推荐故事

热门圈子

摄影大师达人圈服务分享社区圈子家装建材交友圈服务分享社区圈子建德社区圈子服务分享社区圈子萧山社区圈子服务分享社区圈子临安社区圈子服务分享社区圈子爱车族社区服务分享社区圈子西湖社区圈子服务分享社区圈子战列舰圈服务分享社区圈子灵犀足球社区服务分享社区圈子

人气故事

Supposesomeonegaveyouapen

1477

发布:2021-09-29 00:28:57  来自 熟悉看不清 觅知友会员

The Power of Beauty

    Why do we care so much about how we look? Because it matters.
Because beauty is powerful.
Because even when we learn to value people mostly for being kind and wise and funny, we are still moved by beauty.
No matter how much we argue against it or pretend to be 1)immune, beauty 2)exerts its power over us.
There is simply no escape.  

爱要怎么说出口   If only we’d never gone there, thought Alan.
They were scrambling up the mountainside in the late afternoon heat.
Alice was so tanned that she looked as if she had lived on the Mediterranean for months, while he, being fair, had turned a blotchy, peeling.
阿兰心里想道:要是我们从未到过那个地方该多好啊。在下午后半晌的炎热中,他们向山坡上爬去。爱丽丝被晒得黑黝黝的,看上去就像在地中海上住过几个月似的;而阿兰原本细皮嫩肉,这时身上已经变得红一块白一块,脱了一层皮。
He looked up at the mountainside, the path twisting upwards towards the cairn cross, the white heat bleaching the rock.
Why on earth couldn’t they talk about it? Why couldn’t he even accuse her?
他抬头向山坡望去,只见小路盘旋而上通向那个圆锥形十字石碑,炽热的阳光将岩石晒得发白。他们究竟为什么不能谈那件事?他为什么连责骂她都不能呢?
He had thought it was going to be all right.
But it was as if the heat had drained their love.
他原以为一切都会好的,但好像酷热已经将他们的爱抽干。
At home they had been so blissfully happy that he now realized it couldn’t have lasted.
She comes to his school from the Midlands because her family had split up.
An only child, living with her father, trying to look after him, lonely, depressed, anxious, she had come to Alan to be healed.
At least, that’s what he liked to think.
Had he healed her? No.
Tom had, even though Alan loved her with all the passion.
Now his hatred for both of them was as strong as his love.
在家时,他们曾是多么幸福。现在他意识到那不会再继续下去了。由于家庭破裂,她从内陆来到他的学校。作为独生女,她和她的父亲住在一起,尽力去照顾他。她孤独无依、无精打采、愁眉苦脸,经常到阿兰那里去排除忧伤。至少他喜欢这样认为。他为她解忧了吗?没有。是汤姆,即使阿兰曾付出所有的激情爱着她。如今他对他们俩的爱就像他的恨一样强烈。
“Come on!”Alice had turned back to him, waving impatiently.
“跟上!”爱丽丝转身向他喊,不耐烦地挥着手。
“Coming,”Alan looked at his watch.
Five, The crickets would start singing soon.
He walked on, the sweat pouring into his eyes.
Knowing she had opened the bottle of mineral water.
Would she let him catch up with her? An even greater misery seized him.
It reminded him of the night he made himself drunk on the rough local wine his parents bought in the village.
His heart had ached then, too, and his sense of loss had increased as he relived each minute of a day when Tom and Alice had seemed to draw closer and closer together.
“来了。”阿兰看了看手表。已经5点了。蛐蛐儿马上就要开始鸣唱了。他继续向上走,汗水源源不断地流到了眼里。他知道她已经打开那瓶矿泉水。她会让他跟上她吗?一种更大的痛苦折磨着他。这使他想起那天晚上他用父母亲从村里买的粗制的当地酒将自己灌醉的情景,那时他的心也在发痛。每当他想起爱丽丝和汤姆越来越亲近的时候,他的失落感就会与日俱增。
He walked faster.
Here, a few miles away on the bare mountainside, there was arid space, and the olive groves, clustered in the stone-cluttered valleys below.
他走得越来越快。他为山顶上那些中世纪的城堡而欢呼雀跃。放眼望去,离那座山几里远的地方有一块空地,在山谷的乱石丛中生长着一小片橄榄林。
“Come on!”
“跟上!”
“Coming.”
“来了。”
Alan strode doggedly on, looking down at his red, peeling legs, thinking of Tom’s strong, straight, brown ones.
阿兰仍顽强地大步前行,他低头看了一眼自己被晒红的、脱了皮的两腿,想起了汤姆强健挺拔的棕色的双腿。
Suddenly he had turned the corner by the stone shelter.
He could see her waiting for him.
If Tom were here, they would be together, mocking him, looking at each other, leaving him alone.
As he strode self-consciously on Alan focused his mind on her.
突然,他拐到石头后面一块隐蔽的地方。他看到她正在等他。如果汤姆也在这里的话,他们一定会站在一起嘲笑他,相互凝望着,把他丢在一边。当他拘谨地向前走的时候,他将注意力都集中在她的身上。
“Where’re we going to camp?”She was sitting on an outcrop, her slim body supple and salt-caked.
Her legs were swinging and he longed to run his hands over them.
Instead he imagined Tom doing that and hot, angry tears filled his eyes.
“我们到哪里去宿营?”她坐在一块突出的岩石上。她的苗条的身材丰满,咸咸的。她的腿在那里晃来晃去。他真想将自己的手在那上面滑动。而他却想象着汤姆那样做的情景。顿时,愤怒的泪水充满了他的眼睛。
“Santa Caterina.”
“圣卡塔林纳。”
“What’s that?”
“那是什么?”
