为您找到与关于春天唯美的散文相关的共200个结果:
英语散文以优美的语言、流畅的句子、生动的描述,给人以美的享受,满足人类心灵的要求,具有很高的审美属性。下面读文网小编为大家带来唯美爱情英语散文,欢迎大家阅读!
Earl March look'd on his dying child,
And, smit with grief to view her--
'The youth,' he cried,'whom I exiled
Shall be restored to woo her.'
马奇伯爵在临死的女儿前,
看着她就悲伤的心疼;
他喊到,“召回我流放的青年,
让他来向我女儿求婚。”
She'd at the window many an hour
His coming to discover:
And he look'd up to Ellen's bower
And she look'd on her lover--
多少个小时她守望在窗口,
为发现她回来的情郎;
当情郎仰视着艾琳的绣楼,
她也把情郎细细望。
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在散文的短小篇幅中,虽然没有像小说一样复杂的故事情节和细致的人物刻画,也没有像戏剧一样大起大落的矛盾冲突,但散文凭借精巧的谋篇布局,巧妙的措辞选景,来渲染气氛,创造意境,从而体现出它独特的风格。下面读文网小编为大家带来有关春天的英语散文:春天的承诺,欢迎大家阅读!
Early in the spring, about a month before my grandpa's stroke, I began walking for an hour every afternoon. Some days I would walk four blocks south to see Grandma and Grandpa. At eighty-six, Grandpa was still quite a gardener, so I always watched for his earliest blooms and each new wave of spring flowers.
I was especially interested in flowers that year because I was planning to landscape my own yard and I was eager to get Grandpa's advice. I thought I knew pretty much what I wanted — a yard full of bushes and plants that would bloom from May till November.
It was right after the first rush of purple violets in the lawns and the sudden blaze of forsythia that spring that Grandpa had a stroke. It left him without speech and with no movement on his left side. The whole family rallied to Grandpa. We all spent many hours by his side. Some days his eyes were eloquent — laughing at our reported mishaps, listening alertly, revealing painful awareness of his inability to care for himself. There were days, too, when he slept most of the time, overcome with the weight of his approaching death.
As the months passed, I watched the growing earth with Grandpa's eyes. Each time I was with him, I gave him a garden report. He listened, gripping my hand with the sure strength and calm he had always had. But he could not answer my questions. The new flowers would blaze, peak, fade, and die before I knew their names.
Grandpa's illness held him through the spring and on, week by week, through summer. I began spending hours at the local nursery, studying and choosing seeds and plants. It gave me special joy to buy plants I had seen in Grandpa's garden and give them humble starts in my own garden. I discovered Sweet William, which I had admired for years in Grandpa's garden without knowing its name. And I planted it in his honor.
As I waited and watched in the garden and by Grandpa's side, some quiet truths emerged. I realized that Grandpa loved flowers that were always bloom; he kept a full bed of roses in his garden. But I noticed that Grandpa left plenty of room for the brief highlights. Not every nook of his garden was constantly in bloom. There was always a treasured surprise tucked somewhere.
I came to see, too, that Grandpa's garden mirrored his life. He was a hard worker who understood the law of the harvest. But along with his hard work, Grandpa knew how to enjoy each season, each change. We often teased him about his life history. He had written two paragraphs summarizing fifty years of work, and a full nine pages about every trip and vacation he'd ever taken.
In July, Grandpa worsened. One hot afternoon arrived when no one else was at his bedside. He was glad to have me there, and reached out his hand to pull me close.
I told Grandpa what I had learned — that few flowers last from April to November. Some of the most beautiful bloom for only a month at most. To really enjoy a garden, you have to plant corners and drifts and rows of flowers that will bloom and grace the garden, each in its own season.
His eyes listened to every word. Then, another discovery: "If I want a garden like yours, Grandpa, I'm going to have to work." His grin laughed at me, and his eyes teased me.
"Grandpa, in your life right now the chrysanthemums are in bloom. Chrysanthemums and roses." Tears clouded both our eyes. Neither of us feared this last flower of fall, but the wait for spring seems longest in November. We knew how much we would miss each other.
Sitting there, I suddenly felt that the best gift I could give Grandpa would be to give voice to the testimony inside both of us. He had never spoken of his testimony to me, but it was such a part of his life that I had never questioned if Grandpa knew. I knew he knew.
"Grandpa," I began — and his grip tightened as if he knew what I was going to say — "I want you to know that I have a testimony. I know the Savior lives. I bear witness to you that Joseph Smith is a prophet. I love the Restoration and joy in it." The steadiness in Grandpa's eyes told how much he felt it too. "I bear witness that President Kimball is a prophet. I know the Book of Mormon is true, Grandpa. Every part of me bears this witness."
"Grandpa," I added quietly, "I know our Father in Heaven loves you." Unbidden, unexpected, the Spirit bore comforting, poignant testimony to me of our Father's love for my humble, quiet Grandpa.
A tangible sense of Heavenly Father's compassionate awareness of Grandpa's suffering surrounded us and held us. It was so personal and powerful that no words were left to me — only tears of gratitude and humility, tears of comfort.
Grandpa and I wept together.
It was the end of August when Grandpa died, the end of summer. As we were choosing flowers from the florist for Grandpa's funeral, I slipped away to Grandpa's garden and walked with my memories of columbine and Sweet William. Only the tall lavender and white phlox were in bloom now, and some baby's breath in another corner.
On impulse, I cut the prettiest strands of phlox and baby's breath and made one more arrangement for the funeral. When they saw it, friends and family all smiled to see Grandpa's flowers there. We all felt how much Grandpa would have liked that.
The October after Grandpa's death, I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs, snowdrops, crocuses, and bluebells. Each bulb was a comfort to me, a love sent to Grandpa, a promise of spring.
