACK CALLIGRAPHY ON A BARE WHITE PAPER.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
INT. MEDITATION HALL – NIGHT ESTABLISHING SHOT OF BARE CHESTED DREW, SOAKED IN SWEAT.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
Drew runs through an open air food market, picking his way through flipping fish, dead frogs and all kinds of fruits and vegetables. People yell at each other, trying to get the best price. Young man brushing his teeth in the street. A group of toddlers, strung together with rope, walks down the street, their split pants showing glimpses of bare bottoms as they walk.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
When they get around his knees, he finally notices them, and reaches down to get them. Trevor drives and picks him up in a throw, effectively showing Drew's bare ass to the world.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
The area is dilapidated, but very clean, with all kinds of kung fu and Chinese paraphenalia lying around. Around the corner comes the spooky light, and (with music building to a crescendo), we see DREW CARSON, a muscular 16/17 year old, bowls of flaming wax on his bare shoulders, moving through the garage, practicing his kung fu maneuvers. He is kicking, punching, etc., occasionally spilling hot wax on his skin (INSERT).
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
“We gotta move,” he said. “This cover’s working against us. But for luck we’d both be dead now already. What we need is a stretch with a steep bank and no cover.” They worked their way upstream, carrying the saddle, saddlebags and guns, for nearly a mile, hugging the bank. Augustus was limping badly but didn’t stop to worry about it. Finally they came to a bend in the creek, where the bank was sheer and about ten feet high. The creek bottom was nearly bare of foliage.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The large woman held the door open and he went past her, taking care not to stumble, for his feet were feeling more and more untrustworthy. The other boys sidled in after him. They found themselves standing in a bare hall, being stared at by the two women.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Come help me shuck this corn,” Clara said. “The roasting ears are about gone. I get so hungry for them during the winter, I could eat a dozen.”She went on toward the house, carrying her heavy garden basket. When she didn’t hear his footsteps, she looked back at him. July wiped his face and followed her to the house.THE NEXT MORNING, when he managed to get up, July came into the kitchen to find Cholo sharpening a thin-bladed knife. The baby lay on the table, kicking his bare feet, and Clara, wearing a man’s hat, was giving the two girls instructions.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The old man looked mainly at his leg. July had forgotten how ugly it looked—he had even forgotten it was still yellowish and almost bare, for he had cut his pants leg off when the leg was so swollen.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The window was tiny and the cell still mostly dark, but Elmira could make out a man lying on a little bare bunk. He had his arm over his eyes and at first she doubted it was Dee—if so, he had put on weight, which wouldn’t be like Dee. He prided himself on being slim and quick.
>> 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
At close range she looked younger, perhaps only fifteen or sixteen. Probably she had scarcely even had beaux, or if she had, they would only have been farm boys with no knowledge of the world. She had a curling upper lip, which he liked—it indicated she had some spirit. If she had been a whore, he would have contracted with her for a week, just on the strength of that lip and the curve of her bosom. But she was just a barefoot girl sitting on a wagon, with dust on her bare feet.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It rained so hard for two hours that it was difficult even to see the cattle. Newt moped along on Mouse, feeling chilled and depressed. By this time, they were on a rolling plain bare of trees. There was nothing to get under except the sky.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But she couldn’t learn that trick. She thought of being dead, but she didn’t die, and she didn’t try to escape either. She didn’t know where she was, for the plains stretched around, empty and bare, as far as she could see. They had horses and they would catch her and do something to her, or else give her to the Kiowas. Monkey John threatened that too, describing what the Kiowas would do if they got the chance. At night that was mostly what the men talked about—what the Indians did to people they caught. She believed it. Often with the Kiowas she felt a deep fright come over her. They did what they wanted with her but it wasn’t enough—she could see them looking at her after they finished, and the looks made her more scared even than the things Monkey John threatened. The Kiowas just looked, but there was something in their looks that made her wish she could be dead and not have to think about it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
They rode all night, and when the plains got gray they were no more than five miles from Fort Worth. He glanced back at the prisoners and was startled to see the girl, riding behind Roscoe. She looked very young. Her bare legs were as thin as a bird’s. Roscoe was slumped over the horn, asleep, and the girl held the reins. She was also watching the two prisoners, both of whom were plenty wide-awake. July got down and checked Hutto’s knots, which indeed were slipping.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“What’s the story on this July?” Louisa asked. “That wife of his sounds like a woman of ill fame. What kind of sheriff would marry a woman of ill fame?” “Well, July’s slow,” Roscoe said. “He’s the sort that don’t talk much.” “Oh, that sort,” Louisa said. “The opposite of my late husband, Jim.” She took a pair of men’s brogans from beside the table and began to lace them on her bare feet.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Augustus took out his big clasp knife and cut the bacon for her. For a woman who had spent the night being drenched she looked wonderfully fresh, young and beautiful. Her hair was not yet dry; the wet ends were dark. Occasionally a little line of water ran down her bare arm. Bending over the fire, her face was relaxed in a way he had never seen it. The strain that always showed in Lonesome Dove—the strain of always holding herself apart—had disappeared, making her look girlish.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“It’s just Red,” July said. “He’s got to have his buck. He’s gotten rid of me a time or two that way.” Roscoe slept on a couch in the jail and was up and stumbling around in his bare feet when they got there. July got a rifle and two boxes of bullets and then got down a shotgun too.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
