英语泛读教程4unit 2 Three Days to See课文和译文

Three Days to See 之迟辟智美创作

by Helen Keller

Helen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher. In the following essay, she discussed how people should value their ability to see.

All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.

Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?

Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of

course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry;” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.

In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.

Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.

The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.

I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.

Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been

accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.

How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.

At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of colour and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to

appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.

If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in “How to Use Your Eyes”. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.

Suppose you set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?

I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.

I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and

companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult tasks of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.

I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that “window of the soul”, the eye. I can only “see” through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.

Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of causal friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap

into the palm of my hand.

How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?

For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And,

incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements.

The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately “eyewitnesses” see. A given event will be “seen” in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.

Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!

(1634 words)

译文

假如我有三天光明

海伦·凯勒

海伦·凯勒自幼就又盲又聋，在老师的帮手下成为一名胜利的讲师、作家及教育家.在这篇文章里，海伦·凯勒讨论了人们应该怎样珍惜自己 的视觉能力

我们年夜家都读过这样一些惊心动魄的故事，故事中的主人公 能活的时间有限而具体，或长达一年，或短至24小时.可是我们总是感兴趣的是，行将死亡的人究竟愿意怎样渡过他的最后时光.固然，我说的是能进行选择的自由人，而不是活动范围受到严格的囚犯.

这些故事启迪我们思考，诱发我们想象，当我们处于 此类情况时，该怎么做呢？作为凡人，我们在最后的时刻会急于想干些什么，体验些什么，联想些什么呢？回首往事时，我们又能领略到何种快慰，何种悔恨呢？

有时我想，如果我们渡过每一天时都假定明天即将去世，这 会是个极好的准则.这样的处世态度会强烈地突出身命的价值.我们会亲切地、暮气蓬勃地、感受强烈地来渡过每一天，而这一切却往往在 日复一日延续的时光与岁月之中消失.固然，有些人会奉行享乐主义“吃喝玩乐”的信条，可是年夜大都人则会因死亡就在眼前而 心灵获得净化.

在故事中，那死神呼唤的主人公通常在最后时刻交上好运而获得拯救 ，但他的价值

观几乎总是发生了变动.他更加珍视生命的意义及其永恒而神圣的价值.人们经常注意到，那些生活在或者曾生活在死亡的阴影下的人 ，对他们所做的每一件事都赋予甜美的色彩.

然而，我们中间年夜大都人则把生命视为理所固然.我们知道，总有一天我们会死去，但通常我们又把那一天想象为遥远的未来.当我们身体健康时，死亡是件难以想象的事，我们几乎不会想到它.岁月无穷，因此我们忙于种种琐事，几乎意识不到我们漠然的生活态度.

我们在使用感觉功能时，恐怕也持同样的冷漠态度.只有聋者才知道听觉的重要，只有盲人才理解视觉给人带来的各种恩赐.这一观点特别适用于那些在成年后才丧失视觉和听觉的人.而那些视觉和听觉从未受到损害的人 ，则很少充沛利用这些神圣的官能.他们的眼睛和耳朵模糊地、漫不经心地、不加欣赏地纳入所有的景象和声音.还是那句老话： 工具丧失后方知珍贵，直到生病时才思健康.

我经常想，如果每个人在刚成年时某个时候能失明或失聪几天，这或许将是件喜事.黑暗将使他更加珍视景象；而寂静则将教他领略声音的欢乐.

我不时考一考我的有视力的朋友，以了解他们 看到了什么.最近一位好朋友来看我，她是在林中溜达了好一会儿才回来的，我问她观察到了些什么.“没什么特另外工具，”她答道.要不是我对类似的反应已习以为常的话，我是会觉得难以置信的.其实，我早已深信：有视力者所见甚少.

我问自己，在林中溜达了一个小时而竟未看到什么值得注意的工具，这怎么可能呢？我这个看不见工具的人，仅凭触摸就发现千百种使我感兴趣的工具.我感觉到树叶精致的对称.我用手爱抚着光滑的白烨树皮，或是粗拙的松树皮.春季里，我满怀希望地触摸树

枝，寻找 一个幼芽——年夜自然经过冬季觉醒重又苏醒的最初征兆.我摸着花朵上那可爱的天鹅绒般的质地，以及它那叠合巧妙的花苞，于是我领略到了某种年夜自然的神奇.偶尔，如果十分幸运的话，我把手轻轻搭在一棵小树上，能感到一只小鸟儿尽情欢歌的颤抖.我非常高兴让清凉的溪水流过我张开的手指.对我来说，那厚密的松针层或茂盛松软的草地比豪华的波斯地毯更惬意；对我来说，四季的幻化多姿宛如一出动听心弦永不尽止的戏剧，它的情节似流水从我指尖缓缓流过.

