杰克·伦敦的《热爱生命》讲述的是这样一个故事：一个美国西部的淘金者在返回的途中被朋友抛弃了， 独自跋涉在广袤的荒原上。冬天逼近了，寒风夹着雪花向他袭来……

That day he decreased the distance between him and the ship by three miles; the next day by two-for he was crawling now as Bill had crawled; and the end of the day found the ship still seven mailes away and him unable to make even a mile a day. Still the indian summer held on, and he continued to crawl and faint ,turn and turn about; and ever the sick wolf coughed and wheezed at his heels. His knees had become raw meat like his feet, and though he paddled them with the shirt from his back it was a red track he left behind him on the moss and stones. Once , glancing back, he saw the wolf licking hungrily his bleeding trail, and he saw sharply what his own end might be-unless-unless he could get the wolf. Then began as grim a tragedy of existence as was ever played-a sick man that crawled, a sick wolf that limped, two creatures dragging their dying carcasses across the desolation and hunting each other’s lives.

这一天，他和那条船之间的距离又缩短了三英里，到了第二天，他又继续缩短了两英里-因为他现在就和比尔先生先前一样在地上匍匐前进，到了第五天晚上的时候，他发现那条船依然离他还有七英里的距离，而他每天的进程还不到一英里。幸好深秋的天气依然晴朗，他继续爬，一次又一次地晕死过去，可是醒来他又继续地往前爬，不停地回头张望着;而那头病狼也在不停地咳嗽着，发出艰难的喘息声，可依然紧紧尾随其后。他的膝盖-就和他的双脚一样-早给磨得血肉模糊，其实他一早就脱下了身上的衬衣裹住了膝盖，可都没有用，他一路爬下来，他身后的苔藓和岩石上也就留下了一道触目惊心的血渍。有一次他回头的时候，他看见那头饿狼正贪婪地舔着他的血渍，一时间他清楚地意识到自己的结局-除非-除非他把那头狼解决掉。就这样，一幕从来没有上演的求生悲剧开始了-病人在前面爬，瘸腿的病狼尾随其后，两个生灵就这样在荒漠里拖着垂死的躯壳，随时准备猎取对方的生命。

Had it been a well wolf, it would not have mattered so much to the man; but the thought of going to feed the maw of that loathsome and all but dead thing was repugnant to him. He was finicky. His mind had begun to wander again, and to be perplexed by hallucinations, while his lucid intervals grew rarer and shorter.

如果这是头健康的狼，他也觉得没什么;可是一想到自己要葬身狼腹，尤其是眼前这头令人作恶、病怏怏的饿狼，他就觉得非常厌恶。要知道他可是一个非常讲究的人。他又开始胡思乱想起来，人也因幻觉影响而变得迷糊。他神智清醒的时间越来越少，越来越短。

He was awaken once from a faint by a wheeze close in his ear.The wolf leaped lamely back, losing its footing and falling in its weakness. It was ludicrous, but he was not amused. Nor was he even afraid. He was too far gone for that. But his mind was for the moment clear, and he lay and considered.

有一次他从昏迷中被耳边传来的喘息声惊醒;那只狼很快一跛一跛地跳开，由于身体虚弱，那头狼还失足摔了一跤，那样子可笑极了，可是他却笑不出来。倒不是因为他害怕，事情到了这田地他早就不害怕了。不过，在这瞬间他的脑子很清醒，他躺在地上仔细地思考起来。

The ship was more than four miles away. He could see it quite distinctly when he rubbed the mists out of his eyes. But he could never crawl those four miles. He knew that, and was very calm in the knowledge. He knew that he could not crawl half a mile. And yet he wanted to live. It was unreasonable that he should die after all he had undergone. Fate asked too much of him. And , dying, he declined to die. It was stark madness, perhaps, but in the very grip of Death he defied Death and refused to die.

那艘船就在离他还不到四英里的地方。他使劲揉了揉眼睛，那艘船清晰的出现在他眼前。可是，他再也爬不完这四英里的路程了，这点他很清楚，因为就算是半英里的路程他也爬不了。可同时他也非常镇静，因为他想活下去。他已经经历了千辛万苦，他不想就这样死掉。命运对他实在太苛刻了，可他就是不愿俯身受死。这是一种近乎疯狂的想法，可就算他无法逃脱死神的魔掌，他仍然要抗争下去，要让自己活下去。

He closed his eyes and composed himself with infinite precaution. He steeled himself to keep above the suffocating languor that lapped like a rising tide through all the wells of his being. It was very like a sea, this deadly languor, that rose and rose and drowned his consciousness bit by bit. Sometimes he was all but submerged, swimming through oblivion with a faltering stroke;and again, by some strange alchemy of soul, he would find another shred of will and strike out more strongly.

他闭上眼睛，设法使自己平静下来，不敢有丝毫的松懈。令人窒息的疲倦像涨潮一样，从他的身体各处涌来，他还是顽强地打醒精神，不让自己被疲倦淹没。这种要命的疲倦，就像大海一样，一浪又一浪地涨过来，一点一点地吞噬着他的意识。有时候，他被完全淹没其中，就这样默默地漂游;而有时候，凭借一种奇异的心灵作用，他又找回了些许精神力量，更加坚毅地前进。