范文一:疯狂英语阅读版
疯狂英语阅读版 第11期
A world apart 恍于隔世(上)
I pulled the old, knotted, pine door and peeped inside, 1)squinting my eyes to see through the floating dust and clutter of the villa's main entranceway. Tiny rays of dawn 2)filtered through the lacy Victorian curtains, throwing giant shadows of figurines and statues, on the 3)gilded 4)ornate wallpaper. The old and 5)rundown appearance of my childhood summer getaway 6)piqued my curiosity and guided me into the main reception area, where I remembered playing as a child.
The large hall widened, at the far end, into what appeared to be the dining area. White throw-cloths, carefully placed by the last owners, covered what was left of the more 7)elaborate carved, oak furniture. Adorning the old, decorative ceiling, hung the multi-crystalloid 8)chandelier, still hinting at the glamour and tasteful elegance, probably enjoyed by many of the well-to-do elite, living along the
Camden/Rockport coast of Maine.
Through the large, bay-window, I watched the waves break powerfully against the irregularly-placed 9)jetty stones, displaying the proud and dominant North Atlantic, in all its white 10)foamed fury. It was high tide. Glancing back at the large dining-table, fully capable of seating at least 30 "politically correct" guests, I imagined what a magnificent view diners
must have enjoyed, while feasting on lobsters and other seafood delicacies. Surely they were not adorned with the traditional tourist "lobster bibs" I thought, unable to refrain from the image, but then again, perhaps they were. It was a thought I quite enjoyed having.
The house stood silent and hidden, 11)atop the coastal 12)ledges and rocks of Belfast, Maine. Although unpopular with the locals, the 13)granite house was built in 1831 by the famous seafaring Captain Gordon Albright for his wife, Sarah, who undoubtedly, like many women of her day, watched the horizon from the widow's peak for her lover's return. Contained in the historic records are documents written by the Captain himself, describing the pain and torment of his return to Belfast, only to discover his family dead, victims of an outbreak of 14)cholera among the coastal settlers. Stricken with grief and despair over the loss of his beloved Sarah, the proud Captain Albright hung himself from the old barn's 15)rafters, and was buried by the ship's company, in the small family cemetery near his wife and their two young boys.
Continuing on my journey, I found myself mindlessly climbing, step-by-step, up the narrow passage to the widow's peak, overlooking the ocean. What a magnificent view of the majesty and partnership of water and land! The old, caned, high-back rocking chair still stood by the
window, suggesting the wait might have been long and enduring. The view across the blue-green ocean crests quieted my spirit for a moment, as I reflected upon the significance of the room, and the dedicated love brought to it by Sarah Albright. Qualities such as patience and loyalty came to mind, as I saw her in my deepest imagination, sitting quietly, her 16)shawl pulled tightly around her delicate shoulders; only a tiny flame of a whale-oil light to offer her husband, as a guide to a place of safety and home. In good while, the long awaited Captain Albright, searching the rocky coast with his 17)binoculars, eventually found the tiny flickering light, in which he recognized the quiet beauty of his wife's face, and turned his ship's bow toward it.
As the evening sky turned red with cool sunset hues, and the ocean settled calmly for the night, I seated myself comfortably into the high-back rocker and lit the old 18)kerosene light, still filled with oil:
cedar, I think. The breaking waves grew peaceful now, gently rolling into shore, unaware of my guardian 19)vigil. I placed my hands on the steel barrel of the pistol sitting idle on my lap, and reassuringly felt the coldness of the metal beneath my fingers. Closing my eyes, I thought about 1968, and, as the 20)whirling sounds of helicopters grew louder and louder, I drifted further and further away, to memories of an unfamiliar land of war and death. Vietnam smells like no other country in
the world! Odors of frying fish and rice, spices, and cow 21)manure quickly reminded me that I was no longer in my safe home in Maine, but in a world very different from my own. It occurred to me, at the time, that people back in the world would probably describe Vietnam as beautiful, but I never thought so.
Tall green, wheat-like grasses bordered Tan Son Nhut airfield, first blowing forward in the humid air, then backward again, giving the illusion of subtle wave-like movement. Vietnamese workers, in the field, barely looked in our direction. It was a day like any other for them, I supposed, but for me, it wasn't the same at all. I was an Army nurse, sent to Vietnam in wartime and that made it significantly different. After landing, one of the young airmen kicked my 22)duffel bag off the 23)chopper, sending it flying just short of my feet.
"Hey, thanks, buddy!" I shouted upward, to no one in particular, 24)engulfed for a moment by a whirlwind of dust, stirred up as the chopper took off again. I had not been in Vietnam for one hour and I hated it already!
"Are you Lieutenant Pennet?" A young private called from behind me, 25)startling me for a moment with a quick, but lazy salute. I returned the
gesture and nodded.
"This way Mame."
Although my orders originally assigned me to Saigon, the driver informed me that I had been reassigned to a medical 26)triage unit in Da Nang, and handed me my new orders in a large manila envelope. There was no need to open it. What I really wanted, and needed, was rest, but the unexpected ride to Da Nang kept me alert, whether my body wanted to or not. The miles clicked away as one muddy rice-paddy after another passed, and still, not one human being, or beast of burden for that matter, turned in our direction. For a moment, I imagined I was looking at a picture, painted in oils of greens and bronze, a still-life on a canvas, casting surreal images to any passer-by. Elf-like figures wearing concave, grass hats appeared statuesque, and pasted into the scenery, not real-not human. You're being silly, I reminded myself, but around each bend in the road, the painted picture of my new world always seemed the same.
As the jeep, and my restless ride, came abruptly to an unexpected halt, I realized just how here-and-now my future really was.
Whirling sounds of aircraft thundered over me, making it difficult to
discern any reliable source of activity. A male voice shouted from somewhere: "Get that soldier over here!" Another voice simply said: "This one's dead, bag 'em!"
Shadows of Corpsmen pushed cots and stretchers into unseen places, creating the 27)uncanny impression of organized chaos. As the sand finally settled, I was able to make out the sign nearest me. Painted in large red letters it read: "VD Hut."
"Good Lord," I mumbled, quickly dismounting the vehicle with my gear.
"Can you tell me where Captain Collins is?" I asked the driver, who had lit himself a Marlboro, from a 28)crumpled pack of cigarettes taken from his pocket.
"That's him over there, Mam." He said, pointing to a dark-haired man in a white coat. I looked in his direction, and for a brief moment I found myself unable to move my feet. It was then I saw, and smelled the blood. As a medically-trained nurse, and a professional, I was used to the sight of blood. It's just, that there was so much of it. Soldiers laying on cots were not only covered with deep purple red bandages, but pools of oozing liquid, from missing appendages, dripped to the dirt floor and formed
puddles, eventually tracked here and there by the 29)throngs of medical corpsmen, and nurses, running about. The tent smelled like death! White lab-coats, streaked with red, walked everywhere; like robots, unaware of the amount of death they carried upon them.
"Get a grip, Maggie," I reassured myself, "you've seen this before, remember?" Secretly though, I knew it was a lie. I really hadn't seen this before, not even in surgery.
"Are you Margaret Pennet?" A soft voice asked amid the shouts, bringing my attention back to the moment.
"Yes, Sir." I replied, somewhat embarrassed. "Uh, Maggie actually, Captain. I'm sorry, I didn't see you."
"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. You're not afraid of blood,are you?" he
remarked, casually scratching his nose with a red-streaked index finger.
"No, Sir" I whispered, but, looking around the tent, I was afraid, I really was!
My days as an Army nurse were indistinguishable, with on-duty shifts
extending eighteen to twenty hours at times, allowing only brief periods for naps, coffee, and bad food. In between, the choppers of wounded kept coming, an endless supply of manpower and job security. While I grew accustomed to Da Nang's version of medical triage, and the constant activity of bandages, IV bottles and 30)tourniquets, the war in Viet Nam raged. There was never any time to make friends, or foster relationships, but my most precious moments were rare 31)snatches of time reading letters, from my grandfather, in Maine. It was the only connection that I had with all that remained human, loving, and mine.
Four and a half months of duty passed so slowly, it seemed as though my sense of time moved in slow-motion. Vietnamese villagers, civilians employed by the Army, often visited the compound with their families, showing-off their children to those of us who carried handy supplies of Hershey bars and hard, candy treats. In the beginning, it was in the faces of these children that I found some beauty in Viet Nam. Tiny creatures, with black hair and 32)puffy cheeks, 33)squealed with delight, and giggled while tied tightly in the 34)papoose swaddling of cloth, used to carry them on their mother's backs, or chests. For a while, my life became a bit tolerable, and the children remained my only power of keeping my sanity and dignity, in a world filled with blood and death. Perhaps it was my own fault, for being so naive and overwhelmingly optimistic with this
new life, for when tragedy came my way, in the end, I could not contain my grief, or sense of inhumanity which causes one of us to take the life of another, especially a child.
It was 1969 now, and the spring 35)monsoon season poured 36)torrential rains, with pounding intensity for several months. The compound, once cracked and dry, became a muddy mess, with tiny 37)ravines of water flowing in unimportant directions. By 4 o'clock the medical staff had finished at least three incoming choppers of wounded, and equipped a hospital evacuation team to Saigon. Exhausted and hungry, I untied my green surgical mask and walked outside the tent, face upward, hoping the rains would revive me enough to enjoy a good, hot dinner.
Not surprisingly, the cool rain felt good on my face. Whatever my shame and guilt was for this dirty war, it could never be washed clean by the rain. The forgiveness would have to come from a much higher source, than the monsoon rain clouds bursting overhead.
Suddenly, through the downpour, I noticed an old mamasan from the village, pushing her way through the tree line, and lines of wounded, carrying a 38)squalling infant in her arms. I knew her. She was Sergeant Casey's yobo, a woman he was taking care of and sleeping with until it
was time for him to return to his wife and family, in the States. Setting up housekeeping with a local mamasan was the thing to do, in Viet Nam. No one back home had to know, and no one blew the whistle. Looking back, it gave "Don't ask, don't tell" a whole new meaning to the military.
"Gee-I, you take --.you take," she insisted, aggressively, reaching up quickly, pushing the child toward me. I instinctively took the baby in my arms, without thinking. I had done it a hundred times before, and it was the sort of thing that happened everyday with the villagers, who handed their children to American soldiers, hoping for their favors of Candy-rations and other treats. This time however, within a second, the old woman turned and ran back into the trees, leaving the child, still crying and kicking, in my arms.
"Hey mamasan," I called after her, following behind, "you forgot your kid!" I didn't need this, I really didn't.
From across the compound, perhaps a hundred yards away, someone yelled in my direction. Turning, I recognized Captain Collins, and several other Army officers, trying to get my attention by motioning in military fashion that I was to stand to, and not move. I understood the order.
"Maggie, listen to me now," Captain Collins directed through the rain, holding his hands up showing caution. "Ya' alright?"
"Yea, what's wrong?" I didn't understand.
"Do you see that sand pit over to your right? Look now. Do you see it?"
I nodded.
"Throw the baby over there. Maggie listen to me! Do it now!"
"Yes, Sir, but---," I didn't understand. It was crazy, 39)lunatic: not Christian. How could I kill a child? I froze, undecided.
"Maggie!" Captain Collins called again, his voice demanding; this time, more immediate.
"Throw that kid, Lieutenant! Do it! NOW! That's an order!"
