初中晨讀英語(yǔ)美文
初中晨讀英語(yǔ)美文
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初中晨讀英語(yǔ)美文：三個(gè)紐約
There are roughly three New Yorks.
There is, first, the New York of the man or
woman who was born here, who takes the city
for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence
as natural and inevitable. Second, there is
the New York of the commuter — the city that
is devoured by locusts each day and spat out
each night. Third, there is the New York of
the person who was born somewhere else and
came to New York in quest of something.
Of these three trembling cities the greatest
is the last — the city of final destination,
the city that is a goal.It is this third city
that accounts for New York’s high-strung disposition,
its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts,
and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give
the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it
solidarity and continuity, but the settlers
give it passion. And whether it is a farmer
arriving from Italy to set up a small grocery store
in a slum, or a young girl arriving from a small town
in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed
by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt
with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart,
it makes no difference: each embraces New York
with the intense excitement of first love,
each absorbs New York with the fresh eyes of
an adventurer, each generates heat and light to
dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company.
初中晨讀英語(yǔ)美文：飄忽的浮云
One of the major pleasures in life is appetite,
and one of our major duties should be to preserve it.
Appetite is the keenness of living;
it is one of the senses that tells you that
you are still curious to exist,
that you still have an edge on your longings
and want to bite into the world
and taste its multitudinous flavours and juices.
By appetite, of course,I don’t mean just the lust for food,
but any condition of unsatisfied desire,
any burning in the blood that proves you want more than you’ve got,
and that you haven’t yet used up your life.
Wilde said he felt sorry for those
who never got their heart’s desire,
but sorrier still for those who did.
Appetite, to me, is that state of wanting,
which keeps one’s expectations alive.
In wanting a peach, or a whisky,
or a particular texture or sound,
or to be with a particular friend.
For in this condition, of course,
I know that the object of desire is always at its most flawlessly perfect.
Which is why I would carry the preservation of appetite
to the extent of deliberate fasting,
simply because I think that appetite is too good to lose,
too precious to be bludgeoned into insensibility
by satiation and over-doing it.
Fasting is an act of homage to the majesty of appetite.
So I think we should arrange to give up our pleasures regularly
— our food, our friends, our lovers —
in order to preserve their intensity,
and the moment of coming back to them.
For this is the moment that
renews and refreshes both oneself and the thing one loves.
Sailors and travellers enjoyed this once,
and so did hunters, I suppose.
Part of the weariness of modern life may be that
we live too much on top of each other,
and are entertained and fed too regularly.
Too much of anything —
too much music, entertainment, happy snacks,
or time spent with one’s friends —
creates a kind of impotence of living
by which one can no longer hear,
or taste, or see, or love, or remember.
Life is short and precious,
and appetite is one of its guardians,
and loss of appetite is a sort of death.
So if we are to enjoy this short life
we should respect the divinity of appetite,
and keep it eager and not too much blunted.
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