“It’s a deserted monastery, down in the valley.
Amongst the fir trees.
Over there—look, you can see it.”
“是一座破庙,在山谷下面,杉树丛中。在那里——看,你可以看到的。”
“Oh yes.”She turned her head.
When he did look he was shocked to see how beautiful she was, like a goddess.
“噢,是的。”她转过头。当他真正拿眼去看她的时候,她看上去是那样美,像一尊女神。
“Won’t that be spooky?”she asked in the slightly broken voice that he had always found so sexy.
“那不可怕吧?”她用略微沙哑的声音说。他发现她的嗓音竟是那样性感。
God, how he loved her.
Why couldn’t he just take her in his arms now? That could solve everything.
But there seemed to be an impenetrable barrier around her—as if she was sealed away by Tom.
上帝啊,他是多么爱她,现在他为什么不可以把她揽在怀里呢?这样,一切问题都会迎刃而解的。但是,好像她周围有一种难以逾越的障碍——就像被汤姆密封了起来。
“The valley’s dangerous,”said Alan, hoping to frighten her, to provoke reaction.“If the clouds come down there’s no way out.
Sometimes for days.”
“这个山谷很危险,”阿兰说,希望吓住她,引起她一种反应。“如果乌云压下来就会无路可走了。有时会持续好几天。”
“Is there anywhere else to camp,”asked Alice.
“还有其它地方可以宿营吗?”爱丽丝问道。
“Not really.”Alan was certain she’d rather be with Tom.
Yesterday he had seen them sitting on a wall together outside the villa.
Their ankles had been entwined.
He had wanted to grab Tom’s legs and pull him off.
He would hurt his brother—and Alice would be sorry .
It would be her fault.
“说不准,”阿兰敢肯定她一定会宁愿和汤姆在一起。昨天他曾见他们一起坐在别墅外的一堵墙上,他们的脚踝曾缠绕在一起,他曾想拽着汤姆的腿把他拉下来。他会伤害自己的弟弟。爱丽斯会感到内疚。那是她的过错。
“Let’s go,”said Alan quickly.
“我们走吧,”阿兰飞快地说。
“How far is it?”she asked.“I’m whacked.”
“还有多远?”她问,“我一点劲儿也没有了。”
“Half an hour.”
“半小时。”
She Left Her Shoes   She left her shoes, she took everything else, her toothbrush, her clothes, and even that stupid little silver vase on the table we kept candy in.
Just dumped it out on the table and took the vase.
The tiny apartment we shared seemed different now, her stuff was gone, it wasn't much really, although now the room seemed like a jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces missing, incomplete.
The closet seemed empty too; most of it was her stuff anyway.
But there they were at the bottom, piled up like they usually were, every single one of them.
Why did she leave her shoes? She couldn't have forgotten them, I knew too well that she took great pride in her shoe collection, but there they still were, right down to her favorite pair of sandals.
They were black with a design etched into the wide band that stretched across the top of them, the soles scuffed and worn; a delicate imprint of where her toes rested was visible in the soft fabric.
It seemed funny to me, she walked out of my life without her shoes, is that irony, or am I thinking of something else? In a way I was glad they were still here, she would have to come back for them, right? I mean how could she go on with the rest of her life without her shoes? But she's not coming back, I know she isn't, she would rather walk barefoot over glass than have to see me again.
But Christ she left all of her shoes! All of them, every sneaker, boot and sandal, every high heel and clog, every flip-flop.
What do I do? Do I leave them here, or bag them up and throw them in the trash? Do I look at them every morning when I get dressed and wonder why she left them? She knew it, she knows what's she's doing.
I can't throw them out for fear she may return for them someday.
I can't be rid of myself of her completely with all her shoes still in my life, can't dispose of them or the person that walked in them.
Her shoes, leaving a deep footprint on my heart, I can't sweep it away.
All I can do is stare at them and wonder, stare at their laces and straps their buttons and tread.
They still connect me to her though, in some distant bizarre way they do.
I can remember the good times we had, what pair she was wearing at that moment in time.
They are hers and no else's, she wore down the heels, and she scuffed their sides, it's her fragile footprint imbedded on the insole.