I heard nothing, neither the pounding of the rain, nor my heartbeat, or the screams of the baby in my arms. I looked at the tiny, round face with black eyes and without really understanding why, threw the infant as far
to my right as I could, in the direction of the sandpit. Within moments, I was thrown into a muddy 40)trench , as a triggered bomb exploded, sending body-parts, of a tiny, innocent Vietnamese baby, all over the compound.
Captain Collins simply said: "The old mamasans tape bombs to the inside of the kid's legs because they know that when they wake up and move, they'll blow you and the whole compound clear to Jesus. One less 41)gook to worry about, anyway! Want a beer, kid?" I heard him mumble under his breath, as he walked away from me, still stunned and curled in the mud: "Stupid broad."
"Hard ass, ain't he?" One of the other officers remarked, as he helped me to my feet. Another corpsman just walked off, into the downpour, shaking his head: "Don't mean nothin', just don't mean a damn thing."
After a few moments, I walked toward the huts, monsoon rains still pouring down, this time mixed with the smell of 42)sulfur, smoke and blood, 43)rippling in the water pools. For almost two hours I searched the compound for the delicate body parts of the exploded infant, as my sense of human decency directed me to do the right thing. It's funny what goes through one's mind at a time like this. I remember kneeling on the ground,
thinking if I should dig one large hole, or several, to bury this child. In the
end, I dug only one large burial plot, with my hands, and carefully placed
the severed baby-parts, some still missing into their final resting-place,
and marked the grave, with a piece of bamboo laying nearby. Then, I did
something I had not done since I was a child. I covered my face with my
hands in shame, and cried for a very long time. 我拉开那扇旧的松木门,还能感受到粗糙的树疤痕,斜着眼睛往里看。我看到的是漂浮在空
中的尘埃, 和别墅门廊里的凌乱摆设。几缕早晨的
阳光透过花边的维多利亚式窗帘射进来, 在那镀金的墙纸上留下雕像长长的影子。我还记得
小时候的夏天我就是从这里逃出去玩的,可现在却
衰败如斯~~好奇心驱使着我继续往前走,到了客厅,小时候在这里玩耍的情景仍然历历在目。
客厅被加宽了,在靠饭厅的那头加宽了。上届的屋主还很用心地用白布把那些做工巧究的
橡木家具盖好。在华丽的天花板上挂着一盏多层的水
晶枝状吊灯,依然是那么优雅漂亮。它曾经被许多的社会名流们交口称赞,可现在它在缅
因海岸的康登/岩石港上形影孤单。
透过巨大的凸窗,我可以看到海浪正在有力的摔打着防洪堤上那些参差不齐的石头,被它
掀起的白色泡沫仿佛在向人们述说北大西洋的骄傲和
强大。海水正在涨潮呢~我回过头看了看那张巨大的餐桌,大得完全可以容纳下30位“政
治清白”的客人。我想当这些来宾们在享用龙虾和其
他海产美味时,他们一定也可以同时欣赏到窗外壮观的场面。当然了,这些来宾们在吃龙
虾大餐时是没有系传统围兜的了,可我老是想着这些
来宾们系围兜的样子,或者他们真的系上了呢~我饶有兴趣地想着这个问题。
这个别墅静静的屹立在缅因州贝尔法斯特海岸的暗礁与岩石上面,在当地人中并不出名。
但这座花岗石别墅的缔造者却很有名,它是航海界名
人戈登?阿尔布莱特船长于1831年为他的爱妻莎拉建造的。毫无疑问,莎拉和她同时代的女
人一样,会在寡妇峰上翘首期望丈夫的平安归来。
从历史记载中发现有船长自己写的记录,他描述了自己在回贝尔法斯特路途中遇到的种种
艰难险阻。可当他回到家时却发现家人都在海岸居民
中流行的一次霍乱中死去。伤心欲绝之下,骄傲的戈登?阿尔布莱特船长在旧谷仓的椽子上
上吊自杀。水手们就把他和他的妻子、两个儿子埋
葬在一起。
我继续漫无目的地攀爬着,一步一步沿着狭窄的过道上了寡妇峰的山顶。俯瞰脚下的大海,
这是多么壮丽的景色啊,山和水完美地结合在了一
起! 那张古老的藤制高背摇椅仍然靠立在窗口,仿佛在告诉人们这是一个多么漫长而痛苦
的等待。看着远处那蓝绿色的浪涛,我的心灵出奇的
宁静。我想着这屋的意义,想着莎拉?阿尔布莱特为这屋付出的爱,她是多么的坚韧和忠贞~我眼前仿佛浮现出她的样子。她在安静地坐着,
娇弱的肩上紧紧地裹着一幅围巾。屋里只点着一盏鲸油灯,微弱的灯光就是照着丈夫安全回家的导航灯。过了好一会,莎拉苦苦等待的阿尔布
莱特船长终于出现了,他用望远镜探视前方,终于在怪石嶙峋的海岸上发现了一丝闪烁着的微光,他还看见了妻子那恬静的脸庞。于是他立刻
下令朝这个方向进发。
夜色降临,夕阳把天空染成了红色,大海也渐渐平静了下来。我很自在地坐在高背摇椅上,点燃了那盏旧煤油灯。灯盏里还有油,我猜是香柏
油。那桀骜不逊的海浪也慢慢恢复了平静,浪花温柔地卷上岸来,一点也不知道我在守护着他们。我把玩起放在大腿上的手枪,摸着那钢制的
枪膛,手指一阵冰凉。闭上眼睛,我想起了1968年,耳边也仿佛传来直升飞机螺旋桨的声音。声音变得越来越响,我的思绪也越走越远,回到
了那片充满了战争和死亡的陌生土地上。越南的味道和世界上其他任何国家的味道都不同! 夹杂着油炸鱼和大米的香味、辣椒、还有牛粪的味
道。这一切都提醒着我,我再也不是在我缅因安全的家里了,而是到了一块完全不同的地方。当时,还在家里的人们都说越南是个美丽的地方
,可我却从来没有这样想过。
唐山冲机场周围长满了高高的象小麦一样的杂草,在潮湿的空气中先是往前倒,然后又往后倒,就像海浪一般。在田里劳作的越南工人连头也
没有抬起来看我们一眼。我想,对他们来说,这只不过是平凡的又一天而已。但对我来说就显得意义非凡。我是个随军护士,在战争时期被派
遣到了越南。刚降落就有一位年轻的飞行员把我的背囊一脚踢了出来,刚好掉在我的脚边。
“嘿,谢了,伙计!” 我朝上面喊了一句,并没有针对任何一个人。飞机很快重新起飞,螺旋桨卷起的灰尘一下子就把我给笼罩住了。我到越
南还不到一个小时我就已经讨厌它了!
“你是彭妮特中尉吗?” 一个年轻的下士在我背后喊了一声,还很快给我敬了一个随随便便的军礼,把我吓了一跳。我回了个礼并点了点头。
“这边请。”
我原来的任务是到西贡去报到,可司机通知我说我被重新任命到一个在岘港的医疗救护点,并递给我一个用马尼拉麻纸信封装着的任命书。我
根本就不想打开它,我满脑子想的就是要休息。但是这意料之外的岘港之行却让我一路保持警惕,不管我的身体怎么想。我们驶过一个挨一个
的水稻田。可是一路上我们都没有见到其他任何人,或是其他驮载着东西的动物。这时候我认为我是在看着一幅画,一幅以绿色和青铜色为主
色的油画,一幅帆布上的静物图,为路人展现着超现实流派的映象。图画上有一群精灵一样的人,戴着凹进去的草帽,看上去很庄严,可脸很
模糊。“你又在瞎想了,” 我提醒自己说。可尽管汽车在路上转过了一个又一个的弯,展现在我面前的图画和就如同画好的图像一样一成不变
。
当我以为会这样一路行驶下去时,吉普车突然停了下来,我才意识到决定我命运的地方到了。
头顶上的飞机在轰隆隆作响,我根本不知道人们在干什么。远处传来一个男子的怒骂声“把那个士兵叫过来!” 另外一个声音简单的回答说“
他已经死了,把他们包起来~”
医药兵们忙碌地扛着担架冲到远处的一个地方,形成了一个怪异的情景,一个有组织的混乱情景。当尘沙慢慢落定时,我才看清离我最近的一
个标志。上面用大红字母写着:“VD 临时军营”。
“天啊,” 我咕哝着,迅速拿着装备从车上跳了下来。
“能告诉我柯林斯上尉在哪吗,” 我向那个司机问道。他正从自己的口袋中拿出一包皱巴巴的香烟,给自己点了一根万宝路。
“他在那边呢” 他指着一个黑头发白外衣的人说。我朝着他所指的方向看过去,一时间我楞在了那时,我觉得自己的脚都动不了。我看到的、
闻到的都是鲜血。作为一个受过专业医疗训练的护士,我早对鲜血见怪不怪了。可是我从没见过这么多的鲜血。那些躺在担架上的士兵身上包
扎着的绷带被染成了深紫红色,鲜血还不断地从伤口处渗出来,滴在地面上,形成了一个个的血坑,被来来去去的医生和护士们践踏着,在地
面上留下斑斑血迹,营救营里充斥着死亡的气息~身穿手术衣的人衣服上溅满了鲜血,在四处乱走,如同机器人一般,根本不在乎他们究竟抬
过多少死人。
“振作起来,玛格。” 我给自己打着气,“你见识过这些场面的,记得吗,”事实上,我心里很知道这只不过是个谎言。我从没有见过这样的
场面,即使在外科手术台上也没有见过这样的场面。
“请问你是不是玛格丽特?彭妮特,”一个温柔的声音从这嘈杂声中响起,把我的注意力重新拉回了现实。
“是的。我是。”我回答道,感到有点难为情。“嗯,叫我玛格可以了。上尉,对不起我没有看到你。”
“欢迎你的到来,中尉。你对血不会感到害怕吧,”他问道,漫不经心的用他那沾了血的食指刮了刮鼻子。
“我不怕。”我小声回答道。但是在看了营救营的周围,我是真感到害怕,非常害怕~
我作为个战地护士的日子已经记不清了,只记得时不时的要加班,每天的工作时间长达18到20个小时。期间只有很短的时间小憩一下,喝点咖
啡,再塞点难以下咽的食物。直升飞机源源不断地给我们送来伤员,我们整天有干不完的工作,根本不愁会失业。渐渐地我熟悉了岘港救治点
的工作,每天都是做不完的包扎、吊盐水、止血,而越南的战争也逐渐升级。我根本没有时间去交朋友,或者说是与他人培养关系。对我来说
,最开心的就是看到爷爷从缅因寄来的信。这成了我与外界人类社会唯一的接触方式,让我知道人与人间的关爱,知道亲人对自己的爱。
四个半月的工作时间过得特别慢,好象我的生物钟也慢了下来。一些越南村民,即受雇于美国军队的越南平民,经常带着他们的家人来到我们
的军事基地。他们常常很自豪地带着他们的孩子来,我们手里也有一些赫尔希牌巧克力,或各种糖果来招待他们。从这些小孩身上我看到了越
南的美丽。他们都长得小小的, 黑头发、肥嘟嘟的脸。高兴起来就咯咯大笑,如果婴儿襁褓裹得太紧的话,他们也会哇哇大叫。有了这些襁褓
,他们的妈妈就可以把他们背在背上或者放在胸前走来走去。从那一刻起,我才觉得我的日子变得稍微可以忍受。在这个充满了血腥和死亡的
地方,是这些天真的孩子让我保留了人的尊严,使我没有变疯。或许这正是我的错,对这些幼小的生命,我的想法太天真,太乐观。所以当悲
剧发生时,我控制不了自己的悲伤,彼此相残,却要赔上一个小孩的生命,这是多么的不人道。
在1969年的春天,季风带来了大量的降雨,瓢泼大雨密密麻麻地下了好几个月。 原来那干裂的军事基地成了一片泥泞之地,地上形成了无数细
细的小水沟,雨水在其中到处乱跳。到下午4点为止,直升飞机已经送了三趟的伤员过来,救疗队顺利完成了对伤员的救治,还派了一组医疗小
分队去支援西贡。一天工作下来我觉得又累又饿。解下我的绿色医疗口罩,我走出了救护营。我仰着头走在雨中,希望雨水能够把我打清醒,
然后吃顿热乎乎的饭菜。
果然,冰凉的雨水打在脸上很舒服。对这场非正义的战争,我一直感到耻辱,雨水是永远洗不掉我的罪恶的~只有上天才可以宽恕我的罪恶~
突然,在滂沱大雨中,我看见远远地跑来一个老妇人。只见她穿过树丛,再从伤兵堆里跑过来,手里还抱着一个嚎啕大哭的婴儿。我认识她~
她是凯西军士长家的人。她一直得到凯西的照顾,在凯西回到美国家人身边之前,他们还住在一起。在越南的美国驻军中,找一个当地的女人
来做家务是件很平常的事。美国的家人不知道,也没有人会到处乱说。现在想起来,我对部队的“不打听,不乱说”的做法才有了新的理解。
“嗯,你拿着~” 她坚持着,很用劲地把孩子往我身上送。我想也没想,很本能地接过了那孩子。这种事情我再熟悉不过了,每天都有一些村
民把他们的孩子往美国大兵身上送,希望能得到一些糖果饼干之类的好处。可这一次,不
到一秒钟,这位妇人扭头就走,完全不理睬我手中的
孩子还在又哭又闹。
“喂,老妈妈,”我跟在她后面喊,“你忘了你的孩子啦~”我可不要这小孩,真的不要。
在基地的另一边,大概一百尺左右的地方,有人冲我大声喊。我回过头,原来是柯林斯上尉还有其他的一些军官们。他们比着军队的手势,要
我原地站不要动。我很快明白了这个命令。
“玛格,现在听我说,”柯林斯上尉在雨中举着手,冲我喊“你没事吧,”
“我没事,怎么啦?”我给搞糊涂了。
“看到你右边的沙坑没有? 现在就看,看到了吧,”
我点了点头。
“把那小孩扔到那里去~玛格,听我说! 现在就扔!”
