現代大學英語Lesson1翻譯

The Edge--Kathleen Louise Smiley

The night before I left for Israel was spent in the same kind of conversations that had filled the previous week. "But why Israel?" my father would ask, in the same tone he used when he asked "Why China?" or "Why Russia?" or "why" any other country I had announced I wanted to visit. "There's war over there, you know," he would add. "Yes, Dad, I know. There are wars everywhere," I would answer. He would ask why I insisted on going to such dangerous places. Finally, I would hear the words I've heard all my life: "Well, you've never listened to me before. Why should I think you'd listen now?" In typical fashion, he would close his eyes, heave a long sigh and shake his head.

When these "discussions" took place, my sister, Kristy, would always try to diffuse the tension. Although she realized long ago that it would never work, she' d try just the same. "Kath, " she' d suggest, "why don' t you go to England for summer school. It's not dangerous there. " But as always, she didn't understand. None of my family has ever really

understood me. I've never fit my family' s idea of the way I should live my life. England was not exciting enough. I wanted to go somewhere and experience something different. My soul has always been restless to venture into unknown places. My mother has always said that I have "gypsy" in my blood.

My sister and I are three and a half years apart in age, but a world apart in the way we live our lives. She is conservative and quiet. I take too many risks, and the only time I'm really quiet is when I'm asleep. I've spent most of my adult life apologizing to my sister and the rest of my family for being different, for embarrassing them by something I wear, something I do or something I say.

Since my sister is so different from me—or since I' m so different from her—we aren't very close. The older we get, the busier we become, and the less we see of each other, even though we live only half a mile apart. When we do get together, I feel that she's holding her breath and waiting for me to do or say something "wrong" while I'm walking on eggshells and praying that I don't. But inevitably, I do.

Because my sister seemed the least upset with my summer plans, I humbly asked her for a ride to the airport. "No problem, " she said casually, "but don't tell Dad! " I smiled and agreed. It's not that our father is some kind of tyrant. We know that he loves us very much; that's evident from all the sacrifices he has made for us. I would not have gone to law school if it weren't for him. He's just worried and has a hard time separating his worry from his love.

On the way to the airport the next day, my sister was quiet as usual. But for the first time since I'd decided to go, she started asking questions about my trip: where I was planning to travel, where I was going to stay. She seemed truly interested.

My family is not big on emotional goodbyes, so with a "have a good time" and a quick "love you too, " my sister was gone. I was sad because I felt she just couldn't understand. I wished at that moment that she could come with me, but I knew she wouldn't.

I checked in, took my seat and started to get organized. I glanced inside my bag which my sister had loaded in the trunk before we left for the airport. There, along with my passport, traveler's checks and other important items, was a small white envelope with "Kath" written on it in my sister's handwriting. I opened the envelope and found a bon voyage card. It was a lighthearted, funny card with a cartoon on the front. Most cards my family members give are funny cards, and this was no different—or so I thought.

When I opened the card and read what was inside, I realized that my sister—who I had decided just couldn't understand—actually did understand. It seemed there was a small part of her that wished she were me, maybe a small part of her that always had wished she were me. The card was blank except for what my sister had written:

I really admire you for experiencing life in such a full way.

I love you.

