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(diǎn)心力,卻發(fā)現(xiàn)一個(gè)驚天謊言,兒時(shí)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(xì)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(149)的精彩內(nèi)容吧!
“You barely looked at the picture, my friend,” Farid said. “Why not take a closer look?”
“Lotfan,” I added. Please.The man behind the door took the picture. Studied it. Handed it back to me. “Nay, sorry. I know just about every single child in this institution and that one doesn’t look familiar. Now, if you’ll permit me, I have work to do.” He closed the door. Locked the bolt.
I rapped on the door with my knuckles. “Agha! Agha, please open the door. We don’t mean him any harm.”
“I told you. He’s not here,” his voice came from the other side. “Now, please go away.”Farid stepped up to the door, rested his forehead on it. “Friend, we are not with the Taliban,” he said in a low, cautious voice. “The man who is with me wants to take this boy to a safe place.”
“I come from Peshawar,” I said. “A good friend of mine knows an American couple there who run a charity home for children.” I felt the man’s presence on the other side of the door. Sensed him standing there, listening, hesitating, caught between suspicion and hope. “Look, I knew Sohrab’s father,” I said. “His name was Hassan. His mother’s name was Farzana. He called his grand mother Sasa. He knows how to read and write. And he’s good with the slingshot. There’s hope for this boy, Agha, a way out. Please open the door.”
From the other side, only silence.
“I’m his half uncle,” I said.A moment passed. Then a key rattled in the lock. The man’snarrow face reappeared in the crack. He looked from me to Farid and back. “You were wrong about one thing.”
“What?”
“你還沒仔細(xì)看看那張照片呢,老弟,”法里德說,“為什么不好好看看呢?”
“麻煩你?!蔽已a(bǔ)上一句。門后的男人接過相片,端詳著,把它還給我?!安?,對不起。我只認(rèn)得這所機(jī)構(gòu)里面的每一個(gè)孩子,但這個(gè)看起來很面生。現(xiàn)在,如果你們沒別的事情,我得去工作了?!彼P(guān)上門,上栓。
我用指節(jié)敲門:“老爺,老爺,麻煩你開門。我們對他沒有惡意?!?br />“我跟你說過,他不在這里?!遍T那邊傳來他的聲音,“現(xiàn)在,請你們走開?!狈ɡ锏律锨皫撞?,把前額貼在門上?!袄系?,我們沒帶塔利班的人來。”他小心翼翼,低聲說,“這個(gè)男人是想把那孩子帶到安全的地方?!?br />“我從白沙瓦來。”我說,“我有個(gè)好朋友認(rèn)識一對美國夫婦,在那兒開設(shè)恤孤院。 ”我感到那人就在門后。知道他站在那兒,傾聽著,猶豫不決,在希望和懷疑之間來回掙扎?!澳憧?,我認(rèn)識索拉博的父親,”我說,“名字叫哈桑。他媽媽的名字叫法莎娜。他管他奶奶叫莎莎。他能讀書寫字,彈弓打得很好。那兒有孩子的希望,老爺,一條生路。麻煩你開門?!?br />門后只有沉默。
“我是他伯伯?!蔽艺f。隔了一會(huì)兒,傳來開鎖的聲音,門縫又露出那張窄窄的臉。他看看我和法里德,對我說:“有件事你說錯(cuò)了?!?br />“哪件?”