渴望你的爱 英语美文摘抄带翻译

           这是一个真实的故事,下面有中文的翻译,希望大家把她用心的看完!

                                                                                                                         Hungry for Your Love

          It is cold, so bitter cold, on this dark, winter day in 1942. But it is no different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shivering in my thin rags, still in disbelief that this nightmare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future, to growing up and marrying, and having a family of my own. But those dreams are for the living, and I am no longer one of them. Instead, I am almost dead, surviving from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?

　　Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry, but I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day as more of us disappear, the happy past seems like a mere dream, and I sink deeper and deeper into despair. Suddenly, I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes, eyes that seem to say that she understands, that she, too, cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away, oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this, but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.

　　Then she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. Oh, how long has it been since I have seen one! She looks cautiously to the left and to the right, and then with a smile of triumph, quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up, holding it in my trembling, frozen fingers. In my world of death, this apple is an expression of life, of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing into the distance.

　　The next day, I cannot help myself-I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.

　　And again, she comes. And again, she brings me an apple, flinging it over the fence with that same sweet smile.

　　This time I catch it, and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care, though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.

　　For seven months, we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.

　　One day, I hear frightening news: we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely means the end for me and my friend. The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking, and I can barely speak as I say what must be said: "Do not bring me an apple tomorrow," I tell her. "I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again." Turning before I lose all control, I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see me standing there, with tears streaming down my face.

　　Months pass and the nightmare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind, I see her face, her kind eyes, I hear her gentle words, I taste those apples.

　　And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The war has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life. Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.

　　"Where were you during the war?" Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.

　　"I was in a concentration camp in Germany," I reply.

　　Roma gets a far away look in her eyes, as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.

　　"What is it?" I ask.

　　"I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman," Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. "You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy."

　　Roma sighs heavily and continues. "It is hard to describe how we felt about each other-after all, we were young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could-but I can tell you, there was much love there. I assume he was killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together."

　　With my heart pounding so loudly I think it wil1 explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, "And did that boy say to you one day, 'Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp'?"

　　"Why, yes," Roma responds, her voice trembling.

　　"But, Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?"

　　I take her hands in mine and answer, "Because I was that young boy, Roma."

　　For many moments, there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other, and as the veils of time lift, we recognize the soul behind the eyes, the dear friend we once loved so much, whom we have never stopped loving, whom we have never stopped remembering.

　　Finally, I speak: "Look, Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don't ever want to be separated from you again. Now, I am free, and I want to be together with you forever. Dear, will you marry me?"

　　I see that same twinkle in her eye that I used to see as Roma says, "Yes, I will marry you," and we embrace, the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us. Now, nothing ever will again.

　　Almost forty years have passed since that day when I found my Roma again. Destiny brought us together the first time during the war to show me a promise of hope and now it had reunited us to fulfill that promise.

　　Valentine's Day, 1996. I bring Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor her on national television. I want to tell her in front of millions of people what I feel in my heart every day:

　　"Darling, you fed me in the concentration camp when I was hungry. And I am still hungry, for something I will never get enough of: I am only hungry for your love."
 

google的翻译修改:

渴望你的爱
       1942年冬季   严寒 纳粹集中营。 我站在颤抖薄衣衫褴褛，我仍然不相信，这场恶梦正在发生。我只是一个年轻的男孩。我应该和朋友一起玩，我应该去上学，我应该期待未来，成长起来，结婚，并有我自己的家庭。但这些梦想的生活，我不再是其中之一。相反，我几乎销声匿迹了，从来这的第一天开始，每小时，和其他成千上万犹太人一样在这里。不知道是否还能活到明天!也许今晚我会被送到毒气室!

      我在铁丝网附近来回走着，试图让瘦弱的身体暖和起来。我很饿，但食物似乎只是一个梦而已。每一天，随着我们中人数的减少，那些过去的欢乐时间似乎仅仅是一场梦而已，我陷入了越来越深的绝望当中。突然，我注意到，一个年轻的女孩正经过铁丝网的那端。她停住脚步，用一双带有哀愁的目光看着我，似乎她想告诉我，她理解我的处境，但是不知道为何我会在这里。我想把目光转移开，她这样看着我让我感到慕名奇妙的羞愧，但是，我又无法转移我的目光。就在那时，她把手伸进口袋，拿出了一个红苹果，一个漂亮的，闪着红光的苹果。啊，从我上次见到它已近很久很久了！她警惕的左右环视了一下，然后面带着胜利的微笑，将苹果扔过了铁丝网。我跑着接过了那个苹果，用冻的发抖双手紧紧握住它。在我死亡的世界里，这个苹果所传递出的的正是生命和爱。我抬起头，注视着那个女孩消失在远处。

       第二天，我无法控制住自己，在同一时间，来到了靠近栅栏的地方。是我疯了，希望她能再次出现吗？当然，就在此处，我必须抓住任何微小的希望，因为她给了我希望，所以，我必须要牢牢抓紧它。

