雙語名著·追風箏的人 The Kite Runner(10)

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(10)的精彩內(nèi)容吧！

When I was in fifth grade, we had a mullah who taught us about Islam. His name was Mullah Fatiullah Khan, a short, stubby man with a face full of acne scars and a gruff voice. He lectured us about the virtues of "zakat" and the duty of "hadj"; he taught us the intricacies of performing the five daily "namaz" prayers, and made us memorize verses from the Koran—and though he never translated the words for us, he did stress, sometimes with the help of a stripped willow branch, that we had to pronounce the Arabic words correctly so God would hear us better. He told us one day that Islam considered drinking a terrible sin; those who drank would answer for their sin on the day of “Qiyamat”, Judgment Day. In those days, drinking was fairly common in Kabul. No one gave you a public lashing for it, but those Afghans who did drink did so in private, out of respect. People bought their scotch as "Medicine"in brown paper bags from selected "pharmacies."They would leave with the bag tucked out of sight, sometimes drawing furtive, disapproving glances from those who knew about the store's reputation for such transactions.

We were upstairs in Baba's study, the smoking room, when I told him what Mullah Fatiullah Khan had taught us in class. Baba was pouring himself a whiskey from the bar he had built in the corner of the room. He listened, nodded, took a sip from his drink. Then he lowered himself into the leather sofa, put down his drink, and propped me up on his lap. I felt as if I were sitting on a pair of tree trunks. He took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, the air hissing through his mustache for what seemed an eternity I couldn't decide whether I wanted to hug him or leap from his lap in mortal fear.

我上五年級的時候，上伊斯蘭課的毛拉Mullah，伊斯蘭教對老師、先生、學者的敬稱。叫法修拉，個子矮小粗壯，臉上滿是青春痘的疤痕，聲音嘶啞。他教導我們，讓我們知道施天課的伊斯蘭教有五大天命：念、禮、齋、課、朝。（天課zakat，即伊斯蘭教法定的施舍，或稱"奉主命而定"的宗教賦稅，又稱“濟貧稅”。）益處，還有朝覲的責任。他還教給我們每天五次禮拜伊斯蘭教每天要進行五次禮拜，在黎明、中午、下午、日落和晚上各進行一次。的復雜儀式，要我們背誦《可蘭經(jīng)》。他從不替我們翻譯經(jīng)文，總是強調(diào)--有時還會用上一根柳樹條--我們必須準確地念出那些阿拉伯字眼，以便真主能聽得更清楚。一天，他說在伊斯蘭教義里面，喝酒是極大的罪過，那些嗜酒的家伙將會在接受超度那一天（審判日）得到懲罰。當年喀布爾飲酒的人比比皆是，沒有人會公然加以譴責。不過那些愛小酌幾杯的阿富汗人也只敢陽奉陰違，從不在公開場合喝酒。人們把烈酒稱為“藥”，到特定的"藥店"購買，用棕色紙袋包著。他們將袋子扎好，以免被看到；然而有時在路上仍不免被人偷眼斜睨，因為知道這些商店在兜售什么玩意的人可不少。

我們在樓上，爸爸的書房--那個吸煙室——里面，我告訴他法修拉毛拉在課堂上講的話。爸爸走到那個他造在屋角的吧臺，自斟了一杯威士忌。他邊聽邊點頭，不時從他的酒杯小啜一口。接著他坐在皮沙發(fā)上，把酒杯放下，把我抱在他的膝蓋上。我覺得自己好像坐在一對樹干上。他用鼻子深深吸一口氣，又呼出來，氣息嘶嘶作響，穿過他的胡子，似乎永無止境。我不知道自己是該擁抱他呢，還是該害怕得從他膝蓋上跳下來。