新视野大学英语2 unit3

My daughter smokes. While she is doing her homework, her feet on the bench in front of her and her calculator clicking out answers to her geometry problems, I am looking at the half-empty package of Camels tossed carelessly close at hand. I pick them up, take them into the kitchen, where the light is better, and study themtheyre filtered, for which I am grateful. My heart feels terrible. I want to weep. In fact, I do weep a little, standing there by the stove holding one of the instruments, so white, so precisely rolled, that could cause my daughters death. When she smoked Marlboros and Players I hardened myself against feeling so bad; nobody I knew ever smoked these brands. 我女儿抽烟。她做作业时，脚搁在前面的长凳上，计算器嗒嗒地跳出几何题的答案。我看着那包已抽了一半、她随意扔在手边的“骆驼”牌香烟。我拿起香烟，走到厨房里去仔细察看，那里的光线好一点谢天谢地，香烟是有过滤嘴的。我心里十分难过。我想哭。事实上，我确实哭过。我站在炉子旁边，手里捏着一支雪白的香烟，制作得非常精致，但那可是会致我女儿于死地的东西啊。当她抽“万宝路”及“普雷厄尔”牌香烟时，我硬起心肠，不让自己感到难过。我认识的人当中没有人抽这两种牌子的香烟。 She doesnt know this, but it was Camels that my father, her grandfather, smoked. But before he smoked cigarettes made by manufacturerswhen he was very young and very poor, with glowing eyeshe smoked Prince Albert tobacco in cigarettes he rolled himself.I remember the bright-red tobacco tin, with a picture of Queen Victorias partner, Prince Albert, dressed in a black dress coat and carrying a cane. 她不知道我父亲、也就是她外公生前抽的就是“骆驼”牌香烟。但是在他开始抽机制卷烟之前那时他很年轻、也很穷，眼睛炯炯有神他抽的是用“阿尔伯特亲王牌”烟丝自己手工卷的香烟。我还记得那鲜红的烟丝盒，上面有一张维多利亚女王丈夫阿尔伯特亲王的照片，他身穿黑色燕尾服，手里拿着一支手杖。 By the late forties and early fifties no one rolled his own anymore (and few women smoked) in my hometown of Eatonton, Georgia. The tobacco industry, coupled with Hollywood movies in which both male and female heroes smoked like chimneys, completely won over people like my father, who were hopelessly hooked by cigarettes. He never looked as fashionable as Prince Albert, though; he continued to look like a poor, overweight, hard-working colored man with too large a family, black, with a very white cigarette stuck in his mouth. 到40年代末、50年代初，我的家乡佐治亚州的伊腾顿已没有人再自己手工卷烟了（而且几乎没有女人抽烟）。烟草业，再加上好莱坞电影影片中的男女主角都是烟鬼把像我父亲这样的人完完全全争取了过去，他们无可救药地抽烟抽上了瘾。然而我父亲从来就没有像阿尔伯特亲王那样时髦过。他还是一个贫穷、过于肥胖、为养活一大家人而拼命干活的男人。他是黑人，嘴里却总叼着一支雪白的香烟。 I do not remember when he started to cough. Perhaps it was unnoticeable at first, a little coughing in the morning as he lit his first cigarette upon getting out of bed. By the time I was sixteen, my daughters age, his breath was a wheeze, embarrassing to hear; he could not climb stairs without resting every third or fourth step. It was not unusual for him to cough for an hour. My father died from the poor mans friend, pneumonia, one hard winter when his lung illnesses had left him low. I doubt he had much lung left at all, after coughing for so many years. He had so little breath that, during his last years, he was always leaning on something. I remembered once, at a family reunion, when my daughter was two, that my father picked her up for a minutelong enough forme to photograph thembut the effort was obvious. Near the very end of his life, and largely because he had no more lungs, he quit smoking. He gained a couple of pounds, but by then he was so slim that no one noticed. 我记不清父亲是什么时候开始咳嗽的。也许开始时并不明显，只是早晨一下床点燃第一支香烟时才有点微咳。到我16岁，也就是我女儿现在这般年纪时，他一呼吸就呼哧呼哧的，让人感到不安；他上楼时每走三、四级楼梯就得停下来休息一会儿，而且，他常常一连咳上一个小时。肺部的病痛把我父亲折磨得虚弱不堪，一个严冬，他死于被称为“穷人之友” 的疾病肺炎。他咳嗽了这么多年，我想他的肺部已没有什么完好的地方了。去世前几年，他的呼吸已经很虚弱了，他总得倚靠着某个东西。我记得有一次全家聚会，当时我女儿才两岁，他抱了她一会儿，好让我有时间给他俩拍张照片。但是很明显，他是费了好大劲儿的。生命行将结束前，他才戒了烟，主要是因为他的肺功能已极度受损。戒烟后他的体重增加了几磅，但当时他太瘦了，所以没人注意到这一点。When I travel to Third World countries I see many people like my father and daughter. There are large advertisement signs directed at them both: the tough, confident or fashionable older man, the beautiful, worldly young woman, both dragging away. In these poor countries, as in American inner cities and on reservations, money that should be spent for food goes instead to the tobacco companies; over time, people starve themselves of both food and air, effectively weakening and hooking their children, eventually killing themselves. I read in the newspaper and in my gardening magazine that the ends of cigarettes are so poisonous that if a baby swallows one, it is likely to die, and that the boiled water from a bunch of them makes an effective insecticide. 我到第三世界国家去旅行时，看到了许多像我父亲和女儿那样的人。到处都有针对他们这两类人的巨大广告牌：强壮、自信或时髦的成熟男人，以及漂亮、“世故”的年青女子，都在吞云吐雾。就像在美国的旧城区和印第安人的居留地上一样，在这些贫困的国家里，那些本应该花在食物上的钱却流进了烟草公司。久而久之，人们不但缺少食物，而且还缺少空气，这样不但大大地损害了孩子们的体质，还使他们染上了烟瘾，最终还会致他们于死地。我在报纸还有我订阅的园艺杂志上看到，烟蒂的毒性很强：一个婴儿如果吞下了一个烟蒂，就很有可能会死去，而沸水加一把烟蒂就成了很有效的杀虫剂。 There is a deep hurt that I feel as a mother. Some days it is a feeling of uselessness.I remember how carefully I ate when I was pregnant, how patiently I taught my daughter how to cross a street safely. For what, I sometimes wonder; so that she can struggle to breathe through most of her life feeling half her strength, and then die of self-poisoning, as her grandfather did? 作为母亲，我深深地感到痛苦。有时我有一种无能为力的感觉。我记得自己怀孕时，吃东西的时候是多么小心啊！之后在教她如何安全穿过马路时，又是多么耐心啊！ 有时我纳闷：自己这样做到底是为了什么？难道是为了她今后大半辈子有气无力地挣扎着呼吸，然后再像她外公那样自己把自己毒死吗？There is a quotation from a battered womens shelter that I especially like: Peace on earth begins at home. I believe everything does. I think of a quotation for people trying to stop smoking: Every home is a no-smoking zone. Smoking is a form of self-battering that also batters those who must sit by, occasionally joke or complain, and helplessly watch. I realize now that as a child I sat by, through the years, and literally watched my father kill himself: Surely one such victory in my family, for