雙語(yǔ)名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(46)

12歲的阿富汗富家少爺阿米爾與仆人哈桑情同手足。然而，在一場(chǎng)風(fēng)箏比賽后，發(fā)生了一件悲慘不堪的事，阿米爾為自己的懦弱感到自責(zé)和痛苦，逼走了哈桑，不久，自己也跟隨父親逃往美國(guó)。

成年后的阿米爾始終無法原諒自己當(dāng)年對(duì)哈桑的背叛。為了贖罪，阿米爾再度踏上暌違二十多年的故鄉(xiāng)，希望能為不幸的好友盡最后一點(diǎn)心力，卻發(fā)現(xiàn)一個(gè)驚天謊言，兒時(shí)的噩夢(mèng)再度重演，阿米爾該如何抉擇?

故事如此殘忍而又美麗，作者以溫暖細(xì)膩的筆法勾勒人性的本質(zhì)與救贖，讀來令人蕩氣回腸。

下面就跟小編一起來欣賞雙語(yǔ)名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(46)的精彩內(nèi)容吧！

Then I was screaming, and everything was color and sound, everything was alive and good. I was throwing my free arm around Hassan and we were hopping up and down, both of us laughing, both of us weeping. "You won, Amir agha! You won!"
然后我高聲尖叫，一切都是那么色彩斑斕、那么悅耳動(dòng)聽，一切都是那么鮮活、那么美好。我伸出空手抱著哈桑，我們跳上跳下，我們兩個(gè)都笑著、哭著。"你贏了，阿米爾少爺!你贏了!"

"We won! We won!" was all I could say. This wasn't happening. In a moment, I'd blink and rouse from this beautiful dream, get out of bed, march down to the kitchen to eat breakfast with no one to talk to but Hassan. Get dressed. Wait for Baba. Give up. Back to my old life. Then I saw Baba on our roof. He was standing on the edge, pumping both of his fists. Hollering and clapping. And that right there was the single greatest moment of my twelve years of life, seeing Baba on that roof, proud of me at last.
"我們贏了!我們贏了!"我只說出這句話。這是真的嗎?在過去的日子里，我眨眨眼，從美夢(mèng)中醒來，起床，下樓到廚房去吃早餐，除了哈桑沒人跟我說話。穿好衣服。等爸爸。放棄?；氐轿以瓉淼纳睢Ｈ缓笪铱吹桨职衷谖覀兊奈蓓斏希驹谖蓓斶吘?，雙拳揮舞，高聲歡呼，拍掌稱快。就在那兒，我體驗(yàn)到有生以來最棒的一刻，看見爸爸站在屋頂上，終于以我為榮。

But he was doing something now, motioning with his hands in an urgent way. Then I understood. "Hassan, we--"
但他似乎在做別的事情，雙手焦急地?fù)u動(dòng)。于是我明白了，"哈桑，我們……"

"I know," he said, breaking our embrace. "Inshallah, we'll celebrate later. Right now, I'm going to run that blue kite for you," he said. He dropped the spool and took off running, the hem of his green chapan dragging in the snow behind him.
"我知道，"他從我們的擁抱中掙脫，"安拉保佑，我們等會(huì)再慶祝吧?，F(xiàn)在，我要去幫你追那只藍(lán)風(fēng)箏。"他放下卷軸，撒腿就跑，他穿的那件綠色長(zhǎng)袍的后褶邊拖在雪地上。

"Hassan!" I called. "Come back with it!"
"哈桑!"我大喊，"把它帶回來!"

He was already turning the street corner, his rubber boots kicking up snow. He stopped, turned. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "For you a thousand times over!" he said. Then he smiled his Hassan smile and disappeared around the corner. The next time I saw him smile unabashedly like that was twenty-six years later, in a faded Polaroid photograph.
他的橡膠靴子踢起陣陣雪花，已經(jīng)飛奔到街道的拐角處。他停下來，轉(zhuǎn)身，雙手放在嘴邊，說:"為你，千千萬萬遍!"然后露出一臉哈桑式的微笑，消失在街角之后。再一次看到他笑得如此燦爛，已是二十六年之后，在一張褪色的寶麗萊照片上。

I began to pull my kite back as people rushed to congratulate me. I shook hands with them, said my thanks. The younger kids looked at me with an awestruck twinkle in their eyes; I was a hero. Hands patted my back and tousled my hair. I pulled on the string and returned every smile, but my mind was on the blue kite.
人群涌上來向我道賀，我開始把風(fēng)箏收回來。我跟他們握手，向他們道謝。那些比我更小的孩童望著我的眼神充滿敬畏，我是個(gè)英雄。人們伸手拍拍我的后背，摸摸我的頭發(fā)。我邊拉著線，邊朝每個(gè)人微笑，但我的心思在那個(gè)藍(lán)風(fēng)箏上。

Finally, I had my kite in hand. I wrapped the loose string that had collected at my feet around the spool, shook a few more hands, and trotted Home. When I reached the wrought-iron gates, Ali was waiting on the other side. He stuck his hand through the bars. "Congratulations," he said.
最后，我收回了自己的風(fēng)箏。我撿起腳下的卷軸，把松弛的線收好，期間又握了幾雙手，接著走回家。走到那扇鍛鐵大門時(shí)，阿里在門后等著，他從柵欄伸出手，"恭喜。"

I gave him my kite and spool, shook his hand. "Tashakor, Ali jan."
我把風(fēng)箏和卷軸給他，握握他的手,"謝謝你，親愛的阿里。"

"I was praying for you the whole time."
"我一直為你祈禱。"

"Then keep praying. We're not done yet."
"繼續(xù)祈禱吧，我們還沒全贏呢。"