One year ago, I rented a car in Jerusalem to go find a man I never met but who had changed my life. I didn't have a phone number to call to say I was coming. I didn't have an exact address, but I knew his name, Abed, I knew that he lived in a town of 15,000, Kafr Qara, and I knew that, 21 years before, just outside this holy city, he broke my neck.
就在一年前,我在耶路撒冷租了一辆车 去寻找一个我从未谋面 但却改变了我一生的人 我没有他的电话号码 我也不知道他住在哪 但我知道他的名字,Abed 我知道他住在一个有15,000居民的小镇——法卡拉 我还知道,21年前,就在圣城外 是他弄断了我的脖子
And so, on an overcast morning in January, I headed north off in a silver Chevy, to find a man and some peace. The road dropped, and I exited Jerusalem. I then rounded the very bend where his blue truck, heavy with four tons of floor tiles, had borne down with great speed onto the back left corner of the minibus where I sat. I was then 19 years old. I'd grown five inches and done some 20,000 pushups in eight months, and the night before the crash, I delighted in my new body, playing basketball with friends into the wee hours of a May morning. I palmed the ball in my large right hand, and when that hand reached the rim, I felt invincible. I was off in the bus to get the pizza I'd won on the court.
因此,一月里一个阴沉沉的早上,我乘坐一辆银色雪弗兰, 一路向北,去寻找那个人,去寻找内心的平静 记得车祸那天,我正在离开耶路撒冷的路上 突然我的车绕过一个急弯,这时,一辆蓝色卡车 载着四吨重的地砖 风驰电掣地冲着我的左后方就开过来了 风驰电掣地冲着我的左后方就开过来了 那年我才十九岁 八个月就长高了五英寸,还做了大约两万个俯卧撑 就在车祸前的那个晚上 我还对自己的体格洋洋得意 在五月,我跟朋友打篮球能一直打到半夜两三点钟 在五月,我跟朋友打篮球能一直打到半夜两三点钟 我张开右手,一下就能把篮球稳稳抓住, 上篮时我的手还能触到篮筐,我感到骄傲无比,无人能敌 我坐公共汽车是要去取我在球场上赢到的匹萨
I didn't see Abed coming. From my seat, I was looking up at a stone town on a hilltop, bright in the noontime sun, when from behind there was a great bang, as loud and violent as a bomb. My head snapped back over my red seat, my eardrum blew, my shoes flew off. I flew too, my head bobbing on broken bones, and when I landed, I was a quadriplegic. Over the coming months, I learned to breathe on my own, then to sit and to stand and to walk. But my body was now divided vertically. I was a hemiplegic, and back home in New York, I used a wheelchair for four years, all through college.
我没看到Abed的车, 当时我正坐在座位上,仰头看一个小山上石头建的小镇 小镇在正午阳光的照耀下闪闪发光 忽然,我身后砰的一声巨响 就像炸弹爆炸了一样 我的脑袋一下子撞到了身后的红色座椅 我的鼓膜破了,我的鞋子飞了出去 我自己也飞了出去,骨头都碎了,脑袋没了支撑,摇摇晃晃的 当我重重地摔到地上时,我的四肢都瘫痪了 在接下来的几周里,我学着自己喘气,自己坐,自己站,自己走路 在接下来的几周里,我学着自己喘气,自己坐,自己站,自己走路 但是我连站都站不起来 我彻底瘫痪了,回到了纽约的家 大学四年,我一直在轮椅上度过
College ended and I returned to Jerusalem for a year. There, I rose from my chair for good, I leaned on my cane, and I looked back, finding all, from my fellow passengers in the bus to photographs of the crash. And when I saw this photograph -- I didn't see a bloody and unmoving body. I saw the healthy bulk of a left deltoid, and I mourned that it was lost, mourned all I had not yet done, but was now impossible.
