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For years, I'd wished I could speak Italian—a language I find more beautiful than roses—but I could never make the practical justification for studying it. Why not just bone up on the French or Russian I'd already studied years ago? Or learn to speak Spanish, the better to help me communicate with millions of my fellow Americans? What was I going to do with Italian? It’s not like I was going to move there. It would be more practical to learn how to play the accordion.
多年來，我一直希望能講意大利語——這語言的美讓我覺得更甚于玫瑰——但我從來找不到實際的理由去學。何不去溫習多年前學過的法語或俄語？或者學西班牙語 ；這更能幫助我和成千上萬的美國同胞溝通？學意大利語干嘛？又不是要移居那里。不如學手風琴實際些。
But why must everything always have a practical application? I'd been such a diligent soldier for years—working, producing, never missing a deadline, taking care of my loved ones, my gums and my credit record, voting, etc. Is this lifetime supposed to be only about duty? In this dark period of loss, did I need any justification for learning Italian other than that it was the only thing I could imagine bringing me any pleasure right now? And it wasn't that outrageous a goal, anyway, to want to study a language. It's not like I was saying, at age thirty-two, "I want to become the principal ballerina for the New York City Ballet." Studying a language is something you can actually do. So I signed up for classes at one of those continuing education places (otherwise known as Night School for Divorced Ladies). My friends thought this was hilarious. My friend Nick asked, "Why are you studying Italian? So that—just in case Italy ever invades Ethiopia again, and is actually successful this time—you can brag about knowing a language that's spoken in two whole countries?"
但為什么每件事都必須是實用的？多年來，我一直是個勤勉的小兵——上班 ；總是準時完成工作，照顧我的親人、我的牙齦、我的信用紀錄，投票等。難道這輩子只是關乎盡到責任？在這黑暗的失落期，我還需要什么正當理由去學意大利語，除了這是我此刻所能想到能給自己帶來快樂的唯一事情？而無論如何，想學習語言也不是什么罪不可赦的目標。又不是像三十二歲的人說“我要成為紐約市立芭蕾舞團的首席女主角。”學習語言，是你真正做得到的事情，于是我報名參加某推廣教育（亦稱離婚女子夜校）的課程。我的朋友們覺得很逗趣 。我的朋友尼克問說 “你干嘛學意大利語？是不是為了——萬一意大利再次侵犯埃塞俄比亞，而且這回成功的話——你可以夸說你懂得這兩個國家的語言？”
But I loved it. Every word was a singing sparrow, a magic trick, a truffle for me. I would slosh home through the rain after class, draw a hot bath, and lie there in the bubbles reading the Italian dictionary aloud to myself, taking my mind off my divorce pressures and my heartache. The words made me laugh in delight. I started referring to my cell phone as il mio telefonino ("my teensy little telephone"). I became one of those annoying people who always say Ciao! Only I was extra annoying, since I would always explain where the word ciao comes from. (If you must know, it's an abbreviation of a phrase used by medieval Venetians as an intimate salutation: Sono il suo schiavo! Meaning: "I am your slave!") Just speaking these words made me feel sexy and happy. My divorce lawyer told me not to worry; she said she had one client (Korean by heritage) who, after a yucky divorce, legally changed her name to something Italian, just to feel sexy and happy again.
但我喜歡得很。每個字對我來說都是歌唱的鳥兒、魔術、松露。下課后，我冒雨回家，放熱水，躺在泡泡浴缸中向自己高聲朗誦意大利辭典，暫時忘卻離婚壓力和頭疼。那些詞語使我歡笑。我開始把我的手機叫作“il mio telefonino”（“我的迷你電話機 ”）。我成了那些老是說“Ciao!”的討厭鬼之一。只不過我還是超級討厭鬼，因為我老跟人說明該字的字源。（倘若你一定要知道的話，這是從中古世紀威尼斯人親密問候的用語“Sono il suo schiavo!”縮寫而成。意思是 ：“我是您的奴隸！”）光講這些字，就使我覺得又性感又快樂 。我的離婚律師叫我用不著擔心；她說有個客戶（韓裔）在不愉快的離婚后，把名字正式改為意大利名，只為了再一次覺得性感而快樂。
Maybe I would move to Italy, after all . . .
Eat, Pray, Love
或許最終我會搬去意大利……
