有关青春的双语散文

　双语散文:转眼青春的散场

　　青春的字眼慢慢的觉得陌生，年轮总是很轻易的烙下苍老的印记。以为总是长久的东西，其实，就在转神与刹那间便不在身边了。曾经深爱、思念着的人便轻易的变成了曾经熟悉的陌生人。曾经纯真无邪，曾经美丽梦想，随着四季轮回慢慢的散尽……这就是青春，在岁月里的转身，从一个熟悉到另外一个陌生，再从陌生转变到熟悉，直至一场场的青春的帷幕渐渐的落幕。在青春的酸甜苦乐里稚气里的幻想慢慢的褪去。

　　“Youth” seems to be fading away in my life, only leaving me some unforgettable and cherished memories. Something that we used to think would last forever in our lives, had actually vanished in a second before we realized it. Those who we used to deeply love or miss, have now become the most acquainted strangers. Our once pure and beautiful dream, is gradually fading away with time passing by……This is youth, which is indeed an endless cycle from familiarity to strangeness, and from strangeness to familiarity, until the curtain of our youth is closing off little by little, along with our childish fantasies.

　　人就是这样一种奇怪的动物，拥有的时候厌倦，失去回首的时候才酸痛。得到了很多，失去的也不少，只是希望抵达安详的心灵。很喜欢小孩，因为他们有着人类心灵最纯正的东西，他们的人性是最美的。喜欢亲近老人，因为可以感触到他们心灵的平静，脸庞的安详，也许生活对于他们而言就是尽量的用最舒适的方式过完余生。喜欢猫，只因为他们的慵懒而自在，有一种踏实感。

　　Human is such a strange animal that when we mostly did not cherish something until we lost it. We have gained a lot of things, but also lost a lot. What we want is merely getting the peace of mind. We care for children because they are the most pure-minded and kind-hearted among human beings. We are fond of staying with the old, because we can sense their inner peace from their serene faces. Maybe for them, the essence of life is to live it in the most comfortable way they deem. We may also love cats because their relaxation renders us a substantive sense of life.

　　生命里太多的东西太容易的散去与破碎，所以，学会了习惯性的冷漠与淡然，也许，更多的时候我们更愿意相信自己，不愿随便的托付，因为生活里，没有永远的唯一，所有的东西终究有一天都会离我们而去。有时不是世界抛弃了我们，是我们自己先抛弃了世界，因为我们学会了习惯性的否定，习惯性的抵制而让许多的东西擦肩而过。太多的时候，我们自己更愿意相信是生活伤害了我们，而不愿去接受是自己的缺失伤了自己。

　　There are many things in our lives that are easily gone or broken. Therefore, we will gradually learn to become apathetic and indifferent towards everything. Maybe oftentimes, we are inclined to believe in ourselves rather than trust and rely on others, because in our lives, nothing will stay with us eternally and all will be gone one day eventually. Sometimes it is not the world that abandons us, but we who abandon the world. It can be evidenced by the fact that we have learnt to deny something habitually and therefore lost a lot of things. More often than not, we would believe that it is life that hurts us rather than believe that it is our personality flaw that hurts ourselves.

　散文英译汉佳作赏析：我父亲的音乐

　　My Father's Music

　　我父亲的音乐

　　by Wayne Kalyn

　　韦恩凯林

　　I remember the day Dad first lugged the heavy accordion up our front stoop, taxing his small frame. He gathered my mother and me in the living room and opened the case as if it were a treasure chest. "Here it is," he said. "Once you learn to play, it'll stay with you for life."

　　记得有一天，身材瘦小的父亲背着一架沉重的手风琴，费力地走到前门廊。他把妈妈和我叫进厅里，打开了那只盒子，好象那是一个百宝箱似的。“就这个，”他说，“你一旦学会，它将伴随你一生。”

　　If my thin smile didn't match his full-fledged grin, it was because I had prayed for a guitar or a piano. For the next two weeks, the accordion was stored in the hall closet. Then one evening Dad announced that I would start lessons the following week. In disbelief I shot my eyes toward Mom for support. The firm set of her jaw told me I was out of luck.

