心靈美文_一個海地地震災(zāi)民的內(nèi)心獨白 AFTER SHOCKS

看盡繁華,才懂淡然;經(jīng)歷磨礪,才得從容;讀懂人心,才知隨緣。夜深人靜的時候，聆聽來自心靈的呼喚。走進心靈，體會初衷。以下是聽力課堂小編整理的心靈美文_一個海地地震災(zāi)民的內(nèi)心獨白 AFTER SHOCKS的資料，希望你會喜歡!

　　一月中旬,7.3級大地震襲擊海地,逾十五萬人喪生,當(dāng)?shù)靥幪幎际潜瘧K的景象,而幸存下來的人除了食不果腹,還生活在余震的夢魘中。地震發(fā)生后的一周,面對已成廢墟的家園,一個海地小說家拿起了筆,寫下了她的恐懼、擔(dān)憂、氣憤、感動,以及信念。讓我們一同走進這位海地婦女面對災(zāi)難時百感交集的內(nèi)心世界。 ——Lavender

 文字難度：★★★

　　The family has set up camp in my brother’s house. I live just next door, but it makes us feel better to be all in the same house. My brother, a novelist, is writing his articles; I am writing mine. From time to time a 1)tremor will make us pause and run back outside, just in case, to be safe. I wonder how long we will have to be so cautious, and I long for 2)normalcy.
　　
　　We sleep. We listen to the radio. We exchange information. Mostly, we have been trying to stay alive and sane since that Tuesday afternoon a week ago when the earthquake changed our lives forever. It doesn’t help that the earth continues to 3)convulse. Just this morning, we felt another tremor, the most violent since the earthquake itself. Let us hope it did not cause more deaths and damage.
　　
　　I do not recognize the streets of Port-au-Prince. In front of what used to be a school, three corpses are covered 4)demurely by a blue sheet. Feet and eyes carefully avoid the small 5)cadavers. A few miles down, the Sacré-Coeur church, where the upper-middle class used to be baptized, married, and buried, is a big pile of rubbish.
　　
　　Under the broken glass and bricks of the five-story Caribbean Supermarket—which carried the most varied imported products and where foreigners were most likely to meet one another—women, men, and children lie trapped, given up for dead. On Monday, rescuers managed to free from the site a young woman who was still alive. That same day, a grief-stricken family identified the body of a 27-year-old mother of a 6-month-old girl who was not so lucky.
　　
　　In the evening, the digging for bodies ceases, as does the search for drinking water and food, for news about missing parents and friends. Tired, terrified of the dark and its dreams of tremors, of the morning and its bad news, secretly—or not—relieved to be alive, we try to sleep.
　　
　　In the background, the few radio stations that can still broadcast convey the messages of agonized families and friends. A father comes all the way from a little village in the south of Haiti looking for his two daughters. Although his voice is breaking, he manages to 6)enunciate their names and please could somebody, anybody tell him if they are alive? The newscaster quickly repeats the message and introduces someone else. There are so many of them, a 7)litany of desperate voices.

　　全家人都住到我弟的屋子里了。雖然我本來就住他隔壁,現(xiàn)在整家人住到同一間屋子里,感覺更好。我弟是個小說家,他正在寫文章,我也在寫我的文章。不時,一陣震動會使我們趕忙放下手頭上的事,為安全起見,跑到屋外,以防萬一。我想知道如此提心吊膽小心謹(jǐn)慎地過日子還要持續(xù)多久,我渴望過正常的生活。
　　
　　我們睡覺,聽廣播,交換信息,但最主要的還是努力求生和保持理智,因為一周前的那個周二下午,一場地震永遠改變了我們的生活。而余震不斷,更是雪上加霜。就在今早,我們又遭遇了那場地震后最猛烈的一次余震,我們只能期盼這次余震不要導(dǎo)致更多的人命傷亡,不要造成更大的破壞。
　　
　　我都認不出Port-au-Prince街道了。在曾是一所學(xué)校的校址前,三具尸體被整齊地蓋在一塊藍布之下。大家的腳和視線都小心地避開那些小小的尸體。幾英里以外的那所Sacré-Coeur教堂——中上階層的人過去常在那接受洗禮,舉行婚禮或葬禮——現(xiàn)在只剩下一片斷壁殘垣。
　　
　　在那棟五層樓高的“加勒比海超市”——這里的進口商品最多樣,且外國人大多喜歡選擇在此與他人相會——男女老少被壓在破碎的玻璃和磚塊之下,搜救無望。周一,救援人員在那成功救出了一個仍生還著的年輕女子。同一天,有人沒那么幸運了,一個悲傷欲絕的家庭在那里確認了一具27歲女人的尸體,她是一名六個月大女嬰的母親。
　　
　　晚上,挖掘被困人員及尸體的工作停下了,搜尋飲用水、食物、失蹤父母及朋友訊息的工作也停下了。疲憊,恐懼黑夜及有關(guān)余震的夢魘,恐懼清晨及在清晨將獲悉的壞消息,暗自或公開慶幸自己還活著,在這種狀況下,我們努力入睡。
　　
　　少數(shù)仍能運作的廣播電臺四處播送著那些極度痛苦的家人朋友發(fā)來的信息。一位父親從海地南部一個小鄉(xiāng)村遠道而來尋找他的兩個女兒。盡管他的聲音已變嘶啞,他仍清楚地念出了她們的名字,請求有人能告訴他,女兒是否還活著。新聞廣播員快速復(fù)述了這條信息,并繼續(xù)播送其他人的信息。焦急尋人的民眾如此多,一連串播出的都是傷心欲絕的聲音。

　　
　　Night settles. The stars provide the only light; the electricity has not been restored. We save the energy from our Inverter generator system to run the Internet, so we can stay in contact with friends and family. The telephone lines are unreliable.
　　
　　But we Haitians are nevertheless connected, regardless of our social conditions, our economic status, our religious beliefs, if only because we share the same uncertainties, the same fears about the monstrous size of the task at hand.