    她当真再次来了，并且，再次给我带来了一个苹果，面带着微笑，将苹果扔过铁丝网。

    这次，我接住了苹果，并且把它举起，以便能让那个女孩看到。她的眼睛在闪烁，是在同情我吗？或许，但是，我不敢肯定。我只是感到这样注视着她是如此的幸福。第一次，时间是与此之长，我可以感到自己的心随着激情而起伏。

    七个多月过去了，我们就是如此相见。有时，我们也会交谈几句；有时，仅仅是一个苹果。但是，她所给我的东西远胜过我的事量 她，是来自天堂的天使。她是在滋润我的灵魂。但是，不知怎么的，我感觉到我也在滋润她。

     一天，   我听到了一个可怕的消息：我们要被运往另外一个集中营。对我而言，这将是一个结束，并且，很明显，是对我和我的朋友。

    第二天，当我再次问候她时，我的心都快要碎了。我实在不想说什么，但是又必须得说：“明天不要再给我苹果了，”我对她说。“我将被送往另外一个集中营，我们将无法再次相见了。”在我无法控制自己之前，立刻转过身，我跑着离开了铁丝网。我不能回头，如果我做了，我知道她会看到我满脸泪水的站在那。

    无数个月过去了，噩梦仍然继续。但是，那个女孩的记忆，支撑着我，度过那些恐怖，痛苦和绝望。一次次的，在我记忆中，我看到了她的脸，她善良的眼睛，听到她那轻柔的声音，品尝着那些苹果。

    然而，就在那天，噩梦结束了。战争结束了。我们中的那些幸运的人获得了自由。但我已经失去了所有对我来说一切珍贵的东西，包括我的家庭。但是，我依然有关于那个女孩的记忆，一个带入我心灵的，给了我信念继续前景的记忆，就在我即将回到美国，开始我崭新生活时。

    许多年过去了。在１９５７年，我居住在纽约市，一个朋友劝说我和他的一个女朋友一起去狂饮一番。不情愿下，我同意了。这个女人名叫Ｒｏｍａ，和我一样，她也使移民，所以，在这点上，我们至少是一样的。

    “战争期间你在哪？”她轻轻地问我。在那些年里，移民之间互相问问题是需要技巧的。

    “在德国的一个集中营里，”我答道。

    Ｒｏｍａ的眼神是如此的深邃，如同她记起了一些痛苦而又甜美的事来。

    “怎么了？”我问道。

    “我只是想起了过去的一些事情，Ｈｅｍａｎ，”Ｒｏｍａｎ忽然用一种非常柔软的声音解释道。“你想，当我还是一个小女孩时，我就住在一个集中营附近。那里，有一个男孩，他是一个俘虏，我天天去看他。我记得我常给他带苹果。我将苹果扔过铁丝网，那时，他是如此高兴！”

    Ｒｏｍａ大声叹息道，然后继续。“很难形容我们对对对方是怎么样的一种感觉，毕竟，我们当时太年轻了，我们只交谈过几句，但是，我敢肯定的告诉你，那里面饱含着很深的爱。我猜测，他像其他人一样已经被杀死了，但是，我还是忍不住去想那些，所以，我还是试着去回忆他，因为他是那些赋予我们几个月里一同度过的人。”

    随后我的心怦怦的直跳，我感觉它快要跳出来了。我直视着Ｒｏｍａ，问道，“那么，那个男孩是否说过，‘明天不要再给我苹果，我将被送往另外一个集中营。’了吗？”

   “是的，怎么了？”Ｒｏｍａ用颤抖的声音回答道。

    “但是，Ｈｅｍａｎ，你怎么知道那个的？”

    我握起她的手，回答道，“因为我就是那个男孩，Ｒｏｍａ。”

    接着，便是许久的沉寂。我们无法将对方从自己的视线中转移，随着时间的消逝，我们透过的眼睛，看到了灵魂，一个让我们曾经深爱的亲爱的朋友，一个从未让我们停驻深爱对方的人，一个我们永远无法停止不回忆对方的人。

    最终，我说道：“瞧，Ｒｏｍａ，我已经和你分开了一次，不想再和你分开了。现在，我已经自由了，我想和你永远在一起。亲爱的，你愿意嫁给我吗？”

    当Ｒｏｍａ回答时，我在她的眼睛里再次看到了之前的闪动，“是的，我愿意嫁给你。”我们相互拥抱，这个拥抱我们已经渴望许久了，但是却很难实现，现在，不会再有任何阻碍了。

    当我再次找到我的Ｒｏｍａ那天算起，几乎４０年。在战阵期间，命运将我们带到了一起，给我了希望的诺言，现在，它有将我们重聚在一起，去实现那个诺言。

    １９９６年，情人节那天，我带着Ｒｏｍａ，来到了国家电视台的Oprah Winfrey节目，想当着数亿观众的面，告诉她在我心中，每天的感受是怎么样的：

    亲爱的，当我在集中营里饥饿时，是你给我了食物，但是，我现在依然饥饿，因为我永远也得不到一些足够的东西――那就是你的爱！“