“是,长官。但是……”我还是没搞明白。这简直是疯了,一点都不像基督徒的做法。我怎么能杀一个小孩呢? 一时间我楞在那里。
“玛格~”柯林斯上尉又喊了起来,他的声音很严厉,听起来也更紧急。
“扔掉那个小孩,中尉~快扔~扔! 这是个命令。”
我什么都听不到了。雨声、心跳声、手里抱着孩子的哭声,统统都听不见。我看了看那小小的圆嘟嘟的脸,还有那黑色的眼睛,就这样带着疑
惑,用尽全力把这小孩扔了出去,扔到了右边沙坑的方向。很快传来了爆炸声,我也被摔到一个泥泞的战壕里面。这个娇小无辜的越南婴儿就
这样被炸成粉碎,碎片散在整个基地。
柯林斯上尉只是轻描淡写地说:“这些老女人把炸弹绑在孩子的大腿上,他们知道孩子们醒来时,只要动一动,就能把你和整个基地都炸飞上
天。总之又死了一个越南佬,我们可以省少一份心了! 想喝一杯吗?”我当时仍然没有回过神来, 还继续蜷缩在泥堆里。当上尉从我身边经过
时,我还听到他嘟囔了一句:“这蠢女人。”
“他真是个混蛋,你说是吗?”另一个军官把我扶了起来劝了我一句。又有一个医护兵走来,站在暴雨下使劲地摇着头:“这是什么意思,这他
妈的都怎么了,”
过了好一会,我才往那休息室走过去。雨水仍然在哗哗的下着,可这一次,雨中还混合着一股硫黄、硝烟和鲜血的味道,在水洼里不断地溅起
涟漪。我花了整整两个多小时在寻找那小孩的碎尸片,是我的良知驱使我这么做。人的想
法有时很奇怪,我记得当时我跪倒在地上,脑子里想
的却是我到底该挖一个大坑, 还是几个小坑把那小孩给埋了。最后我用双手挖了一个大坑
出来,小心翼翼地把那小孩的尸骸放下去,有一些尸
骨却永远也找不到了。我还在旁边找了一根竹子插在土上,算是给这个坟立了一个碑。最
后我做了一件我小时候都很少做的事:我羞愧地用双
手捂着自己的脸哭了起来,哭了好久,好久~
The footprints 上帝的足迹
One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord and as he walked along the beach with the Lord, across the sky flashed scenes from his life. And in each scene that flashed across the sky from his life, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand. One set of footprints in the sand belonged to him, and the other set of footprints in the sand belonged to the Lord.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him, the man looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there had been only one set of footprints. He also noticed that these single sets of footprints only occurred at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This bothered him very much, and so he decided to question the Lord about it.
"Lord," he said, "You said that once I decided to follow you, you would walk with me throughout all of my life. But I have noticed that during the most painful times in my life, there was only one set of footprints in the sand. Why would you leave me when I had needed you most? Why
would you abandon me?"
The Lord replied, "My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you." The small white envelope 信封的故事
It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no 1)identification, no 2)inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas. He didn't hate the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it; overspending, the 3)frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma and the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to 4)bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was 5)wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended and shortly before Christmas, there was a
6)non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black.
These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their 7)spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.
As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without 8)headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears.
It was a luxury the 9)ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up 10)walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his 11)tatters with false 12)bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.
Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."
Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league
football, baseball and 13)lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.
That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them
14)anonymously to the inner-city church.
On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.
For each Christmas, I followed the tradition, one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.
The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal it's contents.
As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but
the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.
You see, we lost Mike due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, three more joined it. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad.
The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.
我家的圣诞树上挂着一张小小的白色信封。上面即没有收信人的名字和寄信人的
签名、也没有任何提示。它挂在我家的圣诞树上已经十多年了。
一切都因丈夫迈克对圣诞的憎恨而起。他并不憎恨圣诞节本身的意义,但他讨
厌圣诞被商业化了。人们大把大把地花钱;在除夕夜的最后一分钟,围着圈不顾
一切地跑去为哈里大叔抢些彩带,为外祖母手抢些彩粉;疯狂地瓜分礼物,把一
切都抛在脑后。
正是因为知道他的这种感受,于是有一年我决定打破常规(平时都送些衬衣呀、
毛衣或是领带等礼物)。我为迈克准备了一些特别的东西。灵感是有来历的。
那年我们的儿子凯文十二岁,在学校摔跤队的初级班里接受训练。圣诞节前夕,
学校安排了一场非联赛的比赛,对手是本市教会资助的一只队伍,他们大部分队
员都是黑人。
这些小伙子们穿着破烂不堪的运动鞋,唯一能够绑在脚上的仿佛只有那条鞋带。
而与之形成鲜明对比的是我们的孩子,他们身披金蓝相间的制服,脚蹬崭新的摔
跤鞋,显得分外耀眼。
比赛开始了,我惊异地发现对方选手在摔跤的时候没有带专业头盔,只有一种
好象质地很薄的帽子保护着选手的耳朵。
对贫民队来说买一顶头盔显然是一种奢侈。毫无疑问我们以绝对的优势获胜,并取得了每个级别的冠军。比赛结束了,他们队的每个男孩从地毯上爬起来,在溃败的失意中昂首阔步装出一副获胜的样子,流露出像街头地痞一样的骄横和蛮不讲理。
坐在我身旁的迈克伤心地摇摇头说道:“我真希望他们其中一个可以赢。他们很有潜力,但是就这样输掉了比赛就等于输掉了他们的信心。”
迈克爱孩子——所有的孩子。他曾带过小型的联赛橄榄球队,棒球队和长曲棍球队,所以他了解他们。而我的灵感也由此而发。
当天下午,我就到本地的一家运动用品商店买了摔跤专用的头盔和鞋子,并以匿名的形式把礼物送到了本市的教会。
那个圣诞夜,我把一个信封挂在圣诞树上,里面写着我做的事情,并告诉迈克这是我送给他的礼物。他的笑容是那年圣诞节最明亮的饰物,多少年来那笑容还一直延续着。
每年的圣诞节,我都沿袭了这个传统。我曾送给一群智障儿童一副曲棍球,也曾送给一对年老的兄弟一张支票,因为圣诞节的前一个星期大火烧毁了他们的房子。等等,等等。
在我家,拆信成了圣诞节的亮点。圣诞节的早晨,那封信总是我们最后拆开的礼物,孩子们甚至忘记了他们自己的玩具,站在一旁,瞪着大大的眼睛,满心希望地看着父亲从树上取下信封,然后打开看里面的内容。
孩子们渐渐长大,玩具开始给更具有实用性的礼物让位了,但是信封从未失去它的吸引力。我们的故事永远都不会结束。
现在我们失去了迈克,他患了癌症先我而去。而圣诞依然年年到来,我仍沉浸在失去他的悲伤中,虽然我几乎扶不起圣诞树,但是圣诞夜我仍放一封信在树上。清晨,我看见有三四封信挂在树上。每封都是孩子们挂上去的,对大家都保密,都放了一封信在树上献给他们的父亲。
这个传统在延续,有一天会被我们的孙子传得更远,当他们瞪着大大的眼睛,满怀希望地等待着他们的父亲从树上取下信封。迈克的精神,像圣诞的精神将永远伴随着我们。
范文二:疯狂英语阅读版
《疯狂英语阅读版》精选
目录
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35
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48
57
66
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82
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1101.The Right Foot 古惑仔凯文 1204. If Only I had Known 假如我知道…… 1307. Adrift 漂流者箴言 1601. You! 生命掌握在你的手里――超越卓越的你 1602. What Time is It? 时间观念谈 1603. Graduation Speech 毕业典礼致辞 1802. Life Abroad 海外生活全攻略 1904. A Boy and His Tree 男孩和树 2003. Touch Me 抚摩我 2004. How to Win Respect 如何在工作中获得重视? 2101. Clouds 飘忽的浮云 2102. Beauty 美是大地的笑容 2103. Catch the Star that Will Take You to Your Dreams 抓住命运之星 2303. A Business Creed 职业信条 2501. Opportunity 善待机会 2807. 7 Secrets to a Great Life 美丽人生的7大秘诀 3104. The 4 Wives 生命中的四位爱人 3401. A Little Piece of Me 生命的过客 3602. Vest About a Dog 论犬 3603. Chief Black Hawk's Surrender Speech of 1832 黑鹰酋长的投降宣言 3604. The Buzzard, the Bat, and the Bumblebee 鵟,蝙蝠和大黄蜂 3904. The touchstone 试金石 4102. How Could You? 一只狗狗的临终告白 4102. 4104. Letting Go of Yesterday 让昨日随风
1
范文三:《疯狂英语阅读版》精选_英文
《疯狂英语阅读版》精选
英语原文
1101.The Right Foot 古惑仔凯文
Years ago, one of the girls in a group I used to 1)pal around with met a boy. He was new in town and seemed quite pleasant, had a 2)pixie-like smile and was fun to be around. We welcomed him into our circle. Donna and Kevin became an item. Before long, Donna noticed a few things missing, but she was a woman in love and excused them away without telling anyone. In the meantime, her new love rented a room from another member of our gang, a local deputy 3)sheriff. The deputy noticed something missing too, but he didn't excuse it. He confronted Kevin about some missing money. Kevin admitted he took it but said he thought he could put it back before it was missed, he was desperate and no one was there to ask. He said he knows it was wrong and he felt terrible about it, and said that if he would forgive him he'd 4)put the right foot forward. The deputy forgave him.