读完大学,我又回到耶路撒冷待了一年 在那里我逐渐康复 我依靠手杖能从轮椅上站起来 我回顾往事,试图寻找一切跟车祸有关的东西, 包括那天与我同车的其他乘客以及关于那次车祸的照片 当我看到这张照片时 我没有看到一个血淋淋的,不能活动的身体 我只看到了一块健康的左三角肌 但我倍感痛心,因为它已经不存在了 我更痛心我没有做一些 现在看来已经不可能做到的事
It was then I read the testimony that Abed gave the morning after the crash, of driving down the right lane of a highway toward Jerusalem. Reading his words, I welled with anger. It was the first time I'd felt anger toward this man, and it came from magical thinking. On this xeroxed piece of paper, the crash had not yet happened. Abed could still turn his wheel left so that I would see him whoosh by out my window. and I would remain whole. "Be careful, Abed, look out. Slow down." But Abed did not slow, and on that xeroxed piece of paper, my neck again broke, and again, I was left without anger.
就在那时我看到了Abed提供的口供 提供时间是车祸第二天上午 车祸地点是那条通往耶路撒冷的右边行车道 读完他的口供,我异常愤怒 这是我第一次对这个肇事者感到愤怒 他的证词完全来自他的臆想 证词是这么写的 在车祸发生之前 Abed能理所当然地左转 而我也应该能看到他从车窗前飞快地闪过 如果这样的话,我就可以毫发无损 “小心点,Abed, 小心。慢点开” 但是他丝毫没有减速 在那份证词上,我的脖子又一次断了 又一次,我毫不愤怒地离开了
I decided to find Abed, and when I finally did, he responded to my Hebrew "Hello" which such nonchalance, it seemed he'd been awaiting my phone call. And maybe he had. I didn't mention to Abed his prior driving record -- 27 violations by the age of 25, the last, his not shifting his truck into a low gear on that May day -- and I didn't mention my prior record -- the quadriplegia and the catheters, the insecurity and the loss -- and when Abed went on about how hurt he was in the crash, I didn't say that I knew from the police report that he'd escaped serious injury. I said I wanted to meet. Abed said that I should call back in a few weeks, and when I did and a recording told me that his number was disconnected, I let Abed and the crash go.
我决定去找Abed 当我最终联系到他时 他对我这个犹太人毫不关心的打了声招呼 看起来他好像一直在等我的电话 或许他就是在等我的电话 我没有提他以前的驾驶记录-- 到25岁时已有27次违规 最后那一次违规,他的卡车没有换挡减速,最终导致了那场发生在五月份的车祸 我也没有提我以前的痛苦遭遇: 四肢瘫痪、导尿管故障等等 以及这些问题带给我的不安和损失 当Abed为他的伤势喋喋不休时 我没有说我已经从警方的报告里知道 他早已脱离生命危险 我说我想见见他 Abed让我过几周再跟他联系 可是当我再次打电话时,电话提示我 这个号码无法接通 我只能让Abed和这场车祸随风而去
Many years passed. I walked with my cane and my ankle brace and a backpack on trips in six continents. I pitched overhand in a weekly softball game that I started in Central Park, and home in New York, I became a journalist and an author, typing hundreds of thousands of words with one finger. A friend pointed out to me that all of my big stories mirrored my own, each centering on a life that had changed in an instant, owing, if not to a crash, then to an inheritance, a swing of the bat, a click of the shutter, an arrest. Each of us had a before and an after. I'd been working through my lot after all.
许多年过去了 我依靠手杖,踝固定器和双肩包 行走于六大洲 我在中央公园参加体育活动——每周一次的上手发垒球活动 我在中央公园参加体育活动——每周一次的上手发垒球活动 在纽约,我成为了一名记者和作家 用仅能动的一根手指敲出成百上千个字 一个朋友跟我说,我经历过的种种起伏 是我自己的真实写照,每次经历都在一瞬间 改变了我的生活 因此,如果不是那场车祸,我就不是现在的我 我不会去学棒球,去当记者,当作家 没有过去就没有现在和未来。 我毕竟已经走出创伤
Still, Abed was far from my mind, when last year, I returned to Israel to write of the crash, and the book I then wrote, "Half-Life," was nearly complete when I recognized that I still wanted to meet Abed. And finally, I understood why: to hear this man say two words: "I'm sorry." People apologize for less.
