殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(45)
After another thirty minutes, only four kites remained. And I was still flying. It seemed I could hardly make a wrong move, as if every gust of wind blew in my favor. I'd never felt so in command, so lucky It felt intoxicating. I didn't dare look up to the roof. Didn't dare take my eyes off the sky. I had to concentrate, play it smart. Another fifteen minutes and what had seemed like a laughable dream that morning had suddenly become reality: It was just me and the other guy. The blue kite.
又過了半個小時，只剩下四隻風箏了。我的風箏仍在飛翔，我的動作無懈可擊，彷彿陣陣寒風都照我的意思吹來。我從來沒有這般勝券在握，這麼幸運，太讓人興奮了!我不敢擡眼望向那屋頂，眼光不敢從天空移開，我得聚精會神，聰明地操控風箏。又過了十五分鐘，早上那個看起來十分好笑的夢突然之間觸手可及：只剩下我和另外一個傢伙了，那隻藍風箏。 
The tension in the air was as taut as the glass string I was tugging with my bloody hands. People were stomping their feet, clapping, whistling, chanting, "Boboresh! Boboresh!" Cut him! Cut him! I wondered if Baba's voice was one of them. music blasted. The smell of steamed mantu and fried pakora drifted from rooftops and open doors.
局勢緊張得如同我流血的手拉着的那條玻璃線。人們紛紛頓足、拍掌、尖叫、歡呼。"幹掉它!幹掉它!"我在想，爸爸會不會也在歡呼呢?音樂震耳欲聾，蒸饅頭和油炸菜餅的香味從屋頂和敞開的門戶飄出來。But all I heard--all I willed myself to hear--was the thudding of blood in my head. All I saw was the blue kite. All I smelled was victory. Salvation. Redemption. If Baba was wrong and there was a God like they said in school, then He'd let me win. I didn't know what the other guy was playing for, maybe just bragging rights. But this was my one chance to become someone who was looked at, not seen, listened to, not heard. If there was a God, He'd guide the winds, let them blow for me so that, with a tug of my string, I'd cut loose my pain, my longing. I'd endured too much, come too far. And suddenly, just like that, hope became knowledge. I was going to win. It was just a matter of when.
但我所能聽到的--我迫使自己聽到的--是腦袋裏血液奔流的聲音。我所看到的，只是那隻藍風箏。我所聞到的，只是勝利的味道。獲救。贖罪。如果爸爸是錯的，如果真像他們在學校說的，有那麼一位真主，那麼他會讓我贏得勝利。我不知道其他傢伙鬥風箏爲了什麼，也許是爲了在人前吹噓吧。但於我而言，這是惟一的機會，讓我可以成爲一個被注目而非僅僅被看到、被聆聽而非僅僅被聽到的人。倘若真主存在，他會引導風向，讓它助我成功，我一拉線，就能割斷我的痛苦，割斷我的渴求，我業已忍耐得太久，業已走得太遠。剎那之間，就這樣，我信心十足。我會贏。只是遲早的問題。
It turned out to be sooner than later. A gust of wind lifted my kite and I took advantage. Fed the string, pulled up. Looped my kite on top of the blue one. I held position. The blue kite knew it was in trouble. It was trying desperately to maneuver out of the jam, but I didn't let go. I held position. The crowd sensed the end was at hand. The chorus of "Cut him! Cut him!" grew louder, like Romans chanting for the gladiators to kill, kill!
結果比我預想的要快。一陣風拉昇了我的風箏，我佔據了有利的位置。我捲開線，讓它飛高。我的風箏轉了一個圈，飛到那隻藍色傢伙的上面，我穩住位置。藍風箏知道自己麻煩來了，它絕望地使出各種花招，試圖擺脫險境，但我不會放過它，我穩住位置。人羣知道勝負即將揭曉。"幹掉它!幹掉它!"的齊聲歡呼越來越響，彷彿羅馬人對着鬥士高喊"殺啊!殺啊!"。"You're almost there, Amir agha! Almost there!" Hassan was panting.
"你快贏了，阿米爾少爺，快贏了!"哈桑興奮得直喘氣。Then the moment came. I closed my eyes and loosened my grip on the string. It sliced my fingers again as the wind dragged it. And then... I didn't need to hear the crowd's roar to know I didn't need to see either. Hassan was screaming and his arm was wrapped around my neck.
那一刻來臨了。我合上雙眼，鬆開拉着線的手。寒風將風箏拉高，線又在我手指割開一個創口。接着……不用聽人羣歡呼我也知道，我也不用看。哈桑抱着我的脖子，不斷尖叫。"Bravo! Bravo, Amir agha!"
"太棒了!太棒了!阿米爾少爺!"I opened my eyes, saw the blue kite spinning wildly like a tire come loose from a speeding car. I blinked, tried to say something. Nothing came out. Suddenly I was hovering, looking down on myself from above. Black leather coat, red scarf, faded jeans. A thin boy, a little sallow, and a tad short for his twelve years. He had narrow shoulders and a hint of dark circles around his pale hazel eyes. The breeze rustled his light brown hair. He looked up to me and we smiled at each other.
我睜開眼睛，望見藍風箏猛然紮下，好像輪胎從高速行駛的轎車脫落。我眨眨眼，疲累不堪，想說些什麼，卻沒有說出來。突然間我騰空而起，從空中望着自己。黑色的皮衣，紅色的圍巾，褪色的牛仔褲。一個瘦弱的男孩，膚色微黃，身材對於十二歲的孩子來說顯得有些矮小。他肩膀窄小，黑色的眼圈圍着淡褐色的眼珠，微風吹起他淡棕色的頭髮。他擡頭望着我，我們相視微笑。
