英语翻译Unmistakable noises are coming through my bedroom wall.Now a scuffling,now a bumping,a long,drawn-out scraping.“John,are you moving furniture in there?Again?” I call.The wall muffles his "yes" but does not filter out of his voice the tinge of excitement.I am not upset by these impulsive rearrangements,just amused at their frequency.I remember my own feelings when I was 13 as he is——the startling,rapid evolution of body and mind and emotions,the ne
英语翻译
Unmistakable noises are coming through my bedroom wall.Now a scuffling,now a bumping,a long,drawn-out scraping.“John,are you moving furniture in there?Again?” I call.The wall muffles his "yes" but does not filter out of his voice the tinge of excitement.
I am not upset by these impulsive rearrangements,just amused at their frequency.I remember my own feelings when I was 13 as he is——the startling,rapid evolution of body and mind and emotions,the need to invent and reinvent yourself through clothes,hairstyles and the arrangement and decor of your room.
Amid the smothered thuds I remember how much John longed for the privacy of his own domain,how he took me aside two years ago when he was sharing a room with his younger brother,Robert.“Mom,” he said,“can I please have a room of my own?I could use Jeff's.He won't mind.”
It was true that Jeff had graduated from college that past June and had flown from the nest.But would he mind if the place where he had spent countless hours growing up was yanked out from under him?Would he feel ousted from the family,barred from ever coming home again?
But beyond his feelings,would I mind?That room was so much a part of our lives over the many years that Jeff had been our only child.In it I taught him to read; we constructed architectural wonders out of blocks and set up elaborate desks.It was where Jeff perfected his artwork and struggled with college applications.It was the place where I told him a thousand stories and where we had a thousand talks.
As close as we were,though,the time came when Jeff need¬ed a door between us,a space of his own to grow in.The door to that bedroom would be shut most of the evening,behind it the muffled sound of a radio or the clack of his secondhand manual typewriter as he banged out one of his marathon letters.
I knew those letters to friends must have been filled with thoughts and opinions Jeff did not share with me.His life was spreading into areas that had nothing to do with home and fami¬ly.I no longer could — or should — know everything about him.
As conscientious parents,we strive to foster indepen¬dence.But when it happens,when you pause outside that door and look at the blank panels it is always a little unsettling.
It turned out that getting Jeff's permission to change the room was easy."Of course," he said."It would be selfish of me to hold on to it." Then his voice softened."Mom,I won't be living at home again — you know that." Behind his glasses,his eyes were lit with all the love that has passed between us over the years.There were no doors closed here — they had all opened up again.
Then John and I jumped into the task of cleaning out closets and drawers,dispatching all the things Jeff had left behind.Playbills,and snapshots,a withered boutonniere,old report cards that stung me with pride a stack of homemade thank-you cards from the second-grade Spanish class Jeff volunteered to teach.
Suddenly,amid all the upheaval my throat caught.There,in a pile of assorted sketches,was a pencil drawing of T-Bird — Jeff's beagle,dead these many years — curled up asleep.Jeff's rendering was so evocative I could almost feel the dear old dog's satiny warm ears.And in that room,with Jeff's things heaped around me,I could almost touch the little boy I knew was gone forever.
Unmistakable noises are coming through my bedroom wall. Now a scuffling, now a bumping, a long, drawn-out scraping. “John, are you moving furniture in there? Again?” I call. The wall muffles his "yes" but does not filter out of his voice the tinge of excitement.
I am not upset by these impulsive rearrangements, just amused at their frequency. I remember my own feelings when I was 13 as he is——the startling, rapid evolution of body and mind and emotions, the need to invent and reinvent yourself through clothes, hairstyles and the arrangement and decor of your room.
Amid the smothered thuds I remember how much John longed for the privacy of his own domain, how he took me aside two years ago when he was sharing a room with his younger brother, Robert. “Mom,” he said, “can I please have a room of my own? I could use Jeff's. He won't mind.”
