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Ohthethingsthatishouldseeifihadthepowerofsightforjustthreedays这是开头...
Oh the things that i should see if i had the power of sight for just three days 这是开头
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If I Had the Power of Sight for Three Days
By-Helen Keller
All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours, but always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
Such stories set up thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?
Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry,” most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.
Most of us take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future, when we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty task, hardly aware of our listless attitude towards life.
The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sound hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we conscious of health until we are ill.
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.
How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter’s sleep I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently in a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have cool waters of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action fill the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light and the gift of sight is used only as mere convenience rather that as a means of adding fullness to life.
Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for three days!
译文：
我们都读过这样一些动人的故事，故事里主人公将不久于人世。长则一年，短则24小时。但是我们总是很想知道这个即将离开人世的人是决定怎样度过他最后的日子的。当然，我所指的是有权作出选择的自由人，不是那些活动范围受到严格限制的死囚。
这一类故事会使我们思考在类似的处境下，我们自己该做些什么？在那临终前的几个小时里我们会产生哪些联想？会有多少欣慰和遗憾呢？
有时我想，把每天都当作生命的最后一天来度过也不失为一个很好的生命法则。这种人生态度使人非常重视人生的价值。每一天我们都应该以和善的态度、充沛的精力和热情的欣赏来度过，而这些恰恰是在来日方长时往往被我们忽视的东西。当然，有这样一些人奉行享乐主义的座右铭——吃喝玩乐，但是大多数人却不能摆脱死亡来临的恐惧。
我们大多数人认为生命理所当然，我们明白总有一天我们会死去，但是我们常常把这一天看得非常遥远。当我们身体强壮时，死亡便成了难以相象的事情了。我们很少会考虑它，日子一天天过去，好像没有尽头。所以我们为琐事奔波，并没有意识到我们对待生活的态度是冷漠的。
我想我们在运用我们所有五官时恐怕也同样是冷漠的。只有聋子才珍惜听力，只有盲人才能认识到能见光明的幸运。对于那些成年致盲或失陪的人来说尤其如此。但是那些听力或视力从未遭受损失的人却很少充分利用这些幸运的能力，他们对所见所闻不关注、不欣赏。这与常说的不失去不懂得珍贵，不生病不知道健康可贵的道理是一样的。
我常想如果每一个人在他成年的早些时候，有几天成为了聋子或瞎子也不失为一件幸事。黑暗将使他更珍惜光明；沉寂将教他知道声音的乐趣。
有时我会试探我的非盲的朋友们，想知道他们看见了什么。最近我的一位非常要好的朋友来看我，她刚刚在树林里走了很长时间，我问她看见了什么。“没什么特别的，”她回答说。如不是我早已习惯了这样的回答，我也许不会轻易相信，因为很久以前我就相信了有眼人看不见什么。
我问自己在树林中走了一小时，怎么可能什么值得注意的东西都没有看到呢？而我一个盲人仅仅通过触摸就发现了数以百计的有趣的东西。我感到树叶的对称美，用手摸着白桦树光滑的树皮或是松树那粗糙的厚厚的树皮。春天里我满怀着希望触摸着树枝寻找新芽，那是大自然冬眼后醒来的第一个征象。我感到了花朵的可爱和茸茸的感觉，发现它层层叠叠地绽开着，大自然的神奇展现在我的面前。当我把手轻轻地放在一棵小树上，如果幸运的话，偶尔会感到歌唱的小鸟欢快的颤动。我会愉快地让清凉的溪水从手之间流过。对我来说，满地厚厚的松针和松软的草坪比奢华的波斯地毯更惹人喜爱。对我来说四季变换的景色如同一场动人心魄的不会完结的戏剧，剧中的人物动作从我的指尖流过。我的心不时在呐喊，带着对光明的渴望。既然仅仅通过触摸就能使我获得如此多的喜悦，那么光明定会展示更多美好的事物啊。可惜的是那些有眼睛的人分明看到很少，整个世界缤纷的色彩和万物的活动都被认为是理所当然。也许不珍惜已经拥有的，想得到还没有得到的是人的特点，但是在光明的世界里只把视觉用做一种方便的工具，而不是丰富生活的工具，这是令人多么遗憾的事情啊。
噢，假如我拥有三天光明，我将会看见多少事物啊！
If I Had the Power of Sight for Three Days
By-Helen Keller
All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours, but always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
Such stories set up thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?
Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry,” most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.
Most of us take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future, when we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty task, hardly aware of our listless attitude towards life.
The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sound hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we conscious of health until we are ill.
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.
How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter’s sleep I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently in a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have cool waters of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action fill the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light and the gift of sight is used only as mere convenience rather that as a means of adding fullness to life.
Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for three days!
译文：
我们都读过这样一些动人的故事，故事里主人公将不久于人世。长则一年，短则24小时。但是我们总是很想知道这个即将离开人世的人是决定怎样度过他最后的日子的。当然，我所指的是有权作出选择的自由人，不是那些活动范围受到严格限制的死囚。
这一类故事会使我们思考在类似的处境下，我们自己该做些什么？在那临终前的几个小时里我们会产生哪些联想？会有多少欣慰和遗憾呢？
有时我想，把每天都当作生命的最后一天来度过也不失为一个很好的生命法则。这种人生态度使人非常重视人生的价值。每一天我们都应该以和善的态度、充沛的精力和热情的欣赏来度过，而这些恰恰是在来日方长时往往被我们忽视的东西。当然，有这样一些人奉行享乐主义的座右铭——吃喝玩乐，但是大多数人却不能摆脱死亡来临的恐惧。
我们大多数人认为生命理所当然，我们明白总有一天我们会死去，但是我们常常把这一天看得非常遥远。当我们身体强壮时，死亡便成了难以相象的事情了。我们很少会考虑它，日子一天天过去，好像没有尽头。所以我们为琐事奔波，并没有意识到我们对待生活的态度是冷漠的。
我想我们在运用我们所有五官时恐怕也同样是冷漠的。只有聋子才珍惜听力，只有盲人才能认识到能见光明的幸运。对于那些成年致盲或失陪的人来说尤其如此。但是那些听力或视力从未遭受损失的人却很少充分利用这些幸运的能力，他们对所见所闻不关注、不欣赏。这与常说的不失去不懂得珍贵，不生病不知道健康可贵的道理是一样的。
我常想如果每一个人在他成年的早些时候，有几天成为了聋子或瞎子也不失为一件幸事。黑暗将使他更珍惜光明；沉寂将教他知道声音的乐趣。
有时我会试探我的非盲的朋友们，想知道他们看见了什么。最近我的一位非常要好的朋友来看我，她刚刚在树林里走了很长时间，我问她看见了什么。“没什么特别的，”她回答说。如不是我早已习惯了这样的回答，我也许不会轻易相信，因为很久以前我就相信了有眼人看不见什么。
我问自己在树林中走了一小时，怎么可能什么值得注意的东西都没有看到呢？而我一个盲人仅仅通过触摸就发现了数以百计的有趣的东西。我感到树叶的对称美，用手摸着白桦树光滑的树皮或是松树那粗糙的厚厚的树皮。春天里我满怀着希望触摸着树枝寻找新芽，那是大自然冬眼后醒来的第一个征象。我感到了花朵的可爱和茸茸的感觉，发现它层层叠叠地绽开着，大自然的神奇展现在我的面前。当我把手轻轻地放在一棵小树上，如果幸运的话，偶尔会感到歌唱的小鸟欢快的颤动。我会愉快地让清凉的溪水从手之间流过。对我来说，满地厚厚的松针和松软的草坪比奢华的波斯地毯更惹人喜爱。对我来说四季变换的景色如同一场动人心魄的不会完结的戏剧，剧中的人物动作从我的指尖流过。我的心不时在呐喊，带着对光明的渴望。既然仅仅通过触摸就能使我获得如此多的喜悦，那么光明定会展示更多美好的事物啊。可惜的是那些有眼睛的人分明看到很少，整个世界缤纷的色彩和万物的活动都被认为是理所当然。也许不珍惜已经拥有的，想得到还没有得到的是人的特点，但是在光明的世界里只把视觉用做一种方便的工具，而不是丰富生活的工具，这是令人多么遗憾的事情啊。
噢，假如我拥有三天光明，我将会看见多少事物啊！
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