早春时节,大约在爷爷中风前的一个月,我开始每天下午散步一个小时。有些日子,我会步行向南穿过四个街区去看望爷爷奶奶。八十六岁的爷爷仍然是一个杰出的花匠,因此我总是观察着他最早盛开的花,以及一片又一片春的花海。
那年,我打算把自己的小院美化一下,因此对花特别感兴趣,期望能够得到爷爷的指导。我以为自己知道究竟需要什么——满院子花草树木,从五月一直开到十一月。
那年春天,就是在草坪里第一丛紫罗兰和突然盛开的鲜艳连翘出现后,爷爷得了中风。他嘴巴不能说话了,身体的左半部分也不能动。家里所有人都来看望爷爷,我们都花了大量的时间陪在他身边。有几天,他眼睛很有神——笑我们所汇报来的不幸,听我们说话也很机警,并说他不能料理自己心里感觉很痛苦。有时候,他一整天都出在睡眠的状态,而且体重也有所增加,随时可能有生命危险。
随着时间的推移,几个月过去了。我像爷爷一样望着地上长出来的东西。每次我和他在一起,我都要向他汇报一下花园的情况。他一边听着,一边用平静地用他一贯的力量紧握着我的手。然而,他无法回答我的问题。因此,很多花朵绽放、憔悴、凋谢和死亡,我甚至都不知道他们的名字。
从春季开始,爷爷就一直受疾病的折磨,一直持续到夏季。我开始料理当地的苗圃,研究选择种子和植株。我买了些曾在爷爷的花园里见过的树木,尽心尽力地种在了我自己的花园里,这给我带来很特别的快乐。我在爷爷的花园里发现了我喜欢多年的美洲石竹,以前一直不知道它的名字,现在我以爷爷的名誉栽下了它。
当我守护在爷爷身边的时候,一些真理静静地涌现。我知道爷爷深爱着那些繁盛的花草;在他的花园里,他种了一苗圃的玫瑰。不过,我也发现爷爷留了很多空地方,只为了能够让光线照进来。花园里并不是每个角落都经常有花开放,但总有一个接一个的惊喜从某个地方冒出来。
我也发现爷爷的花园是他一生的真实写照。他是一个勤劳的工人,他理解收获的规律。但是说起他的辛勤劳动,他又是一个知道如何享受四季和变化的人,我们经常拿他的过去开玩笑。他写了两段文字概述了他五十年的工作。其中,足足有九页文字记载的是他的每次旅行和假期。
七月,爷爷的病情恶化了。有一天下午天气很炎热,没有人在爷爷身边。只有我在,他很高兴,就伸出他的手把我抱得紧紧的。
我把我所学到的告诉了爷爷——很少有花能从五月开到十一月,绝大多部分花最多开一个月。为了真正达到欣赏花园的目的,你必须在每个角落都种上花,丛丛花儿开放,把花园装扮得非常漂亮,每个角落都有四季。
他用眼睛认真地倾听着我的每句话,另一个发现是:“爷爷,如果我想要我的花园像你的花园话,我必须去工作。”他对着我笑,漏出了牙齿,眼神也在嬉笑我。
“爷爷,现在菊花正在开放,菊花和玫瑰花都在开放。”我们俩的眼里都盈满了泪花,我们都不害怕最后一朵花凋谢,但在十一月等待春天未免有点太长了,我们都知道我们会非常想念对方的。
我坐在那里,突然感到我能给爷爷的最好礼物是说出我们之间的承诺。他从来没有对我说起他的承诺,但我从来没有质疑过的就是他人生中的这一部分,如果爷爷知道的话。我知道他所知道的。
“爷爷,”我开始说——他嘴唇紧闭,好像知道我要说什么似的——“我想要你知道我有一个承诺。我知道救世主是存在的,我向你作证约瑟夫•史密斯是个预言家。我爱王政复辟时代,也很希望能加入它。”爷爷坚定的眼神也告诉了我他也有如此强烈的感受。“我向你作证金博尔总统是一个预言家。爷爷,我知道《魔门经》是真的,我拿整个人来向你作证。”
“爷爷,”我语气平和地又说了一句,“我知道我们的上帝是爱你的。”我爷爷地位卑微,但人很平和,我不假思索地意外地想到这种精神给我带来了上帝对爷爷的热爱。
上帝对爷爷所遭受的苦难表示了很大的同情,这种意识一直环绕和支持着我们。这种自我意识是如此有力,以至我无法用语言将其描述——只有感恩和谦恭,还有安慰的泪水。
爷爷和我都流下了眼泪。
八月底,也是夏季即将过去的时候,爷爷还是走了。当大家在花店为爷爷的葬礼选择葬花时,我悄悄地离开来到爷爷的花园。走在花园里,回忆着那些耧斗菜和美洲石竹,现在只有熏衣草和白色夹竹桃在开花,另一个角落里还开放着一些满天星。
一时心血来潮,我把最漂亮的几束夹竹桃和满天星剪了下来,给爷爷葬礼增添了一份装扮。看到这些花的时候,亲友们都因为看到爷爷的花而露出微笑。我们都知道爷爷一定会很喜欢那些花儿的。
在爷爷去世后的十月,我种了一些郁金香、水仙、雪花莲、番红花及蓝铃花。每一个花苞对我来说都是一种安慰,都是给爷爷的一份爱,都是春天的一份承诺。
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WRITING about your feelings, a practice long embraced by teenagers and folk singers, is now attracting attention as a path to good health. And a recent study suggests that reflecting on your emotions could help you get over a breakup. But, one of its authors says, journaling can have its downsides.
Is structured self-reflection, as some suggest, a healthy tuneup for the heart and head — or can it make hurt feelings worse?
For a study published in the journal Social Psychological and Personality Science, Grace M. Larson, a graduate student at Northwestern University, and David A. Sbarra, a psychology professor at the University of Arizona, looked at self-reflection through a speaking exercise. They recruited 210 young people (they ranged in age from 17 to 29) who had recently broken up with their partners, and then split this brokenhearted sample into two groups.
One filled out a questionnaire on how they were feeling, then completed a four-minute assignment in which they were asked to talk into a recording device, free-associating in response to questions like, “When did you first realize you and your partner were headed toward breaking up?” This group repeated the same exercise three, six and nine weeks later.
The second group filled out the questionnaire at the beginning and the end of the nine-week study period (they did the speaking exercise only once, after filling out their final questionnaires).
Ms. Larson and Dr. Sbarra found that the breakup sufferers in the first group experienced greater improvements in “self-concept clarity” than those in the second. Dr. Sbarra defines self-concept clarity as “the degree to which you understand yourself as a person.” He and Ms. Larson measured it by asking subjects how much they agreed with statements like “I do not feel like myself anymore” or “I have regained my identity.” Much of our understanding of ourselves can be bound up in our relationships with our partners, Dr. Sbarra explained — and if we break up, it can be hard to answer questions like “Who am I?” or “Who are my friends?” or “How should I spend my time?” The speaking exercise helped people, he explained, because “it improved their sense of self independent of their former partner.”
That improved sense of self, in turn, led to reductions in loneliness and “emotional intrusion.” As for why the exercise worked, Dr. Sbarra has a few theories. “There is a degree of habituation that takes place as you are repeatedly thinking and talking about the process” of a breakup, he said. “You defang it a little bit.” And, he added, hearing yourself say something may prove revelatory. He imagines a subject’s internal monologue: “I didn’t know I seemed to be getting better until I said I seemed to be getting better. I must be getting better.”
For people going through breakups without the benefit of psychology researchers to record their thoughts, Dr. Sbarra says the study offers some insights. Getting back your sense of self after a breakup, he argued, is crucial: “You really need to figure out a way to pull yourself back together and to try to get some reorganization in terms of who you are, what you do, how you spend your time.” You may not need a recording device to do that — Dr. Sbarra believes that you might also be able to rebuild your self-concept by writing, “in a stream-of-consciousness way, how you’re feeling about things.”
OTHER researchers see benefits from self-reflective writing beyond soothing post-breakup pain — and the practice is drawing media attention, too. At the news website Mic, Rachel Grate cites research by a team from New Zealand showing that writing exercises may aid wound healing. She also quotes the psychologist James W. Pennebaker of the University of Texas at Austin: “When people are given the opportunity to write about emotional upheavals, they often experience improved health.”
According to James Hamblin at The Atlantic, a 2012 study found that writing improved quality of life for breast cancer patients. Laura I. Miller at the website Bustle offers 12 reasons we should all resolve to write more in 2015. And “if writing about the difficult parts of your life were a drug,” writes Drake Baer at Business Insider, “it would be making bank for some faceless pharmaceutical company.”
