悟空
歡迎大家來坐坐，聊聊
由於工作之便，我有機會接觸到加拿大的各類“高考”試卷。加拿大孩子的作文比起某些八股文來，文字雖不夠華麗，但是真情實感躍然紙上，完全是發自內心的感悟。以下摘錄並翻譯一個實例，不做任何評論，隻希望給讀者帶來啟發。
作文題：某些經曆標誌著成熟的開端
在我的一生中，父親從來沒有幹過一份工作。 1983 年，也就是我出生前的兩年，他挨家挨戶地推銷書籍，那是他最後一次工作。我不知道他為什麽一直做著一個“家庭夫男”，也許因為我母親是個醫生，能掙足夠的錢來養活一家子，或許還有其它的什麽原因。
不管父親出於什麽原因落入這般境地，我內心總是充滿了窘迫之感。人們從來不問：“你媽媽是做什麽的？”，我實在厭煩了一遍又一遍地回答：“我爸爸是個作家（反正那是一句謊話），但是我媽媽是名醫生！”
終於，在我上七年級的時候，我再也不願意為爸爸編造謊言了。在我想終止學鋼琴的時候我總算有了機會向父親表白一切。
“爸爸，我不喜歡彈鋼琴。”我非常消極的說道。
“有許多事情我們是不喜歡的，但是我們必須要做。”他回答道。
“我不想彈了。”我馬上反駁他。
“不行。”他回答得很堅決，但我也不絕不因威嚇而妥協。
“是的，爸爸，這是我的選擇，我不喜歡彈鋼琴，所以我就可以不彈。”
“不！你必須彈下去！你會明白我們都要做自己不喜歡做的事情，我們做是因為我們必須去做，因為我們從中可以學到很多東西。”
這時，我看到了一個向他表達我內心感受的機會，我逮住了這個機會。
“那好，爸爸，”我語氣中帶著一絲膚淺的傲氣，“我知道我許多朋友的爸爸不喜歡工作，但他們仍然在做，沒有選擇的餘地。但是你就呆在家裏玩電腦編程，看電視。你不出去找工作因為你不喜歡工作，你不想工作！”
談話到此結束。他沒有再哼一個字。他盯著我看了幾秒鍾，又將目光轉回到馬路上，不停地喘著粗氣。我知道我擊中要害了。
我為自己感到驕傲。這是我第一次在爭吵中讓爸爸閉上了嘴，並且被允許可以不再彈鋼琴了！以後的幾個星期裏，我們幾乎誰也不理誰。
五年以後，我上十二年級了。我選了文學課，但是我又不想上了，隻修十二年級的英文課。
“兒子，你不能那樣做，”爸爸說道，這次口氣溫和多了。
“為什麽，爸爸？我就是不想上了。”
“不能那樣。你能在這門課上學到很多。許多事情我們不想做，但是又不得不做。”
我五年前的那個回答又跑到我腦子裏來了，但是我覺得即便是那樣想都是不對的。
“其實，”我開始說到，“你是對的。也許我應該繼續上完這門課，它能幫助我練習寫作和閱讀。”
為什麽我沒有重複我以前的回答呢？我想這可能是我開始成熟的標誌。我爸爸或許在他的生活中犯了某些錯誤，一個人的生活目標絕不是最後連一個工作都沒有，但是防止他的兒子犯同樣的錯誤是他作為父親的責任。
每當我聽到貝多芬的“月光奏鳴曲”的時候，我真希望自己也能彈奏這首曲子。有一天我也許會重新彈起鋼琴。
不過我可以驕傲的說，數年以後我可以在爸爸走向死亡的時候，自豪並充滿愛意地望著病榻的父親並背誦“ 不要溫和地走進那個良夜”。
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【譯注】“ 不要溫和地走進那個良夜”為著名 威爾士詩人狄蘭·托馬斯 (Dylan Thomas) 所作。
托馬斯是繼奧登（ W.H. Auden ）以後英國的又一位重要詩人。托馬斯的詩作大體屬於超現實主義流派，其詩中所蘊含的內容具有夢幻色彩，通過對於意象的描繪堆砌，托馬斯所創造出來的詩境往往引人入勝。另外，托馬斯很注重押韻，其詩以善於朗誦聞名。除了寫詩，托馬斯也寫過一些短篇小說幾個電影劇本。 1953 年，托馬斯逝世，享年 39 歲。
“ 不要溫和地走進那個良夜” 作於其父逝世前病危期間。中文 翻譯：巫寧坤
不要溫和地走進那個良夜，
老年應當在日暮時燃燒咆哮；
怒斥，怒斥光明的消逝。
雖然智慧的人臨終時懂得黑暗有理，
因為他們的話沒有進發出閃電，他們
也並不溫和地走進那個良夜。
善良的人，當最後一浪過去，高呼他們脆弱的善行
可能曾會多麽光輝地在綠色的海灣裏舞蹈，
怒斥，怒斥光明的消逝。
狂暴的人抓住並歌唱過翱翔的太陽，
懂得，但為時太晚，他們使太陽在途中悲傷，
也並不溫和地走進那個良夜。
嚴肅的人，接近死亡，用炫目的視覺看出
失明的跟睛可以像流星一樣閃耀歡欣，
怒斥，恕斥光明的消逝。
您啊，我的父親．在那悲哀的高處．
現在用您的熱淚詛咒我，祝福我吧．我求您
不要溫和地走進那個良夜。
怒斥．怒斥光明的消逝。
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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INSTRUCTIONS: Using standard English, write a coherent, unified, multi-paragraph composition of approximately 300 words on the topic below. In your composition, you may apply any effective and appropriate method of development which includes any combination of exposition, persuasion, description, and narration.
Write a multi-paragraph composition on the topic below. In addressing the topic, you may draw support from the experiences of others or from any aspect of your life, for example, your reading and your experiences.
Topic: Certain experiences can mark the beginnings of maturity.
My father has never had a job in my life. His last job was a door-to-door book salesman in 1983, two years before my birth. I do not know why he has remained a “house-husband”; maybe it is because my mom is a doctor and makes enough money to support our family, or maybe there are other reasons.