　　如果说我勉强的微笑与他发自内心的笑容不和谐的话，那是因为我一直想要一把吉他或一架钢琴。随后的两个星期，那架手风琴一直放在大厅的橱子里。一天晚上，爸爸宣布下周我开始上琴课。疑惑中，我把视线急忙投向妈妈求助。她紧绷的下巴告诉我：我倒运了。

　　Spending $300 for an accordion and $5 per lesson was out of character for my father. He was practical always － something he learned growing up on a Pennsylvania farm. Clothes, heat and sometimes even food were scarce.

　　花300元买一架手风琴，每次上课再花3美元，这可不像父亲的作风。他一直是很实际的——这是他在宾夕法尼亚农场成长过程中学来的。那时候，衣服、暖气，有时甚至连食物都短缺。

　　Dad was a supervisor in a company that serviced jet engines. Weekends, he tinkered in the cellar, turning scraps of plywood into a utility cabinet or fixing a broken toy with spare parts. Quiet and shy, he was never more comfortable than when at his workbench.

　　爸爸是一家为喷气式飞机引擎提供服务的公司的主管。周末，他在地下室里修修补补，把胶合板的边角料做成一个实用的小柜子，或者用一些零件把坏了的玩具修好。他不喜张扬，不爱说话。最让他感到舒服的，莫过于在工作台旁边。

　　Only music carried Dad away from his world of tools and projects. On a Sunday drive, he turned the radio on immediately. At red lights, I'd notice his foot tapping in time. He seemed to hang on every note.

　　只有音乐会让爸爸远离他的工具和计划的世界。一个星期天驾车外出，一上车他就打开了收音机。遇到红灯时，我注意到他的脚在打着拍子，似乎能跟得上每一个节拍。

　　Still, I wasn't prepared when, rummaging in a closet, I found a case that looked to me like a tiny guitar's. Opening it, I saw the polished glow of a beautiful violin. "It's your father's," Mom said. "His parents bought it for him. I guess he got too busy on the farm to ever learn to play it." I tried to imagine Dad's rough hands on this delicate instrument － and couldn't.

　　然而，我还是没有思想准备，那是我在橱子里翻找东西时，发现一只像是装小吉它的盒子。打开一看，是一把锃亮的、漂亮的小提琴。“那是你爸爸的，”妈妈说。“他父母给他买的。我想他在农场里太忙了，没有时间学。”我试图想象爸爸粗糙的双手放在这精致的乐器上的情景——无法想象。

　　Shortly after, my lessons began with Mr. Zelli. On my first day, with straps straining my shoulders, I felt clumsy in every way. "How did he do?" my father asked when it was over. "Fine for the first lesson," said Mr. Zelli. Dad glowed with hope.

　　不久，泽利先生开始教我拉手风琴。第一天，手风琴背带压着我的肩膀，我感到浑身不自在。“他学得怎么样？”结束时，父亲问。“第一堂课，这已经很不错。”泽利先生说。爸爸眼中闪着希望的光芒。

　　I was ordered to practice half an hour every day, and every day I tried to get out of it. My future seemed to be outside playing ball, not in the house mastering songs I would soon forget. But my parents hounded me to practice.

　　爸爸命令我每天练半个小时，可每天我都想赖掉。我的将来似乎应在户外打球，而不是在屋内练那些很快就会忘掉的曲子。然而父母不断地督促我练习。

　　Gradually, to my surprise, I was able to string notes together and coordinate my hands to play simple songs. Often, after supper, my father would request a tune or two. As he sat in his easy chair, I would fumble through "Lady of Spain" and "Beer Barrel Polka."