我还是逐渐淡忘了Abed ,但就在去年 我返回以色列去写一本有关这次车祸的书 书名就叫《Half-Life》(《半生》) 当书快要写完,我发现 我仍然想去见见Abed 我终于知道自己为什么这么“固执”: 我只是想听这个人对我说三个字:“对不起” 因为人们要为自己的过失道歉
And so I got a cop to confirm that Abed still lived somewhere in the same town, and I was now driving to it with a potted yellow rose in the back seat, when suddenly flowers seemed a ridiculous offering. But what to get the man who broke your fucking neck?
因此,我找到了一名警察,确认Abed仍然在世 还住在他原来住的地方 于是,我开车去找他,还准备了一盆黄玫瑰放在车后座 我突然觉得这些花看起来似乎是一份很可笑的礼物 但是,你要拿什么去见一个弄断你脖子的人?
(Laughter)
(笑声)
I pulled into the town of Abu Ghosh, and bought a brick of Turkish delight: pistachios glued in rosewater. Better. Back on Highway 1, I envisioned what awaited. Abed would hug me. Abed would spit at me. Abed would say, "I'm sorry." I then began to wonder, as I had many times before, how my life would have been different had this man not injured me, had my genes been fed a different helping of experience. Who was I? Was I who I had been before the crash, before this road divided my life like the spine of an open book? Was I what had been done to me? Were all of us the results of things done to us, done for us, the infidelity of a parent or spouse, money inherited? Were we instead our bodies, their inborn endowments and deficits? It seemed that we could be nothing more than genes and experience, but how to tease out the one from the other? As Yeats put that same universal question, "O body swayed to music, o brightening glance, how can we know the dancer from the dance?"
我开到了Abu Ghosh镇 买了一块土耳其软糖 和有玫瑰香味的开心果(伊拉克产的一种干果)。这比花要好。 回到1号高速公路,我想象会有什么事情在前方等待着我 Abed可能会拥抱我,Abed可能会朝我吐口水 Abed也可能会说,“对不起” 我又开始设想,就像我以前想过很多次一样 如果这个人没有伤到我 我的人生会有什么不同 如果我有一次完全不同的经历 我又会变成什么样子? 在那条路上发生的一切,一下子把我的人生翻到了“下一页”, 我还是那个没出事故前之前的我吗? 就因为经历的那些事,我才成了现在这样吗? 父母或者配偶的不忠、财产继承, 这些发生过的事情, 塑造了现在的我们吗? 或者,我们现在的样子是由自己的天赋和不足决定的? 我们似乎无法逾越遗传和经验的范围 但是如何将一个因素从另一个因素中梳理出来? 叶芝(爱尔兰诗人及剧作家)提过相同的问题 “随音乐摇曳的身体啊,灼亮的眼神 我们如何区分舞者和舞蹈?”
I'd been driving for an hour when I looked in my rear view mirror and saw my own brightening glance. The light my eyes had carried for as long as they had been blue. The predispositions and impulses that had propelled me as a toddler to try and slip over a boat into a Chicago lake, that had propelled me as a teen to jump into wild Cape Cod Bay after a hurricane. But I also saw in my reflection that, had Abed not injured me, I would now, in all likelihood, be a doctor and a husband and a father. I would be less mindful of time and of death, and, oh, I would not be disabled, would not suffer the thousand slings and arrows of my fortune. The frequent furl of five fingers, the chips in my teeth come from biting at all the many things a solitary hand cannot open. The dancer and the dance were hopelessly entwined.
