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2021考研英语阅读练习资料:追风筝的人-7

时间:2020-04-01 来源:文都网校 浏览: 分享:

      2021考研英语阅读怎么训练自己才能得到提高呢?每天阅读一篇英语文章,保持语感,熟悉英文的说话方式,对大家在进行2021考研英语考试的时候非常有帮助,文都网校考研小编为大家带来今天的阅读练习资料:追风筝的人。一起来看看吧~

    2021考研英语阅读练习资料:追风筝的人-7

      As confided to a neighbor's servant by the garrulous midwife, who had then in turn toldanyone who would listen, Sanaubar had taken one glance at the baby in Ali's arms, seen thecleft lip, and barked a bitter laughter.

      先是爱搬弄是非的接生婆告诉邻居的仆人,那人又到处宣扬,说莎娜芭看了一眼阿里怀中的婴儿,瞥见那兔唇,发出一阵凄厉的笑声。

      "There," she had said. "Now you have your own idiot child to do all your smiling for you!" Shehad refused to even hold Hassan, and just five days later, she was gone.

      “看吧,”她说,“现在你有了这个白痴儿子,他可以替你笑了!”她不愿抱着哈桑,仅仅五天之后,她离开了。

      Baba hired the same nursing woman who had fed me to nurse Hassan. Ali told us she was ablue-eyed Hazara woman from Bamiyan, the city of the giant Buddha statues. "What a sweetsinging voice she had,"he used to say to us.

      爸爸雇佣了那个喂过我的奶妈给哈桑哺乳。阿里跟我们说她是个蓝眼睛的哈扎拉女人,来自巴米扬Bamiyan,阿富汗城市,在喀布尔西北150公里处。,那座城市有巨大的佛陀塑像。“她唱歌的嗓子可甜了!”他常常这么说。

      What did she sing, Hassan and I always asked, though we already knew--Ali had told uscountless times. We just wanted to hear Ali sing.

      她唱什么歌呢?哈桑跟我总是问,虽然我们已经知道--阿里已经告诉过我们无数次了,我们只是想听阿里唱。

      He'd clear his throat and begin:

      他清了清喉咙,放声唱起来:

      "On a high mountain I stood,

      And cried the name of Ali, Lion of God.

      O Ali, Lion of God, King of Men,

      Bring joy to our sorrowful hearts."

      我站在高高的山上

      呼唤阿里的名字,神灵的狮子

      啊~阿里,神灵的狮子,凡人的国王

      给我悲伤的心灵带来喜悦

      Then he would remind us that there was a brotherhood between people who had fed from thesame breast, a kinship that not even time could break.

      然后他会提醒我们,喝过同样的乳汁长大的人就是兄弟,这种亲情连时间也无法拆散。

      Hassan and I fed from the same breasts. We took our first steps on the same lawn in the sameyard. And, under the same roof, we spoke our first words.

      哈桑跟我喝过同样的乳汁。我们在同一个院子里的同一片草坪上迈出第一步。还有,在同一个屋顶下,我们说出第一个词。

      Mine was "Baba".

      His was "Amir". My name.

      我说的是“爸爸”。

      他说的是“阿米尔”。我的名字。

      Looking back on it now, I think the foundation for what happened in the winter of 1975—andall that followed—was already laid in those first words.

      如今回头看来,我认为1975年冬天发生的事情——以及随后所有的事情--早已在这两个字里埋下根源。

      Lore has it my father once wrestled a black bear in Baluchistan with his bare hands. If the storyhad been about anyone else, it would have been dismissed as "laaf", that Afghan tendency toexaggerate--sadly, almost a national affliction; if someone bragged that his son was adoctor, chances were the kid had once passed a biology test in high school. But no one everdoubted the veracity of any story about Baba. And if they did, well, Baba did have those threeparallel scars coursing a jagged path down his back. I have imagined Baba's wrestling matchcountless times, even dreamed about it. And in those dreams, I can never tell Baba from thebear.