　　渐渐地，让我吃惊的是，我竟然能把几个音符连起来了。手指的协调性也好点了，还能拉出几首简单的曲子。晚饭后，父亲常常会要我拉上一、两首曲子。他躺在安乐椅里，我则笨拙地拉完“西班牙女郎”和“啤酒桶波尔卡”。

　　"Very nice, better than last week," he'd say. Then I would follow into a medley of his favorites, "Red River Valley" and "Home on the Range," and he would drift off to sleep, the newspaper folded on his lap. I took it as a compliment that he could relax under the spell of my playing.

　　他会说，“不错，比上星期好，”然后我会接着拉他喜欢的曲子“红河谷”和“山上的家”。听着听着，他慢慢睡着了，报纸叠在腿上。我把这看作是一种赞扬：他能在我美妙的演奏中放松。

　　One July evening I was giving an almost flawless rendition of "Come Back to Sorrento," and my parents called me to an open window. An elderly neighbor, rarely seen outside her house, was leaning against our car humming dreamily to the tune. When I finished, she smiled broadly and called out, "I remember that song as a child in Italy. Beautiful, just beautiful."

　　七月的一个傍晚，我正在拉“重回索联托”，拉得几乎完美无缺。父母突然把我叫到窗前。一位极少出门、上了年纪的老邻居，正靠在我们的车旁，跟着曲子沉醉地哼唱着。当我拉完时，她咧开嘴笑了，大声说：“小时候在意大利我听到过这首歌曲，我还记得。太棒了，真是棒极了。

　　”Throughout the summer, Mr. Zelli's lessons grew more difficult. It took me a week and a half to master them now. All the while I could hear my buddies outside playing heated games of stickball. I'd also hear an occasional taunt; "Hey, where's your monkey and cup?"

　　整个夏天，泽利先生的课越来越难。现在要一个半星期才能掌握。练琴时，我总是听到伙伴们在外面玩棍球的嬉闹声。偶尔还听到奚落：“嗨，你的猴子和奖杯哪里去了？

　　”Such humiliation paled, though, beside the impending fall recital. I would have to play a solo on a local movie theater's stage. I wanted to skip the whole thing. Emotions boiled over in the car one Sunday afternoon. "I don't want to play a solo." I said. "You have to," replied my father.

　　不过，这种羞辱与即将来临的秋季演奏会相比，算不得什么。我得在当地一家影剧院舞台上独奏一曲。我想逃避这一切。一个星期天的下午，不满的情绪终于在车上爆发了。“我不想独奏，”我说。“你必须去，”父亲说。

　　"Why?" I shouted. "Because you didn't get to play your violin when you were a kid? Why should I have to play this stupid instrument when you never had to play yours?"Dad pulled the car over and pointed at me. "Because you can bring people joy. You can touch their hearts. That's a gift I won't let you throw away." He added softly, "Someday you'll have the chance I never had: you'll play beautiful music for your family. And you'll understand why you've worked so hard."

　　“为什么？”我叫了起来。“就因为你小时候没能拉上小提琴？你从来不用拉琴，我为什么必须拉那笨重的玩意？”爸爸把车开到路边，手指着我。“因为你能给人们带来快乐。你能拨动他们的心弦。我不会让你放弃这份才能。”爸爸又心平气和地说：“有一天你会有我从未有过的机会：你能为你的全家弹奏美妙的音乐。那时你会明白，如此努力到底是为什么。”

　　I was speechless. I had rarely heard Dad speak with such feeling about anything, much less the accordion. From then on, I practiced without my parents’ making me.

　　我不吱声了。我很少听到爸爸如此语重心长地跟我谈事情，更不用说是为了拉手风琴的事。从那以后，我练琴再也不用父母盯着。

　　The evening of the concert Mom wore glittery earrings and more makeup than I could remember. Dad got out of work early, put on a suit and tie, and slicked down his hair with Vitalis. They were ready an hour early, so we sat in the living room chatting nervously. I got the unspoken message that playing this one song was a dream come true for them.