But if it were a drug, it might be one with a maximum recommended dosage — and warnings for certain patients. In another study, Dr. Sbarra found that divorced people assigned to do expressive writing exercises — essentially, exercises wherein they reflected on their feelings — showed no greater improvement in measures of emotional well-being than those asked to write, without emotion, about what they did during the day. And subjects who tended to ruminate on their situation actually did better if they were assigned to the emotion-free writing.
The prompts in the expressive writing study were more involved than those in the speaking-exercise one — instead of responding to simple questions, participants were asked to “really delve into your deepest emotions and thoughts” or to “work toward creating a coherent story and narrative, with yourself as the storyteller.”
“I think the expressive writing intervention at times can be too heavy-handed,” said Dr. Sbarra. “It can be too directive without allowing people’s natural coping tendencies to do what they’ve done over the course of evolutionary history.” And for some people, reflecting too much on their feelings can make things worse. “That’s the real danger of our journaling culture,” he added — diary writing isn’t “one size fits all.”
For many, the key may turn out to be some self-reflection, but not too much: writing about your feelings, “but then not necessarily mulling over it or doing any more. Just write it, talk about it, leave it, do it again.”
“There’s a really delicate balance between avoiding and getting overinvolved for every stressful event,” Dr. Sbarra explained, “and so you touch on it, you think about it, you put it out there, you reflect, and then you sort of create some distance.”
So if you ever get a prescription for writing, it might read: Spend a little time with your diary — and then go for a walk.
写下自己的感想,这种长期被青少年和民谣歌手所采纳的做法,目前正作为一种保持健康的途径,吸引着人们的注意力。最近的一项研究表明,反思自己的情绪能帮你渡过分手时期。但是,论文的一名作者称,记日记可能会产生消极影响。
有人建议进行有条理的自我反思,但这样做会让身心得到健康的调整——还是会让受伤害的感觉更加强烈?
美国西北大学(Northwestern University)的研究生格雷斯·M·拉尔森(Grace M. Larson)和亚利桑那大学(University of Arizona)的心理学教授戴维·A·斯巴拉(David A. Sbarra)在《社会心理与人格科学》(Social Psychological and Personality Science)期刊上发表了一篇论文,为此,他们通过自述对自我反思进行了研究。他们招募了210名最近与伴侣分手的年轻人(年龄从17岁到29岁不等),然后把这些极度伤心的研究对象分成两组。
其中一组需要填写关于个人感受的调查问卷,然后再对着一台录音设备讲话4分钟,对于“你从什么时候开始意识到自己和伴侣即将分手”等问题,他们可以自由联想。这组人在3周、6周和9周之后,重复了同样的任务。
第二组则在最初和为期9周的研究即将结束时填写了调查问卷(他们只在填完最后的调查问卷后,做过一次自述)。
拉尔森和斯巴拉发现,与第二组因为分手而备受折磨的人相比,第一组人在“自我概念清晰性”方面有更大的改善。根据斯巴拉的定义,自我概念清晰性指的是“人对自身存在的理解程度”。他和拉尔森通过询问研究对象对一些观点的认可程度,对这一点进行了评测。这些观点包括“我觉得自己已经不像自己了”和“我已经找回了自我”等等。斯巴拉解释道,我们对自身的理解在很大程度上可能都与我们和伴侣的关系紧密相关,所以一旦分手,像“我是谁”、“我的朋友都有哪些”或者“我应该如何打发时间”这样的问题,就往往会变得难以回答。他解释说,自述能帮助人们,因为“它可以帮人们提高脱离于前情侣的自立感”。
这种经过提高的自我意识,反过来又能减少孤独感和“情绪入侵”。至于自述为什么会起作用,斯巴拉有几个推测。“随着你反复思考和谈论分手过程,就会产生一定程度的习惯化,”他说。“这样会削弱它的影响力。”他还说,听自己讲述一些内容,可能会具有启发性。他想象研究对象的内心独白:“直到我说出自己似乎好些了,才知道我似乎真的已经好些了。我一定要好起来。”
斯巴拉说,对于那些在分手后没有心理学研究人员帮他们记录想法的人,这项研究提供了一些启发。他认为,在分手后找回自我意识至关重要:“你真的需要找到一种找回自我的方式,试着对你是谁,你要做什么,你应该如何打发时间等问题进行重组。”做到这一点,你或许并不需要录音设备——斯巴拉认为你或许也能通过写作来重塑自我概念,“以一种意识流的方式来书写你对事物的感觉”。
还有一些研究人员发现,进行反思式写作除了可以缓解分手后的痛苦,还有其他好处,这种做法也获得了媒体关注。在新闻网站Mic上,拉赫尔·格拉特(Rachel Grate)提到了一个新西兰团队的研究项目,该研究说明写作联系可能有助于创伤修复。她还引用德克萨斯大学奥斯汀分校(University of Texas at Austin)心理学家詹姆斯·W·佩内贝克(James W. Pennebaker)的话称,“当人们有机会记录自己的情绪波动时,他们的健康状况通常会有所改善。”
詹姆斯·汉布林(James Hamblin)在《大西洋月刊》(The Atlantic)杂志发表文章称,2012年的一项研究发现,写作的做法提高了乳腺癌患者的生活质量。劳拉·I·米勒(Laura I. Miller)在Bustle网站撰文,列出了我们在2015年应该决心记录更多的12个理由。“如果记录生活中的艰难时刻的做法是一种药物,”德雷克·贝尔(Drake Baer)在商业内幕(Business Insider)网站上写道,“一些不知名的制药公司就可以一夜暴富了。”
但如果这是一种药物,它可能会设有最大推荐剂量——以及针对某些病人的警告。在另一项研究中,斯巴拉发现,与那些没有情绪的、被要求记录一天当中的所作所为的人相比,被指派做表达性写作练习的——基本上是记录对自己的感觉的反思——离婚人士并没有获得更大程度的改善。当那些倾向于反思自身情况的人被指派进行无情绪写作时,他们实际上做得更好。
表达性写作研究中的提示比自述研究的提示更为深入。它要求参与者“真正探索自己最深层的感受与想法”或“自己作为叙述者,努力创作一个连贯的故事”,而不仅限于回答简单的问题。
“我觉得表达性写作这种干预手段有时会力度过大,”斯巴拉说。“如果不允许人采用自然的应对机制,从事他们在演化过程中发展出来的惯用做法,那么这种手段就会指令性过强。”对于一些人来说,过度反思自己的感受会让情况变得更糟。“这是日记文化真正的危险所在,”他还表示——写日记的做法“并不适用于所有人”。
对于很多人而言,秘诀可能是一定程度上的自我反思,可是不要过多:记录自己的感受,“但不一定要思前想后或做更多的事情。就把它记录下来,聊一聊,然后遗忘,再来一遍”。
“实际上,对于每一个承受压力的情境,在避免过分投入和过分投入之间存在微妙的平衡,”斯巴拉解释称,“你提到这种情绪,你去思考它,把事实摆在那儿,反思,然后就在某种程度上拉开了一些距离。”
因此,如果你得到了一张有关写作的处方,它可能是这么写的:花一点时间写日记,然后出去走走。
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Unconsciously, floating in the air and to the spring, green in the hills gradually rekindled the fiery Spring, Alexa wearing heavy winter cold. Gentle wind holding moist aromatic, and the wind blowing gently, it was the spring of melody.