I sit on the floor next to them and wonder how many places had she gone while wearing these shoes, how many miles she walked in them, what pair was she wearing when she decided to leave me? I pick up a high heel she often wore and absently smell it, it's not disgusting I think, it's just the last tangible link I have to her.
The last bit of reality I have of her.
She left her shoes; she took everything else, except her shoes.
They remain at the bottom of my closet, a shrine to her memory.
爱在无语时   In the doorway of my home, I looked closely at the face of my 23-year-old son, Daniel, his backpack by his side.
We were saying good-bye.
In a few hours he would be flying to France.
He would be staying there for at least a year to learn another language and experience life in a different country.
It was a transitional time in Daniel‘s life, a passage, a step from college into the adult world.
I wanted to leave him some words that would have some meaning, some significance beyond the moment.
But nothing came from my lips.
No sound broke the stillness of my beachside home.
Outside, I could hear the shrill cries of sea gulls as they circled the ever changing surf on Long Island.
Inside, I stood frozen and quiet, looking into the searching eyes of my son.
What made it more difficult was that I knew this was not the first time I had let such a moment pass.
When Daniel was five, I took him to the school-bus stop on his first day of kindergarten.
I felt the tension in his hand holding mine as the bus turned the corner.
I saw colour flush his cheeks as the bus pulled up.
He looked at me-as he did now.
What is it going to be like, Dad? Can I do it? Will I be okay? And then he walked up the steps of the bus and disappeared inside.
And the bus drove away.
And I had said nothing.
A decade or so later, a similar scene played itself out.
With his mother, I drove him to William and Mary College in Virginia.
His first night, he went out with his new schoolmates, and when he met us the next morning, he was sick.
He was coming down with mononucleosis, but we could not know that then.
We thought he had a hangover.
In his room, Dan lay stretched out on his bed as I started to leave for the trip home.
I tried to think of something to say to give him courage and confidence as he started this new phase of life.
Again, words failed me.
I mumbled something like, "Hope you feel better Dan."
And I left.
Now, as I stood before him, I thought of those lost opportunities.
How many times have we all let such moments pass? A boy graduates from school, a daughter gets married.
We go through the motions of the ceremony, but we don‘t seek out our children and find a quiet moment to tell them what they have meant to us.
Or what they might expect to face in the years ahead.
How fast the years had passed.
Daniel was born in New Orleans, LA., in 1962, slow to walk and talk, and small of stature.
He was the tiniest in his class, but he developed a warm, outgoing nature and was popular with his peers.
He was coordinated and 6)agile, and he became adept in sports.
Baseball gave him his earliest challenge.
He was an outstanding pitcher in Little League, and eventually, as a senior in high school, made the varsity, winning half the team‘s games with a record of five wins and two losses.
At graduation, the coach named Daniel the team‘s most valuable player.
His finest hour, though, came at a school science fair.
He entered an exhibit showing how the circulatory system works.
It was primitive and crude, especially compared to the fancy, computerized, blinking-light models entered by other students.
My wife, Sara, felt embarrassed for him.
It turned out that the other kids had not done their own work-their parents had made their exhibits.
As the judges went on their rounds, they found that these other kids couldn‘t answer their questions.
Daniel answered every one.
When the judges awarded the Albert Einstein Plaque for the best exhibit, they gave it to him.