It was true that Jeff had graduated from college that past June and had flown from the nest. But would he mind if the place where he had spent countless hours growing up was yanked out from under him? Would he feel ousted from the family, barred from ever coming home again?
But beyond his feelings, would I mind? That room was so much a part of our lives over the many years that Jeff had been our only child. In it I taught him to read; we constructed architectural wonders out of blocks and set up elaborate desks. It was where Jeff perfected his artwork and struggled with college applications. It was the place where I told him a thousand stories and where we had a thousand talks.
As close as we were, though, the time came when Jeff need¬ed a door between us, a space of his own to grow in. The door to that bedroom would be shut most of the evening, behind it the muffled sound of a radio or the clack of his secondhand manual typewriter as he banged out one of his marathon letters.
I knew those letters to friends must have been filled with thoughts and opinions Jeff did not share with me. His life was spreading into areas that had nothing to do with home and fami¬ly. I no longer could — or should — know everything about him.
As conscientious parents, we strive to foster indepen¬dence. But when it happens, when you pause outside that door and look at the blank panels it is always a little unsettling.
It turned out that getting Jeff's permission to change the room was easy. "Of course," he said. "It would be selfish of me to hold on to it. " Then his voice softened. "Mom, I won't be living at home again — you know that. " Behind his glasses, his eyes were lit with all the love that has passed between us over the years. There were no doors closed here — they had all opened up again.
问题补充：Then John and I jumped into the task of cleaning out closets and drawers, dispatching all the things Jeff had left behind. Playbills, and snapshots, a withered boutonniere, old report cards that stung me with pride a stack of homemade thank-you cards from the second-grade Spanish class Jeff volunteered to teach.
Suddenly, amid all the upheaval my throat caught. There, in a pile of assorted sketches, was a pencil drawing of T-Bird — Jeff's beagle, dead these many years — curled up asleep. Jeff's rendering was so evocative I could almost feel the dear old dog's satiny warm ears. And in that room, with Jeff's things heaped around me, I could almost touch the little boy I knew was gone forever.
Unmistakable noises are coming through my bedroom wall.明确无误的噪音正通过我的卧室的墙上. Now a scuffling, now a bumping, a long, drawn-out scraping.现在,扭打,现在是戏弄,一长,旷日持久的刮. “John, are you moving furniture in there? “约翰,你朝着有家具吗? Again?” I call.再次?“我的呼吁. The wall muffles his "yes" but does not filter out of his voice the tinge of excitement.隔离墙模糊不清,他的“是”,但没有过滤他的声音兴奋的色彩了.
I am not upset by these impulsive rearrangements, just amused at their frequency.我不是毁于这些冲动的重排,就在它们的频率好笑. I remember my own feelings when I was 13 as he is——the startling, rapid evolution of body and mind and emotions, the need to invent and reinvent yourself through clothes, hairstyles and the arrangement and decor of your room.我记得我我13岁时,因为他是自己的感觉-是惊人的,快速发展的身心和情绪,需要通过发明和重塑服装,发型和安排和你的房间装饰自己.
Amid the smothered thuds I remember how much John longed for the privacy of his own domain, how he took me aside two years ago when he was sharing a room with his younger brother, Robert.在一片窒息thuds我记得多少约翰渴望在自己的领地的隐私,他如何把我拉到一边,两年前,他与分享他的弟弟,罗伯特空间. “Mom,” he said, “can I please have a room of my own? “妈妈,”他说,“我能请让我自己的房间? I could use Jeff's.我可以用杰夫. He won't mind.”他不会介意.“
It was true that Jeff had graduated from college that past June and had flown from the nest.的确,从杰夫大学,过去的6月和从巢飞行毕业. But would he mind if the place where he had spent countless hours growing up was yanked out from under him?但他是否介意的地方,他花了无数个小时的成长下,不再向他出去? Would he feel ousted from the family, barred from ever coming home again?他是否感到来自家庭赶*后,从不断回家再不可以呢?
