I even liked the way he told me off.
One day while moving my notebook on the table, I accidentally tipped over my glass. It fell on the grass. It didn’t break. Oliver, who was close by, got up, picked it up, and placed it, not just on the table, but right next to my pages.
I didn’t know where to find the words to thank him.
“You didn’t have to,” I finally said.
He let just enough time go by for me to register that his answer might not be casual or carefree.
“I wanted to.”
He wanted to, I thought.
I wanted to, I imagined him repeating—kind, complaisant, effusive, as he was when the mood would suddenly strike him.
 
我甚至喜歡他訓(xùn)斥我的樣子。
有一天我挪動(dòng)桌上的筆記本時(shí)不小心打翻了玻璃杯，掉在草地上，沒破。在一旁的奧利弗起身拾起玻璃杯，把杯子好好放在桌上，而且就放在我的稿子旁邊。
我不知道該說什么來感謝他。
最后說了句：“你不必這么做的。”
他停了一會(huì)兒，足夠我意識(shí)到他的回答可能不是偶然或隨便的。
“我想做。”
他想做，我想。
“我想做”，我想象他重復(fù)著這句話——溫和、懇切、熱情，就像他突然感染了那種情緒而表現(xiàn)出來。
 
To me those hours spent at that round wooden table in our garden with the large umbrella imperfectly shading my papers, the chinking of our iced lemonades, the sound of the not-too-distant surf gently lapping the giant rocks below, and in the background, from some neighboring house, the muffled crackle of the hit parade medley on perpetual replay—all these are forever impressed on those mornings when all I prayed for was for time to stop. Let summer never end, let him never go away, let the music on perpetual replay play forever, I’m asking for very little, and I swear I’ll ask for nothing more.
 
在我們家花園里那張圓木桌旁度過的時(shí)光，永遠(yuǎn)烙印在那些讓我一心只求時(shí)間能夠暫停的早晨里。圓桌上那把遮陰不夠大的大陽傘，讓陽光灑落在文稿上；冰塊在檸檬汁里融化，響起咔噠聲；不遠(yuǎn)處，浪花輕輕拍打下方大礁石的聲音；附近人家傳來的聲響，流行金曲合輯不斷重復(fù)播放時(shí)發(fā)出的悶悶噼啪聲……希望夏天永不結(jié)束，讓他永不離去，讓無盡重復(fù)的音樂永遠(yuǎn)播放。我的要求很少，我發(fā)誓我將別無所求。

《請(qǐng)以你的名字呼喚我》