雙語名著·追風箏的人 The Kite Runner(39)

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·追風箏的人 The Kite Runner(39)的精彩內(nèi)容吧！

IT SNOWED HEAVILY the night before the tournament. Hassan and I sat under the kursi and played panjpar as wind-rattled tree branches tapped on the window. Earlier that day, I'd asked Ali to set up the kursi for us--which was basically an electric heater under a low table covered with a thick, quilted blanket. Around the table, he arranged mattresses and cushions, so as many as twenty people could sit and slip their legs under. Hassan and I used to spend entire snowy days snug under the kursi, playing chess, cards--mostly panjpar.
巡回賽前夜大雪紛飛。哈桑和我坐在暖爐桌前玩一種叫做"番吉帕"的撲克游戲，寒風吹著樹枝，打在窗戶上嗒嗒作響。當天早些時候，我要阿里替我們布置暖爐桌--在一張低矮的桌子下面，擺放電暖片，然后蓋上厚厚的棉毯。他在桌旁鋪滿地毯和坐墊，足夠供二十個人坐下，把腿伸進桌子下面。每逢下雪，哈桑和我經(jīng)常整天坐在暖爐桌邊，下棋或者打牌，主要是玩"番吉帕"。

I killed Hassan's ten of diamonds, played him two jacks and a six. Next door, in Baba's study, Baba and Rahim Khan were discussing Business with a couple of other men-one of them I recognized as Assef's father. Through the wall, I could hear the scratchy sound of Radio Kabul News.
我殺了哈桑兩張方塊10，打給他兩條J和一張6。隔壁是爸爸的書房，他和拉辛汗在跟幾個人談生意。其中有個我認得是阿塞夫的父親。隔著墻，我能聽到喀布爾新聞廣播電臺沙沙的聲音。

Hassan killed the six and picked up the jacks. On the radio, Daoud Khan was announcing something about foreign investments.
哈桑殺了6，要了兩條J。達烏德汗在收音機中宣布有關外國投資的消息。

"He says someday we'll have television in Kabul," I said.
"他說有一天喀布爾也會擁有電視。"我說。

"Who?"
"誰?"

"Daoud Khan, you ass, the president."
"達烏德汗，你這個家伙，我們的總統(tǒng)。"

Hassan giggled. "I heard they already have it in Iran," he said.
哈?？┛┬ζ饋?，"我聽說伊朗已經(jīng)有了。"他說。

I sighed. "Those Iranians..." For a lot of Hazaras, Iran represented a sanctuary of sorts--I guess because, like Hazaras, most Iranians were Shi'a Muslims. But I remembered something my teacher had said that summer about Iranians, that they were grinning smooth talkers who patted you on the back with one hand and picked your pocket with the other. I told Baba about that and he said my teacher was one of those jealous Afghans, jealous because Iran was a rising power in Asia and most people around the world couldn't even find Afghanistan on a world map. "It hurts to say that," he said, shrugging. "But better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie."
我嘆了一口氣:"那些伊朗人……"對多數(shù)哈扎拉人來說，伊朗是個避難所，我猜想也許是因為多數(shù)伊朗人跟哈扎拉人一樣，都是什葉派穆斯林。但我記得夏天的時候有個老師說起伊朗人，說他們都是笑面虎，一邊用手拍拍你的后背示好，另一只手卻會去掏你的口袋。我將這個告訴爸爸，爸爸說我的老師不過是個嫉妒的阿富汗人，他嫉妒，因為伊朗在亞洲聲望日隆，而世界上多數(shù)人看世界地圖的時候還找不到阿富汗在哪里。"這樣說很傷感情，"他說，聳著肩，"但被真相傷害總比被謊言安慰好。"

"I'll buy you one someday," I said.
"有一天我會給你買的。"我說。

Hassan's face brightened. "A television? In truth?"
哈桑笑逐顏開:"電視機?真的嗎?"

"Sure. And not the black-and-white kind either. We'll probably be grown-ups by then, but I'll get us two. One for you and one for me."
"當然，還不是黑白的那種。到時我們也許都是大人了，不過我會給我們買兩個。一個給你，一個給我。"

"I'll put it on my table, where I keep my drawings," Hassan said.
"我要把它放在我畫畫的桌子上。"哈桑說。