　　音乐会那天晚上，妈妈戴上了亮闪闪的耳环，精心打扮一番；爸爸也早早下班回家，穿上西装，系上领带，头上抹了瓦特里斯，油亮亮的。他们提前一个小时就准备好了，我们就坐在厅里，紧张地谈论着。我感觉到，上台演奏这首曲子是他们要实现的一个梦想。

　　At the theater nervousness overtook me as I realized how much I wanted to make my parents proud. Finally, it was my turn. I walked to the lone chair on stage and performed "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" without a mistake. The applause spilled out, with a few hands still clapping after others had stopped. I was lightheaded, glad my ordeal was over.

　　在剧场里，当我意识到我是多么想让父母感到骄傲时，我极为紧张。最后，终于轮到我了。我走向舞台中央的那张椅子，演奏了一曲“今晚你孤独吗？”，一个音符也没拉错。顿时，掌声四起，难以停息。我 头有点晕晕的，庆幸我的苦难终于结束。

　　After the concert Mom and Dad came backstage. The way they walked － heads high, faces flushed － I knew they were pleased. My mother gave me a big hug. Dad slipped an arm around me and held me close. "You were just great," he said. Then he shook my hand and was slow to let it go.

　　音乐会后，爸妈来到后台。他们走路的样子，昂着头，精神焕发--我知道他们很开心。妈妈紧紧地抱住我。爸爸伸出一只手臂，牢牢地搂住我：“你太棒了。”说完，他使劲地握着我的手，不愿松开。

　　As the years went by, the accordion drifted to the background of my life. Dad asked me to play at family occasions, but the lessons stopped. When I went to college, the accordion stayed behind in the hall closet next to my father's violin.

　　随着岁月的流逝，那架手风琴渐渐退至我生活的幕后。只有在家庭聚会上，爸爸还会让我拉上一曲。但是风琴课不再上了。我上大学时，那架手风琴放进厅里的壁橱，在爸爸的小提琴旁边。

　　A year after my graduation, my parents moved to a house in a nearby town. Dad, at 51, finally owned his own home. On moving day, I didn't have the heart to tell him that he could dispose of the accordion, so I brought it to my own home and put it in the attic.

　　大学毕业后一年，父母搬到附近城镇的一栋房子。爸爸在他五十一岁那年终于拥有了自己的家。搬家那天，我不忍 心告诉他，说他可以处理那架手风琴，于是我把它带回自己家，放在阁楼上。

　　There it remained, a dusty memory, until one afternoon several years later when my two children discovered it by accident. Scott thought it was a secret treasure; Holly thought a ghost lived inside. They were both right.

　　手风琴一直放在那里，成了尘封的记忆。直到几年后的一个下午，我的两个孩子偶然发现了它。斯科特认为这是一件秘密宝藏。霍莉则认为里面住着一个幽灵。他俩都对。

　　When I opened the case, they laughed and said, "Play it, play it." Reluctantly, I strapped on the accordion and played some simple songs. I was surprised my skills hadn't rusted away. Soon the kids were dancing in circles and giggling. Even my wife, Terri, was laughing and clapping to the beat. I was amazed at their unbridled glee.

　　我打开盒子时，他们笑了，叫道“拉一曲，拉一曲。”我不情愿地背上琴带，拉了几只简单的曲子。真没想到，我拉起来还是那么娴熟。很快，孩子们围成圈跳起来，咯咯地笑个不停。甚至连我妻子特丽也笑了，打着拍子。看着他们纵情欢笑，我感到惊异。

　　My father's words came back to me: "Someday you'll have the chance I never had, Then you'll understand." I finally knew what it meant to work hard and sacrifice for others. Dad had been right all along: the most precious gift is to touch the hearts of those you love. Later I phoned Dad to let him know that, at long last, I understood. Fumbling for the right words, I thanked him for the legacy it took almost 30 years to discover. "You're welcome," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