What is the spring is the bright spring breeze, soft cool and bright, in the quiet forest mapping, lingering melody Gone with the Wind Pro descended, accompanied by songs in the hope that the sun rising. Spring is the Wind light rain, mist cage scent waterside living shadow of life in this hazy atmosphere born breeds.
Green, green everywhere. Green grass, green trees, green forest, green world. Look! Shine in the sun under the trees, just like picture on the green stream For Lin.
Look! Green hillside full of flowers of different colors of like to hill covered with a piece of carpet color is still a small butterflies and flowers play it! Distribute these spend out The fragrance, which lead to a naive young girl, her clothes with a very coordinated, small-cap blue-yellow skirt Red Shoes, at first glance to, just like spring in the Little Angels. Empoasca may also reveal the flow of rain pearls , has just been like a spring rain. a drop of water around a big girl, Gone with the Wind Gone with the Wind ah ah, blown by a beautiful scenery and beautiful place. here out of the new leaves of the trees also grow the green of leaves, tall and straight Several big leaves of the trees above the branches have been . a spring breeze blowing, shaking with its pattern of braided green, singing the melody of spring.
Spring girl wearing a green dress, quietly in the land of green. The spring of melody in the spring at the foot of the girl rang. Chun simple and natural in her life, to arouse the awe-inspiring human life heroic, so full of hope to life . forget when experiencing setbacks like tearing pain, forget the loneliness, the falling ice bleak penetrate to the bone-like. so that the lives of music, the melody never spring: flower flowers all over the sky to fly, the young die hard youth without any regrets , come spring to spring, the same young hearts.
不知不觉,春飘然而至,在渐渐泛绿的山丘上燃起了如火的春色,灼穿了冬日的沉沉寒意.轻柔的风夹着湿润的芳香,轻轻拂过,那是春的旋律.
春是什么春是那明月清风,柔媚清朗,在苔痕映照的静寂林间,清冽缠绵的旋律翩然飘临,希望伴着歌声在阳光中冉冉升起.春是那淡雨疏风,薄雾浓云,笼住水边清香的荫影,生命在这朦胧凄迷的氛围中孕育而生.
绿,到处是一片绿.绿的草,绿的树,绿的林,绿的世界.看!在阳光照耀下的树林,就像画卷上翠绿欲流的林海.
快看!绿色的山坡上开满了含苞欲放的各色小花,像给山冈铺上了一块彩色的绒毯······一只小蝴蝶还在和花儿嬉戏呢!这些花散发出来的芬芳,引来了一个天真的小姑娘,她衣服搭配的很协调,黄裙蓝帽小红鞋,乍一看去,就像春天里的小天使.绿叶还流着露似珍珠的雨滴,像是刚下过一场春雨.一滴大水珠包住了小姑娘,飘啊飘啊,飘到了一处风景秀丽,环境幽雅的地方.这里的树木抽出了新芽,也长出了嫩绿的叶子,几株高大挺拔的桑树上面的桑叶已经缀满枝头.一阵春风吹来,柳叶晃动着它那嫩绿的辫子,歌唱着春天的旋律.
春姑娘穿着绿色的衣裙,悄悄地走在绿色的大地上.春的旋律在春姑娘的脚下响了起来.春以她纯朴和自然的气息,唤起人类生命中的凛然豪气,让生命充满希望.忘却在经受挫折时撕裂般的痛楚,忘却在孤独时,寒星跌落冰河般的彻骨凄凉.让生活的乐谱,永远奏着春的旋律:漫天的花谢花飞,难改青春的年少无悔,岁月的春去春来,不变的是年轻的心.
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Springs are not always the same. In some years, April bursts upon Virginia hills in one prodigious leap - and all the stage is filled at once, whole choruses of tulips, arabesques of forsythia, cadenzas of flowering plum. The trees grow leaves overnight.
In other years, spring tiptoes in. It pauses, overcome by shyness, like my grandchild at the door, peeping in, ducking out of sight, giggling in the hallway. “I know you’re out there,” I cry. “Come in!” And April slips into our arms.
The dogwood bud, pale green, is inlaid with russet markings. Within the perfect cup a score of clustered seeds are nestled. One examines the bud in awe: Where were those seeds a month ago? The apples display their milliner’s scraps of ivory silk, rose-tinged. All the sleeping things wake up - primrose, baby iris, blue phlox. The earth warms - you can smell it, feel it, crumble April in your hands.
Look to the rue anemone, if you will, or the pea patch, or to the stubborn weed that thrusts its shoulders through a city street. This is how it was, is now, and ever shall be, the world without end. In the serene certainty of spring recurring, who can fear the distant fall?
春不总是千篇一律的。有时候,四月一个健步就跃上了弗吉尼亚的小山丘。顿时,整个舞台活跃起来:郁金香们引吭高歌,连翘花翩翩起舞,梅花表演起了独奏。树木也在一夜之间披上了新绿。
有时候,春又悄然来临。它欲前又止,羞涩腼腆,就像我的小孙女,倚在门口,偷偷往里瞅,又一下子跑开了,不见踪影,从门厅传出她咯咯的笑声。我喊一声:“我知道你在那儿,进来吧!”于是四月便倏地一下飞进我们怀中。
山茱萸的花骨朵儿嫩绿嫩绿的,镶着赤褐色的花边。在那漂亮的花萼里,竟稳稳地簇拥着十几颗小种子。我们不禁要惊羡地问一句:一个月前这些种子还在哪儿呢?苹果树则像卖帽人,向人们展示他帽子上那一片片微带点玫瑰红地乳白色丝缎。所有熟睡的都醒了——樱草花、小蝴蝶花、蓝夹竹桃。大地也暖和起来了——你可以闻到四月的气息,感觉到它那股馨香,把它捧在手中赏玩。
去看看白头翁花,如果你愿意,再去看看豌豆畦,或是那倔强地手臂伸过城市街道的野花。它们从前是这样,现在是这样,将来还会是这样,这是个永不停息的世界。当我们发现,春已切切实实地回来了,在恬静之中,谁还会害怕遥远的秋天呢?
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A Promise of Spring
Early in the spring, about a month before my grandpa's stroke, I began walking for an hour every afternoon. Some days I would walk four blocks south to see Grandma and Grandpa. At eighty-six, Grandpa was still quite a gardener, so I always watched for his earliest blooms and each new wave of spring flowers.
I was especially interested in flowers that year because I was planning to landscape my own yard and I was eager to get Grandpa's advice. I thought I knew pretty much what I wanted — a yard full of bushes and plants that would bloom from May till November.
It was right after the first rush of purple violets in the lawns and the sudden blaze of forsythia that spring that Grandpa had a stroke. It left him without speech and with no movement on his left side. The whole family rallied to Grandpa. We all spent many hours by his side. Some days his eyes were eloquent — laughing at our reported mishaps, listening alertly, revealing painful awareness of his inability to care for himself. There were days, too, when he slept most of the time, overcome with the weight of his approaching death.
As the months passed, I watched the growing earth with Grandpa's eyes. Each time I was with him, I gave him a garden report. He listened, gripping my hand with the sure strength and calm he had always had. But he could not answer my questions. The new flowers would blaze, peak, fade, and die before I knew their names.
