2021考研英语综合备考资料:英语阅读故事-追风筝的人。每天阅读一小段英语小说,保持语感,熟悉英文的说话方式,有助于英语阅读得到,咱们今天就开始从追风筝的人 开始读起吧,对大家在进行2021考试的时候非常有帮助,更多相关信息,可关注咱们文都考研综合备考频道哦。

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2021考研英语备考阅读:追风筝的人-83

In Afghanistan, _yelda_ is the first night of the month of _Jadi_, the first night of winter, and the longest night of the year. As was the tradition, Hassan and I used to stay up late, our feet tucked under the kursi, while Ali tossed apple skin into the stove and told us ancient tales of sultans and thieves to pass that longest of nights. It was from Ali that I learned the lore of _yelda_, that bedeviled moths flung themselves at candle flames, and wolves climbed mountains looking for the sun. Ali swore that if you ate water melon the night of _yelda_, you wouldn’t get thirsty the coming summer.在阿富汗,雅尔达是回历中嘉帝月的夜,也是冬天的夜,一年之中最 长的夜晚。按照风俗,哈桑和我会熬到深夜,我们把脚藏在火炉桌下面,阿里将苹果皮丢进炉子,给我们讲苏丹和小偷的古老传说,度过漫漫长夜。正是从阿里口中,我得知了雅尔达的故事,知道了飞蛾扑火是因为着魔,还知道狼群爬山是要寻找太阳。阿里发誓说,要是在雅尔达那夜吃到西瓜,翌年夏天就不会口渴。

When I was older, I read in my poetry books that _yelda_ was the starless night tormented lovers kept vigil, enduring the endless dark, waiting for the sun to rise and bring with it their loved one. After I met Soraya Taheri, every night of the week became a _yelda_ for me. And when Sunday mornings came, I rose from bed, Soraya Taheri’s brown-eyed face already in my head. In Baba’s bus, I counted the miles until I’d see her sitting barefoot, arranging cardboard boxes of yellowed encyclopedias, her heels white against the asphalt, silver bracelets jingling around her slender wrists. I’d think of the shadow her hair cast on the ground when it slid off her back and hung down like a velvet curtain. Soraya. Swap Meet Princess. The morning sun to my yelda.稍大一些之后,我从诗书中读到,雅尔达是星光黯淡的夜晚,恋人彻夜难眠,忍受着无边黑暗,等待太阳升起,带来他们的爱人。遇到索拉雅之后那个星期,对我来说,每个夜晚都是雅尔达。等到星期天早晨来临,我从床上起来,索拉雅?塔赫里的脸庞和那双棕色的明眸已然在我脑里。坐在爸爸的巴士里面,我暗暗数着路程,直到看见她赤足坐着,摆弄那些装着发黄的百科全书的纸箱,她的脚踝在柏油路的映衬下分外白皙,柔美的手腕上有银环叮当作响。一头秀发从她背后甩过,像天鹅绒幕布那样垂下来,我望着她的头发投射在地上的影子怔怔出神。索拉雅,我的交易会公主,我的雅尔达的朝阳。

I invented excuses to stroll down the aisle--which Baba acknowledged with a playful smirk--and pass the Taheris’ stand. I would wave at the general, perpetually dressed in his shiny overpressed gray suit, and he would wave back. Sometimes he’d get up from his director’s chair and we’d make small talk about my writing, the war, the day’s bargains. And I’d have to will my eyes not to peel away, not to wander to where Soraya sat reading a paperback. The general and I would say our good-byes and I’d try not to slouch as I walked away.我制造各种各样的借口——爸爸显然知道,但只露出戏谑的微笑——沿着那条过道走下去,经过塔赫里的摊位。我会朝将军招招手,而他,永远穿着那身熨得发亮的灰色套装,会挥手应答。有时他从那张导演椅站起来,我们会稍作交谈,提及我的写作、战争、当天的交易。而我不得不管住自己的眼睛别偷看,别总是瞟向坐在那里读一本平装书的索拉雅。将军和我会彼此告别,而我走开的时候,得强打精神,掩饰自己心中的失望。

Sometimes she sat alone, the general off to some other row to socialize, and I would walk by, pretending not to know her, but dying to. Sometimes she was there with a portly middle-aged woman with pale skin and dyed red hair. I promised myself that I would talk to her before the summer was over, but schools reopened, the leaves reddened, yellowed, and fell, the rains of winter swept in and wakened Baba’s joints, baby leaves sprouted once more, and I still hadn’t had the heart, the dil, to even look her in the eye.有时将军到其他过道去跟人攀交情,留她一人看守摊位,我会走过去,假装不认识她,可是心里想认识她想得要死。有时陪着她的还有个矮胖的中年妇女,染红发,肤色苍白。我暗下决心,在夏天结束之前一定要跟她搭讪,但学校开学了,叶子变红、变黄、掉落,冬天的雨水纷纷洒洒,折磨爸爸的手腕,树枝上吐出新芽,而我依然没有勇气、没有胆量,甚至不敢直望她的眼睛。

