Amir agha, Rahim Khan sahib is quite ill. He coughs all day and I see blood on his sleeve when he wipes his mouth. He has lost much weight and I wish he would eat a little of the shorwa and rice that Farzana Jan cooks for him. But he only takes a bite or two and even that I think is out of courtesy to Farzana jan. I am so worried about this dear man I pray for him every day. He is leaving for Pakistan in a few days to consult some doctors there and, _Inshallah_, he will return with good news. But in my heart I fear for him. Farzana jan and I have told little Sohrab that Rahim Khan sahib is going to be well. What can we do? He is only ten and he adores Rahim Khan sahib. They have grown so close to each other. Rahim Khan sahib used to take him to the bazaar for balloons and biscuits but he is too weak for that now. I have been dreaming a lot lately, Amir agha. Some of them are nightmares, like hanged corpses rotting in soccer fields with bloodred grass. I wake up from those short of breath and sweaty. Mostly, though, I dream of good things, and praise Allah for that. I dream that Rahim Khan sahib will be well. I dream that my son will grow up to be a good person, a free person, and an important person. I dream that lawla flowers will bloom in the streets of Kabul again and rubab music will play in the samovar houses and kites will fly in the skies. And I dream that someday you.will return to Kabul to revisit the land of our childhood. If you do, you will find an old faithful friend waiting for you. May Allah be with you always. -Hassan I read the letter twice. I folded the note and looked at the photograph for another minute. I pocketed both. “How is he?” I asked. 阿米爾少爺，拉辛汗老爺病得很重。他整天咳嗽，他擦嘴的時候，我見到他袖子上有血跡。他消瘦得厲害，親愛的法莎娜給他做米飯和蔬菜湯，我希望他能多吃一些，但他總是隻吃一兩口，即使這樣，我相信也是出於他對親愛的法莎娜的尊重。我很爲這個令人敬愛的男人擔憂，每天爲他禱告。再過幾天，他就要去巴基斯坦看醫生了，奉安拉之名，他會帶着好消息歸來。親愛的法莎娜和我告訴索拉博，說拉辛汗老爺會好起來。我們能做什麼呢？他只有十歲，對拉辛汗老爺十分敬愛。他們兩個很要好。拉辛汗老爺過去經常帶他去市場，給他買氣球和餅乾，但他現在太虛弱了，再也做不來。 後來我常常做夢，阿米爾少爺。有些是噩夢，比如說夢到足球場上掛着腐爛的屍體，草地血跡斑斑。我會很快驚醒，喘着氣，渾身大汗。但是，我夢到的事情多數是美好的，爲此得感謝安拉。我夢到拉辛汗老爺身體好起來了。我夢到我的兒子長大成人，成爲一個好人，一個自由的人，還是一個重要人物呢。我夢到花兒再次在喀布爾街頭盛開，音樂再次在茶屋響起，風箏再次在天空飛翔。我夢到有朝一日。你會回到喀布爾，重訪這片我們兒時的土地。如果你回來，你會發現有個忠誠的老朋友在等着你。 願安拉永遠與你同在。哈桑 我將這封信看了兩次，把信紙摺好，拿起照片，又看了一分鐘。我把它們放進口袋，“他現在怎樣？”我問。
