小学课文《争吵》意大利原文+<Cuore>(de Amicis)+《爱的教育》（夏丏尊译本） 阅读：15730回复：3
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今天我和克莱谛吵架，并不是因为他得了奖，我嫉妒他。今天早晨，“小石匠”病了，老师叫我替他抄写每月故事。我正抄着，坐在旁边的克莱谛忽然碰了一下我的胳膊肘，把墨水滴到笔记本上，本子被弄脏了，字迹也看不清了。我火了，骂了他一句。 他只微笑着说：“我不是故意的。” 我本来会相信他的。可是他的笑使我很不高兴。我想：“哼，得了奖，有什么了不起！”于是我想报复他。过了一会儿，我也碰了他一下，把他的本子也弄脏了。 克莱谛气得脸都红了。“你这是故意的！”说着就举起手来，正好被老师看见了，克莱谛忙缩回手去，说：“我在外边等你！” 我觉得很不安，气也全消了。我很后悔，不该那样做。克莱谛是个好人，他绝对不会是故意的。我想起那次去他家玩，他帮助父母亲干活、服侍生病的母亲的情形。还有他来我家的时候，我们全家都诚心诚意地欢迎他，父亲又是那么喜欢他的种种情形来。啊，要是我没有骂他，没有做对不起他的事该有多好！我又记起父亲“应该知错认错”的话来。但是，要我去向他承认错误，我却觉得太丢脸。我用眼角偷偷地看他，见他上衣肩上的线缝都开了，大概是因为扛多了柴的缘故吧。想到这里我觉得克莱谛很可爱，心里暗暗说“去向他认错吧”，可是“请原谅我”这几个字怎么也说不出来。 克莱谛不时用眼睛瞟我，从他的眼里表示出来的不是愤怒而是悲哀。 他又说：“我在外边等着你！”我回答说：“我也等着你！”可我心里想着父亲对我说过的话：“要是你错了，别人打你，你千万不要还手，只要防御就是了。” 我心想：“我只是防御，绝不还手。”毕竟是心里有事，老师讲的功课我一句也没有听进去。 终于挨到了放学。我在街上独自走着，听见克莱谛从后面跟上来。我手里拿着戒尺站住等他。他走近了我，我举戒尺。 “不，安利柯！”克莱谛微笑着用手拨开戒尺，温和地对我说：“让我们像从前那样做好朋友吧！” 我愣住了。我觉得有两只手搭在我的肩上。 “以后我们再不吵架了，好吗？” “再也不了！再也不了！”我回答说。然后我们就高高兴兴地分手了。 回到家里，我把这件事告诉了父亲，本想让父亲高兴一下，不料父亲把脸一沉，说：“既然你错了，就应该第一个伸过手去请他原谅，况且你不应该向一个比你高尚的朋友举起戒尺！”说着从我手里夺过戒尺，折成两段，向墙角扔去。 另一版本译文 (夏丏尊译？) 今天我和可莱谛相骂，并不是因为他受了奖品而嫉妒他，只是我的过失。我坐在他的近旁，正誊写这次每月例话《洛马格那的血》，——因为“小石匠”病了，我替他誊写。——他碰了一下我的臂膀，墨水把纸弄污了。我骂了他，他却微笑着说：“我不是故意如此的罗。”我是知道他的品格的，照理应该信任他，不再与他计较。可是他的微笑实在使我不快，我想：“这家伙受了奖品，就像煞有介事了哩！”于是忍不住也在他的臂膀上撞了一下，把他的习字帖也弄污了。可莱谛涨红了脸：“你是故意的！”说着擎起手来。恰巧先生把头回过来了，他缩住了手，“我在外面等着你！” 我难过了起来，怒气消了，觉得实在是自己不好。可莱谛不会故意做那样的事的，他本是好人。同时记起自己到可莱谛家里去望过他，把可莱谛在家劳动，服侍母亲的病的情形，以及他到我家里来的时候大家欢迎他，父亲看重他的事情，都一一记忆起来。自己想：我不说那样的话，不做那样对不住人的事，多么好啊！又想到父亲平日教训我的话来：“你觉得错了，就立刻谢罪！”可是谢罪总有些不情愿，觉得那样屈辱的事，无论如何是做不到的。我把眼睛向可莱谛横去，见他上衣的肩部已破了，大概是多背了柴的缘故吧。我见了这个，觉得可莱谛可爱。自己对自己说：“渐呀！谢罪吧！”但是口里总说不出“对你不起”的话来。可莱谛时时把眼斜过来看我，他那神情好像不是怒恼我，倒似在怜悯我呢。但是我因为要表示不怕他，仍用白眼回答他。 “我在外面等着你吧！”可莱谛反复着说。我答说，“好的！”忽然又把起父亲说：“如果人来加害，只要防御就好了，不要争斗！”我想：“我只是防御，不是战斗。”虽然如此，不知为什么心里总不好过，先生讲的一些都听不进去。终于，放课的时间到了，我走到街上，可莱谛在后面跟来。我擎着尺子站住，等可莱谛走近，就把尺子举起来。 “不！安利柯啊！”可莱谛说，一边微笑着用手把尺子撩开，且说：“我们再像从前一样大家和好吧！”我震栗了站着。忽然觉有人将手加在我的肩上，我被他抱住了。他吻着我，说： “相骂就此算了吧！好吗？” “算了！算了！”我回答他说，于是两人很要好地别去。 我到了家里，把这事告诉了父亲，意思要使父亲欢喜。不料父亲把脸板了起来，说： “你不是应该先向他谢罪的吗？这原是你的不是呢！”又说：“对比自己高尚的朋友，——而且对军人的儿子，你可以擎起尺子去打吗？”接着从我手中夺过尺子，折为两段，扔在一旁。 原版文章 http://it.wikisource.org/wiki/Cuore/Marzo/Litigio Eppure, no, non fu per invidia ch’egli abbia avuto il premio ed io no, che mi bisticciai con Coretti questa mattina. Non fu per invidia. Ma ebbi torto. Il maestro l’aveva messo accanto a me, io scrivevo sul mio quaderno di calligrafia: egli mi urtò col gomito e mi fece fare uno sgorbio e macchiare anche il racconto mensile, Sangue romagnolo, che dovevo copiare per il «muratorino» che è malato. Io m’arrabbiai e gli dissi una parolaccia. Egli mi rispose sorridendo: - Non l’ho fatto apposta. - Avrei dovuto credergli perché lo conosco; ma mi spiacque che sorridesse, e pensai: - Oh! adesso che ha avuto il premio, sarà montato in superbia! - e poco dopo, per vendicarmi, gli diedi un urtone che