Grandpa's illness held him through the spring and on, week by week, through summer. I began spending hours at the local nursery, studying and choosing seeds and plants. It gave me special joy to buy plants I had seen in Grandpa's garden and give them humble starts in my own garden. I discovered Sweet William, which I had admired for years in Grandpa's garden without knowing its name. And I planted it in his honor.
As I waited and watched in the garden and by Grandpa's side, some quiet truths emerged. I realized that Grandpa loved flowers that were always bloom; he kept a full bed of roses in his garden. But I noticed that Grandpa left plenty of room for the brief highlights. Not every nook of his garden was constantly in bloom. There was always a treasured surprise tucked somewhere.
I came to see, too, that Grandpa's garden mirrored his life. He was a hard worker who understood the law of the harvest. But along with his hard work, Grandpa knew how to enjoy each season, each change. We often teased him about his life history. He had written two paragraphs summarizing fifty years of work, and a full nine pages about every trip and vacation he'd ever taken.
In July, Grandpa worsened. One hot afternoon arrived when no one else was at his bedside. He was glad to have me there, and reached out his hand to pull me close.
I told Grandpa what I had learned — that few flowers last from April to November. Some of the most beautiful bloom for only a month at most. To really enjoy a garden, you have to plant corners and drifts and rows of flowers that will bloom and grace the garden, each in its own season.
His eyes listened to every word. Then, another discovery: "If I want a garden like yours, Grandpa, I'm going to have to work." His grin laughed at me, and his eyes teased me.
"Grandpa, in your life right now the chrysanthemums are in bloom. Chrysanthemums and roses." Tears clouded both our eyes. Neither of us feared this last flower of fall, but the wait for spring seems longest in November. We knew how much we would miss each other.
Sitting there, I suddenly felt that the best gift I could give Grandpa would be to give voice to the testimony inside both of us. He had never spoken of his testimony to me, but it was such a part of his life that I had never questioned if Grandpa knew. I knew he knew.
"Grandpa," I began — and his grip tightened as if he knew what I was going to say — "I want you to know that I have a testimony. I know the Savior lives. I bear witness to you that Joseph Smith is a prophet. I love the Restoration and joy in it." The steadiness in Grandpa's eyes told how much he felt it too. "I bear witness that President Kimball is a prophet. I know the Book of Mormon is true, Grandpa. Every part of me bears this witness."
"Grandpa," I added quietly, "I know our Father in Heaven loves you." Unbidden, unexpected, the Spirit bore comforting, poignant testimony to me of our Father's love for my humble, quiet Grandpa.
A tangible sense of Heavenly Father's compassionate awareness of Grandpa's suffering surrounded us and held us. It was so personal and powerful that no words were left to me — only tears of gratitude and humility, tears of comfort.
Grandpa and I wept together.
It was the end of August when Grandpa died, the end of summer. As we were choosing flowers from the florist for Grandpa's funeral, I slipped away to Grandpa's garden and walked with my memories of columbine and Sweet William. Only the tall lavender and white phlox were in bloom now, and some baby's breath in another corner.
On impulse, I cut the prettiest strands of phlox and baby's breath and made one more arrangement for the funeral. When they saw it, friends and family all smiled to see Grandpa's flowers there. We all felt how much Grandpa would have liked that.
The October after Grandpa's death, I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs, snowdrops, crocuses, and bluebells. Each bulb was a comfort to me, a love sent to Grandpa, a promise of spring.
早春时节,大约在爷爷中风前的一个月,我开始每天下午散步一个小时。有些日子,我会步行向南穿过四个街区去看望爷爷奶奶。八十六岁的爷爷仍然是一个杰出的花匠,因此我总是观察着他最早盛开的花,以及一片又一片春的花海。
那年,我打算把自己的小院美化一下,因此对花特别感兴趣,期望能够得到爷爷的指导。我以为自己知道究竟需要什么——满院子花草树木,从五月一直开到十一月。
那年春天,就是在草坪里第一丛紫罗兰和突然盛开的鲜艳连翘出现后,爷爷得了中风。他嘴巴不能说话了,身体的左半部分也不能动。家里所有人都来看望爷爷,我们都花了大量的时间陪在他身边。有几天,他眼睛很有神——笑我们所汇报来的不幸,听我们说话也很机警,并说他不能料理自己心里感觉很痛苦。有时候,他一整天都出在睡眠的状态,而且体重也有所增加,随时可能有生命危险。
随着时间的推移,几个月过去了。我像爷爷一样望着地上长出来的东西。每次我和他在一起,我都要向他汇报一下花园的情况。他一边听着,一边用平静地用他一贯的力量紧握着我的手。然而,他无法回答我的问题。因此,很多花朵绽放、憔悴、凋谢和死亡,我甚至都不知道他们的名字。
从春季开始,爷爷就一直受疾病的折磨,一直持续到夏季。我开始料理当地的苗圃,研究选择种子和植株。我买了些曾在爷爷的花园里见过的树木,尽心尽力地种在了我自己的花园里,这给我带来很特别的快乐。我在爷爷的花园里发现了我喜欢多年的美洲石竹,以前一直不知道它的名字,现在我以爷爷的名誉栽下了它。
当我守护在爷爷身边的时候,一些真理静静地涌现。我知道爷爷深爱着那些繁盛的花草;在他的花园里,他种了一苗圃的玫瑰。不过,我也发现爷爷留了很多空地方,只为了能够让光线照进来。花园里并不是每个角落都经常有花开放,但总有一个接一个的惊喜从某个地方冒出来。
我也发现爷爷的花园是他一生的真实写照。他是一个勤劳的工人,他理解收获的规律。但是说起他的辛勤劳动,他又是一个知道如何享受四季和变化的人,我们经常拿他的过去开玩笑。他写了两段文字概述了他五十年的工作。其中,足足有九页文字记载的是他的每次旅行和假期。
七月,爷爷的病情恶化了。有一天下午天气很炎热,没有人在爷爷身边。只有我在,他很高兴,就伸出他的手把我抱得紧紧的。
我把我所学到的告诉了爷爷——很少有花能从五月开到十一月,绝大多部分花最多开一个月。为了真正达到欣赏花园的目的,你必须在每个角落都种上花,丛丛花儿开放,把花园装扮得非常漂亮,每个角落都有四季。
他用眼睛认真地倾听着我的每句话,另一个发现是:“爷爷,如果我想要我的花园像你的花园话,我必须去工作。”他对着我笑,漏出了牙齿,眼神也在嬉笑我。
“爷爷,现在菊花正在开放,菊花和玫瑰花都在开放。”我们俩的眼里都盈满了泪花,我们都不害怕最后一朵花凋谢,但在十一月等待春天未免有点太长了,我们都知道我们会非常想念对方的。
我坐在那里,突然感到我能给爷爷的最好礼物是说出我们之间的承诺。他从来没有对我说起他的承诺,但我从来没有质疑过的就是他人生中的这一部分,如果爷爷知道的话。我知道他所知道的。
“爷爷,”我开始说——他嘴唇紧闭,好像知道我要说什么似的——“我想要你知道我有一个承诺。我知道救世主是存在的,我向你作证约瑟夫•史密斯是个预言家。我爱王政复辟时代,也很希望能加入它。”爷爷坚定的眼神也告诉了我他也有如此强烈的感受。“我向你作证金博尔总统是一个预言家。爷爷,我知道《魔门经》是真的,我拿整个人来向你作证。”
“爷爷,”我语气平和地又说了一句,“我知道我们的上帝是爱你的。”我爷爷地位卑微,但人很平和,我不假思索地意外地想到这种精神给我带来了上帝对爷爷的热爱。
上帝对爷爷所遭受的苦难表示了很大的同情,这种意识一直环绕和支持着我们。这种自我意识是如此有力,以至我无法用语言将其描述——只有感恩和谦恭,还有安慰的泪水。
爷爷和我都流下了眼泪。
八月底,也是夏季即将过去的时候,爷爷还是走了。当大家在花店为爷爷的葬礼选择葬花时,我悄悄地离开来到爷爷的花园。走在花园里,回忆着那些耧斗菜和美洲石竹,现在只有熏衣草和白色夹竹桃在开花,另一个角落里还开放着一些满天星。
一时心血来潮,我把最漂亮的几束夹竹桃和满天星剪了下来,给爷爷葬礼增添了一份装扮。看到这些花的时候,亲友们都因为看到爷爷的花而露出微笑。我们都知道爷爷一定会很喜欢那些花儿的。
在爷爷去世后的十月,我种了一些郁金香、水仙、雪花莲、番红花及蓝铃花。每一个花苞对我来说都是一种安慰,都是给爷爷的一份爱,都是春天的一份承诺。
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Recovery of all things spring, spring rain Sasa it like a fluttering gently footsteps of the painter, a Buliu Shen it has to every corner of the earth printed on a color.
