雙語名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(190)

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(190)的精彩內(nèi)容吧！

I THOUGHT WE’D END UP DRIVING around the city until night fell. I saw myself calling the police, describing Sohrab to them under Fayyaz’s reproachful glare. I heard the officer, his voice tired and uninterested, asking his obligatory questions. And beneath the official questions, an unofficial one: Who the hell cared about another dead Afghan kid?
But we found him about a hundred yards from the mosque, sitting in the half-full parking lot, on an island of grass. Fayyaz pulled up to the island and let me out. “I have to get back,” he said.
“That’s fine. We’ll walk back,” I said. “Thank you, Mr. Fayyaz. Really.”He leaned across the front seat when I got out. “Can I say something to you?”
“Sure.”
In the dark of twilight, his face was just a pair of eyeglasses reflecting the fading light. “The thing about you Afghanis is that... well, you people are a little reckless.”
I was tired and in pain. My jaws throbbed. And those damn wounds on my chest and stomach felt like barbed wire under my skin. But I started to laugh anyway.
“What... what did I...” Fayyaz was saying, but I was cackling by then, full-throated bursts of laughter spilling through my wired mouth.
“Crazy people,” he said. His tires screeched when he peeled away, his tail-lights blinking red in the dimming light.“You GAVE ME A GOOD SCARE,” I said. I sat beside him, wincing with pain as I bent.He was looking at the mosque. Shah Faisal Mosque was shaped like a giant tent. Cars came and went; worshipers dressed in white streamed in and out. We sat in silence, me leaning against the tree, Sohrab next to me, knees to his chest. We listened to the call to prayer, watched the building’s hundreds of lights come on as daylight faded. The mosque sparkled like a diamond in the dark. It lit up the sky, Sohrab’s face. “Have you ever been to Mazar-i-Sharif?” Sohrab said, his chin resting on his kneecaps.
“A long time ago. I don’t remember it much.”
“Father took me there when I was little. Mother and Sasa came along too. Father bought me a monkey from the bazaar. Not a real one but the kind you have to blow up. It was brown and had a bow tie.”
“I might have had one of those when I was a kid.”

我原以為我們會在城里四處尋找，直到夜幕降臨。我以為我會看到自己報(bào)警，在費(fèi)亞茲同情的目光下，給他們描繪索拉博的樣子。我以為會聽見那個(gè)警官疲累冷漠的聲音，例行公事的提問。而在那些正式的問題之后，會來個(gè)私人的問題：不就是又一個(gè)死掉的阿富汗孩子，誰他媽的關(guān)心?。?br />但我們在離清真寺約莫一百米的地方找到他，坐在車輛停滿一半的停車場里面，一片草堆上。費(fèi)亞茲在那片草堆停下，讓我下車?！拔业没厝ァ！彼f。
“好的。我們會走回去。”我說，“謝謝你，費(fèi)亞茲先生，真的謝謝。”我走出去的時(shí)候，他身子從前座探出來?！拔夷軐δ阏f幾句嗎？”?
“當(dāng)然?！?br />在薄暮的黑暗中，他的臉只剩下一對反照出微光的眼鏡。“你們阿富汗的事情……這么說吧，你們有點(diǎn)魯莽。”
我很累，很痛。我的下巴抖動(dòng)，胸膛和腹部那些該死的傷口像魚鉤在拉我的皮膚。但盡管這樣，我還是開始大笑起來。
“我……我說了……”費(fèi)亞茲在說話，但我那時(shí)哈哈大笑，喉頭爆發(fā)出來的笑聲從我縫著線的嘴巴進(jìn)出來。
“瘋掉了。”他說。他踩下油門，車輪在地面打轉(zhuǎn)，尾燈在黯淡的夜光中閃閃發(fā)亮。“你把我嚇壞了。”我說。我在他身旁坐下，強(qiáng)忍彎腰帶來的劇痛。他望著清真寺。費(fèi)薩爾清真寺的外觀像一頂巨大的帳篷。轎車進(jìn)進(jìn)出出，穿著白衣的信徒川流不息。我們默默坐著，我斜倚著樹，索拉博挨著我，膝蓋抵在胸前。我們聽著宣告祈禱開始的鐘聲，看著那屋宇隨日光消退而亮起成千上萬的燈光。清真寺在黑暗中像鉆石那樣閃著光芒。它照亮了夜空，照亮了索拉博的臉龐?！澳闳ミ^馬扎里沙里夫嗎？”索拉博說，下巴放在膝蓋上。
“很久以前去過，我不太記得了。”
“我很小的時(shí)候，爸爸帶我去過那兒，媽媽和莎莎也去了。爸爸在市集給我買了一只猴子。不是真的那種，而是你得把它吹起來的那種。它是棕色的，還打著蝴蝶結(jié)?！?br />“我小時(shí)候似乎也有一只?！?/p>