雙語名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(65)

12歲的阿富汗富家少爺阿米爾與仆人哈桑情同手足。然而，在一場風(fēng)箏比賽后，發(fā)生了一件悲慘不堪的事，阿米爾為自己的懦弱感到自責(zé)和痛苦，逼走了哈桑，不久，自己也跟隨父親逃往美國。

成年后的阿米爾始終無法原諒自己當(dāng)年對哈桑的背叛。為了贖罪，阿米爾再度踏上暌違二十多年的故鄉(xiāng)，希望能為不幸的好友盡最后一點心力，卻發(fā)現(xiàn)一個驚天謊言，兒時的噩夢再度重演，阿米爾該如何抉擇?

故事如此殘忍而又美麗，作者以溫暖細膩的筆法勾勒人性的本質(zhì)與救贖，讀來令人蕩氣回腸。

下面就跟小編一起來欣賞雙語名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(65)的精彩內(nèi)容吧！

Sitting in the middle of my room the next morning, I ripped open box after box of presents. I don’t know why I even bothered, since I just gave them a joyless glance and pitched them to the corner of the room. The pile was growing there: a Polaroid camera, a transistor radio, an elaborate electric train set--and several sealed envelopes containing cash. I knew I’d never spend the money or listen to the radio, and the electric train would never trundle down its tracks in my room. I didn’t want any of it--it was all blood money; Baba would have never thrown me a party like that if I hadn’t won the tournament.
Baba gave me two presents. One was sure to become the envy of every kid in the neighborhood: a brand new Schwinn Stingray, the king of all bicycles. Only a handful of kids in all of Kabul owned a new Stingray and now I was one of them. It had high-rise handlebars with black rubber grips and its famous banana seat. The spokes were gold colored and the steel-frame body red, like a candy apple. Or blood. Any other kid would have hopped on the bike immediately and taken it for a full block skid. I might have done the same a few months ago.
“You like it?” Baba said, leaning in the doorway to my room. I gave him a sheepish grin and a quick “Thank you.” I wished I could have mustered more.
“We could go for a ride,” Baba said. An invitation, but only a halfhearted one.
“Maybe later. I’m a little tired,” I said.
“Sure,” Baba said.
“Baba?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for the fireworks,” I said. A thank-you, but only a halfhearted one.
“Get some rest,” Baba said, walking toward his room.

隔日清早，我坐在房間中間，拆開一個又一個禮品盒子。我不知道自己為何如此費勁，因為我總是興味索然地看上一眼，就將禮物丟到屋角去。它們在那邊積成一堆：寶麗萊相機，變頻收音機，精巧的電動列車組合玩具——還有幾個裝著現(xiàn)金的信封。我知道自己永遠不會花那些錢，不會聽那個收音機，而那輛電動列車也不會在我房間中爬上它的軌道。我不想要這些東西——這些全都是血腥錢；而且，若非我贏得風(fēng)箏大賽，爸爸根本就不會替我舉辦那么一場宴會。
爸爸給了我兩件禮物。一輛嶄新的施溫?斯丁格雷［1］SchwinnStingray，美國著名高檔自行車品牌。［1］，自行車之王，毫無疑問會讓臨近的小孩垂涎三尺，喀布爾擁有新斯丁格雷的孩子寥寥無幾，如今我也躋身其中了。它的手把高高升起，握柄由黑色橡膠制成，還有個蜚聲久遠的香蕉型車座，輪輻是金色的，鋼做的車身是紅色的，赭紅色，像鮮血那樣。換成別的孩子，恐怕會立即跳上去，騎著它招搖過市。幾個月前的我也許會這么做。
“你喜歡嗎?”爸爸斜倚在我房間門口問。我露出溫順的笑容，匆匆說了聲“謝謝”。我多希望我能多說幾句話。
“我們可以去騎騎?！卑职终f。他在邀請我，不過并非真心實意。
“再說吧，我有點累了?！?br />“好的?！卑职终f。
“爸爸?”
“怎么?”
“謝謝你的煙花?！蔽艺f。我在感謝他，不過并非真心實意。
“好好休息吧?！卑职终f，朝他房間走去。