(单词翻译:单击)
听力文本
Now, the VOA Special English program AMERICAN STORIES.
We present a special Christmas story called "The Gift of the Magi" by O. Henry. Here is Shep O'Neal with the story.
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it in the smallest pieces of money - pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by negotiating with the men at the market who sold vegetables and meat. Negotiating until one's face burned with the silent knowledge of being poor. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but sit down and cry. So Della cried. Which led to the thought that life is made up of little cries and smiles, with more little cries than smiles.
Della finished her crying and dried her face. She stood by the window and looked out unhappily at a gray cat walking along a gray fence in a gray back yard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only one dollar and eighty-seven cents to buy her husband Jim a gift. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result.
Jim earned twenty dollars a week, which does not go far. Expenses had been greater than she had expected. They always are. Many a happy hour she had spent planning to buy something nice for him. Something fine and rare -- something close to being worthy of the honor of belonging to Jim.
There was a tall glass mirror between the windows of the room. Suddenly Della turned from the window and stood before the glass mirror and looked at herself. Her eyes were shining, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Quickly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, Mister and Missus James Dillingham Young had two possessions which they valued. One was Jim's gold time piece, the watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair.
Had the Queen of Sheba lived in their building, Della would have let her hair hang out the window to dry just to reduce the value of the queen's jewels.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her, shining like a brown waterfall. It reached below her knees and made itself almost like a covering for her. And then quickly she put it up again. She stood still while a few tears fell on the floor.
She put on her coat and her old brown hat. With a quick motion and brightness still in her eyes, she danced out the door and down the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Madame Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." Della ran up the steps to the shop, out of breath.
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take your hat off and let us have a look at it."
Down came the beautiful brown waterfall of hair.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the hair with an experienced hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
The next two hours went by as if they had wings. Della looked in all the stores to choose a gift for Jim.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. It was a chain -- simple round rings of silver. It was perfect for Jim's gold watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be for him. It was like him. Quiet and with great value. She gave the shopkeeper twenty-one dollars and she hurried home with the eighty-seven cents that was left.
When Della arrived home she began to repair what was left of her hair. The hair had been ruined by her love and her desire to give a special gift. Repairing the damage was a very big job.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny round curls of hair that made her look wonderfully like a schoolboy. She looked at herself in the glass mirror long and carefully.
At seven o'clock that night the coffee was made and the pan on the back of the stove was hot and ready to cook the meat.
Jim was never late coming home from work. Della held the silver chain in her hand and sat near the door. Then she heard his step and she turned white for just a minute. She had a way of saying a little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in. He looked thin and very serious. Poor man, he was only twenty-two and he had to care for a wife. He needed a new coat and gloves to keep his hands warm.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a dog smelling a bird. His eyes were fixed upon Della. There was an expression in them that she could not read, and it frightened her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor fear, nor any of the feelings that she had been prepared for. He simply looked at her with a strange expression on his face. Della went to him.
"Jim, my love," she cried, "do not look at me that way. I had my hair cut and sold because I could not have lived through Christmas without giving you a gift. My hair will grow out again. I just had to do it. My hair grows very fast. Say 'Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let us be happy. You do not know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I have for you."
"You have cut off your hair?" asked Jim, slowly, as if he had not accepted the information even after his mind worked very hard.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Do you not like me just as well? I am the same person without my hair, right?
Jim looked about the room as if he were looking for something.
"You say your hair is gone?" he asked.
"You need not look for it," said Della. "It is sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It is Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it was cut for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the meat on, Jim?"
Jim seemed to awaken quickly and put his arms around Della. Then he took a package from his coat and threw it on the table.
"Do not make any mistake about me, Dell," he said. "I do not think there is any haircut that could make me like my girl any less. But if you will open that package you may see why you had me frightened at first."
White fingers quickly tore at the string and paper. There was a scream of joy; and then, alas! a change to tears and cries, requiring the man of the house to use all his skill to calm his wife.
For there were the combs -- the special set of objects to hold her hair that Della had wanted ever since she saw them in a shop window. Beautiful combs, made of shells, with jewels at the edge --just the color to wear in the beautiful hair that was no longer hers. They cost a lot of money, she knew, and her heart had wanted them without ever hoping to have them. And now, the beautiful combs were hers, but the hair that should have touched them was gone.
But she held the combs to herself, and soon she was able to look up with a smile and say, "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
Then Della jumped up like a little burned cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful gift. She happily held it out to him in her open hands. The silver chain seemed so bright.
"Isn't it wonderful, Jim? I looked all over town to find it. You will have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim fell on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let us put our Christmas gifts away and keep them a while. They are too nice to use just right now. I sold my gold watch to get the money to buy the set of combs for your hair. And now, why not put the meat on."