But beyond his feelings, would I mind?但是,超出了他的感情,我会想到什么? That room was so much a part of our lives over the many years that Jeff had been our only child.这个房间是,与其说是对多年来我们生活的一部分,杰夫一直是我们唯一的孩子. In it I taught him to read; we constructed architectural wonders out of blocks and set up elaborate desks.在这我教他读,我们建筑的楼宇建筑奇观,并成立精心办公桌. It was where Jeff perfected his artwork and struggled with college applications.这是在杰夫完善他的艺术作品,具有大专应用苦苦挣扎. It was the place where I told him a thousand stories and where we had a thousand talks.这是地方,我告诉他一千故事和在那里我们有一千会谈.
As close as we were, though, the time came when Jeff need¬ed a door between us, a space of his own to grow in. The door to that bedroom would be shut most of the evening, behind it the muffled sound of a radio or the clack of his secondhand manual typewriter as he banged out one of his marathon letters.亲如我们,但是,在时机成熟时,杰夫需要我们之间¬男女门,是他自己的空间成长英寸据认为,将卧室的门关背后的傍晚大部分,一个低沉的声音电台或其二手手动打字机清脆,他弹了出来,他马拉松式的信件之一.
I knew those letters to friends must have been filled with thoughts and opinions Jeff did not share with me.我知道这些朋友一定有想法和意见,与杰夫没有与我分享充满信. His life was spreading into areas that had nothing to do with home and fami¬ly.他的一生是为传播领域无关,与家人和成长过程¬光年. I no longer could — or should — know everything about him.我不再可能-或应该-了解他的一切.
As conscientious parents, we strive to foster indepen¬dence.作为有良心的父母,我们努力营造indepen ¬登切. But when it happens, when you pause outside that door and look at the blank panels it is always a little unsettling.但是,当它发生,当您暂停外界的门,看看它总是有点不安空白面板.
It turned out that getting Jeff's permission to change the room was easy.原来,让杰夫的批准改变房间很容易. "Of course," he said. “当然,”他说. "It would be selfish of me to hold on to it. " Then his voice softened. “这将是自私的,我守住了.”然后他的声音软化. "Mom, I won't be living at home again — you know that. " Behind his glasses, his eyes were lit with all the love that has passed between us over the years. “妈妈,我不会再住在家里-你知道这一点.”他的眼镜后面,他的眼睛与所有我们之间已经通过多年来的爱点燃. There were no doors closed here — they had all opened up again.没有关起门来在这里-他们都打开了.
问题补充： 问题补充： Then John and I jumped into the task of cleaning out closets and drawers, dispatching all the things Jeff had left behind.然后,我和约翰跳入清理壁橱和抽屉的任务,调度所有的东西杰夫留下的. Playbills, and snapshots, a withered boutonniere, old report cards that stung me with pride a stack of homemade thank-you cards from the second-grade Spanish class Jeff volunteered to teach.节目单和照片,一枯胸花,旧的报告,刺痛自豪一叠自制感谢我卡你卡从二年级西班牙语课杰夫义务教.
Suddenly, amid all the upheaval my throat caught.突然间,在所有的动荡,我的喉咙里. There, in a pile of assorted sketches, was a pencil drawing of T-Bird — Jeff's beagle, dead these many years — curled up asleep.在那里,在草图的各类桩,是一个T铅笔画鸟-杰夫的小猎犬,死多年来-蜷睡着了. Jeff's rendering was so evocative I could almost feel the dear old dog's satiny warm ears.杰夫的渲染是如此动人,我几乎能够感觉到亲爱的老狗的光滑温暖的耳朵. And in that room, with Jeff's things heaped around me, I could almost touch the little boy I knew was gone forever.在这间杰夫的东西,堆在我身边,我几乎可以触摸的小男孩,我知道是一去不复返了.
提问者： 横滨口八口腐女 - 一级