[hide]"> Valentine's Day was Feb. 14, and Chinese call it "lovers' day". I don 't think the translation is an accurate one, since it doesn't belong exclusively to lovers. Valentine's Day is for expressing affection of all sorts. But it is unequivocally the romantically involved who shine the brightest, who spend the most money, whose hearts are the most engaged. When I was a boy my mother would buy enough cheap cards with clumsy drawings of butterflies and bunnies and honeybees for me to give one to every kid in my class, about 20 or so. The cards came in bags, and each card had a few fatuous words -- "Be Mine" or "I Like You" or "You've Got My Heart" or the utterly vapid, "Hi, Valentine!" I would scrawl my name on the cards and the name of one of my classmates on each flimsy envelope. I would insert the cards into the envelopes, and then I would lick each one shut, but they were so cheap that the envelopes rarely had enough glue. On Valentine's Day, I would take the cards to school -- everyone did. We would have a party in our classroom, with cupcakes and juice and tiny candy hearts, which also had Valentine messages printed on them -- "You're Sweet" or "Cupid" or "Love". Ah, love! That's the Valentine's Day message: love. No one knows for certain the origin of the holiday. Several Catholic martyrs were named Valentine, but it's difficult to separate legend from fact. One story tells of a priest named Valentine who was imprisoned and may have been stoned to death around 270 for performing marriages in defiance of the orders of the Roman Emperor Claudius II. But it's hard today to find any religious connection. As I got a little older, I came to hate the school ritual around Valentine's Day. I didn't like the feel of the dry, brittle paper of the cards and licking the envelope flaps disgusted me. Plus the first blush of liking everyone had worn off -- some kids just weren't nice, and I didn't want them as my "special" Valentine, which was always the message on the cards. Perhaps more significantly, my own heart was beginning to flutter in the presence of certain specific girls -- I had a crush on Janice Lamb beginning at about age eleven. In fact, I remember writing her name on six or seven cards. The hard part was that Janice Lamb had a crush on Larry Jones, so she sent him extra cards, and he sent Dawn Rockwell extras, and so on around the room. Valentine's Day became something of a torment -- an introduction to the heartbreak of unrequited love ("heartbreak" = 607,000 hits on Google; "unrequited love" = 118,000 hits). Mercifully, the silliness of these juvenile cards stopped by about age 12, but the agony and the ecstasy of course continued. In 12th grade Mrs. Skala, my literature teacher, whose family roots were in Scotland, constantly sang the praises of the Scottish poet Robert Burns. At that age, I was not fond of school or Mrs. Skala and certainly not of poetry. But I was by that time quite enamored of Linda Fowler, whom I would have done anything to impress. On Valentine's Day that