gnawed

简明释义

英[nɔːd]美[nɔd]

adj. 缺刻状的

v. 咬；侵蚀（gnaw 的过去分词）

英英释义

单词用法

同义词

反义词

例句

1.Mice gnawed their way into the box.

老鼠咬穿箱钻到里面。

2.The tiger in the cage gnawed listlessly at a bone.

笼子里的老虎在没精打采地啃一根骨头。

3.I am flawed. I am gnawed. I have been ignored.

我是有缺点的，我也有缺陷，我也会被忽视。

4.Her mistake gnawed at her conscience.

她的错误折磨着自己的良心。

5.The tiger in the cage gnawed listlessly at a bone.

笼子里的老虎在没精打彩地啃一根骨头。

6.The despair gnawed me as far as I break up.

绝望啃食着我，直到我支离破碎。

7.Some of the furniture in this old house has been gnawed away by rats.

这所老房子里的一些家具已经被老鼠嗑坏了。

8.The dog gnawed on the bone for hours.

这只狗啃了骨头好几个小时。

9.She felt a sense of anxiety that gnawed at her mind.

她感到一种焦虑感在她的心中折磨着她。

10.The mouse gnawed through the wires, causing a power outage.

老鼠啃断了电线，导致停电。

11.He gnawed on his fingernails when he was nervous.

他在紧张时啃自己的指甲。

12.The persistent doubts gnawed at her confidence.

那些持续的怀疑侵蚀了她的自信。

作文

The old wooden cabin stood at the edge of the forest, its paint peeling and its structure slowly succumbing to the passage of time. For years, it had been a refuge for weary travelers and a hideout for adventurous children. However, as I approached it one chilly autumn afternoon, I noticed something unsettling. The once sturdy beams of the cabin were now riddled with holes, and the wood appeared to be slowly crumbling away. It was as if nature itself was reclaiming what was once hers. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy as I imagined how many memories had been made within those walls. Yet, the most haunting aspect of the cabin was not just its dilapidated state; it was the way the elements had gnawed (啃噬) at its very foundation. I stepped inside, and the air was thick with the scent of dampness and decay. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the walls, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. As I walked further in, I could hear the faint sound of wood creaking under my weight. Each step felt like a tribute to the past, a reminder of the laughter and joy that once filled this space. But then, I noticed the way the floorboards had gnawed (啃噬) away at their edges, splintered and uneven, as if they were surrendering to the relentless force of time. In the corner of the room, an old rocking chair swayed gently, despite the absence of any breeze. It seemed to beckon me closer, urging me to sit and reflect on the stories that had unfolded here. I imagined children playing games, families gathering around the fireplace, and lovers whispering sweet nothings in the glow of the flames. Yet, even these joyful memories could not escape the reality of the cabin's decline. The walls, once vibrant and full of life, were now being gnawed (啃噬) by rot and neglect. As I sat in the rocking chair, I contemplated the passage of time and how it affects all things. Just like the cabin, we too are subject to the forces of nature and the inevitable wear and tear of life. Our bodies age, our dreams may fade, and relationships can become strained. The very essence of our existence is often gnawed (啃噬) away by challenges, disappointments, and the relentless march of time. Yet, amidst this decay, there is also beauty. The cabin, despite its state, still held echoes of laughter and warmth. It reminded me that even as we face the ravages of time, we can still find joy in the memories we create. Each scar, each mark left behind tells a story of resilience and survival. Just as the cabin had weathered storms and harsh winters, so too can we persevere through life's trials. As I left the cabin that day, I took one last look back. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the landscape. I realized that while the cabin was being gnawed (啃噬) away by the elements, it would always remain a part of the tapestry of my memories. It served as a reminder that life is a series of moments, some beautiful and some painful, but all significant in shaping who we are. In the end, it is not the physical structure that matters, but the experiences and emotions that linger long after the wood has gnawed (啃噬) away into nothingness.

这座老木屋坐落在森林边缘，油漆剥落，结构逐渐屈服于时间的流逝。多年来，它一直是疲惫旅行者的避难所，也是冒险儿童的藏身之处。然而，当我在一个寒冷的秋日下午走近它时，我注意到了一些不安的迹象。这座曾经坚固的木屋现在布满了洞，木头似乎正在缓慢崩溃。就像大自然正在夺回曾经属于她的东西。我不禁感到一阵忧伤，想象着在这些墙壁内曾经创造了多少回忆。然而，这座小屋最令人毛骨悚然的地方不仅仅是它的破败状态；而是自然力量如何在不断地啃噬（gnawed）它的根基。 我走了进去，空气中弥漫着潮湿和腐朽的气息。阳光透过墙壁的缝隙洒进来，照亮了在空气中舞动的灰尘颗粒。当我走得更远时，我能听到木头在我脚下轻微的吱吱声。每一步都像是对过去的致敬，提醒着我曾经充满欢声笑语的空间。但是，我注意到地板的边缘已经被啃噬（gnawed）得破碎不堪，变得不平整，仿佛它们正在向时间的无情力量投降。 房间的一角，一把旧摇椅轻轻摇晃，尽管没有任何微风。它似乎在召唤我靠近，催促我坐下，反思那些在这里发生的故事。我想象着孩子们在玩游戏，家庭围坐在壁炉旁，恋人们在火焰的微光中低声细语。然而，即使这些快乐的回忆也无法逃脱小屋衰退的现实。曾经生机勃勃的墙壁，如今被腐烂和忽视所啃噬（gnawed）。 当我坐在摇椅上时，我思考着时间的流逝以及它如何影响所有事物。就像这座小屋一样，我们也受到自然力量的影响，生活的磨损是不可避免的。我们的身体会衰老，梦想可能会消逝，关系也可能会变得紧张。我们存在的本质常常被挑战、失望和时间的无情推移所啃噬（gnawed）。 然而，在这种衰退中也有美丽。小屋尽管处于这样的状态，依然蕴含着欢笑与温暖的回声。它让我想起，即使我们面对时间的侵蚀，我们仍然可以在创造的回忆中找到快乐。每一道伤疤，每一个留下的痕迹都讲述着韧性与生存的故事。正如小屋经历了风暴和严冬，我们也可以在生活的考验中坚持下去。 当我离开那座小屋时，我最后回头望了一眼。太阳正在落山，为风景洒下温暖的光辉。我意识到，虽然小屋正被啃噬（gnawed）得体无完肤，但它将永远成为我记忆画卷的一部分。它提醒我，生活是一系列的瞬间，有些美好，有些痛苦，但在塑造我们是谁的过程中都具有重要意义。最终，重要的不是物理结构，而是那些在木头被啃噬（gnawed）成虚无后依然萦绕心头的经历和情感。