A few weeks later, Donna caught Kevin on a date with another woman. She was really hurt, but Kevin said he just wanted one last date to be sure he was in love because he wanted to ask her to marry him. He said if she'd marry him he'd be the happiest man in the world and he'd put the right foot forward from now on. Donna bought into that line too.
A few days later Kevin disappeared, along with over $2,000 of Donna's money and the deputy's checkbook. He was caught 2 weeks later writing stolen checks. Donna's money was gone.
When he came to trial, Kevin told the judge how sorry he was, and that he was anxious to make 5)restitution. He said he wanted to put the right foot forward and turn his life around. He was sentenced to time served,
6)probation, community service, and ordered to make restitution and undergo counseling.
A few months later Kevin attempted to rob a bank. There was a high-speed chase and he lost control of his car. He survived a crash into a stone wall guarding a 7)cemetery.
Kevin was fond of saying he wanted to put the right foot forward when he was in trouble. He'd been saying it all his life. Kevin lost his left leg in that car crash. Now, the right foot is all he has to put forward.
1204. If Only I had Known 假如我知道……
Thomas Carlyle lived from 1795 until 1881. He was a Scot essayist and historian. During his lifetime he became one of the world's greatest writers. But he was a human and humans make mistakes.
On October 17, 1826, Carlyle married his secretary Jane Welsh. She was an intelligent, attractive and somewhat temperamental daughter of a well-to-do doctor. They had their quarrels and misunderstandings, but still loved each other dearly.
After their marriage, Jane continued to serve as his secretary. But, after several years of marriage, Jane became ill. Being a hard worker, Carlyle became so absorbed in his writings that he let Jane continue working for several weeks after she became ill. She had cancer, and though it was one of the slow growing kind, she finally became confined to her bed. Although Carlyle loved her dearly, he very seldom found time to stay with her long. He was busy with his work.
When Jane died they carried her to the cemetery for the service. The day was a miserable day. It was raining hard and the mud was deep. Following the funeral Carlyle went back to his home. He was taking it pretty hard. He went up the stairs to Jane's room and sat down in the chair next to her bed. He sat there thinking about how little time he had spent with her and wishing so much he had a chance to do it differently. Noticing her diary on a table beside the bed, he picked it up and began to read it. Suddenly he seemed shocked. He saw it. There, on one page, she had written a single line. "Yesterday he spent an hour with me and it was like heaven; I love him so."
Something dawned on him that he had not noticed before. He had been too busy to notice that he meant so much to her. He thought of all the times he had gone about his work without thinking about and noticing her. Then Carlyle turned the page in the diary. There he noticed she had written some words that broke his heart. "I have listened all day to hear his steps in the hall, but now it is late and I guess he won't come today."
Carlyle read a little more in the book. Then he threw it down and ran out of the house. Some of his friends found him at the grave, his face buried in the mud. His eyes were red from weeping. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks. He kept repeating over and over again, "If I had only known, if I had only known." But it was too late for Carlyle. She was dead.
After Jane's death, Carlyle made little attempt to write again. The historians say he lived another 15 years, "weary, bored and a partial recluse." I share the story with in the hope that you will not make the same mistake. While our loved ones must have the money we make to live, it is the love we have that they really want. Give it now before it is too late.
1307. Adrift 漂流者箴言
In 1982 Steven Callahan was crossing the Atlantic alone in his sailboat when it struck something and sank. He was out of the shipping 1)lanes and floating in a life raft, alone. His supplies were few. His chances were small. Yet when three fishermen found him seventy-six days later (the longest anyone has survived a shipwreck on a life raft alone), he was alive-much skinnier than he was when he started, but alive. His account of how he survived is fascinating. How he 2)ingeniously managed to catch fish, how he fixed his solar 3)still, which 4)evaporates seawater to make fresh water, is very interesting.
But the thing that caught my eye was how he managed to keep himself going when all hope seemed lost, when there seemed no point in continuing the struggle, when he was suffering greatly, when his life raft was 5)punctured and after more than a week
struggling with his weak body to fix it, it was still leaking air and 6)wearing him out to keep pumping it up. He was starved. He was desperately 7)dehydrated. He was thoroughly exhausted. Giving up would have seemed the only 8)sane option.
When people survive these kinds of circumstances, they do something with their minds that gives them the courage to keep going. Many people in similarly desperate circumstances give in or go mad. Something the survivors do with their thoughts helps them find the 9)guts to carry on in spite of overwhelming odds.
"I tell myself I can handle it," wrote Callahan in his narrative. "Compared to what others have been through, I'm fortunate. I tell myself these things over and over, building up 10)fortitude…."
I wrote that down after I read it. It struck me as something important. And I've told myself the same thing when my own goals seemed far off or when my problems seemed too overwhelming. And every time I've said it, I have always come back to my senses.
The truth is, our circumstances are only bad compared to something better. But others have been through much worse. I've read enough history to know you and I are lucky to be where we are, when we are, no matter how bad it seems to us compared to our fantasies. It's a sane thought and worth thinking.
So here, coming to us from the extreme edge of survival, are words that can give us strength. Whatever you're going through, tell yourself you can handle it. Compared to what others have been through, you're fortunate. Tell this to yourself over and over, and it will help you get through the rough spots with a little more fortitude.
1601. You! 生命掌握在你的手里――超越卓越的你
Consider… YOU. In all time before now and in all time to come, there has never been and will never be anyone just like you. You are unique in the entire history and future of the universe. Wow! Stop and think about that. You're better than one in a million, or a billion, or a 1)gazillion…
You are the only one like you in a sea of 2)infinity!!!
You're amazing! You're awesome! And by the way, TAG, you're it. As amazing and awesome as you already are, you can be even more so. Beautiful young people are the
3)whimsey of nature, but beautiful old people are true works of art. But you don't become "beautiful" just 4)by virtue of the aging process.
Real beauty comes from learning, growing, and loving in the ways of life. That is the Art of Life. You can learn slowly, and sometimes painfully, by just waiting for life to happen to you. Or you can choose to accelerate your growth and intentionally
5)devour life and all it offers. You are the artist that paints your future with the brush of today.
Paint a Masterpiece.
God gives every bird its food, but he doesn't throw it into its nest. Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, it's truly up to you.
1602. What Time is It? 时间观念谈
Before meeting with my friend Leticia from Honduras, Central America, I would
ask her if she was arriving according to North American time or Latin American time. Smiling, she would answer, "A la hora Latina, of course." This meant that she would be late. The concept of time is very different for Latin Americans than for North Americans.
Life in the United States is fast-paced. There are fast food restaurants, overnight delivery services, shuttle services, instant cash machines, fast weight loss plans, and even instant minute rice. 1)Avidly following such sayings as, "The early bird gets the worm," and, "First come, first served," North Americans even have their meals in an efficient manner. Microwaves help nuke their early breakfasts, noon lunches, and five-o'clock dinners.
"Time is money" for big businesses. Everyone follows set agendas. Minutes are taken at meetings that are precisely scheduled. North Americans take pride in
2)juggling busy work schedules and still finding time to spend with family and friends.
Latin Americans stroll leisurely through life. They 3)amble past open-air restaurants, across shaded 4)patios tucked behind walls of 5)Bougainvillea. In the cafes, the service is slow but 6)courteous. Outside on the streets, people walk by, not for weight purposes, but to get somewhere. Buses arrive and depart on their own schedule, sometimes sooner or later than their printed times. And if you miss the bus, wait. One will come along eventually. Mid-morning breakfasts are homemade. Lunch is around three in the afternoon and dinner could be anytime after the arranged time. No one follows a set agenda, but business is accomplished at a 7)gradual and comfortable pace. Watches are not followed precisely, and one barely ever hears the question, "What time is it?"
This cultural difference has proven to be a problem for many North Americans visiting Latin American countries and vice versa. For example, this problem has
8)escalated on the issue of adoption. While in Honduras the summer of 1989, I translated for couples from the United States who were looking for children to adopt from Central America. All legal procedures were transacted between a lawyer from the U.S. and a Honduran lawyer. Legal matters on the North American end were handled almost immediately. The Honduran lawyer, however, was considerably slower with field work and paper work and was unable to give definite dates or times for the completion of the adoption. This created a cultural barrier and added to the confusion of the situation.
Without understanding these cultural differences, one could eventually feel offended. Having lived for five years in the Dominican Republic, I am able to understand the two concepts of time but am torn between them. People in the United States, while accomplishing much, need to live less by the clock and stroll through more of their days. Although Latin America can sometimes be very frustrating and remind us that, indeed, patience is a virtue, one should slow down long enough to enjoy life's simple pleasure. So whenever I am asked, "Why are you late?" I simply reply, "According to whose time?"
1603. Graduation Speech 毕业典礼致辞
Dear Dr. Stevens, teachers, tutors, classmates, and friends of the 1)ELI.
First I want to give thanks for this award to the graduation committee, but especially I want to give thanks to my teachers and tutors. They are great! They are always very interested in helping to motivate and encourage us. For example, every time that June says, "Yes!" or "Good job!", that motivates me, because I know it's a sincere comment. Or the contrary, if you do not do a good job, she will tell you: "Guys, I will be honest with you…" (then you better be prepared…because a bomb is about to fall down). It seems like they never get bored of teaching the same thing and they want you to 2)take advantage of this time. They are much more than teachers, they are friends like Leslie or Rika, tourist guides, like James Slater, they are also advisors and some times we see them like part of our families.
I also want to thank my classmates and friends because I have learned a lot from them. I think everybody deserves 3)recognition because while we are here studying English we have to overcome many difficulties.
I admire all the young people who came from countries that are very far away, and probably it is their first time traveling alone to an unknown country. Like Joyce who came from Taiwan. Beside this, there are other people who are not used to do some chores like cleaning and cooking or doing the laundry. There are couples who are here with their children, like Enzo and Janet, from Venezuela, who have to take care of Daniel, or the contrary, people like Josephine from Brazil who is alone and misses her husband and children. There are also people that have to keep in touch with their jobs. I remember Cristina, from Italy, who graduated last 4)session. She was always worried about all the things that her boss told her to do via e-mail. And with all these responsibilities, they have done a great job.
I have tried to follow the steps of my friends, like Meric, from Turkey, because he was always studying by himself doing exercises for the TOEFL; or the adapting to new cultures like Radek the tall guy from Poland has. The first day of class he looked so serious, he was so 5)uptight, but you should see him now. If you ask him: "Where are you from?", he will tell you in perfect Spanish, "Yo soy de Colombia", and you also should see him dancing the 6)merengue. You can see that here you can learn many things besides English. I also admire Nestor, from Venezuela who always had his homework ready before the deadline, this encouraged me to hurry up with mine. If you are a new or continuing student, I want to tell you few things that helped me during this time to improve my English. The first recommendation is, don't feel afraid of making mistakes. I learned this from my mother, she does not speak English very well but she doesn't care, she talks to everybody and she knows how to be understood. You have to tell yourself, ok, I made a mistake, so what! If we knew how to speak English, we would not be here. We have to accept that we are going to make mistakes, in this way we will be able to look at them and to learn from them. It is important to have confidence in ourselves, and that confidence grows with time and practice. To learn a language is not easy. Our teachers will give us the rules and tools for learning, and will help us during the process, but most of the work is from our side. It is not enough to go to class. It is necessary to practice what you have learned, to make sentences with the new words, to do "pleasure reading", as Barbara Gillette would say.
