Translate your ePub into French

“How do you get to West Egg village?” he asked helplessly.

« Comment fait-on pour aller au village de West Egg ? » demanda-t-il, désemparé.

I told him. And as I walked on I was lonely no longer. I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler. He had casually conferred on me the freedom of the neighbourhood.

Je le lui indiquai. Et tandis que je poursuivais mon chemin, je ne fus plus seul. J’étais un guide, un éclaireur, un colon de la première heure. Il m’avait, avec désinvolture, conféré la liberté du voisinage.

We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.

Nous bavardâmes quelques minutes sur le perron ensoleillé.

“It belonged to Demaine, the oil man.” He turned me around again, politely and abruptly. “We’ll go inside.”

« Elle appartenait à Demaine, l’homme du pétrole. » Il me fit de nouveau pivoter, poliment mais brusquement. « Nous allons entrer. »

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.

在我更年轻、更易受影响的岁月里，父亲给我的建议，我至今仍反复思索。

“Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

他说：“每当你想要批评任何人的时候，你就记住，这个世界上所有的人，并不是个个都有过你拥有的那些优越条件。”

He didn’t say any more, but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence, I’m inclined to reserve all judgements, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.

他没有再多说，但我们之间虽然含蓄，却一向交流得特别透彻。我明白他话里有更深的意思。因此，我倾向于不轻易评判别人，这个习惯让我见识了许多稀奇古怪的性格，也让我成了不少老套烦人者的受害者。异常的心灵一旦在正常人身上发现这种特质，就会迅速抓住它并依附上去，所以大学时我被人不公正地指责为政客，因为我知晓那些陌生、狂野之人的秘密悲伤。大部分信任都不是我主动求来的——当我察觉到某种明显的信号，预示着即将有亲密告白时，我常常假装睡着、心不在焉，或是故意显出轻浮的敌意；因为年轻人的亲密表白，或者说他们表达这些的方式，通常是抄袭来的，并且被明显的隐瞒所破坏。不做评判是无限的希望。我仍然有点害怕，如果忘记这一点，就会错过什么；正如我父亲势利地暗示的那样，而我正势利地重复着——基本的公义感是出生时就不平等分配的。