　　Although the earthquake does remind us of our common and fragile destiny, the fact that the earth trembles and destroys with equal brutality luxurious and 8)shabby houses, small and huge enterprises does not obscure the inequalities that divide Haiti. Social and economic 9)disparities, the unjust distribution of our resources, and the 10)dire poverty of the majority of the population cannot magically 11)evaporate with the dust. But maybe this disaster will constitute a new beginning. Maybe the reconstruction effort that is now so urgent will also work to narrow the gaps between us.
　　
　　It is with a sense of warmth that I think of all the messages of 12)solidarity I have received from around the world. Like most Haitians, I marvel at the signs of humanity—fund-raisers, simple letters of sympathy, offers of help: “Just tell me what you need!” But it is our government’s responsibility to help those most in need.
　　
　　I am focusing now on what is essential in life: love and friendship. Like most people here, I am not watching the news. We have limited power. And anyway, it seems 13)futile and even 14)absurd to be a spectator of my own life, especially when the TV images highlight only the misery of our country. Many of us Haitians are offended by the coverage of the earthquake. Once more, a natural disaster serves as an occasion to showcase the impoverishment, to exaggerate the scenes of violence that are common to any 15)catastrophe of this type.
　　
　　No, I am not watching the news. I am too busy trying to find a way to keep my hope alive because the work in front of us is 16)humongous. I am busy rejoicing in the laughter of the children in the camp near our house, smiling at the comical reactions of a passer-by after a recent aftershock. I am busy shedding tears at the news of a miraculous rescue of six students from the wreckage of a university building. I am busy collecting the fragments of life that reflect the enormous courage and 17)resilience among us.
　　
　　I am busy loving life and my country.

　　夜幕降臨,因電力尚未恢復(fù),星星是唯一的光源。我們從變頻發(fā)電系統(tǒng)那省下電來連通網(wǎng)絡(luò),這樣我們就能和家人朋友們保持聯(lián)系。電話線路不太穩(wěn)定。
　　
　　盡管如此,我們海地人還是團結(jié)聯(lián)系在一起了,不分社會地位、經(jīng)濟地位以及宗教信仰,也許就是因為我們面對這同一“未知數(shù)”,龐大嚴(yán)峻的任務(wù)擺在眼前,我們有著同一恐懼。
　　
　　盡管地震的確提醒了我們,生命殊途同歸,平凡而脆弱,房子無論奢華破舊,企業(yè)無論大小強弱,均被地震殘酷摧毀,同樣慘不忍睹,但這并未模糊海地國內(nèi)人民之間的不平等。社會地位、經(jīng)濟地位的不平等,資源分配的不平等以及大部分人生活在赤貧中這些事實不會神奇地隨塵埃蒸發(fā)。但也許這場災(zāi)難將帶來一個新的開始。也許目前如此緊急的重建工作也將縮小海地人民之間的各方面差距。
　　
　　想到我從世界各地收到的所有團結(jié)的信息,我感到溫馨。像大多海地人一樣,我為大家人性關(guān)懷的表現(xiàn)而贊嘆——籌款活動,只言片語傳遞關(guān)懷,提供幫助:“只要告訴我你們需要什么就行了!”但幫助大多處在危難中的人是我們政府的職責(zé)所在。
　　
　　現(xiàn)在,我關(guān)注的是生命最基本的要素——愛和友誼。像這里的大多數(shù)人一樣,我不看新聞。我們的電力有限。而且,怎么說,做自己生命的旁觀者似乎毫無意義,甚至可笑,特別是當(dāng)電視里的報導(dǎo)只一味強調(diào)我們國家的痛苦時。我們這些海地人,大多都對關(guān)于這場地震的報導(dǎo)感到惱火。又一次,一場自然災(zāi)害被用作一次機會來展示當(dāng)?shù)氐呢毧?夸大同類大災(zāi)難下普遍會有的暴力場面。
　　
　　不,我不看新聞。我太忙了,忙著尋找一種途徑保持心中的希望,因為我們眼前的工作太龐大了;忙著欣喜地沉浸在我們屋子附近那些營地里的孩子的笑聲中;忙著笑那個路人在剛發(fā)生的余震中的滑稽反應(yīng);忙著為六個學(xué)生奇跡般地被從一棟大學(xué)樓房廢墟中救出來的消息而感動得落淚;忙著收集反映我們海地人民巨大勇氣及生命韌力的片段。
　　
　　我忙著熱愛生命,熱愛我的祖國。