2012年上外翻译真题及译文.docVIP

人生入秋，便开始被友人指着脑袋说：“呀，你怎么也有白发了？”听罢笑而不答，偶尔笑答一句：“因为头发里的色素都跑到稿纸上去了。” As I become middle-aged, my friends begin to point at my head and say “Ah, how come that you have white hairs?” Hearing this, I respond with a smile and silence; accidentally, I say with a beam “Because pigment of my hair found its way to writing paper.” 就这样，嘻嘻哈哈、糊里糊涂地翻过了生命的山脊，开始渐渐下坡来。或者再努力，往上登一登。 Like this, we joyfully transcend the peak of life without knowing it, and gradually descend the mountain. Or, we endeavor to ascend it. 对镜看白发，有时也会认真起来：这白发中的第一根是何时出现的？为了什么？思绪往往会超越时空，一下子回到了少年时——那次同母亲聊天，母亲背窗而坐，窗子敞开着，微风无声地轻轻掀动母亲的头发，忽见母亲的一根头发被吹立起来，在夕照里竟然银亮银亮，是一根白发！这根细细的白发在风里柔弱摇曳，却不肯倒下，好似对我召唤。我第一次看见母亲的白发，第一次强烈地感受到母亲也会老，这是多可怕的事啊！我禁不住过去扑在母亲怀里。母亲不知出了什么事，问我，用力想托我起来，我却紧紧抱住母亲，好似生怕她离去……事后，我一直没有告诉母亲这究竟为了什么。最浓烈的感情难以表达出来，最脆弱的感情只能珍藏在自己心里。如今，母亲已是满头白发。但初见她白发的感受却深刻难忘。那种人生感叹，那种凄然，那种无可奈何，正像我们无法把地上的落叶抛回树枝上去…… Looking at white hairs in the mirror, I sometimes get into serious thinking: When did the first strand of white hair appear and why? Thinking back/through time, I reminisce of childhood – I was chatting with my mother who sat against the window. Breeze, silently and gently, flitted through the open window and ruffled my mother’s hair. Suddenly, I beheld one of her hair erecting upward, dazzling brightly amidst the setting sunbeam/ray/light. The tender strand of white hair waved in the wind, reluctant to fall flat and as if beckoning to me. As I saw her first white hair, I came to the intense realization that my mother should (竟然) become old – what a horrifying fact/thing! I couldn’t help but jump to her bosom/embrace. Not knowing what happened, she asked me why and used all her strength to lift me up. I, however, held her tight, afraid of losing her. Afterwards, I never told mom the reason for it. The strongest emotion is hard to express and the tenderest one can be only tucked away in heart. Now, my mom is hoary-headed, but the memory of how I felt at the first sight of her white hair remains fresh. That sense of life, the ble