春天万物复苏,春雨飘飘洒洒它像一个脚步轻轻的画家,一不留神它已经把大地每一个角落都印上了色彩.
Field, flower garden, the forest have a girl left behind traces of the spring, she decorated in earth Huanran, a new, beautiful and peaceful
田野上,花圃上,森林里都有着春姑娘留下足迹,她把大地装饰得涣然一新,美丽,祥和
Lovely girl-chun, strode the world came to light steps, and that picture will be a very lively scene in all directions then came, the whole world like a long sleep just wakened up.
可爱的春姑娘,迈着轻盈的步子来到人间,那一片生机的景象便随之来到四面八方,整个世界像刚从一个漫长的睡梦中苏醒过来。
fields confusing wheat green, I looked boundless, as if the green wave. That golden wild flowers, in the Green Wave in flash.
田野上,麦苗返青,一望无边,仿佛绿色的波浪。那金黄色的野菜花,在绿波中闪光。
Spring makes everything young again except man.
春天使万物重返青春,除了人之外。
A single flower does not make a spring.
一花独放不是春,百花齐放春满园。
Spring returns to the earth. (或:Spring is here again.)
大地回春。
Spring makes everything young again except man.
春天使万物重返青春,除了人之外。
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不少女生都想自己找一个好看又好听的英文名字,好听又适合自己的名字也挺难找的,下面读文网小编为大带来好看好听的女生英文名,希望大家喜欢。
Selena 萨琳娜 拉丁 月亮,月光。
Violet 维尔莉特 苏格兰、意大利 紫罗兰;谦虚。
Tobey 托比 希伯来 鸽子,美好的,有礼貌的
Xanthe 桑席 希腊 金黄色头发的。
Sabrina 莎柏琳娜 拉丁 从边界来的人。
Susanna 苏珊娜 希伯来 百合花。
Vera 维拉 俄国,拉丁 诚实,忠诚。
Dorothy 桃乐斯……上帝的赠礼
Audrey 奥德莉……高贵显赫的人
Jennifer 珍尼佛……白色的波 施魔法 妖艳 迷人的女人 太神奇了
Elvira 艾薇拉……小精灵 白种人的
Candice 坎蒂丝……热情 坦诚 纯洁的
Lesley 雷思丽……来自老的保垒
Kelly 凯莉盖 - 女战士
Betty 贝蒂……上帝是誓约
Lauren 萝伦……月桂树
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想找一些唯美的英文句子做自己的QQ签名吗?下面读文网小编为大带来唯美个性英文签名,希望大家喜欢!
Nobody could ever replace you.
谁也替代不了你。
I love the man isn't my lover.
( 我爱的人不是我的爱人 )
I want along with you
“我想和你在一起”
“我想要两颗西柚。” “什么?”
“I want to see you.”
You don't laugh tears away.
[你别笑了眼泪都掉了]
Put you in my heart
[把你放在我心里]
When we lose, just know oneself
当我们失去的时候,才知道自己曾经拥有
We just met not to start
(我们只是相遇未曾开始)
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From the window of my room, I could see a tall cotton-rose hibiscus. In spring, when green foliage was half hidden by mist, the tree looked very enchanting dotted with red blossom. This inspiring neighbor of mine often set my mind working. I gradually regarded it as my best friend.
从我的房间的窗子向外望去,可以看到一株高大的芙蓉树。春日里,芙蓉树在薄雾中若隐若现,红花点点,样子实在迷人。它总是赋予我灵感,让我思如泉涌。时间久了,我竟把这菱蓉视为知已了。
Nevertheless, when I opened the window one morning, to my amazement, the tree was almost bare beyond recognition as a result of the storm ravages the night before. Struck by the plight, I was seized with a sadness at the thought “all the blossom is doomed to fall”. I could not help sighing with emotion: the course of life never runs smooth, for there are so many ups and downs, twists and turns. The vicissitudes of my life saw my beloved friends parting one after another. Isn’t it similar to the tree shedding its flowers in the wind?
然而,一天清晨,当我推开窗子时,愕然发现前夜的一场风雨已将它摧残得落红满地。刹那间,我有一种"花开终有落"的悲凉感觉。这使我不由得发出一声慨叹:人生的旅途中,总是少不了种种羁绊,那些曲折的经历总会伴随着我们。曾经失去过的挚爱的朋友,生命的脆弱不正是像这随风而逝的花吗?
This event faded from my memory as time went by. One day after I came home from the countryside, I found the room stuffy and casually opened the window. Something outside caught my eye and dazzled me. It was a plum tree all scarlet with blossom set off beautifully by the sunset. The surprise discovery overwhelmed me with pleasure. I wondered why I had no idea of some unyielding life sprouting over the fallen petals when I was grieving for the hibiscus.
随着时间的流逝,我渐渐地把那天的感触淡忘了,一次出差回来,感到屋内的空气有些沉闷,于是我不经意的打开了窗,可就在那一瞬,我被眼前的景象惊呆了。窗外,一株李子树开花了,火红火红的花朵,满树都是。在夕阳的映衬下,分外美丽。这意外让我惊喜不已。没想到当初自己只顾悲伤,却没发现那凄凉的背后,竟存在着如此坚强的灵魂。
When the last withered petal dropped, all the joyful admiration for the hibiscus sank into oblivion as if nothing was left, until the landscape was again ablaze with the red plum blossom to remind people of life’s alternation and continuance. Can’t it be said that life is actually a symphony, a harmonious composition of loss and gain.
是啊,当芙蓉的最后一片花瓣凋落之时,人们以往对它的赞许都已成为过眼云烟。可如今,李子树却成长起来了,那火红的花儿正向人们昭示着生命的更迭与繁衍。谁能否认生命原本就是一场得失共存的交响音呢?
Standing by the window lost in thought for a long time, I realized that no scenery in the world remains unchanged. As long as you keep your heart basking in the sun, every dawn will present a fine prospect for you to unfold and the world will always be about new hopes.