Your sister,

Kristy

鋒芒---凱瑟琳.路易絲 史密裏

在我去以色列的前一天晚上，我與父親進行了一場對話，同樣的對話貫穿了整個上週。

“但是，為什麼去以色列呢？”我父親問。這種口吻，就像問“問什麼去中國？”、“為什麼去俄羅斯”或“為什麼”去其他任何我宣佈要去的國家時一樣。

“你知道的，那裏有戰爭。”他補充説。

“是的，爸爸，我知道。但是到處都有戰爭。”我回答説。

他會問我為什麼堅持去這麼危險的地方。

最後，我會聽到我一輩子都能聽到的話：

“好吧，你從來都沒聽過我的話，我怎麼能相信你這次會聽呢？”像往常那樣，他閉上眼，長歎一口氣，搖了搖頭。

每次遇到這種“談話”，我的妹妹克里斯蒂總想試圖緩和這種緊張氣氛。然而，很早以前她就意識到這根本沒用。她總是這樣建議道：“凱思，為什麼不去英格蘭上暑期班呢？那裏沒有危險。”但是像往常那樣，她是不理解的。我的家人中沒有人真正理解我。我從來沒有按照我家人想的那樣生活，英格蘭不是很精彩，我想去一些地方體驗不同的東西，我的內心總是不安分，渴望去未知的地方冒險。我的母親總説我的血管裏流淌着吉普賽人的血。

妹妹和我相差三歲半，但是生活方式的不同將我們隔離開來。她保守、安靜，而我總是在冒險，我唯一真正安靜的時候就是睡覺時。我成年後的大多數時間，總是在向妹妹和其他家人道歉，為我的另類，為我的穿着讓他們尷尬，有時候是因為做事不當，有時候是因為説錯話。

因為妹妹和我不一樣---或者説因為我跟她不一樣---我們並不是很親密。年齡越大，人就越忙，我們見面的機會也越少，儘管我們的住處只有半里遠。每次我們在一起時，我總能感到她屏住呼吸，等着我做錯事或説錯話，這時候我總是如履薄冰，祈禱自己沒錯。但是不可避免的`是，我總是錯了。

因為看起來，妹妹最不擔心我的暑期計劃，我謙恭地請她開車送我去機場。“沒問題，”她輕描淡寫地説，“但是別告訴爸爸！”我微笑地答應了她。並不是因為父親有些專政，我知道他很愛我們，從他為我們所做的犧牲就可以看得出來。如果不是因為他，我是不會去法學院學習的。他只是擔心，並且難以將擔心和愛區分開來。

第二天去機場的路上，妹妹很安靜，像往常那樣。在我決定離開後，這是她第一次問我有關旅行的問題：準備去哪旅行？住在哪？她看起來很感興趣。

我的家人不太擅長煽情式的離別，説了“玩的開心”及很快的一句“我也愛你”後，妹妹就回去了。我感到傷心，因為我感到她並不理解我。我希望那時她能和我一起去，但我知道，她不會的。

辦理登機手續，找到座位，開始整理東西。我匆匆看了我的袋子的裏面，出發去機場前，妹妹把它放入了旅行箱。那裏，和我的護照、旅行支票和其他重要物品在一起的，是一封小小的白色信封，上面寫着“凱思”，是我妹妹的筆跡。我打開信封，是一張送行卡。這是一張讓人心情愉快、有趣的卡片，前面是一幅卡通畫。我家人送出的卡片都是趣味性的，這個也沒什麼不同--或者我是這麼想的。

當我打開這張卡片，讀裏面的文字，我才意識到我的妹妹--我剛剛認定並不理解我的人--事實上是理解的。看起來她身上的一小部分希望她就是我，或者她身上的一小部分一直都希望她就是我。這張卡片上什麼都沒有，除了我妹妹寫的這句話：

我真的很羨慕你，可以以這樣圓滿的方式體驗生活！

我愛你

你的妹妹

克里斯蒂

1. tone n. 音調,語氣,品質 v. 調和,以特殊腔調説,配合

例句：

Her friendly opening speech set the tone for the whole conference.

她友好的開幕詞確定了整個會議的基調。

use vt. 散佈; 傳播；擴散

例句：

Schools and libraries and many television programs diffuse knowledge.

學校、圖書館和很多電視節目都傳播知識。

y n. 吉布賽人,吉布賽語,像吉布賽的人

例句：

She has pure gypsy blood in her veins.

她血管裏流的是純吉普賽人的血液。

ervative adj. 保守的 n. 保守的人

例句：

His views lack consistency: one day he's a conservative, the next he's a liberal.

他的觀點缺乏一貫性: 時而保守, 時而開明.

eggshells 小心翼翼，如履薄冰

voyage card 送別卡