我开了一小时的车 当我看后视镜时,我看到了自己神采奕奕的眼神 我眼中的光彩就从出生的时候就存在了 天性和冲动驱使了我 如同一个蹒跚学步的孩童尝试将一艘船推进一个芝加哥的湖 驱使我像一个少年一样 在飓风后跳进汹涌的鳕鱼角湾 但是我也思考过 如果Abed没有伤害我 现在的我很可能成为一名医生 一位丈夫,一位父亲 但我不会那么关注时间,关注死亡 哦,当然,我也不会残疾 不会承受这不计其数的厄运 手指的频繁收拢 吃什么都会塞牙缝 一只手无法伸展开 我的人生——舞者和舞蹈绝望地纠缠在了一起
It was approaching 11 when I exited right toward Afula, and passed a large quarry and was soon in Kafr Qara. I felt a pang of nerves. But Chopin was on the radio, seven beautiful mazurkas, and I pulled into a lot by a gas station to listen and to calm. I'd been told that in an Arab town, one need only mention the name of a local and it will be recognized. And I was mentioning Abed and myself, noting deliberately that I was here in peace, to the people in this town, when I met Mohamed outside a post office at noon. He listened to me. You know, it was most often when speaking to people that I wondered where I ended and my disability began. For many people told me what they told no one else. Many cried. And one day, after a woman I met on the street did the same and I later asked her why, she told me that, best she could tell, her tears had had something to do with my being happy and strong, but vulnerable too. I listened to her words, I suppose they were true. I was me, but I was now me despite a limp, and that, I suppose, was what now made me, me.
当我驶出高速公路的出口,驶向阿芙拉,已经接近11点了 我经过一个大的采石场 不久,就到了法卡拉 我感到一阵紧张 收音机里正在播放肖邦的七首马祖卡舞曲 我驶进一个加油站 因为我想停下来去听几首歌,让自己镇定下来 有人告诉过我,在阿拉伯的小镇里 你随便说一个当地人的名字 大家都知道他是谁 我说了Abed的名字,而我自己 平静的站在这里 对小镇里的人来说并不是不速之客 中午,我在邮局外遇到默罕默德 他听了我的故事 要知道,经常在我向别人说我的经历时 我才想知道我的人生是在哪里转变,我的残疾是从哪开始 因为许多人也告诉乐我一些他们从未告诉过别人的事 许多人哭了 有一天,我在街上遇到一个妇女,她听完后也哭了 我问她为什么要哭 她告诉我 她被我的乐观和坚强打动, 也为人类身体的脆弱感到惋惜 我听完了她的话。我认为大家说的都是真心话 我曾经是我 我现在也还是我,只不过变成了跛子 即使那样,我期望知道到底是什么造就了我
Anyway, Mohamed told me what perhaps he would not have told another stranger. He led me to a house of cream stucco, then drove off. And as I sat contemplating what to say, a woman approached in a black shawl and black robe. I stepped from my car and said "Shalom," and identified myself, and she told me that her husband Abed would be home from work in four hours. Her Hebrew was not good, and she later confessed that she thought that I had come to install the internet.
默罕默德告诉我一件 他可能不会告诉其他陌生人的事 他把我领到一座奶油色的房子外,然后开车离开了 我坐在车上,琢磨着该说点啥 一个披着黑色披肩、穿着黑色长袍的女人向我走来 我走下车,说“您好” 然后介绍我自己 她告诉我她丈夫Abed 4小时后就会下班回家 她的希伯来语不太好,后来她承认 她以为我是来安装网络的
(Laughter)
(笑声)
I drove off and returned at 4:30, thankful to the minaret up the road that helped me find my way back. And as I approached the front door, Abed saw me, my jeans and flannel and cane, and I saw Abed, an average-looking man of average size. He wore black and white, slippers over socks, pilling sweatpants, a piebald sweater, a striped ski cap pulled down to his forehead. He'd been expecting me, Mohamed had phoned. And so at once, we shook hands, and smiled, and I gave him my gift, and he told me I was a guest in his home, and we sat beside one another on a fabric couch. It was then that Abed resumed at once the tale of woe he had begun over the phone 16 years before. He'd just had surgery on his eyes, he said. He had problems with his side and his legs too, and, oh, he'd lost his teeth in the crash. Did I wish to see him remove them? Abed then rose and turned on the TV so that I wouldn't be alone when he left the room, and returned with Polaroids of the crash and his old driver's license. "I was handsome," he said. We looked down at his laminated mug. Abed had been less handsome than substantial, with thick black hair and a full face and a wide neck. It was this youth who on May 16, 1990, had broken two necks including mine, and bruised one brain and taken one life. Twenty-one years later, he was now thinner than his wife, his skin slack on his face, and looking at Abed looking at his young self, I remembered looking at that photograph of my young self after the crash, and recognized his longing. "The crash changed both of our lives," I said.
