我的生活（節(jié)選）

海倫·凱勒

Even in the days before my teacher came， I used to feel along the square stiff box wood hedges， and， guided by the sense of smell， would find the first violets and lilies. There， too， after a fit of temper， I went to find comfort and to hide my hot face in the cool leaves and grass. What joy it was to lose myself in that garden of flowers， to wander happily from spot to spot， until， coming suddenly upon a beautiful vine， I recognized it by its leaves and blossoms， and knew it was the vine which covered the tumble-down summer-house at the farther end of the garden！ Here， also， were trailing clematis， drooping jess a mine， and some rare sweet flowers called butterfly lilies， because their fragile petals resemble butterflies wings. But the roses—they were loveliest of all. Never have I found in the greenhouses of the North such heart-satisfying roses as the climbing roses of my southern home. They used to hang in long festoons from our porch， filling the whole air with their fragrance， untainted by an year thy smell； and in the early morning， washed in the dew， they felt so soft， so pure， I could not help wondering if they did not resemble the asphodels of Gods garden.

The beginning of my life was simple and much like every other little life. I came， I saw， I conquered， as the first baby in the family always does. There was the usual amount of discussion as to a name for me. The first baby in the family was not to be lightly named， everyone was emphatic about that. My father suggested the name of Mildred Campbell， an ancestor whom he highly esteemed， and he declined to take any further part in the discussion. My mother solved the problem by giving it as her wish that I should be called after her mother， whose maiden name was Helen Everett. But in the excitement of carrying me to church， my father lost the name on the way， very naturally， since it was one in which he had declined to have a part. When the minister asked him for it， he just remembered that it had been decided to call me after my grandmother， and he gave her name as Helen Adams.

I am told that while I was still in long dresses I showed many signs of an eager， self-asserting disposition. Everything that I saw other people do I insisted upon imitating. At six months I could pipe out “How dye，” and one day I attracted every ones attention by saying “Tea， tea， tea” quite plainly. Even after my illness I remembered one of the words I had learned in these early months. It was the word “water，” and I continued to make some sound for that word after all other speech was lost. I ceased making the sound “wah-wah” only when I learned to spell the word.

They tell me I walked the day I was one year old. My mother had just taken me out of the bath-tub and was holding me in her lap， when I was suddenly attracted by the flickering shadows of leaves that danced in the sunlight on the smooth floor. I slipped from my mothers lap and almost ran toward them. The impulse gone， I fell down and cried for her to take me up in her arms.

These happy days did not last long. One brief spring， musical with the song of robin and mocking-bird， one summer rich in fruit and roses， one autumn of gold and crimson sped by and left their gifts at the feet of an eager， delighted child. Then， in the dreary month of February， came the illness which closed my eyes and ears and plunged me into the unconsciousness of a new-born baby. They called it acute congestion of the stomach and brain. The doctor thought I could not live. Early one morning， however， the fever left me as suddenly and mysteriously as it had come. There was great rejoicing in the family that morning， but no one， not even the doctor， knew that I should never see or hear again.

I fancy I still have confused recollections of that illness. I especially remember the tenderness with which my mother tried to soothe me in my waking hours of fret and pain， and the agony and bewilderment with which I awoke after a tossing half sleep， and turned my eyes， so dry and hot， to the wall， away from the once-loved light， which came to me dim and yet more dim each day. But， except for these fleeting memories， if， indeed， they be memories， it all seems very unreal， like a nightmare. Gradually I got used to the silence and darkness that surrounded me and forgot that it had ever been different， until she came—my teacher—who was to set my spirit free. But during the first nineteen months of my life I had caught glimpses of broad， green fields， a luminous sky， trees and flowers which the darkness that followed could not wholly blot out. If we have once seen， “the day is ours， and what the day has shown.”

在我的老師到來之前，我一直習(xí)慣于沿著方形的黃楊木樹籬摸索前行。嗅覺是我的向?qū)?，通過它，我發(fā)現(xiàn)了生命中的第一株紫羅蘭花和百合花。正是在這座小花園里，在經(jīng)歷了暴躁情緒的發(fā)作之后，我繼續(xù)尋找令我舒適的感覺，我把自己溫?zé)岬哪樎襁M(jìn)涼颼颼的樹葉和草叢里。將自己迷失在花叢中是如此令人愉悅，從一個地方尋覓到另一個地方是其樂無窮的。就在探尋的過程中，我突然碰到一枝美麗的藤蔓，我會通過它的葉子和花蕾來辨別它的形狀，而且我知道，這就是那覆蓋著搖搖欲墜的涼亭，遠(yuǎn)在花園盡頭的葡萄藤！在我身邊，還有觸手可及的鐵線蓮，垂落于枝葉間的茉莉花，以及一些名叫蝴蝶百合的稀有花卉，這種花的花瓣因其形似蝴蝶那對脆弱易折的翅膀而得名。而玫瑰，則是這花園中最傲人的。我從來沒有在北方的溫室里見過長勢如此繁茂的玫瑰，花朵沿著門廊形成了一道長長的花徑，空氣中彌漫著沁人的芳香，那種清醇的味道絲毫不沾染泥土的濁氣。每天清晨，在露水的沐浴中，玫瑰嬌柔淳美，這時我會禁不住展開神思遐想，這些花兒是不是很像上帝花園中的常春花呢？