The spring quarter ended in late May 1985. I aced all of my general education classes, which was a minor miracle given how I’d sit in lectures and think of the soft hook of Soraya’s nose.春季学期在1985年5月底结束。我所有的课程都得了优,这可是个小小的神迹,因为我人在课堂,心里却总是想着索拉雅柔美而笔挺的鼻子。

Then, one sweltering Sunday that summer, Baba and I were at the flea market, sitting at our booth, fanning our faces with news papers. Despite the sun bearing down like a branding iron, the market was crowded that day and sales had been strong--it was only 12:30 but we’d already made $160. I got up, stretched, and asked Baba if he wanted a Coke. He said he’d love one.然后,某个闷热的夏季星期天,爸爸跟我在跳蚤市场,坐在我们的摊位,用报纸往脸上扇风。尽管阳光像烙铁那样火辣辣,那天市场人满为患,销售相当可观——才到12点半,我们已经赚了160美元。我站起来,伸伸懒腰,问爸爸要不要来杯可口可乐。他说来一杯。

“Be careful, Amir,” he said as I began to walk. “Of what, Baba?”“当心点,阿米尔。”我举步离开时他说。“当心什么,爸爸?”

“I am not an ahmaq, so don’t play stupid with me.”“我不是蠢货,少跟我装蒜。”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”“我不知道你在说什么啊。”

“Remember this,” Baba said, pointing at me, “The man is a Pashtun to the root. He has nang and namoos.” Nang. Namoos. Honor and pride. The tenets of Pashtun men. Especially when it came to the chastity of a wife. Or a daughter.“你要记住,”爸爸指着我说,“那家伙是个纯正的普什图人,他有名誉和尊严。”这是普什图人的信条,尤其是关系到妻子或者女儿的贞节时。

“I’m only going to get us drinks.”“我不过是去给我们买饮料。”

“Just don’t embarrass me, that’s all I ask.”“别让我难看,我就这点要求。”

“I won’t. God, Baba.”“我不会的,天啦,爸爸。”

Baba lit a cigarette and started fanning himself again.爸爸点了根烟,继续扇着风。

I walked toward the concession booth initially, then turned left at the T-shirt stand--where, for $5, you could have the face of Jesus, Elvis, Jim Morrison, or all three, pressed on a white nylon T-shirt. Mariachi music played overhead, and I smelled pickles and grilled meat.起初我朝贩卖处走去,然后在卖衬衫的摊位左转。在那儿,你只消花5块钱,便可以在白色的尼龙衬衫上印上耶稣、猫王或者吉姆?莫里森的头像,或者三个一起印。马里亚奇[1]Mariachi,墨西哥传统音乐乐团,主要使用乐器有小号、曼陀铃、吉他、竖琴以及小提琴等,所演唱歌曲风格通常较为热烈。[1]的音乐在头顶回响,我闻到腌黄瓜和烤肉的味道。

I spotted the Taheris’ gray van two rows from ours, next to a kiosk selling mango-on-a-stick. She was alone, reading. White ankle-length summer dress today. Open-toed sandals. Hair pulled back and crowned with a tulip-shaped bun. I meant to simply walk by again and I thought I had, except suddenly I was standing at the edge of the Taheris’ white tablecloth, staring at Soraya across curling irons and old neckties. She looked up.我看见塔赫里灰色的货车,和我们的车隔着两排,紧挨着一个卖芒果串的小摊。她单身一人,在看书,今天穿着长及脚踝的白色夏装,凉鞋露出脚趾,头发朝后扎,梳成郁金香形状的发髻。我打算跟以前一样只是走过,我以为可以做到,可是突然之间,我发现自己站在塔赫里的白色桌布边上,越过烫发用的铁发夹和旧领带,盯着索拉雅。她抬头。

“Salaam,” I said. “I’m sorry to be mozahem, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”“你好,”我说,“打扰了,对不起。我不是故意打扰你的。”

“Salaam.”“你好。”

“Is General Sahib here today?” I said. My ears were burning. I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eye.“将军大人今天不在吗?”我说。我的耳朵发烧,无法正视她的明眸。

“He went that way,” she said. Pointed to her right. The bracelet slipped down to her elbow, silver against olive.“他去那边了。”她说,指着右边,绿色镶银的手镯从她的胳膊肘上滑落。

“Will you tell him I stopped by to pay my respects?” I said.“你可不可以跟他说,我路过这里,问候他一下。”我说。

“I will.”“可以。”

“Thank you,” I said. “Oh, and my name is Amir. In case you need to know. So you can tell him. That I stopped by. To... pay my respects.”“谢谢你。”我说,“哦,我的名字叫阿米尔。这次你需要知道,才好跟他说。说我路过这里,向他……问好。”

“Yes.”“好的。”

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