我开车离开,然后在4:30又去了 多亏路旁的尖塔 帮我找到了来时的路 当我走近Abed家的前门时 Abed看到了我——穿着牛仔裤和法兰绒上衣,拄着手杖 我也看到了他,一个相貌普通、中等身材的男人 他穿着黑白相间的上衣,套着袜子踩着拖鞋 穿着起球的运动裤和黑白斑点的毛衣 一顶带条纹的滑雪帽遮住了他的额头 他一直在等我,默罕默德已经打电话通知他了 所以,很自然地,我们俩伸手,握手,微笑 我交给他我带来的礼物 他对我说我是他尊贵的客人 我们紧挨着坐在布沙发上 这时,Abed继续讲起了 16年前电话中没讲完的悲惨故事 16年前电话中没讲完的悲惨故事 他说,他的眼睛那时刚做完手术 而且他一侧的身体和大腿也有毛病 哦,对了,在那场车祸里他也失去了牙齿 他问,你想不想看我摘掉的那些坏牙? 然后Abed站起来,打开电视机 他认为那样的话,当他离开房间时我就不会感到孤单 当他回来的时候,手里拿着那次车祸的照片 和他的旧驾照 “我当时很帅” 他说 我们低头看他的叠层杯上的照片 Abed并没有他自己说的那么帅 照片上是一个浓密黑发、圆脸、宽下巴的年轻人 就是这个年轻人,在1990年5月16日, 弄断了包括我在内的两个人的脖子 挫伤了一个人的大脑,夺去了一个人的生命 21年后,他比他的妻子还要瘦 他脸上皮肤松弛 看看现在的Abed, 再看看年轻时的他 我想起了车祸后看我自己年轻时的照片 我看出了他的想法 我说 "车祸改变我们的生活”
Abed then showed me a picture of his mashed truck, and said that the crash was the fault of a bus driver in the left lane who did not let him pass. I did not want to recap the crash with Abed. I'd hoped for something simpler: to exchange a Turkish dessert for two words and be on my way. And so I didn't point out that in his own testimony the morning after the crash, Abed did not even mention the bus driver. No, I was quiet. I was quiet because I had not come for truth. I had come for remorse. And so I now went looking for remorse and threw truth under the bus. "I understand," I said, "that the crash was not your fault, but does it make you sad that others suffered?" Abed spoke three quick words. "Yes, I suffered."
Abed又给我看了一张照片,是他那辆撞得破烂的卡车 他说,车祸全是那个公交车司机的错 那个司机在左车道上没有给他让路 我不想对Abed重述那次车祸 我来的目的很简单: 用那块土耳其糖换来三个字,然后立刻走人 所以,我没有提到车祸第二天早上他提供的证词 所以,我没有提到车祸第二天早上他提供的证词 Abed甚至没有提到那个公交车司机 但是,我很平静,我平静是因为我不是为真相而来 我是为他的自责而来 所以,我将事实真相抛开 只希望听到他的自责 “我知道,” 我说,“那场车祸绝不是你的错, 但是你为自己让别人受伤而难受过吗?" Abed很快地说出几个字 “是的,我很难受。”
Abed then told me why he'd suffered. He'd lived an unholy life before the crash, and so God had ordained the crash, but now, he said, he was religious, and God was pleased. It was then that God intervened: news on the TV of a car wreck that hours before had killed three people up north. We looked up at the wreckage. "Strange," I said. "Strange," he agreed. I had the thought that there, on Route 804, there were perpetrators and victims, dyads bound by a crash. Some, as had Abed, would forget the date. Some, as had I, would remember. The report finished and Abed spoke. "It is a pity," he said, "that the police in this country are not tough enough on bad drivers."