Dear Dr. Stevens, teachers, tutors, classmates, and friends of the 1)ELI.
First I want to give thanks for this award to the graduation committee, but especially I want to give thanks to my teachers and tutors. They are great! They are always very interested in helping to motivate and encourage us. For example, every time that June says, "Yes!" or "Good job!", that motivates me, because I know it's a sincere comment. Or the contrary, if you do not do a good job, she will tell you: "Guys, I will be honest with you…" (then you better be prepared…because a bomb is about to fall down). It seems like they never get bored of teaching the same thing and they want you to 2)take advantage of this time. They are much more than teachers, they are friends like Leslie or Rika, tourist guides, like James Slater, they are also advisors and some times we see them like part of our families.
I also want to thank my classmates and friends because I have learned a lot from them. I think everybody deserves 3)recognition because while we are here studying English we have to overcome many difficulties.
I admire all the young people who came from countries that are very far away, and probably it is their first time traveling alone to an unknown country. Like Joyce who came from Taiwan. Beside this, there are other people who are not used to do some chores like cleaning and cooking or doing the laundry. There are couples who are here with their children, like Enzo and Janet, from Venezuela, who have to take care of Daniel, or the contrary, people like Josephine from Brazil who is alone and misses her husband and children. There are also people that have to keep in touch with their jobs. I remember Cristina, from Italy, who graduated last 4)session. She was always worried about all the things that her boss told her to do via e-mail. And with all these responsibilities, they have done a great job.
I have tried to follow the steps of my friends, like Meric, from Turkey, because he was always studying by himself doing exercises for the TOEFL; or the adapting to new cultures like Radek the tall guy from Poland has. The first day of class he looked so serious, he was so 5)uptight, but you should see him now. If you ask him: "Where are you from?", he will tell you in perfect Spanish, "Yo soy de Colombia", and you also should see him dancing the 6)merengue. You can see that here you can learn many things besides English. I also admire Nestor, from Venezuela who always had his homework ready before the deadline, this encouraged me to hurry up with mine. If you are a new or continuing student, I want to tell you few things that helped me during this time to improve my English. The first recommendation is, don't feel afraid of making mistakes. I learned this from my mother, she does not speak English very well but she doesn't care, she talks to everybody and she knows how to be understood. You have to tell yourself, ok, I made a mistake, so what! If we knew how to speak English, we would not be here. We have to accept that we are going to make mistakes, in this way we will be able to look at them and to learn from them. It is important to have confidence in ourselves, and that confidence grows with time and practice. To learn a language is not easy. Our teachers will give us the rules and tools for learning, and will help us during the process, but most of the work is from our side. It is not enough to go to class. It is necessary to practice what you have learned, to make sentences with the new words, to do "pleasure reading", as Barbara Gillette would say.
You have to speak, to listen, to think, to dream in English all the time.
In order to practice the language, we can take advantage of the facilities that the university offers to us. I am always reading the newspapers from the university, to practice English and to know what is going on. For example, one day I read that there were some free computing courses at the university, and I told Nestor, to take an HTML course, because he has a very nice web page with all his pictures from the ELI. It was great, because we learned something new and we were in a class like regular students. I also went to a class as a listener and it was a good opportunity to participate in a class.
Another good way to practice English is with a 7)language partner or a 8)host family, who want to meet people from other cultures. For us it is a great opportunity to talk to native speakers and to know more about the culture of this country. With my host family, the Gangemellas, I went on a picnic, to an ice cream festival, and I was glad to share with them Amy's birthday, the oldest daughter, and in general to talk to them and to know more about their life. Another thing that I liked to do is to go on Tuesdays to the Scrounge coffee shop, to see the shows. Usually they have comedians and it is a very good listening and comprehension exercise, especially to understand slang and informal talking. And as a plus they give you free coffee in very nice mugs. There are opportunities to meet people and practice English everywhere, at the bus stop, in a party, on the streets, at the library, or at the computer centers.
I also recommend that you see movies, watch TV, listen to the radio. The radio is very good to improve your listening skills. I remember that when I came here in the summer, I wanted to listen to the weather forecast, and the first day I could only understand something about 93, but they talked very fast and it was hard to understand what they said. The next day I was surprised that the temperature was the same that the day before and then I realized that 93 .7 was the dial of the radio station. It is incredible that I could not even notice that they have already finished the weather forecast. Now I am happy that I can listen the weather forecast while I am cooking, without paying too much attention to it.
But don't overload yourself, there are other people who want to do so many things at the same time that then, they can't do anything well. In conclusion my recommendation is don't worry, study hard and enjoy your time in Newark. Thank you and good luck.
Raysa Urdaneta
From Venezuela
1802. Life Abroad 海外生活全攻略
At first thought, the task of preparing to begin life away from home can seem
1)daunting, if not overwhelming. Being surrounded by an unfamiliar culture, environment and social 2)norms, while being away from family and friends, is something which more and more Chinese students experience in the quest to gain a western education.
With school courses drawing to a close, many students find themselves in the midst of preparing for further study abroad. As a foreign teacher, I often found myself
being turned to for answers to help 3)demystify the process and add moral support in many student decisions to journey overseas. Therefore, based on my experience, the following five steps may prove useful in assisting prospective overseas students in their preparations to study overseas.
1 Get to know your new home before you land in it
There is no substitute for good preparation. Arm yourself with background knowledge by researching information about the country you are going to. Learning about the history, culture, tradition, language and even details such as food, music, transport, weather and social activities of your new host country are all important. Thanks to the Internet, most of this can be found at the click of a button.
If you are fortunate enough to make the 4)acquaintance of a foreign native (from the country you wish to study in), be sure to ask them as many questions as possible on things such as good places to live, the cost of transport or important celebrations during the year. The information they provide would most likely not be published in any textbooks or tourist magazines.
2 Attitude is everything.
Don't underestimate the power of the mind in determining how events turn out. Decide how to approach any situation, before you are placed in it. Positive thoughts about your new circumstances and a positive attitude toward your new home and hosts will bring positive results.
Alternately, many people set themselves up for failure simply by talking themselves out of success. Don't 5)sabotage your chances at being happy and successful in your future study and new life before they have even started. Maintain focus on one or two major goals (not too many) and work steadily and gradually towards these.
3 Pack using your head and your heart.
It's not easy being practical when deciding what to pack and there is always that temptation to bring cherished personal belongings such as books, letters or 6)fluffy toys. Whatever you bring, make sure that is will be something that you think might help your chances of succeeding.
This includes practical items such as study materials, old class notes, favorite textbooks or pens and even the contact details of previous teachers. It might also include some small luxuries such as study music or well-packaged snack foods. Items of sentimental value such as a flipbook with photographs of family and friends or a favorite item of clothing can help you feel closer to home.
4 Remember your roots.
Contact people you care about before and after. You are a person with feelings and
7)relocating overseas is a big event. Talk to your close friends and family about your thoughts, dreams and fears for your new venture before you leave and make sure you keep in regular contact after you arrive and during your time away. Sharing the experience always halves any burdens and doubles the excitement of any achievements. Besides, with the ease and convenience of communicating via the Internet nowadays, there is no excuse not to keep in touch!
It is important to realize that while new and exciting things may be happening to
you in your new environment, things and people back at home will also be changing. It is possible to feel isolated and experience "reverse culture shock" when you return home for a visit after an extended period of time away. The extent of this can be determined by such things as how involved you become in your new culture and how involved you stay in your original culture. Remember your roots, they are an important part of who you are.
5 Take opportunities as they come.
Learn from all experiences. Value both your achievements and disappointments as learning experiences that can be applied to future situations in life. Value all positive outcomes and more importantly, don't take negative outcomes at face value. Instead, try to see the lessons in mistakes and turn them into opportunities for future improvement. Opportunities are present all the time, but often they go by unnoticed. Recognizing opportunities is a skill which anyone can learn through practice and patience.
In summary, travelling overseas is an amazing opportunity for personal growth, which not everyone has the chance, or the 8)inclination to take part in. By no means should my advice be taken as the only way to do things. The beauty of learning through experience is that it proves that there is no right and wrong way, instead preparing you for the best personal way in which you can deal with issues as they arise. Still, I hope my suggestions will be of assistance to students (including previous ones of my own) who will study abroad from 2004 onward and I wish all the very best of success.
1904. A Boy and His Tree 男孩和树
A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and play around it every day. He climbed to the tree top, ate the apples, took a 1)nap under the shadow… He loved the tree and the tree loved to play with him.
Time went by…The little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree.
One day, the boy came back to the tree and looked sad. “Come and play with me,” the tree asked the boy.
“I am no longer a kid, I don’t’ play around trees anymore.” The boy replied, “I want toys. I need money to buy them.” “Sorry, but I don’t have money…but you can pick all my apples and sell them. So, you will have money.” The boy was so excited. He picked all the apples on the tree and left happily. The boy didn’t come back after he picked the apples. The tree was sad.
One day, the boy returned and the tree was so excited. “Come and play with me.” The tree said. “I don’t have time to play. I have to work for my family. We need a house for 2)shelter. Can you help me?” “Sorry, but I don’t’ have a house. But you can cut off my branches to build your house.” So the boy cut all the branches of the tree and left happily.
The tree was glad to see him happy but the boy didn’t appear since then. The tree was again lonely and sad. One hot summer day, the boy returned and the tree was delighted. “Come and play with me!” the tree said.
“I am sad and getting old. I want to go sailing to relax myself. Can you give me a boat?” “Use my trunk to build the boat. You can sail and be happy.” So the boy cut the tree trunk to make a boat. He went sailing and did not show up for a long time.
Finally, the boy returned after he left for so many years. “Sorry, my boy. But I don’t’ have anything for you anymore. No more apples for you.” the tree said. “ I don’t have teeth to bite.” The boy replied. “ No more trunk for you to climb on.” “I am too old for that now.” the boy said. “I really want to give you something…the only thing left is my dying roots.” The tree said with tears. “I don’t’ need much now, just a place to rest. I am tired after all these years.” The boy replied. “Good! Old tree roots are the best place to lean on and rest. Come here, please sit down with me and have a rest.” The boy sat down and the tree was glad and smiled with tears…
This is a story of everyone. The tree is our parent. When we were young, we loved to play with Mom and Dad… When we grow up, we leave them, and only come to them when we need something or when we are in trouble. No matter what, parents will always be there and give everything they could to make you happy. You may think that the boy is cruel to the tree but that's how all of us are treating our parents.
2003. Touch Me 抚摩我
Touch me. Don't be afraid. I can't hurt you. Go ahead and touch my smooth surface. Feel the cold, glass-like smoothness and the 2)crevices and lines that make me what I am. Use both hands if you wish. We are more similar than you dare to believe.
Touch my face. Yes, I have a face like yours. It has 3)weathered the centuries as yours has the years. My face portrays my evolution. Yours, the birth and death of a generation. My face has aged like yours as we have endured together the testimony of earth's elements.