year, Mrs. Skala read aloud Burns's poem "A Red, Red Rose." Perhaps my infatuation with Linda Fowler made me vulnerable, and the mix of sweetness and joy and despair and hope in the poem took me by surprise. It's appropriate to take a look at this famous poem today, in conjunction with Valentine's Day. Incidentally, enter the first line of the poem into Google and 21,900 hits pop up. A Red, Red Rose O my luve is like a red, red rose,That's newly sprung in June;O my luve is like the melody,That's sweetly played in tune.As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,So deep in luve am I;And I will luve thee still, my dear,Till a' the seas gang dry.Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,And the rocks melt wi' the sun!O I will luve thee still, my dear,While the sands o' life shall run.And fare thee weel, my only luve,And fare thee weel a while;And I will come again, my luve,Tho' it were ten thousand mile! A few years ago, I read a survey of one hundred men, celebrities from various walks of life, all of whom were over 60. They were asked what they would do differently if they could live their lives again. Almost to a man they answered, "love more." Here's something: type "Valentine's Day" into the Google search engine on the internet and 1.5 million hits are found. The word "love" generates a list of 120 million sites; "what is love" returns 108,000 hits. 情人节(Valentine's Day)在国外 2月14日是瓦伦丁节,中国人称之为情人节。我认为对这一节日名称的中文翻译并不准确,因为这个节日并不仅仅属于相爱的男女。瓦伦丁节是表达各种爱的节日,但毫无疑问,陷入浪漫爱情的人在这个节日最有神采,也最肯花钱,也最为动情。 当我还是个小男孩时,妈妈会在瓦伦丁节之前给我买来很多便宜的贺卡,上面有画工拙劣的蝴蝶、小兔、蜜蜂,用来送给班里的每个孩子(全班一共有大约20名同学)。这些贺卡是装在塑料袋里的,每张贺卡上都有一句冒傻气的话:“做我的人吧”,“我喜欢你”,“你赢得了我的心”,还有十足的空话“你好,瓦伦丁!”我在每张贺卡上面潦草地写上自己的名字,并且在每个薄薄的信封上写上一个同学的名字。我把贺卡装进信封,然后用舌头去舔,好让信封粘上,但是因为价格太便宜,极少的信封上面才有足够的胶。在瓦伦丁节那天,我就把这些贺卡带到学校——其实谁都这样做。我们就在教室里开派对,有纸托蛋糕、果汁,还有小小的心形糖果,上面还印着瓦伦丁节的特有词语——“你可爱”、“丘比特”或是“爱”。 啊,爱!这就是瓦伦丁节的信息:爱。没有人确切知道这一节日的来源。有几名天主教殉道士的名字叫瓦伦丁,但是要把传说与事实分开是件很困难的事。有个故事是说在公元270年左右有一个名为瓦伦丁的神父,他无视罗马皇帝克劳狄二世的禁令为一对新人主持了婚礼而被关进牢房,后来可能被石头砸死。但是今天很难找到这个节日与宗教的任何关联。 在我长大一点儿后,开始讨厌学校里过瓦伦丁节的那套仪式。我不喜欢那种又干又脆的贺卡纸的感觉,用舌头舔信封的封口也让我觉得恶心。此外,喜欢每一个同学的第一次冲动已经消退——有的孩子并不那么好,我不想将他们作为我在瓦伦丁节最喜欢的人,可贺卡上总是写着这类的话。 也许更为有意义的是,我的心开始在某些女孩面前悸动——大约11岁的时候,我对詹妮斯·拉姆开始了少不更事的迷恋。实际上,我记得曾在六七张贺卡上写上了她的名字,而令我难受的是,詹妮斯恋上了莱瑞·琼斯,所以她就给他很多贺卡,可莱瑞却给了多恩·洛克威尔很多贺卡,事情就这样在教室里发生着。瓦伦丁节变成了一件痛苦的事情——它带来了因为爱没有回报而感到的心碎。(在Google键入“心碎”,有607000个网址;键入“没有回报的爱”,118000个网址) 谢天谢地,在大约12岁的时候,这些少年之间送贺卡的愚蠢游戏结束了。当然,内心的痛苦与狂喜还继续着。在12年级(高三)的时候,我的语文老师斯嘎拉夫人(她祖上是苏格兰人)不断地赞美苏格兰诗人罗伯特·彭斯的诗。在那个年龄,我还不喜欢学校,不喜欢斯嘎拉夫人,当然也不喜欢诗,但那时候我很倾心于琳达·弗勒,为了给她留下好印象我愿意做任何事情。在那年的瓦伦丁节,斯嘎拉夫人大声朗读了彭斯的诗《一朵红红的玫瑰》。或许是我对琳达的迷恋让我变得敏感,诗中交织在一起的甜蜜与快乐、无望与希望一下子就抓住了我。 现在,在刚过了瓦伦丁节的时候,我们读一下这首著名的诗是很适宜的,顺利说一句,在Google上键入这首诗的第一行,就会有21900个网址蹦出来。 一朵红红的玫瑰 啊,我的恋人像红红的玫瑰,六月里绽放;啊,我的恋人像一支乐曲,美妙,悠扬。你真美,可爱的姑娘,我爱你至深至切;永远爱你,我的挚爱,直到四海涸竭。直到四海涸竭,直到岩石消融!我会永远爱你,只要生命无穷。再见吧,我唯一的恋人,再见吧,这只是暂别片刻;我定会回来,我的恋人,即使万里相隔! 几年以前,我读到一份有关100个男人的调查,他们是各行各业的明星人物,全都过了60岁。他们被问及如果能重新活一次,会有哪些与今生不一样的地方,他们几乎异口同声地回答:“要更多地去爱。” 这里还有一些信息:在因特网的Google搜索引擎中键入“瓦伦丁节”,会发现150万个网点,而“爱”一词则是1. 2亿个网点,“什么是爱”10.8万个网点。 Dan Warthman(美) [/hide]
关键字:双语新闻,中英文对照 |