Abed然后告诉我他为什么难受 车祸前他一直过着没有信仰的罪恶的生活 所以上帝降下了这次车祸 但是现在,他说,他信仰宗教,上帝很高兴 就在谈话时,上帝“介入”了 就在这时,电视新闻播报几小时前的一场车祸中 三个向北行驶的人死了 我们看着汽车残骸 “很奇怪,” 我说 “是的,很奇怪” 他随声附和 我有一个想法,那里,就在804号路上 那里有肇事者和受害者 他们因为车祸联系到了一起 一些人,比如Abed,可能忘了车祸的具体日期 另一些人,比如我,却牢牢记得 播报完了,Abed开口说话 “很遗憾” ,他说 “这个国家的警察对差劲的司机不够严厉。”
(Laughter)
我很困惑
I was baffled. Abed had said something remarkable. Did it point up the degree to which he'd absolved himself of the crash? Was it evidence of guilt, an assertion that he should have been put away longer? He'd served six months in prison, lost his truck license for a decade. I forgot my discretion. "Um, Abed," I said, "I thought you had a few driving issues before the crash."
Abed说了些有道理的话 这样就能为他开脱车祸肇事的责任吗? 那是他内疚的表现吗? 他认为他的确罪不可赦,该被多关几年? 他在监狱里呆了6个月,十年里不得开卡车 我忘记了我来时的谨慎 “嗯,Abed” ,我说 “我想,在车祸前你就已经有一些驾驶问题了”
"Well," he said, "I once went 60 in a 40." And so 27 violations -- driving through a red light, driving at excessive speed, driving on the wrong side of a barrier, and finally, riding his brakes down that hill -- reduced to one. And it was then I understood that no matter how stark the reality, the human being fits it into a narrative that is palatable. The goat becomes the hero. The perpetrator becomes the victim. It was then I understood that Abed would never apologize.
“是的,” 他承认,“我有一次在限速40英里的路上加速到60英里” 那27次违章—— 包括闯红灯、超速、 逆行, 最后,踩着刹车冲下山 26次违章驾驶,说没有就没有了。 我终于意识到,无论事实多么明显 那个人都会把残酷的事实说成有趣的故事 懦夫成了英雄,犯罪的人反而成了受害者 就在那时,我意识到Abed永远不会道歉
Abed and I sat with our coffee. We'd spent 90 minutes together, and he was now known to me. He was not a particularly bad man or a particularly good man. He was a limited man who'd found it within himself to be kind to me. With a nod to Jewish custom, he told me that I should live to be 120 years old. But it was hard for me to relate to one who had so completely washed his hands of his own calamitous doing, to one whose life was so unexamined that he said he thought two people had died in the crash.
Abed和我坐在一起,喝着咖啡 我们在一起待了一个半小时 我现在知道他的为人了 算不上恶贯满盈 当然也绝非善类 他是一个有缺点的人 自己觉得对我还算是和气 他朝我行了一个犹太礼节的点头礼 还祝愿我能活到120岁 但是,我恐怕没法跟这么一个说洗手不干就能把自己的罪过一笔勾销的家伙扯上交情 但是,我恐怕没法跟这么一个说洗手不干就能把自己的罪过一笔勾销的家伙扯上交情 他浑浑噩噩的 竟然以为那场车祸的结果就是“有两个人死了”
There was much I wished to say to Abed. I wished to tell him that, were he to acknowledge my disability, it would be OK, for people are wrong to marvel at those like me who smile as we limp. People don't know that they have lived through worse, that problems of the heart hit with a force greater than a runaway truck, that problems of the mind are greater still, more injurious than a hundred broken necks. I wished to tell him that what makes most of us who we are most of all is not our minds and not our bodies and not what happens to us, but how we respond to what happens to us. "This," wrote the psychiatrist Viktor Frankl, "is the last of the human freedoms: to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances."