The magi were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Baby Jesus. They invented the art of giving Christmas gifts. Being wise, their gifts were wise ones. And here I have told you the story of two young people who most unwisely gave for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days, let it be said that of all who give gifts, these two were the wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
You have heard the American story "The Gift of the Magi." This story was written by O. Henry and adapted into Special English by Karen Leggett. Your storyteller was Shep O'Neal. The producer was Lawan Davis. I'm Shirley Griffith.
重点解析
1.be ready to 准备
For crying out loud! Aren't you ever going to be ready to go out?
哎呀，我的天啊！难道你不准备出去了吗？
2.put away 收起来
She finished putting the milk away and turned around
她把牛奶收好后转过身来。
3.step in 迈入
The elections were a step in the right direction, but there is a lot more to be done.
举行选举是迈出了正确的一步，但仍有很多事情要做。
4.She stood by the window and looked out unhappily at a gray cat walking along a gray fence in a gray back yard.
look out at 向外眺望
We love to sit on the floor and look out at the beach and the sea.
我们喜欢坐在大地板上，向外眺望海滩和大海。
5.Life is made up of little cries and smiles, with more little cries than smiles.
made up of 由…构成
Speech is made up of sound waves that vary in frequency and intensity.
语音是由不同频率和强度的声波组成的。
6.Jim looked about the room as if he were looking for something.
as if 好像
It sounds as if you have grown apart from Tom.
听起来好像你和汤姆之间产生了隔阂。
参考译文
现在，您收听到的是VOA慢速英语节目，美国故事。
我们为您带来了一个特殊的圣诞节故事，名叫《麦琪的礼物》，作者欧·亨利。演播谢普·奥尼尔。
一元八角七。全都在这儿了，其中六角是一分一分的铜板。这些零钱是从菜贩子和肉店老板那儿一分两分讨价还价省下来的，直到弄得自己羞愧难当，深感这种掂斤播两的交易实在丢人现眼。德拉反复数了三次，还是一元八角七，而第二天就是圣诞节了。
除了扑倒在那哭嚎之外，显然别无他途。于是德拉哭了起来，可精神上的感慨油然而生，生活就是哭泣、抽噎和微笑，尤以抽噎占统治地位。
这位家庭主妇擦干了脸，停止了哭泣，她站在窗前，一脸沮丧地看着一只灰猫沿着灰篱笆在灰色的后院里散步。明天就是圣诞节，她想给丈夫吉姆买件礼物，但她只有一元八角七。几个月来，她一直在节省每一分钱，却还是就这一点。
吉姆每周挣二十美元，二十美元实在经不起花，支出大于预算，总是如此。她花费了多少幸福的时日筹划着要送他一件可心的礼物，一件精致、珍奇、贵重的礼物——至少应有点儿配 得上吉姆所有的东西才成啊。
房间的两扇窗子之间有一面壁镜。突然，德拉从窗口旋风般地转过身来，站在壁镜前面。她两眼晶莹透亮，但不到二十秒钟，她的脸便失去了光彩。她急速地拆散头发，使之完全泼散开来。
现在，詹姆斯·迪林厄姆·杨夫妇俩各有一件特别引以为豪的东西。一件是吉姆的金表，是他祖父传给父亲，父亲又传给他的传家宝，另外一件则是德拉的秀发。
