評論
打印
That said, I woke up at 2:00 AM with a heavy sigh and a physical hunger so deep I didn't have any idea of how to satisfy it. The lunatic cat who lives in my house was howling mournfully for some reason and I told him, "I know exactly how you feel." I had to do something about my longing, so I got up, went to the kitchen in my nightgown, peeled a pound of potatoes, boiled them up, sliced them, fried them in butter, salted them generously and ate every bite of them—asking my body the whole while if it would please accept the satisfaction of a pound of fried potatoes in lieu of the fulfillment of lovemaking.
說是這么說，但我在凌晨兩點鐘醒過來，重重嘆了口氣，生理十分饑渴，不知如何滿足。住在我屋子里的瘋貓出于某種原因高聲哀號，我對它說："我懂你的感覺。"我必須想辦法處理自己的渴望，于是我起身，穿著睡衣去廚房，削一磅馬鈴薯，水煮后切片，以奶油炸過，撒足量的鹽，吃個精光——看看自己的身體能否接受一磅炸薯片的滿足感，以取代做愛。
My body replied, only after eating every bite of the food: "No deal, babe."
我的身體吃掉每一口食物后，只是回答："沒得討價還價。"
So I climbed back into bed, sighed in boredom and commenced to . . .
于是我爬回床上，無聊地嘆息，開始……
Well. A word about masturbation, if I may. Sometimes it can be a handy (forgive me) tool, but other times it can be so acutely unsatisfying that it only makes you feel worse in the end. After a year and half of celibacy, after a year and a half of calling my own name in my bed-built-for-one, I was getting a little sick of the sport. Still, tonight, in my restless state—what else could I do? The potatoes hadn't worked. So I had my way with myself yet again. As usu-al, my mind paged through its backlog of erotic files, looking for the right fantasy or memory that would help get the job done fastest. But nothing was really working tonight—not the fire-men, not the pirates, not that pervy old Bill Clinton standby scene that usually does the trick, not even the Victorian gentlemen crowding around me in their drawing room with their task force of nubile young maids. In the end, the only thing that would satisfy was when I reluct-antly admitted into my mind the idea of my good friend from Brazil climbing into this bed with me . . . on me . . .
嗯。請容我談?wù)勛晕堪伞Ｓ袝r是蠻便利的工具（請原諒我），有時卻令人無法滿足，過后只讓你覺得更糟。在一年半的單身生活后，在一年半躺在自己床上呼喚自己的名字之后，我已有些厭倦這項消遣。然而今晚，在我浮躁不安的狀態(tài)中——我還能怎么做？馬鈴薯并未奏效。因此我又一次以自己的方式處理自己。一如往常，我的腦子翻閱儲存的色情檔案，尋找適合的幻想或記憶幫忙盡快完事。但是今晚沒有任何東西奏效——消防隊員不行、海盜不行……通常一舉見效的那個以備不時之需的變態(tài)克林頓場景也不行，甚至在客廳里帶著一群年輕女侍的維多利亞紳士圍在我身邊，亦無法奏效。最后，唯一令人滿足的，是當我不太情愿地讓我的巴西好友和我一起爬上床的場景進入我的腦海時……
Then I slept. I woke to a quiet blue sky and an even quieter bedroom. Still feeling un-settled and unbalanced, I took a long stretch of my morning and chanted the entire 182 Sanskrit verses of the Gurugita—the great, purifying fundamental hymn of my Ashram in India. Then I meditated for an hour of bone-tingling stillness until I finally felt it again—that specific, constant, clear-sky, unrelated-to-anything, never-shifting, nameless and changeless perfection of my own happiness. That happiness which is better, truly, than anything I have ever experienced anywhere else on this earth, and that includes salty, buttery kisses and even saltier and more buttery potatoes.
而后我睡了。醒來時看見寂靜的藍天，以及更加寂靜的臥室。依然心緒不寧的我，花了一大段早晨時光，詠唱一百八十二節(jié)的古魯梵歌——我在印度道場學(xué)會的偉大、凈化人心的基本贊歌。然后我靜坐一個小時，直到再次感受到自身那種具體、忠誠、清澈、與任何事毫無關(guān)聯(lián)、永不更改、無以名之、永遠完美的快樂。此種快樂果真比我在世間任何地方經(jīng)歷的任何事情更為美好，包括咸味、奶油味的親吻以及更咸、更油的馬鈴薯。
I was so glad I had made the decision to stay alone. Eat, Pray, Love
我真高興決定自己獨自一人。