gli fece sciupare la pagina. Allora, tutto rosso dalla rabbia: - Tu sì che l’hai fatto apposta! - mi disse, e alzò la mano, - il maestro vide, - la ritirò. Ma soggiunse: - T’aspetto fuori! - Io rimasi male, la rabbia mi sbollì, mi pentii. No, Coretti non poteva averlo fatto apposta. È buono, pensai. Mi ricordai di quando l’avevo visto in casa sua, come lavorava, come assisteva sua madre malata, e poi che festa gli avevo fatto in casa mia, e come era piaciuto a mio padre. Quanto avrei dato per non avergli detto quella parola, per non avergli fatto quella villania! E pensavo al consiglio che m’avrebbe dato mio padre. - Hai torto? - Sì. - E allora domandagli scusa. - Ma questo io non osavo di farlo, avevo vergogna d’umiliarmi. Lo guardavo di sott’occhio, vedevo la sua maglia scucita alla spalla, forse perché aveva portato troppe legna, e sentivo che gli volevo bene, e mi dicevo: - Coraggio! - ma la parola - scusami - mi restava nella gola. Egli mi guardava di traverso, di tanto in tanto, e mi pareva più addolorato che arrabbiato. Ma allora anch’io lo guardavo bieco, per mostrargli che non avevo paura. Egli mi ripeté: - Ci rivedremo fuori! - Ed io: - Ci rivedremo fuori! - Ma pensavo a quello che mio padre m’aveva detto una volta: - Se hai torto difenditi; ma non battere! - Ed io dicevo tra me: - mi difenderò, ma non batterò. - Ma ero scontento, triste, non sentivo più il maestro. Infine, arrivò il momento d’uscire. Quando fui solo nella strada, vidi ch’egli mi seguitava. Mi fermai, e lo aspettai con la riga in mano. Egli s’avvicinò, io alzai la riga. - No, Enrico, - disse egli, col suo buon sorriso, facendo in là la riga con la mano, - torniamo amici come prima. - Io rimasi stupito un momento, e poi sentii come una mano che mi desse uno spintone nelle spalle, e mi trovai tra le sue braccia. Egli mi baciò e disse: - Mai più baruffe tra di noi, non è vero? - Mai più! mai più! - risposi. E ci separammo, contenti. Ma quando arrivai a casa e raccontai tutto a mio padre, credendo di fargli piacere, egli si rabbruscò e disse: - Dovevi esser tu il primo a tendergli la mano, poiché avevi torto. - Poi soggiunse: - Non dovevi alzar la riga sopra un compagno migliore di te, sopra il figliuolo d’un soldato! - E strappatami la riga di mano, la fece in due pezzi e la sbatté nel muro. 英译参考 THE QUARREL Monday, 26th. It was not out of envy, because he got the prize and I did not, that I quarrelled with Coretti this morning. No, it was not out of envy. Still I was in the wrong. The teacher had placed him beside me, and I was writ- ing in my copy-book when he jogged my elbow and made me blot and soil the monthly story, Blood of Romagna, which I was to copy for the "little mason," who is ill. I got angry, and said a rude word to him. He replied, with a smile, "I did not do it on