Father Forgets 忘记 by W. Livingston Larned

Listen, son; I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek, and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room, alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily, I came to your bedside. These are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. 静听， 我儿： 我在你熟睡的时候对你 说， 一只小手掌， 在你的脸 下压皱， 金发贴在你潮湿的 额上。 我独自偷进你的房内，只几 分钟以前， 我坐在图书馆阅 报时， 一种窒息的懊悔情绪 扫荡我 全身， 我引咎的来到 你的床前。 孩儿， 这些是我所想的事： 我曾对你粗暴， 你整装入学的时候， 我责骂你， 因为你只用毛巾将脸一抹。

Listen, son;

I am saying this as you lie

asleep,

one little paw crumpled under

your cheek,

and the blond curls stickily wet

on your damp forehead.

I have stolen into your room,

alone.

Just a few minutes ago, as I sat

reading my paper in the library,

a stifling wave of remorse swept

over me.

Guiltily, I came to your bedside.

These are the things I was

thinking, son:

I had been cross to you.

I scolded you as you were

dressing for school because you

gave your face merely a dab

with a towel.

I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor. At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!“ and I frowned, and said in reply, "Hold your shoulders back!" Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road, I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before you boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive – and if you had to buy them, you’d be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father! 我因为你你没有擦鞋， 而让你劳动。 当你将东西掷在地板上时， 我愤怒的大声呵斥。 早餐时， 我也找错。 你溢出了东西， 你吞下你的食物， 你将肘放在桌上， 你在面包上抹黄油太厚。 当你开始游戏时， 我去赶火车的时候， 你转过来挥挥手嚷着： “ 爸爸，再见？” 我又皱起眉头来回答说： “ 将胸膛挺起来！” 你记得吗？ 后来， 当我在书房阅读时， 你怎样畏缩地进来， 眼中含着一种伤感的神色。 当我读完报纸抬起头来 一看， 对于你的搅扰很不耐烦， 你在门边犹豫。 “ 你要什么？” 我怒喝着。

I took you to task for not

cleaning your shoes.

I called out angrily when you

threw some of your things on

the floor.

At breakfast I found fault, too.

You spilled things.

You gulped down your food.

You put your elbows on the

table.

You spread butter too thick on

your bread.

And as you started off to play

and I made for my train, you

turned and waved a hand and

called, "Goodbye, Daddy!“

and I frowned, and said in reply,

"Hold your shoulders back!"

Then it began all over again in

the late afternoon.

As I came up the road, I spied

you, down on your knees,

playing marbles.

There were holes in your

stockings.

I humiliated you before you

boyfriends by marching you

ahead of me to the house.

Stockings were expensive –

and if you had to buy them,

you’d be more careful!

Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in, timidly, with a sort of, hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. "What is it you want?“ I snapped. You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart, and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs. Well, son, it was shortly afterwards, that my paper slipped from my hands, and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding - this was my reward to you, for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years. 你没有说什么， 但冲动的一跃， 跑过来将两臂抱住我的颈， 与我亲吻。 你的两个小臂有一种热 情， 上帝栽在你心中的花蕾， 即使置之不理， 也不会枯萎。 然后你走了。 踏击着楼梯， 上楼去了。 啊， 孩子， 在那不久以后， 报纸从我手中滑落， 一种可怕的痛苦的恐惧涌到 我的身上。 习惯向来对我做了什 么？ 找错的习惯， 责备的习惯—— 这是我对你做孩子的奖赏。

Do you remember, later, when I

was reading in the library, how

you came in, timidly, with a sort

of, hurt look in your eyes?

When I glanced up over my

paper, impatient at the

interruption, you hesitated at the

door.

"What is it you want?“

I snapped.

You said nothing, but ran across

in one tempestuous plunge, and

threw your arms around my

neck and kissed me,

and your small arms tightened

with an affection that God had

set blooming in your heart, and

which even neglect could not

wither.

And then you were gone,

pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly

afterwards, that my paper

slipped from my hands,

and a terrible sickening fear came over me.

What has habit been doing to

me?

The habit of finding fault, of

reprimanding - this was my

reward to you, for being a boy.

It was not that I did not love you;

it was that I expected too much

of youth.

I was measuring you by the

yardstick of my own years.

And there was so much that was good, and fine, and true, in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself, over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse, to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed! It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow, I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue, when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: "He is nothing but a boy – a little boy!" I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday, you were in your mother's arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked, too much, too much. 可是， 孩子， 并不是我不爱你， 而是因为我希望你—— 一个未成年的孩子太多， 那是用我自己的岁数的尺 码， 来衡量你的。 在你的品格之中， 有许多地方是真善美的。 你的小小的心， 是同在广大的群山那边的曙 光一样的大， 这个从你自然地冲动地跑进 来与我接吻可以证明。 孩儿， 今夜没有其他事了， 我在黑暗中到你的床边， 我羞愧的跪在那里！ 这是一种微弱的赎罪； 我知道如果我在你醒的时候 告诉你， 你不能了解这些事。 但明天我将是一个真正的父 亲了！ 我要与你亲密， 你哭我也哭， 你笑我也笑。 当批评的话来到嘴边， 我要咬紧我的舌头。 我要不断地说 :" 他不过是个孩子—— 一个小孩子！ " 我恐怕我已经把你想象 为一个成人， 但当我现在看你的时候， 孩儿， 倦疲地躺在床上， 我看见你还是个婴孩， 昨天你在你母亲怀中， 你把头依靠在她的肩上。 我要求的太多太多了！

And there was so much that

was good, and fine, and true, in

your character.

The little heart of you was as big

as the dawn itself, over the wide

hills.

This was shown by your

spontaneous impulse, to rush in

and kiss me good night.

Nothing else matters tonight,

son.

I have come to your bedside in

the darkness, and I have knelt

there, ashamed!

It is a feeble atonement;

I know you would not

understand these things

if I told them to you during your

waking hours.

But tomorrow, I will be a real

daddy!

I will chum with you,

and suffer when you suffer,

and laugh when you laugh.

I will bite my tongue, when

impatient words come.

I will keep saying as if it were a

ritual: "He is nothing but a boy –

a little boy!"

I am afraid I have visualized you

as a man. Yet as I see you now,

son, crumpled and weary in

your cot, I see that you are still

a baby. Yesterday, you were in

your mother's arms, your head

on her shoulder.

I have asked, too much,

too much.

PI ABILITY FOUNDATION “ Helping People; to help themselves !!! ” PRESENTED BY;

WE THANK YOU, FOR WATCHING !!! AND, PLEASE, DO HAVE A GREAT DAY !!!