话题评论:

未登录服务分享会员
未登录

相关推荐:

  • 注定无法与你相爱
    午夜十二点,我打开了CD,听着这些日子陪我度过无数流着泪的夜晚的“太委屈”。泪水止不住的留下来。结束了……我决定就在今晚,结束一切……“程,这是你的邮包,你签收一下。”“好的。”一部手机,这是她送给他的,她决定把自己寄托在这里面,能陪他,到永远……紫色的卡
  • 换个角度看世界
    是人人的。幸福的定义也许是同样的,但追求的却大不相同,幸福的内涵也各不相同,幸福的感受更是各人不同。瞎子能看到世界,会觉得幸福;朝不保晚的穷汉,能吃一顿饭,那是幸福;两地分居的夫妻,能够团聚,也是幸福……幸福只是一种,一种感受,没有绝对的标准,更没
  • 夜梦感怀
    夜梦感怀——给英子昨夜忽梦年少事,醒来幽恨犹觉长。不知故人今何恙,梦中可有旧时光?()2019-1-26
  • 红豆生南国
    红豆你新生几枝?南国才会有春思的滋味,红豆你别笑红尘,多少人间烟火却在烟雨里,于是赫颜面容强对杯中酒空,一声长叹便是风流无数。()原是你道得寂寞楼空人已散,原是你说得落红败给薄幸郎,有情人最怕终不悔,
  • 相见喜悦别时泪
    文/和平在与同学们阔别数十年后,成功的举行了《经纬二十六班“相约”主题班会》,并得到了极大的成功。相逢的那一刻,充满了喜悦,但更让人难以忘怀的,却是分别的那一刻……已知离别近,欲别同学难。从与您分别那一日起,剩余的人生,便会一直期待彼此的回声。无论岁月如
  • 两只小老鼠的爱情
    天气越来越冷了,早过了收割的季节,往日麦地里遍地的粮食早已不见,早先秋日里存储在地洞里的一点过冬的粮食也被农民的无意间的一锄头彻底毁灭。这日子该如何再过下去啊……我忧愁的看着熟睡中肚子日渐明显大起来的……是哦,我快做了,要真正尽起一个男人的了。可是,家里一
  • 白鹭之伤
    白鹭之伤骑行于水乡路上,绿树碧水,百草丰茂,鹭鸟翔集,鲜花盛开,倒也令人心旷神怡,流连忘返。不知不觉。我放慢了车速,顾盼左右这万千旖旎,心中恍如身临世外桃源,顿时有一种超然之感。这一湾浅浅的水滩,茭草稀疏,芦苇苍苍,水草飘柔,钱荷初张。蜿蜒的岸边,阡陌纵横
  • 不甘心才是你一直在努力的理由
    不甘心才是你一直在努力的理由文/川南先生毕业后的几年,很多人渐渐地和我失联,包括要好的朋友。但是我知道,他们和我一样在不同的地方做着不同的事,遇见不同的人,并在另一座没有我的城市煎熬着那份属于他们自己一个人的孤独。况且在这个世界没人会在意你每时每
  • 岁月,太匆匆
    总是太匆匆如穿过发梢轻轻溜走的风牵着手的手还没有捂热又见深秋的雨迷蒙().总是太匆匆像晨露划过叶子摔碎了的晶莹含苞的季节还没有成熟一个爱便到了飞雪飘飘的冬.总是太匆匆似撩过青春来去的一场梦浪漫的花季还
  • 找到自己的位置
    找到自己的位置文/赵元波主人家里养了一只鹦鹉和一头黄牛。每次,主人去地里干活,鹦鹉都会甜甜地向主人说一声:“再见!”;主人从地里干活归来,鹦鹉同样会对主人说一声:“你好,回来啦!”就像家里的一个家庭成员一样,有了这只鹦鹉,给主人一家增添了不少乐趣。更有趣的
  • 人为什么活着