我有很多话想对Abed说 我想问他,他是否知道车祸后我残疾了 当人们对那些像我一样, 虽然跛行却面带微笑的人感到惊奇时 他们是不对的。但那不算什么。 因为他们不知道我们已经历经困难 我们内心遭受的打击带来的问题远比一辆失控的卡车严重得多 我们思想上的问题也要比弄断一百个脖子带来的问题更严重 我们思想上的问题也要比弄断一百个脖子带来的问题更严重 我想告诉他是什么造就我们 真正造就我们的, 不是我们的思想或者身体 也不是发生在我们身上的事情 而是我们对待这些事情的态度 精神病学家维克多·弗兰克曾写道 “在任何给定的情况下选择自己的态度 这是人类最后的自由。”
I wished to tell him that not only paralyzers and paralyzees must evolve, reconcile to reality, but we all must -- the aging and the anxious and the divorced and the balding and the bankrupt and everyone. I wished to tell him that one does not have to say that a bad thing is good, that a crash is from God and so a crash is good, a broken neck is good. One can say that a bad thing sucks, but that this natural world still has many glories. I wished to tell him that, in the end, our mandate is clear. We have to rise above bad fortune. We have to be in the good and enjoy the good -- study and work and adventure and friendship, oh, friendship, and community and love.
我想告诉他,不仅是瘫痪的人和“让别人瘫痪的人” 要共同进步,甘心接受事实 我们所有的人都要接受现实 接受衰老、忧虑、离婚、秃头 还有破产等等。每个人都要做到 我希望告诉他,人不要总说 坏事很好 车祸是上帝带来的,所以车祸是好的 断了脖子是好的 一个人可以说一件坏事令人讨厌 但世上还有许多可以值得我骄傲的事 到最后,我希望告诉他 ,我们要做的事很简单 我们要从厄运中走出来 我们要保持好的状态并且享受这种状态 学习,工作,冒险和交朋友——哦——友谊 集体和爱
But most of all, I wished to tell him what Herman Melville wrote, that truly "to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast." Yes, contrast. If you are mindful of what you do not have, you may be truly mindful of what you do have. And if the gods are kind, you may truly enjoy what you have. That is the one singular gift you may receive if you suffer in any existential way. You know death, and so may wake each morning pulsing with ruddy life. Some part of you is cold, and so another part may truly enjoy what it is to be warm, or even to be cold. When one morning, years after the crash, I stepped onto stone and the underside of my left foot felt the flash of cold, nerves at last awake, it was exhilarating, a gust of snow.
但最重要的是,我想告诉Abed 赫尔曼·麦尔维尔(美国作家)的一句话 “正因为身体的某些部分感觉寒冷 才能真正享受身体所受到的温暖 因为在这个世界上, 有比较才有认识 是的,比较 如果你介意你没有的东西 你可能也会介意你已经拥有了的 如果上帝是仁慈的,你可能会真正享受你拥有的 不管你正遭受着何种苦难 这都是一份你会获得的小礼物 你知道死亡,所以可以每天早上醒来 还具有生命般的脉动 当你的身体某些部分感到寒冷 另外的一些部分才能真正感受到什么是温暖 或者什么是更寒冷 车祸后的很多年的一天早上,天正下着雪, 我漫步在石子路上,我的左脚底 终于恢复了知觉,感受到了一丝寒冷、紧张 那真是令人愉悦的一阵雪
But I didn't say these things to Abed. I told him only that he had killed one man, not two. I told him the name of that man. And then I said, "Goodbye."
但是我不想把这些说给Abed听 我只是告诉他,他杀死的是一个人,不是两个 我还告诉他那个人的名字 然后,我说 “再见”
Thank you.
谢谢
(Applause)
(掌声)
Thanks a lot.
多谢
(Applause and cheers)
(掌声)