      传说我父亲曾经在俾路支Baluchistan,巴基斯坦城市。赤手空拳,和一只黑熊搏斗。如果这是个关于别人的故事,肯定有人会斥之为笑话奇谈。阿富汗人总喜欢将事物夸大,很不幸,这几乎成了这个民族的特性。如果有人吹嘘说他儿子是医生,很可能是那孩子曾经在高中的生物学测验中考了个及格的分数。但凡涉及爸爸的故事,从来没人怀疑它们的真实性。倘使有人质疑,那么,爸爸背上那三道弯弯曲曲的伤痕就是证据。记不清有多少次,我想像着爸爸那次搏击的场面,甚至有时连做梦也梦到了。而在梦中,我分不清哪个是爸爸,哪个是熊。

      It was Rahim Khan who first referred to him as what eventually became Baba's famousnickname, "Toophan agha", or "Mr. Hurricane."It was an apt enough nickname. My father was aforce of nature, a towering Pashtun specimen with a thick beard, a wayward crop of curlybrown hair as unruly as the man himself, hands that looked capable of uprooting a willowtree, and a black glare that would "drop the devil to his knees begging for mercy,?as RahimKhan used to say. At parties, when all six-foot-five of him thundered into the room, attentionshifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun.

      有一次拉辛汗管爸爸叫"飓风先生",这随后变成远近闻名的绰号。这个绰号可是名副其实。爸爸是典型的普什图人,身材高大,孔武有力,留着浓密的小胡子,卷曲的棕色头发甚是好看,跟他本人一样不羁;他双手强壮,似乎能将柳树连根拔起;并且,就像拉辛汗经常说的那样,黑色的眼珠一瞪,会"让魔鬼跪地求饶"。爸爸身高近2米,每当他出席宴会,总是像太阳吸引向日葵那样,把注意力引到自己身上。

      Baba was impossible to ignore, even in his sleep. I used to bury cotton wisps in my ears, pullthe blanket over my head, and still the sounds of Baba's snoring—so much like a growlingtruck engine—penetrated the walls. And my room was across the hall from Baba's bedroom. How my mother ever managed to sleep in the same room as him is a mystery to me. It's onthe long list of things I would have asked my mother if I had ever met her.

      In the late 1960s, when I was five or six, Baba decided to build an orphanage. I heard the storythrough Rahim Khan. He told me Baba had drawn the blueprints himself despite the fact thathe'd had no architectural experience at all. Skeptics had urged him to stop his foolishness andhire an architect. Of course, Baba refused, and everyone shook their heads in dismay at hisobstinate ways. Then Baba succeeded and everyone shook their heads in awe at histriumphant ways. Baba paid for the construction of the two-story orphanage, just off the mainstrip of Jadeh Maywand south of the Kabul River, with his own money. Rahim Khan told meBaba had personally funded the entire project, paying for the engineers, electricians, plumbers, and laborers, not to mention the city officials whose "mustaches needed oiling."

      爸爸即使在睡觉的时候,也是引人注目。我常在耳朵里面塞上棉花球,用毯子盖住头,但爸爸的鼾声宛如轰轰作响的汽车引擎,依然穿墙越壁而来,而我们的房间中间还隔着客厅呢。妈妈如何能跟他睡在同一个房间?我不得而知。要是能见到我的妈妈,我还有一长串问在1960年代晚期,我五六岁的样子,爸爸决定建造一座恤孤院。故事是拉辛汗告诉我的。他说爸爸亲自设计施工图,尽管他根本没有半点建筑经验。人们对此表示怀疑,劝他别犯傻,雇个建筑师得了。当然,爸爸拒绝了,人们大摇其头,对爸爸的顽固表示不解。然而爸爸成功了,人们又开始摇头了,不过这次是带着敬畏,对他成功的法门称赞不已。恤孤院楼高两层,位于喀布尔河南岸,在雅德梅湾大道旁边,所耗资费均由父亲自己支付。拉辛汗说爸爸独力承担了整个工程,工程师、电工、管道工、建筑工,这些人的工钱都是爸爸支付的。城里的官员也抽了油水,他们的“胡子得上点油”。

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