就像諸多弱小的生命一樣，我生命的伊始樸素而單純；我出生，我睜眼看世界，我擁有全家人的關(guān)心，如同很多百姓家中第一個孩子一樣。為了給我起名字，家人還煞費(fèi)了一番周章。家里的第一個孩子的名字當(dāng)然馬虎不得，家中的每一個人都參與其中。我的父親建議給我取名米爾德萊德·坎貝爾，此人是父親極為崇敬的一位祖先，對于這個名字，父親拒絕做進(jìn)一步的商榷。而我的母親則按照她自己的意愿解決這個問題，她認(rèn)為我應(yīng)該隨她母親的姓氏。她母親年輕時候的名字是海倫·埃弗里特。沒想到的是，就在一家人興高采烈地帶我去教堂洗禮的路上，父親把取好的名字給弄丟了，這再自然不過了，因?yàn)檫@是一個父親本就不喜歡的名字。所以，當(dāng)牧師問他的時候，他才記起來，我的名字還是應(yīng)該隨我外祖母的姓氏，這是早就定好了的，于是他給嬰兒取名叫海倫·亞當(dāng)斯。

我從家人口中得知，當(dāng)我尚在襁褓中的時候，我就表現(xiàn)出了急躁而固執(zhí)的個性。我會執(zhí)意模仿別人做的每一件事情。在六個月大時，我就能咿咿呀呀地說出“你——好”之類的詞句。有一天，我十分清晰地說出了“茶，茶，茶”，這引起了家里每一個人的注意。即便是在我生病之后，我仍然記得在我生命最初幾個月里所學(xué)到的一個詞，這個詞就是“水”。此后，在我所有的語言功能喪失殆盡后，我就一直模糊地發(fā)出“水”這個詞的聲音，只有在學(xué)習(xí)拼讀的時候，我才會停止說“水——水”。

家人還對我講了我一歲時學(xué)走路的情景。那天，母親把我從澡盆里抱出來，放在她的膝蓋上。當(dāng)時，林木婆娑，光影搖曳，我被眼前的景象吸引住了，于是，我從母親的腿上掙脫下來，試圖追逐地上的陰影。這種沖動付出了代價，我跌倒在地，哭喊著撲進(jìn)母親的懷里。

快樂的日子并沒有持續(xù)多久。一個短暫的春天，知更鳥和嘲鶇的啁啾余音繚繞；一個花果繁盛的夏天；一個金黃色的秋天——時光倏忽即逝，在一個如饑似渴、欣喜異常的幼兒腳下，季節(jié)留給了她最后的禮物。隨后，在一個陰沉蕭索的二月，疾病封閉了我的眼睛和耳朵，重新將我拋進(jìn)一個新生嬰兒般的無意識狀態(tài)。家人們管這種病叫作胃和腦的急性阻塞癥。醫(yī)生認(rèn)為我活不了了，然而造化弄人，就在某天早晨，我身上的燒突然退了，就像它到來時那樣神秘莫測。那天早晨，家中洋溢著喜悅祥和的氣氛，但是沒有一個人，連同醫(yī)生在內(nèi)，知道我將再也看不見，再也聽不見了。

如今，對疾病的回憶仍然會令我感到困惑。我特別記得母親的悉心呵護(hù)，她在我一連數(shù)小時的焦躁和疼痛時盡量撫慰我。我會在睡覺的時候驚悸著醒來，隨之而來的是巨大的痛楚和迷惑，我試圖轉(zhuǎn)動眼睛，然而它是如此干澀灼熱；我把頭扭向墻壁，因?yàn)槟抢镌忻匀说牧凉?，但是我只能看到暗淡模糊的一片，而且一天比一天模糊。除了這些短暫的記憶，也就不曾剩下別樣的東西了。事實(shí)上，這些回憶如夢似幻，恰如一場噩夢。漸漸地，我變得習(xí)慣于被寂靜和黑暗所圍裹，忘卻了這種生活有什么與眾不同，直到她——我的老師的到來——她將引領(lǐng)我進(jìn)入精神自由的世界。總之，在我生命的最初十九個月中，我曾對這個世界匆匆一瞥，廣袤的綠色田野，明亮的天空，樹木和花叢的印記是隨后而來的黑暗所無法抹滅掉的。假如我們曾經(jīng)看見過，“那一天就屬于我們，那一天所展現(xiàn)的一切就屬于我們”。

Word Study

fragile /'fr?d?a?l/ adj. 脆弱的；易損的

Relations between the countries are in a fragile state.

untaint /?n'te?nt/ v. 未被污染；未被沾染

esteem /?'sti?m/ v. 尊重；敬重

He was esteemed as a literary wit.

decline /d?'kla?n/ v. 拒絕；拒不（考慮）

I offered to give them a lift but they declined.

disposition /d?sp?'z???n/ n. 性格；性情

The film is not suitable for people of a nervous disposition.

cease /si?s/ v. 停止；終止

You never cease to amaze me！

impulse /'?mp?ls/ n. 沖動；一時的念頭

He had a sudden impulse to stand up and sing.

dreary /'dr??ri/ adj. 陰沉的；沉悶的

rejoicing /r?'d???s??/ n. 喜慶；歡慶

There was great rejoicing at the victory.

agony /'?ɡ?ni/ n. （精神或肉體的）極度痛苦

It was agony not knowing where the children are.