pur- pose." I should have believed him, because I know him; but it displeased me that he should smile, and I thought: "Oh! now that he has had a prize, he has grown saucy!"; and a little while afterwards, to revenge myself, I gave him a jog which made him spoil his page. Then, all crimson with wrath, "You did that on purpose," he said to me, and raised his hand. The teacher saw it; he drew it back. But he added: "I shall wait for you outside !" I felt ill at ease; my wrath had simmered away; I repented. No; Coretti could not have done it intentionally. He is good, I thought. I recalled how I had seen him in his own home; how he had worked and helped his sick mother; and then how heartily he had been welcomed in my house; and how he had pleased my father. What would I not have given not to have said that word to him; not to have insulted him! And I thought of the advice that my father had given to me: "Have you done wrong?" "Yes." "Then beg his pardon." But this I did not dare to do; I was ashamed to humiliate myself. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, and I saw his coat ripped on the shoulder, perhaps because he had carried too much wood, and I felt that I loved him. I said to myself, "Courage!" But the words, "pardon me," stuck in my throat. He looked at me askance from time to time, but seemed more grieved than angry. And I looked crossly at him, to show him that I was not afraid. He repeated, "We shall meet outside !" And I said, 'We shall meet outside!" But I was thinking of what my father had once said to me, "If you are in the wrong, defend yourself, but do not fight." And I said to myself, "I will defend myself, but I will not fight/' But I was discontented, and I no longer listened to the master. At last the moment of dismissal arrived. When I was alone in the street I perceived that he was follow- ing me. I stopped and waited for him, ruler in hand. He came up; I raised my ruler. "No, Enrico," he said, with his kindly smile, wav- ing the ruler aside with his hand; "let us be friends again, as before." I stood still in amazement, and then I felt what seemed to be a push on my shoulders, and I found my- self in his arms. He kissed me, and said: "We'll have no more quarrels, will we?" "Never again! never again!" I replied. And we parted content. But when I went home, and told my father all about it, thinking to give him pleasure, his face clouded over, and he said : "You should have been the first to offer your hand, since you were in the wrong." Then he added, "You should not raise your ruler at a comrade who is better than you are at the son of a soldier! " ; and snatching the ruler from my hand, he broke it in two, and hurled it against the wall. cuore.PDF 爱的教育（夏丏尊译）.rar |
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