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violin怎么讀 wonderful怎么讀

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violin怎么讀 wonderful怎么讀



violin怎么讀 wonderful怎么讀


When I was eight or nine years old, I wrote my first poem.
當(dāng)我八九歲的時(shí)候,寫了生平第一首詩.
At that time my father was head of Paramount Studios. My mother was involved in various intellectual projects.
那時(shí),父親是派拉蒙電影制片廠的廠長(zhǎng),母親從事文化事業(yè).
My mother read the little poem and began to cry, "Buddy, you didn't really write this beautiful, beautiful poem!"
母親讀完這首小詩后喊道："巴蒂,難以置信你能寫出這么美、這么美的詩!"
I stammered that I had. She poured out her praise. Why, this poem was nothing short of genius!
我結(jié)結(jié)巴巴地說是我寫的.她大大地表揚(yáng)了我一番.天啊,這首詩整個(gè)是一個(gè)天才的杰作.
I glowed. "What time will Father be home?" I asked. I could hardly wait to show him.
我臉上現(xiàn)出愉快的表情."爸爸什么時(shí)候回來?"我問道,我迫不及待地想給他看看.
I spent the best part of that afternoon preparing for his arrival. First, I wrote the poem out in my finest flourish. Then I crayoned an elaborate border around it that would do justice to its brilliant content. As seven o'clock drew near, I confidently placed it on my father's plate on the dining-room table.
整個(gè)下午的大部分時(shí)間我都在為父親的到來做著準(zhǔn)備.我先用最漂亮的花體字抄寫了一遍,然后用彩色筆畫了一圈兒精美的花邊兒,讓它與內(nèi)容相配.當(dāng)七點(diǎn)將近的時(shí)候,我滿懷信心地把它擺在餐桌上父親的餐盤里.
But my father did not return at seven. I could hardly stand the suspense. I admired my father. He had begun his motion-picture career as a writer. He would be able to appreciate this wonderful poem of mine even more than my mother.
但是七點(diǎn)鐘父親沒有回來,我不能耐受這種心懸的感覺.我崇拜父親,他是以作家的身份開始他的電影生涯的.他會(huì)比母親更能欣賞優(yōu)美的詩的.
This evening when my father burst in, his mood seemed even more thunderous than usual. An hour late for dinner, he could not sit down but circled the long dining room table with a drink in his hand, calling down terrible oaths on his employees.
這天晚上,父親突然闖進(jìn)家門,他的情緒比往常要暴躁得多.他比通常吃晚飯的時(shí)間晚回來一小時(shí),他坐不下來,手拿酒杯圍著長(zhǎng)餐桌轉(zhuǎn)圈圈,咒罵他的員工.
He wheeled in his pacing, paused and glared at his plate. There was a suspenseful silence. "What is this?" He was reaching for my poem.
他走著走著轉(zhuǎn)過身停了下來,盯著他的餐盤.屋里靜悄悄的,我的心懸了起來."這是什么?"他伸手去拿我的詩.
"Ben, a wonderful thing has happened," my mother began, "Buddy has written his first poem! And it's beautiful, absolutely amazing…"
"本,發(fā)生了一件了不起的事,"母親開始說話了,"巴蒂寫了他的第一首詩,而且寫得很好,絕對(duì)出乎意料……"
"If you don't mind, I'd like to decide for myself," father said.
"如果你不介意,我想自己來判斷."父親說.
I kept my face lowered to my plate as he read that poem. It was only ten lines. But it seemed to take hours. I remember wondering why it was taking so long. I could hear my father breathing. Then I could hear him dropping the poem back on the table. Now came the moment of decision.
他讀詩時(shí),我一直低垂著頭,盯著盤子.短短十行詩似乎用了好幾個(gè)小時(shí),我記得當(dāng)時(shí)不明白他為什么用了這么長(zhǎng)的時(shí)間.我能聽見我父親的呼吸,接著聽見他把詩放回到桌子上,到了作出結(jié)論的時(shí)候了.
"I think it's lousy," he said.

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