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双语名著·追风筝的人 The Kite Runner(98)

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2021年08月11日

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12岁的阿富汗富家少爷阿米尔与仆人哈桑情同手足。然而,在一场风筝比赛后,发生了一件悲惨不堪的事,阿米尔为自己的懦弱感到自责和痛苦,逼走了哈桑,不久,自己也跟随父亲逃往美国。

成年后的阿米尔始终无法原谅自己当年对哈桑的背叛。为了赎罪,阿米尔再度踏上暌违二十多年的故乡,希望能为不幸的好友尽最后一点心力,却发现一个惊天谎言,儿时的噩梦再度重演,阿米尔该如何抉择?

故事如此残忍而又美丽,作者以温暖细腻的笔法勾勒人性的本质与救赎,读来令人荡气回肠。

下面就跟小编一起来欣赏双语名著·追风筝的人 The Kite Runner(98)的精彩内容吧!

Now the last of the mourners had paid their respects and the mosque was empty, save for the mullah unplugging the microphone and wrapping his Koran in green cloth. The general and I stepped out into a late-afternoon sun. We walked down the steps, past men smoking in clusters. I heard snippets of their conversations, a soccer game in Union City next weekend, a new Afghan restaurant in Santa Clara. Life moving on already, leaving Baba behind.
“How are you, bachem?” General Taheri said.I gritted my teeth. Bit back the tears that had threatened all day. “I’m going to find Soraya,” I said.
“Okay.”
I walked to the women’s side of the mosque. Soraya was standing on the steps with her mother and a couple of ladies I recognized vaguely from the wedding. I motioned to Soraya. She said something to her mother and came to me.
“Can we walk?” I said.
“Sure.” She took my hand.
We walked in silence down a winding gravel path lined by a row of low hedges. We sat on a bench and watched an elderly couple kneeling beside a grave a few rows away and placing a bouquet of daisies by the headstone. “Soraya?”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to miss him.”
She put her hand on my lap. Baba’s chila glinted on her ring finger. Behind her, I could see Baba’s mourners driving away on Mission Boulevard. Soon we’d leave too, and for the first time ever, Baba would be all alone.
Soraya pulled me to her and the tears finally came.

最后一批哀悼者已经致哀完毕,清真寺人去楼空,只有那个毛拉在收起麦克风,用一块绿布裹起《可兰经》。将军和我走进黄昏的阳光中。我们走下台阶,走过一群吸烟的男人。我零星听到他们谈话,下个周末在尤宁城有场足球赛,圣克拉拉新开了一家阿富汗餐厅。生活已然在前进,留下爸爸在后面。
“你怎么样,我的孩子? ”塔赫里将军说。我咬紧牙齿,将忍了一整天的泪水咽下。“我去找索拉雅。”我说。
“好的。”
我走进清真寺的女人区。索拉雅和她妈妈站在台阶上,还有几个我似乎在婚礼上见过的女士。我朝索拉雅招招手。她跟母亲说了几句话,向我走来。
“可以陪我走走吗?”
“当然。”她拉起我的手。我们沿着一条蜿蜒的碎石路,默默前行,旁边有一排低矮的篱笆。
我们坐在长凳上,看见不远处有对年老夫妇,跪在墓前,将一束雏菊放在墓碑上。“索拉雅?”
“怎么了?”
“我开始想他了。”
她把手放在我的膝盖上。爸爸的戒指在她手上闪闪发亮。我能看到,在她身后,那些前来哀悼爸爸的人们驾车离开,驶上传教大道。很快,我们也会离开,第一次,也是永远,留下爸爸孤独一人。
索拉雅将我拉近,泪水终于掉下来。

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