Question

翻译文章

I’ve loved my mother’s desk since I was just tall enough to sit above the top of it. Mother sat writing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be a most wonderful thing in the world.
Years later, during her final illness, Mother kept different things for my sister and brother. “But the desk,” she said again, “is for Elizabeth.”
I never saw her angry, never saw her cry. I knew she loved me; she showed it action. But as a young girl, I wanted to have heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter.
They never happened. And a gulf opened between us. I was “too emotional（易动感的）”.But she lived “on the surface（表面）”.
As years passed, I had my own family. I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way she chose that she did forgive me.
My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally, peace — it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn’t be sure that the letter had even got to Mother. I only knew that I had written it, and I could stop trying to make her into someone she was not.
But the present of her desk told me, as she’d never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside — a photo of my father and a one-page letter, folded and refolded many times. It was my letter.
“In any way you choose, mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words.”

Answer 1

自从我长到足以坐到妈妈的书桌那么高时我就深深喜爱着这张桌子。这张妈妈总是在其上写作的桌子。我站在妈妈的椅子旁，凝视着那瓶墨水，那支钢笔和那堆白纸，我深以为写作是这世界上最美妙的事。
几年后，妈妈病重时，她为我们兄妹几人保留着不同的物品，“这张桌子，是留给伊丽莎白的。”她重申道。
我从没见过她发脾气，从没见过她哭泣。我知道她爱我，她总是以身作则。但是，当时还是一个小姑娘的我，更希望可以和她多几次母女心灵之间的交流。
可遗憾的是，这并没有实现。渐渐地，我们之间产生了隔阂。我太感性化，而她总是波澜不惊。
这么多年过去了，我已经有了自己的家庭，我爱我的母亲，感激她为我们这个幸福美满的家庭所做的一切。我小心翼翼地写信让她使我明白不管怎样她宽恕了我。
但是我的希望变成了失望，进而没了兴趣，最终归于平静，好像什么都没发生一样。我甚至都不确定那封信妈妈收到没有，我知道的只是我想过这样一封信，并试图使她发生一些些改变。
但是最近她的书桌似乎告诉我，而她一直没能亲口告诉我，她很高兴我可以选择写作为职业。我仔细地清理着这张书桌，突然发现其中放着一些纸张——一张我爸爸的照片和一页篇幅的信件，这封信被打开又折上，打开又折上，打开。。。那是我写得信。“妈妈，在这么多可以选择的方式中，您总是选择这一种方式，实际行动胜过千言万语。”

Answer 2

我爱我的母亲的办公桌上，因为我是身高不够，最重要的是坐在上面。母亲坐着写信。站在她的椅子上，看着墨水瓶，钢笔，和白色的纸，我决定写的行为必须是最美妙的事情在world.Years后，在她最后的疾病，母亲把不同的东西，我和妹妹兄弟。 “但书桌上，”她又说了一遍，“是伊丽莎白。”我从来没有见过她生气了，从来没有见过她哭。我知道她爱我，她表现出它的行动。但作为一个年轻的女孩，我想有心脏，心脏会谈和母亲之间daughter.They的从来没有发生过。我们之间的一个鸿沟，打开。我是“过于情绪化（易动感的）”。但她过着“表面上（表面）”。随着岁月的流逝，我有我自己的家庭。我爱我的母亲，感谢她为我们幸福的家庭。小心的话，我写信给她，问她让我知道以任何方式，她选择，她没有原谅me.My希望变成失望，然后兴趣不大，最后，和平 - 它似乎什么都没有发生。我也不能肯定，这封信甚至有母亲。我只知道我自己写的，我也不能阻止试图让她到她的人不是。可是现在她的办公桌前告诉我，她以前从来没有能够，她很高兴，写的是我的选择工作。我仔细地清洗干净的办公桌，发现里面的一些文件 - 照片，我的父亲和一个页的信，折叠和复性多次。这是我的信。“在您选择的任何方式，妈妈，你总是选择行为，事实胜于雄辩。”