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麦田里的守望者经典语录英文版
假如给我三天光明 海伦·凯特
啊，如果我有三天视力的话，我该看些什么东西呢？
第一天，我要看到那些好心的、温和的、友好的、使我的生活变得有价值的人们。首先，我想长时间地凝视着我亲爱的教师安妮·莎莉文·麦西夫人的脸，当我还在孩稚时，她就来到我家，是她给我打开了外部世界。我不仅要看她的脸部的轮廓，为了将她牢牢地放进我的记忆，还要仔细研究那张脸，并从中找出同情的温柔和耐心的生动的形迹，她就是靠温柔与耐心来完成教育我的困难任务。我要从她的眼睛里看出那使她能坚定地面对困难的坚强毅力和她那经常向我显示出的对于人类的同情心。
第一天将是一个紧张的日子。我要将我的所有亲爱的朋友们都叫来，好好端详他们的面孔，将体现他们内在美的外貌深深地印在我的心上。我还要看一个婴儿的面孔，这样我就能看到一种有生气的、天真无邪的美，它是一种没有经历过生活斗争的美。
我还要看看我那群忠诚的、令人信赖的狗的眼睛——那沉着而机警的小斯科第、达基和那高大健壮而懂事的大戴恩、海尔加，它们的热情、温柔而淘气的友谊使我感到温暖。
在那紧张的第一天里，我还要仔细观察我家里那些简朴小巧的东西。我要看看脚下地毯的艳丽色彩，墙壁上的图画和那些把一所房屋改变成家的熟悉的小东西。我要用虔敬的目光凝视我所读过的那些凸字书，不过这眼光将更加急于看到那些供有视力的人读的印刷书。因为在我生活的漫长黑夜里，我读过的书以及别人读给我听的书，已经变成一座伟大光明的灯塔，向我揭示出人类生活和人类精神的最深泉源。
在能看见东西的第一天下午，我将在森林里作一次长时间的漫步，让自己的眼睛陶醉在自然界的美色里，在这有限的几小时内我要如醉如痴地欣赏那永远向有视力的人敞开的壮丽奇景。结束短暂的森林之旅，回来的路上可能经过一个农场，这样我便能看到耐心的马匹犁田的情景（或许我只能看到拖拉机了！）和那些以土地为生的人的宁静满足的生活。我还要为绚丽夺目而又辉煌壮观的落日祈祷。
当夜幕降临，我能看到人造光明，而体验到双重的喜悦。这是人类的天才在大自然规定为黑夜的时候，为扩大自己的视力而发明创造的。
在能看见东西的第一天夜里，我会无法入睡，脑诲里尽翻腾着对白天的回忆。
翌日——也就是我能看见东西的第二天，我将伴着曙色起床，去看一的阳黑夜变成白天的激动人心的奇观。我将怀着敬畏的心情去观赏那光色的变幻莫测，正是在这变幻中太阳唤醒了沉睡的大地。
我要把这一天用来对整个世界，从古到今，作匆匆的一瞥。我想看看人类所走过的艰难曲折的道路，看看历代的兴衰和沧桑之变。这么多的东西怎能压缩在一天之内看完呢？当然，这只能参观博物馆了。我经常到纽约自然历史博物馆去，无数次地用手抚摸过那里展出的物品，我多么渴望能用自己的眼睛看一看这经过缩写的地球的历史，以及陈列在那里的地球上的居民的——各种动物和被天然环境描绘成不同肤色的人种；看看恐龙的巨大骨架和早在人类出现以前就漫游在地球上的柱牙象，当时的人类靠自己矮小的身躯和发达的大脑去征服动物的王国；看看那表现动物和人类进化过程的逼真画面，和人类用来为自己在这个星球上建造安全居处的那些工民一还有许许多多自然历史的其他方面的东西。
我不知道本文读者中究竟有多少人曾仔细观察过在那个激动人心的博物馆里展出的那些栩栩如生的展品的全貌。当然不是人人都有这样的机会。不过我敢断言，许多人有这种机会却没有很好地利用。那里实在是一个使用眼睛的地方。你们有视力的人可以在那里度过无数个大有所获的日子，而我，在想象中能看东西的短短的三天里，对此只能作匆匆的一瞥使得离去。
我的下一站将是大都会艺术博物馆。正像自然历史博物馆揭示了世界的物质方面那样，大都会艺术博物馆将展现出人类精神的无数个侧面。贯穿人类历史的那种对于艺术表现形式的强烈要求几乎和人类对于食物、住房、生育的要求同样强烈。在这里，在大都会博物馆的巨型大厅里，当我们观看埃及、希腊、罗马的艺术时就看到了这些国家的精神面貌。通过我的双手，我熟悉古埃及男女诸神的雕像，感觉得出复制的帕特农神庙的正中门振，辨别得出进攻中的雅典武士的优美动作。阿波罗、维纳斯以及萨莫特雷斯岛的胜利女神雕像都是我指尖的朋友。荷马那多瘤而又留着长须的相貌对我来说尤为亲切，因为他了解盲人。
我的手在罗马以及晚期那些栩栩如生的大理石雕塑上停留过，在米开朗基罗那激动人心的英雄摩西石膏像上抚摸过，我了解罗丹的才能，对哥特人木刻的虔诚精神感到敬畏。我能理解这些用手触摸过的艺术品的意义，然而那些只能看不能摸的东西，我只能猜测那一直躲避着我的美。我能欣赏希腊花瓶简朴的线条，然而对它那带有图案的装饰我却毫无所识。
就这么着，在我看见东西的第二天，我要设法通过艺术去探索人类的灵魂。我从手的触摸里了解的东西，现在可以用眼睛来看了。整个宏伟的绘画世界将向我敞开，从带有宁静的宗教虔诚的意大利原始艺术一直到具有狂热想象的现代派艺术。找要细细观察拉斐尔、列奥纳多·达·芬奇、提香、伦勃朗的油画，也想让眼睛享受一下委罗涅塞艳丽的色彩，研究一下艾尔·格里柯的奥秘，并从柯罗的风景画里捕捉到新的想象。啊，这么多世纪以来的艺术为你们有视力的人提供了如此绚丽的美和如此深广的意义！