我的心时时在呼号，渴望能见到所有这一切.如果我单靠触摸就能获得如此多的乐趣，那么通过视觉则能领略到更多美景！可是，那些视觉完好的人显然所见甚少.年夜千世界的五光十色与千姿百态被认为是理所固然.对已获得的不以为然，而对未获得的却期盼不已，这一点或许是人类的特性，可是，非常遗憾，在光明的世界里，天赐的视觉只被看成一种纯真的方便，而不是一种使生活日益完美的手段.

如果我是年夜学校长，我就要开设一门必修课，“如何使用你们的眼睛”.教授应尽力向学生演示，如何做到真正看见那些从他们面前不知不觉溜失落的工具，从而为自己的生活增添快乐.他将尽力唤醒他们那些昏睡懒散的感官.

假定你在开动脑筋研究这一问题：如果你只有三天的视力，你将如何使用你的眼睛呢？如果你知道，当第三天的黑夜来临，太阳就永远不再为你升起，你将如何渡过这贵重的三天呢？你最想让你的目光落在何处？

我固然最愿意看的，是那些在我整个失明岁月里对我已变得亲切的工具.你也会想让你的目光长久地停留在那些对你已变得亲切的工具上，这样你就可以把对它们的记忆带进那悄然而来的漫漫长夜中去.

我要看看那些待我仁慈、温和、友好，从而使我的生活变得有价值的人.首先，我要好好地打量我的恩师安·沙利文·梅丝夫人的脸.她在我年幼的时候就来到我身边，替我翻开了外部世界.我不单想看她的脸形，以便能把它珍藏在我的记忆中，而且还想细细琢磨这脸容，为她那柔情与耐心找到活生生的证据，她正是怀着这种柔情与耐心完成了教育我的艰巨任务.我想在她的眼中看到那种使她坚定空中对各种困难的个性的力量，以及那种经常在我面前流露出来的对全人类的同情心.

我不知道，透过\"心灵之窗\"，即眼睛，来探视一个朋友的心是怎么回事.我只能通过我的指尖来\"看\"一张脸的轮廓.我能探察到欢笑、忧伤和许多其他明显的感情.我根据触摸脸庞的感觉来识别朋友，可是我简直不能靠触摸来描绘出他们的个性.固然，我通过其他手段，通过他们向我表达的思想，通过他们向我暗示出的行动来了解他们的个性.可是，我无法对他们有更深的理解，因为我确信，要到达这种更深的理解，必需要目视他们，观察他们对各种所表达的思想及情况所作的反应，留意他们眼睛里和脸上那种转瞬即逝的反应.

我熟悉和我亲近的朋友，因为长年累月他们向我显露了自己的各个方面；然而对偶尔结识的朋友我只有一种不完全的印象，这种印象是仅凭一次握手，一些言语获得的.我用指尖触摸他们的嘴唇，或是靠他们叩击我的手掌而获取这些言语.

相比之下，你们这些能看见的人，通过观察脸色的微妙变动、肌肉的颤抖和手的摆动来迅速地掌控他人的实质特点，就容易很多， 也令人满意很多.可是，你们可曾想到要用自己的视觉去看透一个朋友或熟人的内在性格？你们这些有视觉的人中的年夜大都，不就是随便 看到一张脸的外部特征就到此为止了吗？

举例来说，你能准确地描绘出五个好朋友的脸形吗？你们中有些人可以，但许多人不成.作为试验，我曾向一些结婚多年的丈夫询问过他们妻子眼睛的颜色，但他们经常暗示

出尴尬困惑，供认不知道.顺便提一下，妻子们老是埋怨丈夫不注意她们的新衣服、新帽子以及房间安插中的变动.

有视觉的人，眼睛很快就习惯了周围的日常事物，因此他实际上只见到一些惊人的、壮观的景象.可是，哪怕是在看最壮观的局面时，他们的眼睛也是懒洋洋的.记录天天都标明“目击者”所见是何等 地禁绝确.某一事件可能被几个目击者从几个分歧角度“看到”；有些人比他人看很多些，但几乎没有人看到他们视野之内的一切.

哦，如果我能有即使仅仅三天的光明，我将能见到几多我想看到的工具啊！