Whatever the cause of his situation, it always filled me with embarrassment. People never ask, “What does your mom do?”, and I was sick of providing the same response, “My dad is an author,” (which is a lie, anyway), “.... but my mom is a doctor!”
The time came, when I was in grade 7, when I was completely frustrated with lying for my dad. The opportunity to inform him of this came when I was attempting to quit piano lessons.
“ Dad, I don’t like playing the piano,” I stated passively.
“ There’re lots of things we don’t like, but we have to do them,” he responded.
“ I want to quit,” I retorted quickly.
“ No,” he responded firmly. I refused to become intimated.
“ Yes, dad. It’s my choice. I don’t like doing it so I can quit.”
“ No! You’re not quitting! You’ll learn that we all do things that we don’t enjoy, but we do them because we have to, and because we learn from them.”
I saw my opportunity to let him know how I felt, and I took it.
“ Well, dad,” I stated, with a superficial importance, “I know a lot of my friends’ dad’s don’t like working , but they still do it! It’s not an option. But you stay at home programming computers for fun and watching TV and you don’t look for a job because you don’t like it. You don’t want to!”
That was the end of that conversation. He did not mutter another word. He stared at me for a few seconds and averted his eyes back to the road. His breathing was heavy. I knew I had made my point.
I felt proud – it was the first time I had been able to silence my dad in an argument, and I was allowed to quite piano! During the next few weeks, we hardly acknowledged each other.
5 years later, I am in grade 12. I am taking Literature 12, but I want to drop it and only take English 12.
“ Son, you can’t do that,” my dad said, less aggressively this time.
“ Dad, why? I want to.”
“ You can’t. You’ll learn a lot from this class. There’re things we do that we don’t always want to, we just have to.”
My previous response came to my head, but I felt wrong for even thinking it.
“ Actually,” I started, “you’re right. I probably should. It’ll help my writing and reading comprehension.
Why did I not repeat my first response? I think it may be a sign of my developing maturity. My dad may have made some mistakes in his life, and it should never be someone’s goal to end up without a job, but it’s his role – as a dad – to try to prevent his son from making the same mistakes as he did. Whenever I hear Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”, I wish I could play it myself. I may one day take up the piano again. I am proud to say, though, that in several years I will look at my father on his deathbed with love and pride, and be able to quote “Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night” by rote.