　　我的耳边回响起父亲说过的话：“有一天你会有我从未有过的机会，那时你会明白的。”我终于明白，去努力，去为别人作出牺牲意味着什么。爸爸始终是对的：最珍贵的礼物莫过于打动你所爱的人的心。后来，我给爸爸去电话，告诉他我终于懂了。我笨嘴拙舌地找寻合适的词语，为他给我的宝贵财富表示感谢，这财富我花了差不多三十年才发现。“不用谢，”他激动得说不出话来。

　　Dad never learned to coax sweet sounds from his violin. Yet he was wrong to think he would never play for his family. On that wonderful evening, as my wife and children laughed and danced, they heard my accordion. But it was my father's music.

　　爸爸从未学过从他的小提琴上拉出美妙的声音。但是他以为自己永远不会为家人弹奏音乐，这种想法是错的。那个美妙的夜晚，我的妻子、孩子欢歌笑舞，他们听到的是我的手风琴，但，那却是我父亲的音乐。

　　英译汉散文佳作赏析：什么叫朋友

　　A Faraway Friend is someone you grew up with or went to school with or lived in the same town as until one of you moved away. Without a Faraway Friend, you would never get any mail addressed in handwriting. A Faraway Friend calls late at night, invites you to her wedding, always says she is coming to visit but rarely shows up. An actual visit from a Faraway Friend is a cause for celebration and binges of all kinds.

　　远方的朋友是这样的一个人：和你从小一同长大的，或者是同学，或者和你原本住在同一个镇上，后来你们中的一人搬到了别处。没有一位远方的朋友，你连一封手写的信都收不到。远方的朋友会半夜打来电话，邀请你去参加她的婚礼，她总是说要来看你，却很少露面。要是真的来访，那才叫“不亦乐乎”，各种名目的狂欢可就有了理由。

　　Faraway friends go through phases of intense communication, then maybe out of touch for many months. Either way, the connection is always there. A conversation with your Faraway Friend always helps to put your life in perspective: When you feel you’ve hit a dead end, come to a confusing fork in the road, or gotten lost in some cracker-box subdivision of your life, the advice of the Faraway Friend — who has the big picture, who is so well acquainted with the route that brought you to this place — is indispensable.

　　两个远方的朋友会经历密切交流的阶段，接下来或许几个月都不联系。但无论联系与否，友谊永远不会改变。与远方的朋友一席长谈，总是有助于你更好地认识生活；当你觉得自己走入了死胡同时，当你面对岔路而不知所措时，来自远方朋友的忠告就越发不可或缺，她看得清大局，完全了解你是怎么走到这一步的。

　　Another useful function of the Faraway Friend is to help you remember things from a long time ago, like the name of your seventh-grade history teacher, what was in that really good stir-fry, or exactly what happened that night on the boat with the guys from Florida.

　　远方的朋友还有一个益处，就是能让你记起很久以前的事情，比如七年级历史老师的名字，那盘炒菜里究竟什么东西那么好吃，或者那天晚上在船里和佛罗里达来的男孩子们都干了些什么。

　　Ah, the former friend. A sad thing. At best a wistful memory, at worst a dangerous enemy who is in possession of many of your deepest secrets. But what was it that drove you apart? A misunderstanding, a betrayed confidence, an underpaid loan, an ill-conceived flirtation. A poor choice of spouse can do in a friendship just like that. Going into business together can be a serious mistake. Time, money, distance, cult religions: all noted friendship killers. You quit doing drugs, you’re not such good friends with your dealer anymore.