凭着对这艺术圣殿的短暂访问，我将无法把那向你们敞开的伟大艺术世界每个细部都看清楚，我只能得到一个表面的印象。艺术家们告诉我，任何人如果想正确地和深刻地评价艺术，就必须训练自己的眼睛，他得从品评线条、构图、形式和色彩的经验中去学匀。如果我的眼睛管用的话，我将会多么愉快地去着手这件令人心醉的研究工作！然而有人告诉我，对于你们许多有视力的人来说，艺术的世界是一个沉沉的黑夜，是一个无法探索和难以找到光明的世界。
我怀着无可奈何的心清，勉强离开大都会博物馆，离开那藏着发掘美的钥匙的所在——那是一种被忽略了的美啊。然而有视力的人并不需要从大都会博物馆里去找到发掘美的钥匙。它在较小的博物馆里，甚至在那些小图书馆书架上的书本里也能找到。而我，在想象中能看见东西的有限时间里，将选择这样一个地方，在那里，发掘美的钥匙能在最短的时间内打开最伟大的宝库。
我将在戏院或电影院度过这能看见东西的第二天的夜晚。我目前也经常出席各种类型的表演，可剧情却得让一位陪同者在我手上拼写。我多么想用自己的眼睛看一看哈姆莱特那迷人的形象和在穿五光十色的伊丽莎白式服装的人物中间来来去去的福斯泰夫。我多么想模仿优雅的哈姆莱特的每一个动作和健壮的福斯泰夫高视阔步的一举一动。由于我只能看一场戏，这将使我处于进退两难的境地，因为我想看的戏实在太多了。你们有视力的人想看什么都行，不过我怀疑你们之中究竟有多少人在全神贯注于一场戏、一幕电影或别的景象的时候，会意识到并感激那让你们享受其色彩、优美和动作的视力的奇迹呢？
除了用手触摸的有限范围内，我无法享受有节奏感的动作的美。尽管我知道节奏欢快的奥妙，因为我经常从地板的颤动中去辨别音乐的拍节，然而我也只能朦胧地想象巴甫洛娃的魁力。我想象得出那富于节奏感的姿势，肯定是世间最赏心说目的奇景。从用手指循着大理石雕像线条的触摸里我能推测出这一点。如果静止的美已是那么可爱的话，那么看到运动中的美肯定更令人振奋和激动。
我最深切的回忆之一是当约瑟夫·杰斐逊在排练可爱的瑞普·凡·温克尔，做着动作、讲着台词的时候，让我摸了他的脸和手。对戏剧的天地我就只有这么一点贫乏的接触，也将永远不会忘记那一时刻的欢乐。啊，我肯定还遗漏了许多东西。我多么羡慕你们有视力的人，能通过戏剧表演看动作和听台词而获得更多的享受。如果我能看戏，哪怕只看一场也行，我将弄明白我读过或通过手语字母的表达而进入我的脑海的一百场戏的情节。
这样，通过我想象中能看见东西的第二天的夜晚，戏剧文学中的许多高大形象将争先恐后地出现在我的眼前。
下一天的早晨，怀着发现新的欢乐的渴望，我将再次去迎接那初升的旭日，因为我深信，那些有眼睛能真正看到东西的人肯定会发现，每个黎明都会展现出千姿万态、变幻无穷的美。
根据我想象中的奇迹的期限，这是我能看见东西的第三天，也是最后一天。我没有时间去悔恨或渴望，要看的东西实在太多了。我把第一天给了我的朋友，给了那些有生命和没有生命的东西，第二天我看到人类和自然的历史面目。今天我要在现实世界里，在从事日常生活的人们中间度过平凡的一天。除了纽约你还能在别的什么地方发现人们这么多的活动和这样纷繁的情景呢？于是这城市成了我选择的目标。
我从长岛森林山，我的恬静的乡间小屋出发。这里，在绿草坪、树木、鲜花的包围中，是一片整洁、小巧的房屋，到处充满妇女儿童谈笑奔走的欢乐，真是城市劳动者的安静的休息之所。当我乘车穿过横跨东河的钢带式桥梁时，我又开了眼界，看到人类的巧夺天工和力大无穷。河上千帆竞发、百舸争流。如果我从前曾有过一段未盲的岁月，我将用许多时间来观赏河上的热闹风光。
举目前望，面前耸立着奇异的纽约塔，这城市仿佛是从神话故事的书页中跳出来似的。这是多么令人敬畏的奇景啊！那些灿烂夺目的尖塔，那些用钢铁和石块筑起的巨大堤岸，就像神为自己修造的一样。这幅富有生气的画卷是千百万人每日生活的一部分，我不知道究竟有多少人愿意对它多看一眼，恐怕是很少、很少。人们的眼睛之所以看不见这壮美的奇观，是因为这景象对他们来说太熟悉了。
我匆匆忙忙登上那些大型建筑之一——帝国大厦地顶层，不久之前我在这里通过秘书地眼睛“看到”了脚下的城市。我急于要把想象力何真实感作一次比较。我相信在我面前展开的这幅画卷决不会使我感到失望，因为对我来说它将是另一个世界的景象。
现在我开始周游这个城市。首先我站在热闹的一角，仅仅看看来往的人群，想从观察中去了解他们生活中的一些东西。看到微笑。我感到欣慰；看到果断，我感到骄傲；看到疾苦，我产生怜归我漫游到第五大街，让视野从聚精会神的注视里解放出来，以便不去留意特殊的事物而只看一看那瞬息万变的色彩。我相信那穿敢在人群中的妇女装束的色彩，肯定是我永看不厌的灿烂奇观。不过，假如我的眼睛管用的话，或许我也会像大多数妇女一样，过多地注重个别的服装的风格和剪裁式样而忽略成群的色彩的壮美。我还确信我会变成一个在橱窗前溜达的常客，看着那多姿多彩、五光十色的陈列品，一定感到赏心悦目。
