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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.
我开始演奏。感觉真是太美了。我光顾着想自己有多么可爱，所以刚开始就根本没在意弹奏效果如何。弹错了第一个音符才使我感到吃惊，知道出错了。随后就一错再错。一股凉气从头顶开始，然后一点点传到全身。但我却不能停止演奏，双手犹如着了魔。我不停地想，我的手指会调整好，就像火车会被扳到正确的轨道上。整首曲子，包括两遍复奏，就这样乱乱糟糟、错误百出。
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."
我站起身时，发觉双腿在颤抖，也许刚才太紧张了。观众们也许都跟老钟一样，只看见动作是正确的，压根就听不到弹错的音符。我滑出右脚，屈膝，抬头微笑。除了老钟愉快地微笑和叫喊，“好哇！好哇！弹得好!”之外，大厅里一片寂静。随后我看见了母亲痛苦不堪的面孔。观众敷衍着拍了几下巴掌。我带着抽搐的表情，强忍哭泣走回座位时，听见一个小男孩大声地对他妈妈耳语，“糟透了。”他母亲低声应道，“唉，可她尽力了。”
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.
我这时才发现有那么多观众，好像全世界的人都来了。我能感觉到背后火辣辣的目光，我知道对不起父母，他们直挺挺地坐着，坚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.
我们本可以趁幕间休息逃走。一定是骄傲和莫名的荣誉感把父母牢牢地钉在座位上。我们就这样看完了余下的节目：一个戴着一撮假胡子的18岁男孩表演魔术，他骑着独轮车耍弄一些燃烧着的圈环。一个脸画得白白的丰满女孩演唱《蝴蝶夫人》片段并因此得了提名奖。然后是获得一等奖的11岁男孩演奏一首指法复杂的小提琴曲。那曲子听起来好像是一只忙碌的蜜蜂在飞舞。