I have eyes like yours. My 4)inscriptions stare out at you as I search for the meaning of why we are here. I look into your eyes and see who you are. Who am I? I was formed millions of years past and now you see the results of my evolution.
I can feel your hands and the sweat from your palms flow into the countless combination of the letters that make me. I know you. I have known you since I was able to breathe in the air as my smoothness began to take shape and my color matured along with natural flaws. You have known me since the days when you came to take me from my mother.
You cannot hear me. I am static and unmoving. But, I can hear your murmurs and your cries of pain and sadness. Your sons and daughters ask why? There are no answers. I am very old. I have seen everything and I am none the wiser for the pain and suffering I have witnessed since I rose from the 5)bowels of the earth. I have witnessed the conflict, the death, the civilizations, and the societies that have come before you. Yet I remain mystified about this day.
I feel sad yet alive with a purpose. I have come to know those who are now an integral part of the reason for my being here at this place and time. That purpose has become apparent as I stand before you on this day while your 6)brethren gather to witness my reflections and the changes of light that mirror your soul.
I am a reflection of you . . .
I am all of you . . .
I am your spirit . .
I am The Wall.
2004. How to Win Respect 如何在工作中获得重视?
June was part of a team that had struggled hard to finish a difficult 1)assignment. "I wanted to call it a day and get home as much as anyone," she recalls. But she found herself saying, "I'm sorry, but we need to do some more work on this."
Suddenly she was the most unpopular person in the room. No one agreed with her, and some were openly angry that she was 2)rocking the boat. "But I stuck to my guns," she says. "When the report was presented we were 3)commended for picking up on the very thing I said we'd missed. I was right and everyone had to respect that." THE POPULARITY TRAP
Respect versus popularity—it is the old conflict between being professional and being personal. We want to do a good job, but we want to be friends with everyone, too. The truth is, you can't always be liked if you do your job property. And the desire to keep everyone happy can become a weakness.
"At best," says management consultant Jennie Lumley, "worrying about what others think makes us reactive when we need to be 4)proactive. At worst, we're so busy playing the office sweetheart that we lose sight of the demands of the job and our needs."
This is a particular problem for women professions, Lumley finds. "It's a childhood
5)hangover. We all long to be the most popular girl in school. Also, girls are brought up to try to please. This need to be liked gets in the way of career progress. At work, men don't 6)give a thought to what others think so long as they get their way." AT TIMES YOU HAVE TO BE TOUGH
Although we would all love to be Ms Popular at home and in the office, at work the task is not to be liked, but to be effective, says computer sales executive Andrea. "This is possibly the single most important lesson we can learn. You can't always be popular. You shouldn't have to be; it's not what you're there for. Progress depends on having your own ideas and sticking to them. And that means having the 7)guts to make difficult decisions when you have to," she says.
The soft decision is never a real option, as many women find. Pat had to deal with a colleague who had repeatedly been warned about her 8)absenteeism, and now had to be told to go. When Pat tried to fire her, the colleague was so 9)distraught, Pat gave her another chance.
"It was a disaster," Pat says. "I had fired her and she'd walked away from it. My colleagues were 10)resentful. I lost their respect, my bosses' and my own. And I still had to deal with her in the end!"
We're aware from day one in our first job that every decision we make is either a building block or a 11)stumbling block on our career path. We should use the time to lay the groundwork of future respect by being professional I.e. responsible, innovative,
12)diligent and reliable.
Respect is never given for nothing. Claire knew that she was offered a move to
Paris with her finance company because she had gained a reputation for keeping cool under fire. And the next step up the ladder would depend on her performance in Paris. "It's essential to build regard if you're going to be able to do what you want in your job," she says. Winning respect enhances all you do. A proposal for change is more likely to be well received; an application for a raise or a request for promotion is more likely to succeed.
COUNTDOWN TO RESPECT
Know what you believe in and stick to it. Nothing loses you respect quicker than
13)inconsistency.
Keep your distance. Be friendly but not over familiar. Don't confide intimate details.
Keep your own counsel. Don't share all your dilemmas. Even if you resolve them you'll have left the impression that you're 14)indecisive or unable to cope with pressure.
Don't ask anyone to do anything you wouldn't do yourself.
Communicate—simply and often.
Keep your eye on the objective.
Don't get drawn into colleagues' personal lives.
Keep cool. Don't respond instantly or say yes to everything.
Keep your head. A calm presence is an invaluable asset.
Be good at your job. Know that you're good. Self-respect is the key. It'll show up in the way people deal with you.
Accept that you can't please all the people all the time—or even some of the people all of the time.
GENTLE PERSUASION
The woman who builds her professional 15)edge in this way isn't condemned to loneliness and isolation. You can be firm without being unpleasant, and being tough doesn't mean being rude or 16)confrontational. Persuasive and 17)assertive are the
18)watch words.
"To make the right decisions and push them through, you will need the kid glove more often than the boxing glove," Lumley suggests. And a sense of humor is vital. If you're doing your job properly you'll seldom be everyone's favorite person. But the 19)payoff comes in the form of a deeper liking and admiration. Respect is like money in the bank: You have to put it in before you can draw it out. Don't worry about popularity, work on respect. That will take you a lot further in the long run.
2101. Clouds 飘忽的浮云
I've opened the curtain of my east window here above the computer, and I sit now in a holy theater before a sky-blue stage. A little cloud above the neighbor's trees
1)resembles 2)Jimmy Durante's nose for a while, then becomes 3)amorphous as it
4)slips on north. Other clouds follow, big and little and tiny on their march toward whereness. 5)Wisps of them lead or 6)droop because there must always be leading and drooping.
The trees seem to laugh at the clouds while yet reaching for them with swaying
branches. Trees must think that they are real, rooted, somebody, and that perhaps the clouds are only tickled water which sometimes blocks their sun. But trees are clouds, too, of green leaves—clouds that only move a little. Trees grow and change and
7)dissipate like their airborne cousins.
And what am I but a cloud of thoughts and feelings and aspirations? Don't I put out
8)tentative mists here and there? Don't I occasionally appear to other people as a ridiculous shape of thoughts without my intending to? Don't I drift toward the north when I feel the breezes of love and the warmth of compassion?
If clouds are beings, and beings are clouds, are we not all well advised to drift, to feel the wind 9)tucking us in here and 10)plucking us out there? Are we such rock-hard bodily 11)lumps as we imagine?
Drift, let me. Sing to the sky, will I. One in many, are we. Let us breathe the breeze and find therein our roots in the spirit.
I close the curtain now, feeling broader, fresher. The act is over. Applause is sweeping through the trees.
2102. Beauty 美是大地的笑容
Beauty means this to one and that to the other. And yet when anyone of us has seen that which to him is beautiful he has known an emotion which is in every case the same in kind.
A ship in sail, a blooming flower, a town at night, a lovely poem, leaf shadows, a child’s grace, the starry skies, apple trees in spring—the thought of beauty—these are the drops of rain that keep the human spirit from death by draught. They are a stealing and a silent refreshment that we perhaps do not think about but which goes on all the time. Beauty is the smile on the earth’s face, open to all, and needs but the eyes to see, mood to understand.
2103. Catch the Star that Will Take You to Your Dreams 抓住命运之星
Catch the star that holds your destiny, the one that forever twinkles within your heart. 1)Take advantage of precious opportunities while they still 2)sparkle before you. Always believe that your 3)ultimate goal is 4)attainable as long as you 5)commit yourself to it.
Though barriers may sometimes stand 6)in the way of your dreams, remember that your destiny is hiding behind them. Accept the fact that not everyone is going to approve of the choices you’ve made. Have faith in your judgment. Catch the star that twinkles in your heart and it will lead you to your destiny’s path. Follow that pathway and uncover the sweet sunrises that await you.
Take pride in your accomplishments, as they are 7)stepping stones to your dreams. Understand that you may make mistakes, but don’t let them discourage you. Value your capabilities and talents for they are what make you truly unique. The greatest gifts in life are not purchased, but acquired through hard work and determination. Find the star that twinkles in your heart—for you alone are capable of making your brightest dreams come true. Give your hopes everything you’ve got and you will catch the star that holds your destiny.
2303. A Business Creed 职业信条
Fireman's Fund Record, July 1914
To respect my work, my associates and myself. To be honest and fair with them as I expect them to be honest and fair with me. To be a man whose word carries weight. To be a 1) booster, not a 2) knocker; a pusher, not a kicker; a motor, not a 3) clog. To base my expectations of reward on a solid foundation of service rendered; to be willing to pay the price of success in honest effort. To look upon my work as opportunity, to be seized with joy and made the most of, and not as painful 4) drudgery to be reluctantly endured.
To remember that success lies within myself; in my own brain, my own ambition, my own courage and determination. To expect difficulties and force my way through them, to turn hard experiences into capital for future struggles.
To interest my heart and soul in my work, and aspire to the highest efficiency in the achievement of results. To be patiently receptive of just criticism and profit from its teaching. To treat equals and superiors with respect, and 5) subordinates with kindly encouragement.
To make a study of my business duties; to know my work from the ground up. To mix brains with my efforts and use system and method in all I undertake. To find time to do everything needful by never letting time find me or my subordinates doing nothing. To 6) hoard days as a 7) miser does dollars, to make every hour bring me 8) dividends in specific results accomplished. To 9) steer clear of 10) dissipation and guard my health of body and peace of mind as my most precious 11) stock in trade. Finally, to take a good 12) grip on the joy of life; to play the game like a gentleman; to fight against nothing so hard as my own weakness, and endeavor to grow in business capacity, and as a man, with the passage of every day of time.
2501. Opportunity 善待机会
The air we breathe is so freely available that we take it for granted. Yet without it we could not survive more than a few minutes. For the most part, the same air is available to everyone, and everyone needs it. Some people use the air to 1)sustain them while they sit around and feel sorry for themselves. Others breathe in the air and use the energy it provides to make a magnificent life for themselves.
Opportunity is the same way. It is everywhere. Opportunity is so freely available that we take it for granted. Yet opportunity alone is not enough to create success. Opportunity must be seized and acted upon in order to have value. So many people are so anxious to 2)"get in" on a "ground floor opportunity", as if the opportunity will do all the work. That's impossible.
Just as you need air to breathe, you need opportunity to succeed. It takes more than just breathing in the fresh air of opportunity, however. You must make use of that opportunity. That's not up to the opportunity. That's up to you. It doesn't matter what "floor" the opportunity is on. What matters is what you do with it.
2807. 7 Secrets to a Great Life 美丽人生的7大秘诀
A great life doesn't happen by accident. A great life is the result of 1)allocating your time, energy, thoughts, and hard work towards what you want your life to be. Stop setting yourself up for stress and failure, and start setting up your life to support success and ease. A great life is the result of using the 24/7 you get in a creative and thoughtful way, instead of just what comes next. Customize these "secrets" to fit your own needs and style, and start creating your own great life today!
1. S—Simplify. A great life is the result of simplifying your life. People often
2)misinterpret what simplify means. It's not a way to remove work from your life. When you focus on simplifying your life, you free up energy and time for the work that you enjoy and the purpose for which you are here. In order to create a great life, you will have to make room for it in yours first.
2. E—Effort. A great life is the result of your best effort. Creating a great life requires that you make some adjustments. It may mean re-evaluating how you spend your time, or choosing to spend your money in a different way. It may mean looking for new ways to spend your energy that coincide with your particular definition of a great life. Life will reward your best effort.
