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And I started to play. It was so beautiful. I was so caught up in how lovely I looked that at first I didn't worried about how I would sound. So it was a surprise when I hit the first wrong note and I realized something didn't sound quiet right. And then I hit another and another followed that. A chill started at the top of my head and began to trickle down. Yet I couldn't stop playing, as though my hands were bewitched. I kept thinking my fingers would adjust themselves back, like a train switching to the right track. I played this strange jumble through two repeats, the sour notes staying with me all the way to the end.
我開始演奏。感覺真是太美了。我光顧著想自己有多么可愛，所以剛開始就根本沒在意彈奏效果如何。彈錯了第一個音符才使我感到吃驚，知道出錯了。隨后就一錯再錯。一股涼氣從頭頂開始，然后一點點傳到全身。但我卻不能停止演奏，雙手猶如著了魔。我不停地想，我的手指會調整好，就像火車會被扳到正確的軌道上。整首曲子，包括兩遍復奏，就這樣亂亂糟糟、錯誤百出。
When I stood up, I discovered my legs were shaking. Maybe I had just been nervous and the audience, like Old Chong, had seen me go through the right motions and had not heard anything wrong at all. I swept my right foot out, went down on my knee, looked up and smiled. The room was quiet, except fot Old Chong, who was beaming and shouting, "Bravo! Bravo! Well done!" By then I saw my mother's face, her stricken face. The audience clapped weakly, and I walked back to my chair, with my whole face quivering as I tried not to cry, I heard a little boy whisper loudly to his mother. "That was awful," and the mother whispered "Well, she certainly tried."
我站起身時，發覺雙腿在顫抖，也許剛才太緊張了。觀眾們也許都跟老鐘一樣，只看見動作是正確的，壓根就聽不到彈錯的音符。我滑出右腳，屈膝，抬頭微笑。除了老鐘愉快地微笑和叫喊，“好哇！好哇！彈得好!”之外，大廳里一片寂靜。隨后我看見了母親痛苦不堪的面孔。觀眾敷衍著拍了幾下巴掌。我帶著抽搐的表情，強忍哭泣走回座位時，聽見一個小男孩大聲地對他媽媽耳語，“糟透了。”他母親低聲應道，“唉，可她盡力了。”
And now I realized how many people were in the audience, the whole world it seemed. I was aware of eyes burning into my back. I felt the shame of my mother and father as they sat stiffly throughout the rest of the show.
我這時才發現有那么多觀眾，好像全世界的人都來了。我能感覺到背后火辣辣的目光，我知道對不起父母，他們直挺挺地坐著，堅持看完了所有的演出。
We could have escaped during intermission. Pride and some strange sense of honor must have anchored my parents to their chairs. And so we watched it all: the eighteen-year-old boy with a fake moustache who did a magic show and juggled flaming hoops while riding a unicycle. The breasted girl with white makeup who sang from Madame Butterfly and got an honorable mention. And the eleven-year-old boy who won first prize playing a tricky violin song that sounded like a busy bee.
我們本可以趁幕間休息逃走。一定是驕傲和莫名的榮譽感把父母牢牢地釘在座位上。我們就這樣看完了余下的節目：一個戴著一撮假胡子的18歲男孩表演魔術，他騎著獨輪車耍弄一些燃燒著的圈環。一個臉畫得白白的豐滿女孩演唱《蝴蝶夫人》片段并因此得了提名獎。然后是獲得一等獎的11歲男孩演奏一首指法復雜的小提琴曲。那曲子聽起來好像是一只忙碌的蜜蜂在飛舞。