如果示巴女王住在他们那栋楼里，总有一天当德拉把头发披散下来，露出窗外晾干时，女王的珍宝也会黯然失色。
此时此刻，德拉的秀发泼撒在她的周围，微波起伏，闪耀光芒，有如那褐色的瀑布。她的美发长及膝下，仿佛是她的一件长袍。接着，她又神经质地赶紧把头发梳好。她一动不动地立在那儿，地板上溅落了一两滴眼泪。
她穿上那件褐色的旧外衣，戴上褐色的旧帽子，眼睛里残留着晶莹的泪花，裙子一摆，便飘出房门，下楼来到街上。
她走到一块招牌前停下来，上面写着：“索弗罗妮夫人，专营各式头发”。德拉气喘吁吁地奔上楼梯。
“你要买我的头发吗？”德拉问。
“我买头发，”夫人说。“揭掉帽子，让我看看发样。”
那褐色的瀑布泼撒了下来。
“二十美元，”夫人一边说，一边内行似地抓起头发。
“快给我钱，”德拉说。
接下来的两个小时犹如长了翅膀，飞掠而过。德拉搜寻各家店铺，为吉姆买礼物。
她终于找到了，那准是专为吉姆特制的，决非为别人。一条朴素的白金表链。而且它正配得上那只金表。她一见这条表链，就知道一定属于吉姆所有。
德拉回到家，她开始修剪剩下的头发。她的爱和她送特殊礼物的欲望把她的头发毁了。修补损失工程浩大。
不出四十分钟，她的头上布满了紧贴头皮的一绺绺小卷发，使她活像个逃学的小男孩。她在镜子里老盯着自己瞧，小心地照来照去。
七点钟，她煮好了咖啡，把煎锅置于热炉上，随时都可作肉排。
吉姆一贯准时回家。德拉将表链对叠握在手心，坐在门边。接着，她听见下面楼梯上响起了他的脚步声，她紧张得脸色失去了血色。她习惯于为了最简单的日常事物而默默祈祷，此刻，她悄声道：“求求上帝，让他觉得我还是漂亮的吧。”
门开了，吉姆步入，随手关上了门。他显得瘦削而又非常严肃。可怜的人儿，他才二十二岁，就挑起了家庭重担！他需要买件新大衣，连手套也没有呀。
吉姆站在屋里的门口边，纹丝不动地好像猎犬嗅到了鹌鹑的气味似的。他的两眼固定在德拉身上，其神情使她无法理解，令她毛骨悚然。既不是愤怒，也不是惊讶，又不是恐惧，根本不是她所预料的任何一种神情。他仅仅是面带这种神情死死地盯着德拉。德拉向他走过去。
“吉姆，亲爱的，”她喊道，“别那样盯着我。我把头发剪掉卖了，因为不送你一件礼物，我就没法过圣诞节。头发会再长起来，我非这么做不可。我的头发长得快极了。说‘恭贺圣诞’吧！吉姆，让我们快快乐乐的。你肯定猜不着我给你买了一件多么好的——多么美丽精致的礼物啊！”
“你已经把头发剪掉了？”吉姆吃力地问道，似乎他绞尽脑汁也没弄明白这明摆着的事实。
“剪掉卖了，”德拉说。“不管怎么说，你不也同样喜欢我吗？没了长发， 我还是我嘛，对吗？”
吉姆古怪地四下望望这房间，就好像他在找什么东西。
“你说你的头发没有了吗？”他问道。
“别找啦，”德拉说。“告诉你，我已经卖了——卖掉了，没有啦。这是圣诞前夜，好人儿。好好待我，这是为了你呀。也许我的头发数得清，”突然她特别温柔地接下去，“可谁也数不清我对你的恩爱啊。我把肉排做上吧，吉姆？”
吉姆好像从恍惚之中醒来，把德拉紧紧地搂在怀里。然后他从外套里拿出一个包裹，扔到桌子上。
“别对我产生误会，德拉，”他说道，“无论剪成什么样，我以为世上没有什么东西能减低一点点对我妻子的爱情。不过，你只消打开那包东西，就会明白刚才我为什么楞头楞脑了。”
白皙的手指灵巧地解开绳子，打开纸包。紧接着是欣喜若狂的尖叫，哎呀！突然又变成了泪水和哭泣，急需男主人千方百计的慰藉。
还是因为摆在桌上的梳子——全套梳子，包括两鬓用的，后面的，样样俱全。那是很久以前德拉在百老汇的一个橱窗里见过并羡慕得要死的东西。这些美妙的发梳，纯玳瑁做的，边上镶着珠宝——其色彩正好同她失去的美发相匹配。她明白，这套梳子实在太昂贵，对此，她仅仅是羡慕渴望，但从未想到过据为己有。
不过，她依然把发梳搂在胸前，过了好一阵子才抬起泪水迷蒙的双眼，微笑着说：“我的头发长得飞快，吉姆！”
随后，德拉活像一只被烫伤的小猫跳了起来，叫道，“喔！喔！”
吉姆还没有瞧见他美丽的礼物哩。她急不可耐地把手掌摊开，伸到他面前，那没有知觉的贵重金属似乎闪现着她的欢快和热忱。
“漂亮吗，吉姆？我搜遍了全城才找到了它。现在，你每天可以看一百次时间了。把表给我，我要看看它配在表上的样子。”
吉姆非但不按她的吩咐行事，反而倒在睡椅上，两手枕在头下，微微发笑。
“德拉，”他说，“让我们把圣诞礼物放在一边，待会儿吧。它们实在太好了，目前尚不宜用。我卖掉金表，换钱为你买了发梳。现在，你把肉排做上吧。”
麦琪是聪明人，聪明绝顶的人，他们把礼物带来送给出生在马槽里的耶稣。他们发明送圣诞礼物这玩艺儿。由于他们是聪明人，毫无疑问，他们的礼物也是聪明的礼物。在这儿，我已经笨拙地给你们介绍了住公寓套间的两个傻孩子不足为奇的平淡故事，他们极不明智地为了对方而牺牲了他们家最最宝贵的东西。不过，让我们对现今的聪明人说最后一句话，在一切馈赠礼品的人当中，那两个人是最聪明的。无论在任何地方，他们都是最聪明的人。他们就是麦琪。
您刚刚收听到的故事是《麦琪的礼物》，作者欧·亨利。凯伦·莱格特将它改编成VOA慢速英语节目。演播谢普·奥尼尔。制作拉万·戴维斯。我是雪莉·格里菲思。
译文为可可英语翻译，未经授权请勿转载！