3. C—Create 3)Priorities. A great life is the result of creating priorities. It's easy to spend your days just responding to the next thing that gets your attention, instead of intentionally using the time, energy and money you have in a way that's important to you. Focus on removing the 4)obstacles that get in the way of you making sure you are honoring your priorities.
4. R—Reserves. A great life is the result of having reserves—reserves of things, time, space, energy, money. With reserves, you acquire far more than you need—not 6 months living expenses, but 5 years worth; not 15 minutes of free time, 1 day. Reserves are important because they reduce the fear of consequences, and that allows you to make decisions based on what you really want instead of what the fear decides for you.
5. E—Eliminate 5)distractions. A great life is the result of eliminating distractions. Up to 75% of your mental energy can be tied up in things that are draining and distracting you. Eliminating distractions can be a difficult concept to many people, since they haven't really considered that there is another way to live. Look around at someone's life you admire. What do they do that you would like to incorporate into your own life? Ask them how they did it. Find ways to free up your mental energy for things that are more important to you.
6. T—Thoughts. A great life is the result of controlling your thoughts so that you accept and allow for the possibility that it actually can happen to you! Your belief in the outcome will directly dictate how successful you are. Motivated people have specific goals and look for ways to achieve them. Believing there is a solution to the same old problems you encounter year after year is vitally important to creating a life that you love.
7. S—Start. A great life is the result of starting. There's the old saying everyone's familiar with "a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." In order to even move from the couch to the refrigerator, you have to start. There's no better time to start than today. Don't wait for a raise, or until the kids get older, or the weather is
better. Today, right now, is the right day to start to take a step in the direction of your heart's desires. It's what you do TODAY that will make a difference in your life tomorrow.
3104. The 4 Wives 生命中的四位爱人
There was a rich merchant who had 4 wives. He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to 1)delicacies. He took great care of her and gave her nothing but the best.
He also loved the 3rd wife very much. He’s very proud of her and always wanted to show off her to his friends. However, the merchant is always in great fear that she might run away with some other men.
He too, loved his 2nd wife. She is a very considerate person, always patient and in fact is the merchant’s 2)confidante. Whenever the merchant faced some problems, he always turned to his 2nd wife and she would always help him out and tide him through difficult times.
Now, the merchant’s 1st wife is a very loyal partner and has made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and business as well as taking care of the household. However, the merchant did not love the first wife and although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her.
One day, the merchant fell ill. Before long, he knew that he was going to die soon. He thought of his 3)luxurious life and told himself, “Now I have 4 wives with me. But when I die, I’ll be alone. How lonely I’ll be!”
Thus, he asked the 4th wife, “I loved you most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I’m dying, will you follow me and keep me company?” “No way!” replied the 4th wife and she walked away without another word.
The answer cut like a sharp knife right into the merchant’s heart. The sad merchant then asked the 3rd wife, “I have loved you so much for all my life. Now that I’m dying, will you follow me and keep me company?” “No!” replied the 3rd wife. “Life is so good over here! I’m going to remarry when you die!” The merchant’s heart sank and turned cold.
He then asked the 2nd wife, “I always turned to you for help and you’ve always helped me out. Now I need your help again. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?” “I’m sorry, I can’t help you out this time!” replied the 2nd wife. “At the very most, I can only send you to your grave.” The answer came like a bolt of thunder and the merchant was 4)devastated.
Then a voice called out: “I’ll leave with you. I’ll follow you no matter where you go.” The merchant looked up and there was his first wife. She was so skinny, almost like she suffered from 5)malnutrition. Greatly grieved, the merchant said, “I should have taken much better care of you while I could have!”
Actually, we all have 4 wives in our lives
The 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it’ll leave us when we die.
Our 3rd wife is our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, they all go to
others.
The 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how close they had been there for us when we’re alive, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.
The 1st wife is in fact our soul, often neglected in our pursuit of material, wealth and sensual pleasure.
Guess what? It is actually the only thing that follows us wherever we go. Perhaps it’s a good idea to cultivate and strengthen it now rather than to wait until we’re on our deathbed to 6)lament.
3401. A Little Piece of Me 生命的过客
When he told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which has just smashed. There were pieces of me all over the tidy, tan tiles. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, explaining it was for the best, I could do better, it was his fault and not mine. I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not 1)immune; perhaps one did not become immune to such 2)felony.
He left and I tried to get on with my life. I filled the kettle and put it on to boil, I took out my old red 3)mug and filled it with coffee watching as each coffee 4)granule slipped in to the 5)bone china. That was what my life had been like, endless
6)omissions of coffee granules, somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee. Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning I pretended not to hear it. That's what Mike's leaving had been like, sudden and with an awful finality. I would rather just 7)wallow in uncertainty than have things finished. I laughed at myself. Imagine getting all philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee. I must be getting old.
And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror. A young woman full of promise and hope, a young woman with bright eyes and full lips just waiting to take on the world. I never loved Mike anyway. Besides there are more important things. More important than love, I insist to myself firmly. The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.
He doesn't haunt my dreams as I feared that night. Instead I am flying far across fields and woods, looking down on those below me. Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter, brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it. I realize later, with some degree of understanding, that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly. The next night my dream is similar to the previous nights, but without the hunter. I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony. I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me, there is another person, not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend, but there is someone out there who is my soul mate. I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together, what Mike has is merely a little part of my time in earth, a little understanding of my physical being. He has only, a little piece of me.
3602. Vest About a Dog 论犬
Gentlemen of the Jury: The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him
and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he had 1)reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitor to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most.
A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-consider action. The people who are 2)prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us, may be the first to throw the stone of 3)malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.
The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never 4)deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or 5)treacherous is his dog. A man's dog stands by him in 6)prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the 7)wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that had no food to offer. He will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounters with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his 8)pauper master as if he were a prince.
When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings, and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens. If fortune drives the master forth, an 9)outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher 10)privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his 10)paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.
This bardly an ideal courtroom speech, but is a very good model for speeches given in a less confrontational environment .His words work not by persuading us of anything new, but by evoking images and sentiments that we already have. The feelings that come to the fore are not the speaker's, but our own. It is this that makes it so easy to identify with the speech. Which dog were you thinking of as you read it?
3603. Chief Black Hawk's Surrender Speech of 1832 黑鹰酋长的投降宣言 I fought hard. But your guns were well aimed. The bullets flew like birds in the air, and 1)whizzed by our ears like the wind through the trees in the winter. My warriors fell around me. The sun rose dim on us in the morning, and at night it sunk in a dark cloud, and looked like a ball of fire. That was the last sun that shone on Black Hawk. He is now a prisoner to the white men. He has done nothing for which an Indian ought to be ashamed. He has fought for his countrymen, the 2)squaws and 3)papooses, against white men, who came year after year, to cheat them and take away their lands. You know the cause of our making war. It is known to all white men. They ought to be ashamed of it. Indians are not deceitful. The white men speak bad of the Indian and look at him 4)spitefully. But the Indian does not tell lies. Indians do not steal.
An Indian who is bad as the white men could not live in our nation; he would be put to death, and eaten up by the wolves. The white men are bad schoolmasters; they
carry false books, and deal in false actions; they smile in the face of the poor Indian to cheat him; they shake them by their hands to gain their confidence, to make them drunk, to deceive them, and ruin our wives. We told them to leave us alone, and keep away from us; they followed us, and 5)beset our paths, and they 6)coiled themselves among us, like the snake. They poisoned us by their touch. We were not safe. We lived in danger. We were becoming look them, 7)hypocrites and liars, 8)adulterous lazy 9)drones, all talkers and no workers. The white men do not 10)scalp the head; but they do worse—they poison the heart.
We looked up to the Great Spirit. We went to our great father. We were encouraged. His great council gave us fair words and big promises; but we got no satisfaction. Things were growing worse. There were no deer in the forest. The 11)opossum and
12)beaver were fled; the springs were drying up, and our squaws and papooses without 13)victuals to keep them from starving; we called a great council, and built a large fire. The spirit of our fathers arose and spoke to us to avenge our wrongs or die. We all spoke before the council fire. It was warm and pleasant. We set up the war-whoop, and sharpened the 14)tomahawk; our knives were ready, and the heart of Black-hawk 15)swelled high in his 16)bosom, when he led his warriors to battle. He is satisfied. He will go to the world of spirits contented. He has done his duty. His father will meet him there, and commend him.
Farewell, my nation! Farewell to Black Hawk.
3604. The Buzzard, the Bat, and the Bumblebee 鵟,蝙蝠和大黄蜂
If you put a 1)buzzard in a pen six or eight feet square and entirely open at the top, the bird, in spite of his ability to fly, will be an absolute prisoner. The reason is that a buzzard always begins a flight from the ground with a run of ten or twelve feet. Without space to run, as is his habit, he will not even attempt to fly, but will remain a prisoner for life in a small jail with no top.
The ordinary bat that flies around at night, a remarkable 2)nimble creature in the air, cannot take off from a level place. If it is placed on the floor or flat ground, all it can do is 3)shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt, painfully, until it reaches some slight 4)elevation from which it can throw itself into the air. Then, at once, it takes off like a flash.
A bumblebee if dropped into an open tumbler will be there until it dies, unless it is taken out. It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying to find some way out through the sides near the bottom. It will seek a way where none exists, until it completely destroys itself.
In many ways, there are lots of people like the buzzard, the bat and the bee. They are struggling about with all their problems and 5)frustrations, not realizing that the answer is right there above them.
3904. The touchstone 试金石
When the great library of Alexandria burned, the story goes, one book was saved. But it was not a valuable book; and so a poor man, who could read a little, bought it for a few coppers.
The book wasn't very interesting, but between its pages there was something very interesting indeed. It was a thin strip of vellum on which was written the secret of the "Touchstone"! The touchstone was a small pebble that could turn any common metal into pure gold.
The writing explained that it was lying among thousands and thousands of other pebbles that looked exactly like it. But the secret was this: The real stone would feel warm, while ordinary pebbles are cold.
So the man sold his few belongings, bought some simple supplies, camped on the seashore, and began testing pebbles. He knew that if he picked up ordinary pebbles and threw them down again because they were cold, he might pick up the same pebble hundreds of times. So, when he felt one that was cold, he threw it into the sea. He spent a whole day doing this but none of them was the touchstone. Yet he went on and on this way. Pick up a pebble. Cold—throw it into the sea. Pick up another. Throw it into the sea. The days 1)stretched into weeks and the weeks into months.
One day, however, about mid-afternoon, he picked up a pebble and it was warm. He threw it into the sea before he realized what he had done. He had formed such a strong habit of throwing each pebble into the sea that when the one he wanted came along, he still threw it away.
So it is with opportunity. Unless we are 2)vigilant, it's easy to fail to recognize an opportunity when it is in hand and it's just as easy to throw it away.
4102. How Could You? 一只狗狗的临终告白
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my 1)antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?"-but then you'd 2)relent, and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of 3)nuzzling you in bed and listening to your 4)confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day. Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never 5)chided you about bad decisions, and
6)romped with 7)glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person"-still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.
Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog 8)crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled
themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch-because your touch was now so infrequent-and I would have defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you 9)resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her". They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers". You had to
10)pry your son's fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed "No, Daddy. Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my 11)pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you-that you had changed your mind-that this was all a bad dream…or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.
I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a 12)tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the 13)hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged
me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself-a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.