    人们总活着,活着就会有希望,往往忽略了活着到底为了什么。芸芸众生,各有各的活法:有的人活一天算一天,抱着做一天和尚撞一天钟的想法而活着;(我称它为混)有的人看破红尘踏入佛门认为那才是自己最终的归属;(佛)有的人,认为一死百了;(死)有的人为更好的质
  • 孤城
    每个人心中都有一片净土,那是一座孤城,云雾缭绕,纷纷扬扬,里面装满了海市蜃楼,装满了镜花水月,装满了过去的遗忘。一座城门紧关的孤城就像是多年前喜欢的音乐列表中如今已然变灰的歌曲,没有版权,无法播放,包括列表中那些收藏了多年的单曲循环如今
  • 花开的时刻
    引用网络一段话:花儿们带着新奇的心情望着周围的一切。慢慢地舒展着花瓣,从一个个的花苞开成一朵朵鲜丽的花。她们彼此学习着怎样斜倚在枝头,怎么颤动着花蕊,怎样散发出各种各样的清雅的,浓郁的,幽甜的芳香,给世界更添几分优美。我觉得这段话很美,就像成长中的孩子们。
  • 春光谱——在故乡读春天
    ——在故乡读春天作者:傅玉善画家如何把春光揉进画册里,歌者如何把春光揉进乐曲里,诗人如何把春光揉进诗意里,只有专业的你能懂,可我认为这一切还不能足以给春天一个满意的表达,于是,我只好把自己揉进故乡,揉进春天里了,这也是我一直疯狂
  • 四两拨几斤
    郎咸平在一次讲座中痛批中华文化,归纳为“浮躁”“投机”,其中举例说《借东风》和《空城计》就是浮躁、投机的典型。以目前的天气预报水平,准确预计几天后的风向风力尚有难度,何况三国时期?诸葛亮即便熟知天文地理,借东风依然是一次赌博行为。至于空城计,以一人之小品表
  • 你现在不牛,但你可以变得很牛
    你现在不牛,但你可以变得很牛文/南有先生1我有个男生朋友被分手了,很难过,拉着我去喝酒。我不喝,他不乐意了,说我不够兄弟。我大声吼他,我要是也喝醉了,谁送你回去?你这样喝,万一喝出毛病,可怎么办?他喝得眼睛又红又肿,伤心地说女朋友好绝情。我说,我
  • 有的时候——总有一个幸福的理由
    有的时候,真的好想给自己放个假,去准备属于自己的一次旅行。就这样,抛开,忘记一些不该留恋的人,没有任何目的的,静静地欣赏一路的风景。有的时候,在人来人往的街道上,忽然好想大哭一场,即使全世界都嘲笑我,只有自己知道,哭过了,才不会。有的时
  • 你是我最心疼的等待(原创)
    你是我最心疼的等待---崔勇夜儿睡了,那么静,静地可以听到自己心跳的声音。我在暗暗的黑里焦急的四处找寻着,月儿去哪儿了?星儿去哪儿了?真的不理我了吗?夜,泛着暗淡的光,微弱的光轻轻触破了思念的堤,忍不住又想你了。眉目清秀的你,秀发飘飘……每次想你的时候
  • 原创诗歌:谒秋谨墓
    谒秋谨墓百年前那场雨也是这样淅淅漓漓华夏悲愤中国伤情你的目光()缓缓扫过苦难大地然后赶赴一个古老的契约你走时我的前辈在奋起你醒来我和同辈在超越一面艳红的旗帜猎猎作响有滴你的梦想鲜亮灼
  • 五年的爱情比不上一次网恋
    今天我第一次在天涯天地说自己的,也许也是最后一次,这是她介绍我来的这个地方,也是我为了她而的地方。我们是夫妻,我非常非常地爱她,有人问我我到底爱她有多深?我不知道,因为我无法回答,或者举一例子证明一下吧,或者这也根本不能说明什么,只是当时深陷情字里一些慕名