现代大学英语Lesson1翻译

栏目: 校园 / 发布于: / 人气:2.44W

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

锋芒---凯瑟琳.路易丝史密里

在我去以色列的前一天晚上，我与父亲进行了一场对话，同样的对话贯穿了整个上周。

“但是，为什么去以色列呢？”我父亲问。这种口吻，就像问“问什么去中国？”、“为什么去俄罗斯”或“为什么”去其他任何我宣布要去的国家时一样。

“你知道的，那里有战争。”他补充说。

“是的，爸爸，我知道。但是到处都有战争。”我回答说。

他会问我为什么坚持去这么危险的地方。

最后，我会听到我一辈子都能听到的话：

“好吧，你从来都没听过我的话，我怎么能相信你这次会听呢？”像往常那样，他闭上眼，长叹一口气，摇了摇头。

每次遇到这种“谈话”，我的妹妹克里斯蒂总想试图缓和这种紧张气氛。然而，很早以前她就意识到这根本没用。她总是这样建议道：“凯思，为什么不去英格兰上暑期班呢？那里没有危险。”但是像往常那样，她是不理解的。我的家人中没有人真正理解我。我从来没有按照我家人想的那样生活，英格兰不是很精彩，我想去一些地方体验不同的东西，我的内心总是不安分，渴望去未知的地方冒险。我的母亲总说我的血管里流淌着吉普赛人的血。

妹妹和我相差三岁半，但是生活方式的不同将我们隔离开来。她保守、安静，而我总是在冒险，我唯一真正安静的时候就是睡觉时。我成年后的大多数时间，总是在向妹妹和其他家人道歉，为我的另类，为我的穿着让他们尴尬，有时候是因为做事不当，有时候是因为说错话。

因为妹妹和我不一样---或者说因为我跟她不一样---我们并不是很亲密。年龄越大，人就越忙，我们见面的机会也越少，尽管我们的住处只有半里远。每次我们在一起时，我总能感到她屏住呼吸，等着我做错事或说错话，这时候我总是如履薄冰，祈祷自己没错。但是不可避免的`是，我总是错了。

因为看起来，妹妹最不担心我的暑期计划，我谦恭地请她开车送我去机场。“没问题，”她轻描淡写地说，“但是别告诉爸爸！”我微笑地答应了她。并不是因为父亲有些专政，我知道他很爱我们，从他为我们所做的牺牲就可以看得出来。如果不是因为他，我是不会去法学院学习的。他只是担心，并且难以将担心和爱区分开来。

第二天去机场的路上，妹妹很安静，像往常那样。在我决定离开后，这是她第一次问我有关旅行的问题：准备去哪旅行？住在哪？她看起来很感兴趣。

我的家人不太擅长煽情式的离别，说了“玩的开心”及很快的一句“我也爱你”后，妹妹就回去了。我感到伤心，因为我感到她并不理解我。我希望那时她能和我一起去，但我知道，她不会的。

办理登机手续，找到座位，开始整理东西。我匆匆看了我的袋子的里面，出发去机场前，妹妹把它放入了旅行箱。那里，和我的护照、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，上面写着“凯思”，是我妹妹的笔迹。我打开信封，是一张送行卡。这是一张让人心情愉快、有趣的卡片，前面是一幅卡通画。我家人送出的卡片都是趣味性的，这个也没什么不同--或者我是这么想的。

当我打开这张卡片，读里面的文字，我才意识到我的妹妹--我刚刚认定并不理解我的人--事实上是理解的。看起来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。这张卡片上什么都没有，除了我妹妹写的这句话：

我真的很羡慕你，可以以这样圆满的方式体验生活！

我爱你

你的妹妹

克里斯蒂

1. tone n. 音调,语气,品质 v. 调和,以特殊腔调说,配合

例句：

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

她友好的开幕词确定了整个会议的基调。

use vt. 散布; 传播；扩散

例句：

Schools and libraries and many television programs diffuse knowledge.