我从第五大街开始游览整个城市——我要到花园大街去，到贫民区去，到工厂去，到孩子们玩耍的公园去。通过对外国居民的访问，我作了一次不离本土的异国旅行。对于欢乐和悲哀，我总是睁大眼睛去关心，以便能深刻探索和进一步了解人们是如何工作和生活的。我的心里充满了对人和物的憧憬，我不会轻易放过任何一个细小的东西，力求捕捉和把握所目击的每一件事物。有些场面是令如快的，让你内心喜悦，可有些情景却使你感到悲哀和忧郁。对后者我也不会闭上眼睛，因为它们毕竟也是生活的一部分，对它们闹上眼睛就等于紧锁心灵，禁锢思想。
我能看见东西的第三天就要结束了，或许我应该把这剩下的几小时用在许多重要的探索和追求上，可是我怕在这最后一天夜晚，我还会再次跑到剧院去看一出狂喜的滑稽戏，以便能欣赏人类精神世界里喜剧的泛音。
“到午夜，我从盲人痛苦中得到的暂时解脱就要终结了，永久的黑夜将重新笼罩我周围。当然我在那短暂的三天时间里，不可能看完我要看的全部事物，只有当黑暗重新降临时，我才会感到我没有看到的东西实在太多了。不过我脑海中会塞满那美妙的回忆，以至指本没时间去懊悔。今后无论摸到任何东西，它都会给我带来那原物是什么形状的鲜明回忆。
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麦田里的守望者经典语句英文版
J.D.塞林格
塞林格
J.D.塞林格
作者： 塞林格
1．记住该记住的，忘记该忘记的。改变能改变的，接受不能改变的 Remember what should be remembered, and forget what should be forgotten.Alter what is changeable, and accept what is mutable. 2．能冲刷一切的除了眼泪，就是时间，以时间来推移感情，时间越长，冲突越淡，仿佛不断稀释的茶 Apart from tears, only time could wear everything away. While feeling is being processed by time, conflicts would be reconciled as time goes by, just like a cup of tea that is being continuously diluted. 3．怨言是上天得至人类最大的供物，也是人类祷告中最真诚的部分 Complaints are the greatest offerings that God obtains from human beings, as well as the most faithful prayers human beings might utter to God. 4．智慧的代价是矛盾。这是人生对人生观开的玩笑。 Wisdom appears in contradiction to itself, which is a trick life plays on philosophy of life. 5．世上的姑娘总以为自己是骄傲的公主（除了少数极丑和少数极聪明的姑娘例外） Girls always look on themselves as proud princesses, with the exception of a small number of either extremely ugly or exceedingly smart ones. 6．如果敌人让你生气，那说明你还没有胜他的把握 It can be inferred that you lack confidence in a victory over your rivals from the fact that you’re irritable against them. 7．如果朋友让你生气，那说明你仍然在意他的友情 From that you would get angry with your friends, we can conclude you still care about the friendship between you. 8．也许有些人很可恶，有些人很卑鄙。而当我设身为他想象的时候，我才知道：他比我还可怜。所以请原谅所有你见过的人，好人或者坏人 Some may be wicked, and some may be despicable. Only when I put myself in their position did I know they are more miserable than I. So forgive all that you have met, no matter what kind of persons they are. 9．鱼对水说你看不到我的眼泪，因为我在水里．水说我能感觉到你的眼泪，因为你在我心里。 "You couldn't see my tears cause I am in the water." Fish said to water. "But I could feel your tears cause you are in me." Answered water. 10．快乐要有悲伤作陪，雨过应该就有天晴。如果雨后还是雨，如果忧伤之后还是忧伤．请让我们从容面对这离别之后的离别。 微笑地去寻找一个不可能出现的你！ Happiness is accompanied by sorrow, and it would turn sunny after rain as well. If rain remains after rain and sorrow remains after sorrow, please take those farewells easy, and turn to smilingly look for yourself who is never to appear. 11．死亡教会人一切，如同考试之后公布的结果？虽然恍然大悟，但为时晚矣！ Like the outcome after an exam, death makes us aware of anything, That is, it's too late to take a tumble. 12．你出生的时候，你哭着，周围的人笑着；你逝去的时候，你笑着，而周围的人在哭！ When you were born, you're crying but lookers-on were smiling. When you are passing away, you're smiling but lookers-on are crying. 13．男人在结婚前觉得适合自己的女人很少，结婚后觉得适合自己的女人很多 Man might think that few women fit him before his marriage, and contrarily when they get married. 14.于千万人之中，遇见你所遇见的人；于千万年之中，时间的无涯荒野里，没有早一步，也没有晚一步，刚巧赶上了 Among thousands of people, you meet those you've met. Through thousands of years, with the boundlessness of time, you happen to meet them, neither earlier nor a bit too late. 15．每个人都有潜在的能量，只是很容易:被习惯所掩盖，被时间所迷离,被惰性所消磨. Everyone has his inherent ability( power or capacity？) which is easily concealed by habbits, blurred by time, and eroded by laziness( or inertia). 16．人生短短几十年，不要给自己留下了什么遗憾，想笑就笑，想哭就哭，该爱的时候就去爱，无谓压抑自己 Be sure that you have never had any regrets in your life which only lasts for a few decades. Laugh or cry as you like, and it's meaningless to oppress yourself. 17．真正的爱情是不讲究热闹不讲究排场不讲究繁华更不讲究嚎头的 A true love is what doesn't strive for busyness, for extravagance, for luxury, and moreover for hokum. 18．我们确实活得艰难，一要承受种种外部的压力，更要面对自己内心的困惑。在苦苦挣扎中，如果有人向你投以理解的目光，你会感到一种生命的暖意，或许仅有短暂的一瞥，就足以使我感奋不已。 It's true that we have been leading a difficult life, for we need not only to be under various external pressures, but also to be in the face of internal perplexities.You would be affected by the warmth of life if someone gives you a understanding look during your bitter struggle.Even a mere glance would make you moved and inpired.