She seldom did eat with them. It bothered July a good deal, though he made no complaint. Since their little table was almost under the loft he could look up and see Elmira’s bare legs as he ate. It didn’t seem normal to him. His mother had died when he was six, yet he could remember that she always ate with the family; she would never have sat with her legs dangling practically over her husband’s head. He had been at supper at many cabins in his life, but in none of them had the wife sat in the loft while the meal was eaten. It was a thing out of the ordinary, and July didn’t like for things to be out of the ordinary in his life. It seemed to him it was better to do as other people did—if society at large did things a certain way it had to be for a good reason, and he looked upon common practices as rules that should be obeyed. After all, his job was to see that common practices were honored—that citizens weren’t shot, or banks robbed.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When he took his leave, Mrs. Spettle and the six remaining children scarcely noticed him. They stood in the hot yard, with a scrawny hen or two scratching around their bare feet, watching the boys and crying. The mother, who had scarcely touched her sons before they left, stood straight up and cried. Three of the children were girls, but the other three were boys in their early teens, old enough, at least, to be of use to their mother.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The widow Spettle had a brood of eight children, Bill and Pete being the oldest. Ned Spettle, the father of them all, had died of drink two years before. It looked to Call as if the family was about to starve out. They had a little creek-bottom farm not far north of Pickles Gap, but the soil was poor and the family had little to eat but sowbelly and beans. The widow Spettle, however, was eager for him to take the boys, and would hear no protest from Call. She was a thin woman with bitter eyes. Call had heard from someone that she had been raised rich, in the East, with servants to comb her hair and help her into her shoes when she got up. It might just have been a story—it was hard for him to imagine a grownup who would need to be helped into their own shoes—but if even part of it was true she had come a long way down. Ned Spettle had never got around to putting a floor in the shack of a house he built. His wife was rearing eight children on the bare dirt. He had heard it said that Ned had never got over the war, which might have explained it. Plenty hadn’t. It accounted for the shortage of grown men of a certain age, that war. Call himself felt a kind of guilt at having missed it, though the work he and Gus had done on the border had been just as dangerous, and just as necessary.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But now they were in America, and all he could see was dust and low bushes with thorns, and almost no grass at all. Hehad expected coolness and dew and green grass on which to stretch out for a long nap. The bare hot yard was a cruel letdown, and besides, Sean was an easy weeper. Tears ran out of his eyes whenever he thought of anything sad.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Nonetheless, he had chanced to look up one morning as they were trailing a herd of Mexican cattle through Lonesome Dove. He had seen a yellow-haired girl looking out an open window at them. Her shoulders were bare, which startled him so that he dropped a rein. He had not forgotten the girl, and he occasionally stole a glance at the window if he happened to be riding by. It was a surprise to think she might have been Dish’s sister.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Call ain’t never been my boss,” Augustus said. “It’s no say-so of his when I drink.” Jake looked off across the scrubby pastures. There were tufts of grass here and there, but mostly the ground looked hard as flint. Heat waves were rising off it like fumes off kerosene. Something moved in his line of vision, and for a moment he thought he saw some strange brown animal under a chaparral bush. Looking more closely he saw that it was the old Mexican’s bare backside.“Hell, why’d he take a rope if all he meant to do was shit?” he asked. “Where’d you get the greasy old bastard?” “We’re running a charitable home for retired criminals,” Augustus said. “If you’d just retire you’d qualify.” “Dern, I forgot how ugly this country is,” Jake said. “I guess if there was a market for snake meat, this would be the place to get rich.” With that he put his hat over his face, and within no more than two minutes began a gentle snoring. Augustus returned the jug to the springhouse. It occurred to him that while Jake was napping he might pay a visit to Lorie; once she fell under Jake’s spell he would probably require her to suspend professional activities for a while.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Disgrace! I won’t have this hat. Who can eat?” Xavier said, though nobody was trying to eat. He took the hat around the bar and flung it out the back door. Once as a boy he had carried slops in a restaurant in New Orleans that actually used tablecloths, a standard of excellence which haunted him still. Every time he looked at the bare tables in the Dry Bean he felt a failure. Instead of having tablecloths, the tables were so rough you could get a splinter just running your hand over them. Also, they weren’t attractively round, since the cowboys could not be prevented from whittling on their edges—over the years sizable chunks had been whittled off, giving most of the tables an unbalanced look.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