And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a 14)thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
4104. Letting Go of Yesterday 让昨日随风
On Saturday, February 12 two thousand, two things happened that changed everything in my life. The first was that on this day my baby sister was married. She was twenty-six this day, and yet to me she was still my baby sister. I suppose that I pictured her as a little girl, and treated her like one in order to hold onto and
1)preserve my own youth. Until I saw her in her wedding dress I still had a vision of her with 2)chubby little cheeks and long, dark-brown 3)pigtails blowing in the wind, perhaps even a 4)permanent 5)smudge of chocolate around her pink lips. I guess it's true that you see only what you want to see. Where did this beautiful woman with the glowing 6)complexion and gentle curves come from?
I was happy that day, and also sad. Gone were the days of me bossing her around and telling her what she should do with her life. My bossy behavior had earned me the nickname Lucy. If you are a Peanuts fan then you can clearly imagine my behavior as an older sister. To me it wasn't an 7)insult; I rather like the nickname Lucy. I happen to think that Lucy is strong and has incredible self-confidence, although she is a little
8)overbearing at times. I did my best to 9)live up to the standards 10)set forth by this dynamic cartoon character.
I left the reception to get some air because suddenly I was overcome with grief at the realization that I was no longer a child. I went outside and walked to a nearby playground where there were children playing on the slide, the swings and digging in the dirt. There was a little girl 11)twirling around on a bar, one knee wrapped tightly around the bar and fashioned behind her knee. It was all I could do to sit there and just watch, for I too wanted to get on that bar with her and see if I could still hold the all-time twirling record (ninety-nine times in fifth grade). Somewhere inside I knew that I would break my neck, and I was wearing a 12)bridesmaid dress. Not exactly play ground material. And so I sat watching the children play. I'm not sure how long I sat there before my sister came and joined me. We talked about how we are grown up now and shed a few tears for our childhood days gone by. As she wiped a tear from my eye she lovingly said, "you'll always be Lucy to me." We hugged.
My cousin Mike walked over and told my sister that it was time to cut the cake. And then he dropped bomb number two on me. "Hey, did you guys hear that Charles Schultz died today?" He said it like it was no big deal. He took my sister's arm and turned to head back for the reception hall. "Coming?" They asked. "In a minute." I replied, and sat back down on the bench, 13)dizzy from what he had just told me. Dead? How could Charles Schultz be dead? He was my creator! And though I have never met the man personally, he has always been like an invisible father to me. He
did, after all, fashion a famous character after me. I lost so many things on this day. Innocence slipped away from me like a thief in the night: come and gone before I could do anything about it, taking with it all the treasures that I held most valuable in my heart. I felt myself grow up, all in one moment. Reality rushed in around me like a hurricane tide. There was nowhere to run to. All I could do was sit there and watch it destroy and reshape what had existed only a moment before. I was no longer a child. I was no longer Lucy who knew what was best for everyone else. I saw, for the first time, what I really was—a thirty-year old woman with a husband of my own, and soon, a child of my own.
I allowed the tide to carry my sadness out with it. Take it out to sea, for it serves no purpose in my life. I stood up from the bench; a little taller than I was when I sat down. I turned and headed back to the hall, hoping I didn't miss the cutting of the cake. It was the day my sister grew wings of her own and left the nest. It was the day that Lucy died, and I was born.
范文四:03.《疯狂英语阅读版》精选_汉语译文
《疯狂英语阅读版》精选
汉语译文
1101.The Right Foot 古惑仔凯文
几年前,我那帮姐妹中一名叫当娜的女孩结识了一个男孩。他刚搬到镇上来,有着精灵般迷人的笑容。他很快就和大家打成一片,而且在我们的圈子里也很受欢迎。当娜和凯文成了一对。不久,当娜发现不见了一些东西,但热恋中的她并没把失窃的事放在心上,也没跟任何人提起。
那时,凯文还从我们的一个朋友——本地的副治安官那儿租了一个房间。之后他发现丢了些钱,但他并没有让此事不了了之,而是直截了当地质问凯文。
凯文承认钱是他拿的,但他说他以为能在别人发现此事之前把钱放回去,因为当时他的处境很绝望、很无助。他承认了错误,并对自己的行为感到羞耻。他说如果治安官原谅他的话,他将会改过自新。于是治安官原谅了他。
几周以后,当娜发现凯文跟另一个女人约会。她很伤心。但凯文却对她说,那只是最后一次约会,好以此确认自己是爱她的,因为他希望当娜能嫁给他。他说,如果当娜愿意嫁给他,他就是这世界上最幸福的人了,而且他从此会洗心革面,做到最好。当娜被他的话打动了。
几天后,凯文本人连同当娜的2000美元和治安官的支票本一块消失了。两周后当他用偷来的支票付帐的时被抓获,但当娜的钱没了
当凯文在法庭上接受审讯时,他对法官说,他非常地懊悔,很想把钱归还给原主。他说他希望能够洗心革面,从新做人。凯文最终被判入狱,缓期执行,他需服务社区,归还窃款并接受心理辅导。
几个月之后,凯文企图打劫银行。他在飙车躲避警察追截的时候,汽车失控了,一头撞到了墓地外的石墙上,但他却大难不死。
凯文在遇到麻烦的时候,总喜欢用洗心革面来为自己开脱。他已经这样讲了一辈子了。在那次车祸中,凯文失去了他的左腿。现在,他只能拖着残疾的身体面对生活了。
1204. If Only I had Known 假如我知道……
托马斯·卡莱尔(1795——1881)是苏格兰的散文家和历史学家,也是世界上一流的作家。但无论这位作家有多么地了不起,他毕竟也是一个凡人,凡人就免不了会犯错误。在1826年,10月17日,卡莱尔与他的秘书简·威尔斯结了婚。简的父亲是一位非常富有的医生,她聪明、美丽,但就是有点喜怒无常。虽然夫妇俩不时也会吵吵架,但感情还是蛮好的。结了婚后,简仍给卡莱尔当秘书。可是几年后,简却病倒了。但简还是继续带病工作了好几周,由于卡莱尔对写作非常地投入,所以,他并没有阻止简。简得的是癌症,虽然发作得比较慢,但最终,她还是病倒在床。尽管卡莱尔非常地
爱简,但因为忙于工作,他很少抽时间来陪简。简死后,她的亲朋好友都到她的墓地参加葬礼。那是一个悲痛的日子。天上下着滂沱大雨,道路泥泞不堪。葬礼后,卡莱尔回到家里,心情非常沉重。他爬上楼梯,来到简的房间,坐在她床边的椅子上。回想起自己很少抽时间陪伴爱侣,卡莱尔非常地后悔,恨不得时间可以倒流。卡莱尔瞥见桌上放着简的日记本,便拿起来看。突然,他好象感到非常震惊。他看到了这样的一句话,“昨天,他陪了我一个小时,我感觉到了天堂般幸福。我喜欢他这样做。”他开始意识到一些 1
范文五:03.《疯狂英语阅读版》精选汉语译文
《疯狂英??语阅读版?》?精选
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汉?语译?文
?1?101?The R(???ight? ?Foo?t ?古惑?仔凯文?
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几年前??,我那帮姐??妹中一名?叫?当娜的?女孩?结识?了一个?男?孩。他刚??搬到镇上来??,有着精?灵?般迷人?的笑?容。?他很快?就?和大家打??成一片,而??且在我们?的?圈子里?也很?受欢?迎。
当?娜?和凯文成??了一对。不??久,当娜?发?现不见?了一?些东?西,但?热?恋中的她??并没把失窃??的事放在?心?上,也?没跟?任何?人提起?。?
那时,凯文还从????我们的一?个?朋友—?—本?地的?副治安?官?那儿租了??一个房间。??之后他发?现?丢了些?钱,?但他?并没有?让?此事不了??了之,而是??直截了当?地?质问凯?文。?
?凯文承?认?钱是他拿??的,但他说??他以为能?在?别人发?现此?事之?前把钱?放?回去,因??为当时
他的??处境很绝?望?、很无?助。?他承?认了错?误?,并对自??己的行为感??到羞耻。?他?说如果?治安?官原?谅他的?话?,他将会??改过自新。??于是治安?官?原谅了?他。?
,当娜发??现凯文跟另??一个女人?约?会。她?很伤?心。?但凯文?却?对她说,??那只是?几周以?后?
最后??一次约会?,?好以此?确认?自己?是爱她?的?,因为他??希望当娜能??嫁给他。?他?说,如?果当?娜愿?意嫁给?他?,他就是??这世界上最??幸福的人?了?,而且?他从?此会?洗心革?面?,做到最??好。当娜被??他的话打?动?了。
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几?天后?,凯文?本?人连同当??娜的200??0美元和?治?安官的?支票?本一?块消失?了?。两周后??当他用偷来??的支票付?帐?的时被?抓获?,但?当娜的?钱?没了
??当凯文在法??庭上接受?审?讯时,?他对?法官?说,他?非?常地懊悔??,很想把钱??归还给原?主?。他说?他希?望能?够洗心?革?面,从新??做人。凯文??最终被判?入?狱,缓?期执?行,?他需服?务?社区,归??还窃款并接??受心理辅?导?。
?几个?月之?后,凯?文?企图打劫??银行。他在??飙车躲避?警?察追截?的时?候,?汽车失?控?了,一头??撞到了墓地??外的石墙?上?,但他?却大?难不?死。
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?凯文在遇??到麻烦的时??候,总喜?欢?用洗心?革面?来为?自己开?脱?。他已经??这样讲了一??辈子了。?在?那次车?祸中?,凯?文失去?了?他的左腿??。现在,他??只能拖着?残?疾的身?体面?对生?活了。?
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??1204.?? If? ?Onl?y ?I ?had? ?Know??n 假如我??知道……?
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托马斯???卡莱?尔(1?7?95——??1881)??是苏格兰?的?散文家?和历?史学?家,也?是?世界上一??流的作家。??但无论这?位?作家有?多么?地了?不起,?他?毕竟也是??一个凡人,??凡人就免?不?了会犯?错误?。在?182?6?年,10??月17日,??卡莱尔与?他?的秘书?简??威尔?斯结了?婚?。简的父??亲是一位非??常富有的?医?生,她?聪明?、美?丽,但?就?是有点喜??怒无常。虽??然夫妇俩?不?时也会?吵吵?架,?但感情?还?是蛮好的??。结了婚后??,简仍给?卡?莱尔当?秘书?。可?是几年?后?,简却病??倒了。但简??还是继续?带?病工作?了好?几周?,由于?卡?莱尔对写??作非常地投??入,所以?,?他并没?有阻?止简?。简得?的?是癌症,??虽然发作得??比较慢,?但?最终,?她还?是病?倒在床?。?尽管卡莱??尔非常地爱??简,但因?为?忙于工?作,?他很?少抽时?间?来陪简。??简死后,她??的亲朋好?友?都到她?的墓?地参?加葬礼?。?那是一个??悲痛的日子??。天上下?着?滂沱大?雨,?道路?泥泞不?堪?。葬礼后??,卡莱尔回??到家里,?心?情非常?沉重?。他?爬上楼?梯?,来到简??的房间,坐??在她床边?的?椅子上?。回?想起?自己很?少?抽时间陪??伴爱侣,卡??莱尔非常?地?后悔,?恨不?得时?间可以?倒?流。卡莱??尔瞥见桌上??放着简的?日?记本,?便拿?起来?看。突?然?,他好象??感到非常震??惊。他看?到?了这样?的一?句话?,“昨?天?,他陪了??我一个小时??,我感觉?到?了天堂?般幸?福。?我喜欢?他?这样做。??”他开始意??识到一些? ?1
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