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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.
by Hellen Keller
以下是全文
假如给我三天光明(海伦·凯勒 Helen Keller)
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 ahs 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 tech 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 friends 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 reposes, 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 the 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 waters of a brook rush thought my open finger. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the page ant 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 color 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 conveniences 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.
Perhaps I can best illustrate by imagining what I should most like to see if I were given the use of my eyes, say, for just three days. And while I am imagining, suppose you, too, 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 on-coming 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 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.
If, by some miracle, I were granted three seeing days, to be followed by a relapse into darkness, I should divide the period into three parts.
The First Day
On the first day, 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 task 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 casual 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 friends 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!
The first day would be a busy one. I should call to me all my dear friends and look long into their faces, imprinting upon my mind the outward evidences of the beauty that is within them. I should let my eyes rest, too, on the face of a baby, so that I could catch a vision of the eager, innocent beauty which precedes the individual's consciousness of the conflicts which life develops.
And I should like to look into the loyal, trusting eyes of my dogs - the grave, canny little Scottie, Darkie, and the stalwart, understanding Great Dane, Helga, whose warm, tender , and playful friendships are so comforting to me.
On that busy first day I should also view the small simple things of my home. I want to see the warm colors in the rugs under my feet, the pictures on the walls, the intimate trifles that transform a house into home. My eyes would rest respectfully on the books in raised type which I have read, but they would be more eagerly interested in the printed books which seeing people can read, for during the long night of my life the books I have read and those which have been read to me have built themselves into a great shining lighthouse, revealing to me the deepest channels of human life and the human spirit.
In the afternoon of that first seeing day. I should take a long walk in the woods and intoxicate my eyes on the beauties of the world of Nature trying desperately to absorb in a few hours the vast splendor which is constantly unfolding itself to those who can see. On the way home from my woodland jaunt my path would lie near a farm so that I might see the patient horses ploughing in the field 9perhaps I should see only a tractor!) and the serene content of men living close to the soil. And I should pray for the glory of a colorful sunset.
When dusk had fallen, I should experience the double delight of being able to see by artificial light which the genius of man has created to extend the power of his sight when Nature decrees darkness.
In the night of that first day of sight, I should not be able to sleep, so full would be my mind of the memories of the day.
The Second Day
The next day - the second day of sight - I should arise with the dawn and see the thrilling miracle by which night is transformed into day. I should behold with awe the magnificent panorama of light with which the sun awakens the sleeping earth.
This day I should devote to a hasty glimpse of the world, past and present. I should want to see the pageant of man's progress, the kaleidoscope of the ages. How can so much be compressed into one day? Through the museums, of course. Often I have visited the New York Museum of Natural History to touch with my hands many of the objects there exhibited, but I have longed to see with my eyes the condensed history of the earth and its inhabitants displayed there - animals and the races of men pictured in their native environment; gigantic carcasses of dinosaurs and mastodons which roamed the earth long before man appeared, with his tiny stature and powerful brain, to conquer the animal kingdom; realistic presentations of the processes of development in animals, in man, and in the implements which man has used to fashion for himself a secure home on this planet; and a thousand and one other aspects of natural history.
I wonder how many readers of this article have viewed this panorama of the face of living things as pictured in that inspiring museum. Many, of course, have not had the opportunity, but I am sure that many who have had the opportunity have not made use of it. there, indeed, is a place to use your eyes. You who see can spend many fruitful days there, but I with my imaginary three days of sight, could only take a hasty glimpse, and pass on.