我久久地伫立在窗前,深深感悟到,生命之中本没有一成不变的风景,只要你的心永远向着阳光,那么每一个清晨就会向你展现出一个等待着由你来开启的美景。不管你正经历着怎样的风雨,请相信,这个世界总会带给你新的希望。
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John and Bobby joined a wholesale company togther just after graduation from college the same year. Both worked very hard. After several years, however, the boss promoted Bobby to the posotion of manager but John remained an ordinary employee. John could not take it anymore, tendered his resignation to the boss and complained the boss did not know how to delegate and did not value hard working staff, but only promoted those who flattered him.
约翰和博比同年大学毕业后,被同一家批发公司录用。他们二人工作都很努力。然而,几年后,老板提拔博比为部门经理,而约翰还是一名普通员工。约翰再也无法忍受,冲动之下写了一封辞职信,并抱怨老板不会用人,不重用那些敬业的员工,只提升那些奉承他的人。
The boss knew that John worked very hard for the years. He thought for a moment and said, "Thank you for your criticism, but I have a request. I hope you will do one more thing for our company before you leave. Perhaps you will change your mind and take back your resignation."
老板知道这几年约翰工作确实很努力。他想了一会儿说:“谢谢你对我的批评。但是我只有一个请求,我希望在你离开之前再为公司做一件事情。或许到时你会改变决定,收回辞呈。”
John agreed. The boss asked him to go and find out anyone selling watermelon in the market. John went and returned soon. He said he had found out a man selling watermelon. The boss asked how much per kg? John shook his head and went back to the market to ask and returned to inform the boss $1.2 per kg.
约翰答应了。 老板让他去市场找到一个卖西瓜的人。约翰去了并很快回来。他说他找到了一个卖西瓜的人。老板问他每公斤多少钱?约翰摇摇头,回到市场去问,然后又回来告诉老板每公斤1.2美元。
Boss told John to wait a second, and he called Bobby to come to his office. He asked Bobby to go and find anyone seling watermelon in the market. Bobby went, returned and said, boss, only one person selling watermelon. $1.2 per kg, $10 for 10kg, he has inventory of 340 melons. On the table 58 melons, every melon weights about 2 kg, bought from the South two days ago, they are fresh and red, good quality.
老板让约翰等一会儿,这时他把博比叫到办公室。他让博比去市场找到一个卖西瓜的人。博比去了,回来之后说:“老板,只有一个卖西瓜的人,每公斤 1.2美元,每10公斤卖10美元。这个人一共有340个西瓜,其中58个放在货架上,每个西瓜重约2公斤,都是两天前从南方运来的,新鲜,红瓤,质量好。”
John was very impresed and realized the difference between himself and Bobby. He decided not to resign but to learn from Bobby.
约翰受到很大的触动,他意识到自己与博比之间的差距。他决定收回辞呈并向博比学习。
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To respect my work, my associates and myself. To be honest and fair with them as I expect them to be honest and fair with me. To be a man whose word carries weight. To be a booster, not a knocker; a pusher, not a kicker; a motor, not a clog.
To base my expectations of reward on a solid foundation of service rendered; to be willing to pay the price of success in honest effort. To look upon my work as opportunity, to be seized with joy and made the most of, and not as painful drudgery to be reluctantly endured.
To remember that success lies within myself; in my own brain, my own ambition, my own courage and determination. To expect difficulties and force my way through them, to turn hard experiences into capital for future struggles.
To interest my heart and soul in my work, and aspire to the highest efficiency in the achievement of results. To be patiently receptive of just criticism and profit from its teaching. To treat equals and superiors with respect, and subordinates with kindly encouragement.
To make a study of my business duties; to know my work from the ground up. To mix brains with my efforts and use system and method in all I undertake. To find time to do everything needful by never letting time find me or my subordinates doing nothing. To hoard days as a miser does dollars, to make every hour bring me dividends in specific results accomplished. To steer clear of dissipation and guard my health of body and peace of mind as my most precious stock in trade.
Finally, to take a good grip on the joy of life; to play the game like a gentleman; to fight against nothing so hard as my own weakness, and endeavor to grow in business capacity, and as a man, with the passage of every day of time.
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It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return. But what is more painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let that person know how you feel.
只有付出的爱是痛苦的,但比这更痛苦是爱一个人却没有勇气让那人知道你的感情。
A sad thing in life is when you meet someone who means a lot to you,only to find out in the end that it was never meant to be and you just have to let go.
生命中令人悲伤的一件事是你遇到了一个对你来说很重要的人,但却最终发现你们有缘无份,因此你不得不放手。
The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch swing with,never say a word,and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you've ever had.
最好的朋友就是那种能和你促膝而坐,彼此不说只字片语,分别时却感到这是你有过的最好的一次交流!
It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.
的确只有当我们失去时才知道曾拥有的是什么,同样,只有当我们拥有了才知道曾经失去了什么。
It takes only a minute to get a crush on someone,an hour to like someone,and a day to love someone- but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.
迷上某人只需一分钟,喜欢上某人需要一小时,爱上某人则要一天,然而,忘记某人却是一辈子的事情。
Don't go for looks;they can deceive. Don't go for wealth;even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright.
别倾心于容貌,因为它具有欺骗性,也别倾心于财富,它也会消散,倾心于那个能带给你笑容的人吧,因为一个笑容能使漫漫长夜如白昼般明亮。
Dream what you want to dream;go where you want to go;be what you want to be,because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.
做你想做的梦吧,去你想去的地方吧,成为你想成为的人吧,因为你只有一次生命,一个机会去做所有那些你想做的事。
Always put yourself in the other's shoes. If you feel that it hurts you,it probably hurts the person too.
要设身处地的为别人着想, 如果一双鞋你穿着夹脚, 别人的感觉可能也一样。
A careless word may kindle strife;a cruel word may wreck a life;a timely word may level stress;a loving word may heal and bless.
无心快语可能引发争执,无情之词可能折损生命,适时温语可能消弭压力,而关爱之声可能治愈心灵。
The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.
幸福之人并非拥有一切,只是尽力享受生活的赐予。
Love begins with a smile,grows with a kiss,ends with a tear. When you were born,you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so that when you die,you're the one smiling and everyone around you is crying.
爱情以笑开始,以吻转浓,以泪结束。当你哭着降临人世时,身边的每个人都在为此欢笑,好好生活吧,这样你就能含笑离开人世,而身边的每个人都在为此哭泣。
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Time is running out for my friend. While we are sitting at lunch she casually mentions she and her husband are thinking of starting a family. "We're taking a survey,"she says, half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"
"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. "I know,"she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous holidays..."
But that's not what I mean at all. I look at my friend, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will be vulnerable forever.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without thinking: "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub.
I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for child care, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting, and she will think her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her child is all right.
I want my friend to know that every decision will no longer be routine. That a five-year-old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at a restaurant will become a major dilemma. The issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in the lavatory. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive friend, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the added weight of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her own life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. She would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years—not to accomplish her own dreams—but to watch her children accomplish theirs.
I want to describe to my friend the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to hit a ball. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it hurts.
My friend's look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I say finally. Then, squeezing my friend's hand, I offer a prayer for her and me and all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this holiest of callings.
