时间:2020-03-12 来源:文都网校 浏览: 分享:


      经典名句-英文:Don't miss the chance. Life is shorter than you think.



      The Tuesday of the armistice dawned warm and rainy. Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía appeared in the kitchen before five o'clock and had his usual black coffee without sugar. "You came into the world on a day like this," úrsula told him. "Everybody was amazed at your open eyes." He did not pay any attention because he was listening to the forming of the troops, the sound of the comets, and the voices of command that were shattering the dawn. Even though after so many years of war they should have sounded familiar to him this time he felt the same weakness in his knees and the same tingling in his skin that he had felt in his youth in the presence of a naked woman. He thought confusedly, finally captive in a trap of nostalgia, that perhaps if he had married her he would have been a man without war and without glory, a nameless artisan, a happy animal. That tardy shudder which had not figured in his forethought made his breakfast bitter. At seven in the morning, when Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez came to fetch him, in the company of a group of rebel officers, he found him more taciturn than ever, more pensive and solitary. úrsula tried to throw a new wrap over his shoulders. "What will the government think," she told him. "They'll figure that you've surrendered because you didn't have anything left to buy a cloak with." But he would not accept it. When he was at the door, he let her put an old felt hat of José Arcadio Buendía's on his head.


      "Aureli-ano," úrsula said to him then, "Promise me that if you find that it's a bad hour for you there that you'll think of your mother."


      He gave her a distant smile, raising his hand with all his fingers extended, and without saying a word he left the house and faced the shouts, insults, and blasphemies that would follow him until he left the town. úrsula put the bar on the door, having decided not to take it down for the rest of her life. "We'll rot in here," she thought. "We'll turn to ashes in this house without men, but we won't give this miserable town the pleasure of seeing us weep." She spent the whole morning looking for a memory of her son in the most hidden corners, but she could find none.


      The ceremony took place fifteen miles from Macon-do in the shade of a gigantic ceiba tree around which the town of Neerlandia would be founded later. The delegates from the government and the party and the commission of the rebels who were laying down their arms were served by a noisy group of novices in white habits who looked like a flock of doves that had been frightened by the rain. Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía arrived on a muddy mule. He had not shaved, more tormented by the pain of the sores than by the great failure of his dreams, for he had reached the end of all hope, beyond glory and the nostalgia of glory. In accordance with his arrangements there was no music, no fireworks, no pealing bells, no shouts of victory, or any other manifestation that might alter the mournful character of the armistice. An itinerant photographer who took the only picture of him that could have been preserved was forced to smash his plates without developing them.


      The ceremony lasted only the time necessary to sign the documents. Around the rustic table placed in the center of a patched circus tent where the delegates sat were the last officers who were faithful to Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía. Before taking the signatures, the personal delegate of the president of the republic tried to read the act of surrender aloud, but Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía was against it. "Let's not waste time on formalities," he said and prepared to sign the papers without reading them. One of his officers then broke the soporific silence of the tent.


      "Colonel," he said, "please do us the favor of not being the first to sign."


      Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía acceded. When the documents went all around the table, in the midst of a silence that was so pure that one could have deciphered the signatures from the scratching of the pen on the paper, the first line was still blank. Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía prepared to fill it.


      "Colonel," another of his officers said, "there's still time for everything to come out right."


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