My next stop would be the Metropolitan Museum of Art, for just as the Museum of Natural History reveals the material aspects of the world, so does the Metropolitan show the myriad facets of the human spirit. Throughout the history of humanity the urge to artistic expression has been almost as powerful as the urge for food, shelter, and procreation. And here , in the vast chambers of the Metropolitan Museum, is unfolded before me the spirit of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, as expressed in their art. I know well through my hands the sculptured gods and goddesses of the ancient Nile-land. I have felt copies of Parthenon friezes, and I have sensed the rhythmic beauty of charging Athenian warriors. Apollos and Venuses and the Winged Victory of Samothrace are friends of my finger tips. The gnarled, bearded features of Homer are dear to me, for he, too, knew blindness.
My hands have lingered upon the living marble of roman sculpture as well as that of later generations. I have passed my hands over a plaster cast of Michelangelo's inspiring and heroic Moses; I have sensed the power of Rodin; I have been awed by the devoted spirit of Gothic wood carving. These arts which can be touched have meaning for me, but even they were meant to be seen rather than felt, and I can only guess at the beauty which remains hidden from me. I can admire the simple lines of a Greek vase, but its figured decorations are lost to me.
So on this, my second day of sight, I should try to probe into the soul of man through this art. The things I knew through touch I should now see. More splendid still, the whole magnificent world of painting would be opened to me, from the Italian Primitives, with their serene religious devotion, to the Moderns, with their feverish visions. I should look deep into the canvases of Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, Rembrandt. I should want to feast my eyes upon the warm colors of Veronese, study the mysteries of E1 Greco, catch a new vision of Nature from Corot. Oh, there is so much rich meaning and beauty in the art of the ages for you who have eyes to see!
Upon my short visit to this temple of art I should not be able to review a fraction of that great world of art which is open to you. I should be able to get only a superficial impression. Artists tell me that for deep and true appreciation of art one must educated the eye. One must learn through experience to weigh the merits of line, of composition, of form and color. If I had eyes, how happily would I embark upon so fascinating a study! Yet I am told that, to many of you who have eyes to see, the world of art is a dark night, unexplored and unilluminated.
It would be with extreme reluctance that I should leave the Metropolitan Museum, which contains the key to beauty -- a beauty so neglected. Seeing persons, however, do not need a metropolitan to find this key to beauty. The same key lies waiting in smaller museums, and in books on the shelves of even small libraries. But naturally, in my limited time of imaginary sight, I should choose the place where the key unlocks the greatest treasures in the shortest time.
The evening of my second day of sight I should spend at a theatre or at the movies. Even now I often attend theatrical performances of all sorts, but the action of the play must be spelled into my hand by a companion. But how I should like to see with my own eyes the fascinating figure of Hamlet, or the gusty Falstaff amid colorful Elizabethan trappings! How I should like to follow each movement of the graceful Hamlet, each strut of the hearty Falstaff! And since I could see only one play, I should be confronted by a many-horned dilemma, for there are scores of plays I should want to see. You who have eyes can see any you like. How many of you, I wonder, when you gaze at a play, a movie, or any spectacle, realize and give thanks for the miracle of sight which enables you to enjoy its color , grace, and movement?
I cannot enjoy the beauty of rhythmic movement except in a sphere restricted to the touch of my hands. I can vision only dimly the grace of a Pavlowa, although I know something of the delight of rhythm, for often I can sense the beat of music as it vibrates through the floor. I can well imagine that cadenced motion must be one of the most pleasing sights in the world. I have been able to gather something of this by tracing with my fingers the lines in sculptured marble; if this static grace can be so lovely, how much more acute must be the thrill of seeing grace in motion.
One of my dearest memories is of the time when Joseph Jefferson allowed me to touch his face and hands as he went through some of the gestures and speeches of his beloved Rip Van Winkle. I was able to catch thus a meager glimpse of the world of drama, and I shall never forget the delight of that moment. But, oh, how much I must miss, and how much pleasure you seeing ones can derive from watching and hearing the interplay of speech and movement in the unfolding of a dramatic performance! If I could see only one play, I should know how to picture in my mind the action of a hundred plays which I have read or had transferred to me through the medium of the manual alphabet.
适合。
因为它的语言难度并不高，至少比《哈利波特》系列简单。而且它是很多美国中学生的必读书。
用来学英文的话只要不被里面主人公说的脏话给带跑偏就好了，除去这一层，它是一本非常真诚感人的小书。
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