　　啊，从前的朋友。让人忧伤的事情。好了的话是一段伤感的记忆，不好的话你有一个危险的敌人，而且对你许多最隐秘的事情都了如指掌。可究竟是什么把你们分开的呢？一个误解，一个被泄露的秘密，一笔没有偿还的借款，一次有欠考虑的轻俏之举。择偶不慎也会使友谊分崩离析；一起做生意会成为一个严重的错误；时间、金钱、距离、宗教狂热，这都是耳熟能详的友谊杀手。如同一旦你戒了毒，你就不再是你供货商的好朋友了。

　　And lest we forget, there are the Friends You Love to Hate. They call at inopportune times. They say stupid things. They butt in, they boss you around, they embarrass you in public. They invite themselves over. They take advantage. You’ve done the best you can, but they need professional help. On top of all this, they love you to death and are convinced they’re your best friends on the planet.

　　而且我们别忘了：还有些朋友，你喜欢恨他们。他们在不适当的时候打电话，他们蠢话连篇，他们胡乱插手你的事情，他们把你指使得团团乱转，他们总是占尽了你的`便宜。你已经尽了最大的努力，可他们需要的其实是专业人员的帮助。这一切之外，他们还爱你爱得要死要活，深信他们是你在这个世界上最好的朋友。

　　So why do you continue to be involved with these people? Why do you tolerate them? On the contrary, the real question is what would you do without them. Without Friends You Love to Hate, there would be nothing to talk about with your other friends. Their problems and their irritating stunts provide a reliable source of conversation for everyone they know.

　　那么你又为什么继续和他们打交道呢？为什么要容忍他们呢？反过来说，真正的问题是：没有他们你行吗？没有这些你宁可去憎恨的朋友，你和你别的朋友也就无话可说了。他们的缺陷和他们恼人的噱头，为他们认识的每一个人都提供了源源不断的谈资。

　　What’s more, Friends You Love to Hate make you feel good about yourself, since you are obviously in so much better shape than they are. No matter what these people do, you will never get rid of them. As much as they need you, you need them, too.

　　此外，他们还能使你对自己感觉良好，因为你的状况显然比他们好得太多。不管他们做出什么事情来，你绝对不愿摆脱他们。你对他们的需要，和他们对你的需要可谓不相上下呢。

　　At the other end of the spectrum are Hero Friends. These people are better than the rest of us, that’s all there is to it. Their career is something you wanted to be when you grew up — painter, forest ranger, tireless doer of good.

　　与此相反的另一个极端则是那些令人艳羡的朋友。他们比我们这些人都更出色，有这一点就够了。他们的事业就是你长大后的追求——画家、护林人，不知疲倦的行善者。

　　They have beautiful homes filled with special handmade things presented to them by villagers in the remote areas they have visited in their extensive travels. Yet they are modest. They never gossip. They are always helping others, especially those who have suffered a death in the family or an illness. You would think people like this would just make you sick, but somehow they don’t.

　　他们拥有漂亮的房子，里面满是手工做的奇特玩意儿，都是他们周游世界时到过的边远地区的村民总送给他们的。可他们依旧待人谦和。他们从不饶舌。他们总是去帮助别人，特别是那些遭受丧失亲人之痛或疾病折磨的人。你会认为这种人只能让你厌倦，可他们偏偏不是那样。

　　A new friend is a tonic unlike any other. Say you meet her at a party. In your bowling league. At a Japanese conversation class, perhaps. Wherever, whenever, there’s that spark of recognition. The first time you talk, you can’t believe how much you have in common. Suddenly, your life story is interesting again, your insights fresh, your opinion valued. Your various shortcomings are as yet completely invisible.

　　新的朋友是一剂无可比拟的良药。也许你是在一次聚会上结识她的，也许是在保龄球俱乐部里，也许是日语会话课上。无论何处，无论何时，只因为擦出了那钟惺惺相惜的火花。你简直无法相信你们有这么多共同点，而且只是第一次交谈。突然间，你的经历又变得有趣了，你的见识不同凡响，你的意见也倍受重视。你各式各样的缺点一时间也完全消失不见了。