JULIA CHILD: Under this golden dome lies an uncooked, unrisen, unbaked souffle, waiting patiently for the oven.

在这个金色圆屋顶下，个没煮过、没膨胀、没烤过蛋奶酥，正耐心地等烤。

The light of the unrisen moon before him spread out along the dark placard hills like scrimlights in a theatre.

前未升起月光沿黑暗标牌山丘散开， 就像剧院里 scrilights 样。