英语精美散文摘抄译文
时光任苒,朋友已经老大不小了。我们坐在一起吃饭的时候,她漫不经心地提到她和她的丈夫正考虑要小孩。“我们正在做一项调查,”她半开玩笑地说。“你觉得我应该要个小孩吗?”
“他将改变你的生活。”我小心翼翼地说道,尽量使语气保持客观。“这我知道。”她答道,“周末睡不成懒觉,再也不能随心所欲休假了……”
但我说的绝非这些。我注视着朋友,试图整理一下自己的思绪。我想让她知道她永远不可能在分娩课上学到的东西。我想让她知道:分娩的有形伤疤可以愈合,但是做母亲的情感伤痕却永远如新,她会因此变得十分脆弱。
我想告诫她:做了母亲后,每当她看报纸时就会情不自禁地联想:“如果那件事情发生在我的孩子身上将会怎样啊!”每一次飞机失事、每一场住宅火灾都会让她提心吊胆。看到那些忍饥挨饿的孩子们的照片时,她会思索:世界上还有什么比眼睁睁地看着自己的孩子饿死更惨的事情呢?我打量着她精修细剪的指甲和时尚前卫的衣服,心里想到:不管她打扮多么考究,做了母亲后,她会变得像护崽的母熊那样原始而不修边幅。
我觉得自己应该提醒她,不管她在工作上投入了多少年,一旦做了母亲,工作就会脱离常规。她自然可以安排他人照顾孩子,但说不定哪天她要去参加一个非常重要的商务会议,却忍不住想起宝宝身上散发的甜甜乳香。她不得不拼命克制自己,才不致于为了看看孩子是否安然无羔而中途回家。
我想告诉朋友,有了孩子后,她将再也不能按照惯例做出决定。在餐馆,5岁的儿子想进男厕而不愿进女厕将成为摆在她眼前的一大难题:她将在两个选择之间权衡一番:尊重孩子的独立和性别意识,还是让他进男厕所冒险被潜在的儿童性骚扰者侵害?任凭她在办公室多么果断,作为母亲,她仍经常事后后悔自己当时的决定。
注视着我的这位漂亮的朋友,我想让她明确地知道,她最终会恢复到怀孕前的体重,但是她对自己的感觉已然不同。她现在视为如此重要的生命将随着孩子的诞生而变得不那么宝贵。为了救自己的孩子,她时刻愿意献出自己的生命。但她也开始希望多活一些年头,不是为了实现自己的梦想,而是为了看着孩子们美梦成真。
我想向朋友形容自己看到孩子学会击球时的喜悦之情。我想让她留意宝宝第一次触摸狗的绒毛时的捧腹大笑。我想让她品尝快乐,尽管这快乐真实得令人心痛。
朋友的表情让我意识到自己已经是热泪盈眶。“你永远不会后悔,”我最后说。然后紧紧地握住朋友的手,为她、为自己、也为每一位艰难跋涉、准备响应母亲职业神圣的召唤的平凡女性献上自己的祈祷
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Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a great ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.
I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy - ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness--that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what--at last--I have found.
With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine. And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.
Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate this evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.
This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.
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西方英语散文精炼优美,朴素自然,感情浓郁,使读者在品读优美文字的同时领略西方文化,感受浪漫情怀。下面读文网小编为大家带来西方英语散文阅读,欢迎阅读欣赏!
Catch the star that holds your destiny, the one that forever twinkles within your heart. Take advantage of precious opportunities while they still sparkle before you. Always believe that your ultimate goal is attainable as long as you commit yourself to it.
Though barriers may sometimes stand in the way of your dreams, remember that your destiny is hiding behind them. Accept the fact that not everyone is going to approve of the choices you’ve made. Have faith in your judgment. Catch the star that twinkles in your heart and it will lead you to your destiny’s path. Follow that pathway and uncover the sweet sunrises that await you.
Take pride in your accomplishments, as they are stepping stones to your dreams. Understand that you may make mistakes, but don’t let them discourage you. Value your capabilities and talents for they are what make you truly unique. The greatest gifts in life are not purchased, but acquired through hard work and determination. Find the star that twinkles in your heart—for you alone are capable of making your brightest dreams come true. Give your hopes everything you’ve got and you will catch the star that holds your destiny.
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I’ve opened the curtain of my east window here above the computer, and I sit now in a holy theater before a sky-blue stage. A little cloud above the neighbor’s trees resembles Jimmy Durante’s nose for a while, then becomes amorphous as it slips on north. Other clouds follow: big and little and tiny on their march toward whereness. Wisps of them lead or droop because there must always be leading and drooping.
The trees seem to laugh at the clouds while yet reaching for them with swaying branches. Trees must think that they are real, rooted, somebody, and that perhaps the clouds are only tickled water which sometimes blocks their sun. But trees are clouds too, of green leaves—clouds that only move a little. Trees grow and change and dissipate like their airborne cousins.
And what am I but a cloud of thoughts and feelings and aspirations? Don’t I put out tentative mists here and there? Don’t I occasionally appear to other people as a ridiculous shape of thoughts without my intending to? Don’t I drift toward the north when I feel the breezes of love and the warmth of compassion?
If clouds are beings and beings are clouds, are we not all well advised to drift—to feel the wind tucking us in here and plucking us out there? Are we such rock-hard bodily lumps as we imagine?
Drift, let me. Sing to the sky, will I. one in many, are we. Let us breathe the breeze and find therein our toots in the spirit.
I close the curtain now, feeling broader, fresher. The act is over. Applause is sweeping through the trees.
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Touch Me is a soliloquy(独白)composed by Hank Miller, about the Vietnam (越南)Veterans(退伍军人) Memorial in Washington, D.C. also known as “The Wall”.
Touch me. Don’t be afraid. I can’t hurt you. Go ahead and touch my smooth surface. Feel the cold, glass-like smoothness and the crevices(裂缝) and lines that make me what I am. Use both hands if you wish. We are more similar than you dare to believe.
Touch my face. Yes, I have a face like yours. It has weathered(饱经风霜的) the centuries as yours has the years. My face portrays my evolution. Yours, the birth and death of a generation. My face has aged like yours as we have endured together the testimony(证据) of earth elements.
I have eyes like yours. My inscriptions(碑铭) stare out at you as I search for the meaning of why we are here. I look into your eyes and see who you are. Who am I? I was formed millions of years past and now you see the results of my evolution.
I can feel your hands and the sweat from your palms flow into the countless combination of the letters that make me. I know you. I have known you since I was able to breathe in the air as my smoothness began to take shape and my color matured along with natural flaws. You have known me since the days when you came to take me from my mother.
You cannot hear me. I am static(静态的) and unmoving. But, I can hear your murmurs(低语) and your cries of pain and sadness. Your sons and daughters ask why? There are no answers. I am very old. I have seen everything and I am none the wiser for the pain and suffering and I have witnessed since I rose from the bowels of the earth. I have witnessed the conflict, the death, the civilizations, and the societies that have come before you. Yet I remain mystified about this day.
I feel sad yet alive with a purpose. I have come to know those who are now an integral part of the reason for my being here at this place and time. That purpose has become apparent as I stand before you on this day while your brethren (同胞)gather to witness my reflections and the changes of light that mirror your soul.
I am a reflection of you…
I am all of you…
I am your spirit..
I am The Wall.
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