Butterfly specimen— The motionless dead beauty.
I found a book called ‘The collector’ on the bookshelf. It is a rather old one, brought back from America by my grandfather, I suppose. I cleared off the dust and began to read it. The cover wasn’t well designed, never judge a book by its cover.
It was an amazing story, chilling, shocking and exquisitely told. It runs over you like a foam-rubber steam-roller. I was really fascinated by this horror story.
This story is about and entomologist who collects butterflies. He fell in love with Miranda— a girl in his neighborhood. And it has driven him mad. He kidnapped the girl and imprisoned her in his house in the country. He was hoping that the girl would get to know him better and see his good points since they never got to know each other in a ordinary way.
The poor girl suffered everyday in this luxury prison, with no sunlight and fresh air, just like the other butterflies this guy collected, begging him to let her go. If she was a beauty, just let her fly away. The whole thing went mad, just mad.
The collector only cared about Miranda’s looks and don’t even care about her mind, her soul. That’s what collectors do. He preferred to beauty which is dead, so he could pin it up and looks at it everyday, he never noticed how miserable they are.
It’s the same thing with Art. If you draw something, then it’s alive. But if you photograph it, it will be dead.
Miranda hated the collector. He couldn’t bare Miranda saying insulting things to him. So Miranda was nice to him, but he couldn’t stand Miranda losing all her dignity just to escape.
With an ambivalent feeling, he killed Miranda helplessly. For that he can’t afford the loss of his dignity or the loss of Miranda’s. Miranda turns out to be just like the other butterflies, a motionless dead beauty.
Miranda sacrificed all her pride and sanctity for freedom. Maybe people think its disgraceful to do anything for something you really wanted. But this book taught me a lesson.
Anything. Anything for freedom.
But what really killed Miranda? Selfishness. The collector’s selfishness. When your love for someone is your very own love, it’s not love anymore, it’s selfishness.
Sometimes we all have a desire of having something we really like. We want to keep it to ourselves, not sharing it with anyone else. Think about it. We dress our dogs the way we like, we force them to things we want them to do. We do love our dogs, but it turns out to be selfishness.
Just like the collector finds beauty and kills it, pin it on to a board and keep them in a dark drawer just for his own entertainment. Why don’t we leave beauty the way it is, let it bloom in the nature, instead of destroying it in our hands?
Let’s clear up our selfishness and let beauty remain alive. For the sake of our conscience, for the sake of art.
这是我第一次把我的英文作文翻译成中文,希望能对大家有帮助。
由于我中文翻译能力有限,可能意思和文采有些偏差,所以希望大家先读英文部分。
蝴蝶标本——死去的美丽
我在书架上发现了一本书,名字叫做《收藏家》,这是一本比较旧的书。我猜是我姥爷以前从美国带回来的。我担掉灰尘,开始读它,封面设计得不是很好,但我们不能以封面判断书的好坏。
这是一个了不起的故事,一个令人毛骨悚然、震惊、而且被生动地讲述的故事。它就像泡沫橡胶正气压路机一样缓缓从你身上跑过,我真的迷上了这个恐怖的故事。
这个故事是关于一个收集蝴蝶的昆虫学家,他爱上了邻居家的女孩米兰达,并且不能自拔。他绑架了这个女孩,把她囚禁在郊外的房子里。他希望米兰达能够更好的了解他,看到他的优点,因为在外面他们永远都不会有机会正常地认识。
可怜的女孩每天都在这个豪华的监狱里备受折磨,没有阳光,没有新鲜空气,就像这家伙收集的那些蝴蝶一样。她天天恳求他放走她,如果是蝴蝶,就让它飞好了。一切变的很疯狂,只是疯狂。
珍藏家这是看重外表,只在乎米兰达的美貌,却从不在乎她的想法,她的灵魂。这就是收藏家,他们更喜欢欣赏死亡的美丽,这样可以把它钉在木板上挂起来,每天都能看到,他们从不在意蝴蝶有多么痛苦。
艺术也是一样,如果你把一个东西画下来,它就是活得。但如果你把它有照相机照下来,它就变成死的了。
米兰达恨透了收藏家,收藏家不能忍受她说话对自己如此无礼。为了逃跑,米兰达又开始对他好起来。而收藏家等不能忍受米兰达丢失了所有的尊严,仅仅是为了逃跑。
带着一种矛盾的心理,他无奈地杀掉了米兰达。因为他既不能承受自己尊严的丢失,更不能承受米兰达尊严的丢失。米兰达变成了他的一只蝴蝶,毫无感情死去的美丽。
米兰达为了自由舍去了傲气和尊严,有人认为为了自己想要的东西不惜牺牲自己的尊严,这是可耻的。但这书告诉我:
任何事,任何代价,为了自由。
但到底是什么杀死了米兰达?是自私,收藏家的自私。当你对某个人或物的爱完全成为了自己独有的,它便不再是爱,而是自私。
有时候,我们所有人都想得到自己喜欢的东西,自己拥有,不与他人分享,这就是自私。想想看,我们按照自己的喜好为小狗着装,我们让它做我们想要的事。我们喜欢自己的狗,却变成了自私。
就像收藏家发现并杀害美丽的事物一样,钉在木板上,放在抽屉了,完全为了自己的娱乐。我们为什么不放开美丽的事物,让它们在自然中绽放,而不把它们在我们手中毁掉?
让我们收起自己的私心,让美丽永远存活。为了我们的良心,为了艺术。