电影给我三天光明中的英文句子

① 《假如给我三天光明》英语概括

读后感《假如给我三天光明》读后感
读过《假如给我三天光明》这本书的朋友一定会被作者的坚强、奋斗、乐观与勇气深深感动。如果你还不了解作者海伦凯勒，那么就让我来向你作介绍吧。
海伦凯勒原来是位健康活泼的小女孩，在19个月大时，因一场急病导致失明、失聪和失语，从此小小的海伦凯勒变得暴躁、任性和孤独。直到七岁，，她在充满爱心与耐心、曾经接近失明、当时只有20岁的莎莉文老师费尽心思的引导下，走出了黑暗与孤寂，感受到了语言的神秘，领悟出了知识的神奇。从此，海伦凯勒求知若渴，凭着自己惊人的毅力，在莎莉文老师的教育和帮助下，以优等的成绩完成了哈佛大学四年的学习，成为人类历史上第一位获得文学学士的盲聋人。
“假如给我三天光明”，海伦凯勒将仔细端详自己的莎莉文老师、亲人、朋友，还有环视自己生活的环境；到森林进行一次远足，放纵一下自己的眼睛；到博物馆对世界的历史与未来、人类进步的奇观作匆忙一瞥；看看黎明时由黑夜变成白昼的动人奇迹；到剧院或电影院享受色彩、优美和动作的完美结合；浏览城市中令人敬畏的建筑艺术；漫步在大街、公园，瞧瞧万花筒般五光十色的景象……“我的眼睛不轻易放过一件小事，它争取密切关注它所看的的每一件事物。”“此后，我摸到每件物品，我的记忆都将鲜明地反应出那件物品是个什么样子。”
这三天对于海伦凯勒真的是奢望。而我们已经拥有了三千多天的光明，让我们反省一下，我们是否都充分利用这天赋的五官和四肢去感受大自然的美丽和生活的美好了吗？“善用你的眼睛吧，犹如明天你将遭到失明的灾难。”
的确，我们太幸运了，我们拥有美好的一切——健全的体魄、良好的学习环境、优秀的老师……从今天起一定抓紧每一分一秒，不要让光阴虚度，不要等失去了才懂得珍惜，要像海伦凯勒那样，不埋怨、不放弃，好好珍惜自己所拥有的，奋发学习，以微笑面对厄运，以顽强的毅力克服困难，以杰出的成就显示生命的价值

② 假如给我三天光明全文

假如给我三天光明

作者：海伦·凯勒（Helen Keller，1880年6月27日－1968年6月1日），美国著名的女作家、教育家、慈善家、社会活动家。在十九个月时因患急性胃充血、脑充血而被夺去视力和听力。1887年与莎莉文老师相遇。1899年6月考入哈佛大学拉德克利夫女子学院。1968年6月1日逝世，享年87岁，却有86年生活在无光、无声的世界里。在此时间里，她先后完成了14本著作。

我常想，要是每个人都会在成年早期突然失明、失聪几天，也许是好事。漆黑会令人更珍惜视力；静寂则能让人明白听到声音是多么美妙。我经常问视力正常的朋友看到些什么。最近，我问一位刚去过树林散步的朋友，在树林里看见什么?“没什么特别的。”她答。

“怎么可能呢?”我心想，“在树林里走了一个小时，怎么可能没见到值得注意的东西?”我虽然失明，但凭着触摸，也能发现数之不尽的有趣事物。

我能感到树叶柔嫩而对称，又喜欢用手抚摸白桦光滑的树干，或松树粗糙的树皮。春天时我顺着树枝摸过去，希望找到个新芽，找到大自然从冬眠醒来的征兆。有时，如果运气好，我只须把手轻搭在一棵小树上，便能感受到高歌小鸟的喜悦。

我常渴望能见到这些事物。既然光凭触摸已得到那么大的乐趣，那么，能看见就必然可发现更多更精彩美丽的东西。因此，我常想像，假如我有三天时间视力正常，最盼望看见什么? 我会把这三天分为三部分。

第一天

第一天，我要看人，他们的善良、温厚与友谊使我的生活值得一过。首先，我希望长久地凝视我亲爱的老师，安妮·莎莉文·梅西太太的面庞，当我还是个孩子的时候，她就来到了我面前，为我打开了外面的世界。

我将不仅要看到她面庞的轮廓，以便我能够将它珍藏在我的记忆中，而且还要研究她的容貌，发现她出自同情心的温柔和耐心的生动迹象，她正是以此来完成教育我的艰巨任务的。我希望从她的眼睛里看到能使她在困难面前站得稳的坚强性格，并且看到她那经常向我流露的、对于全人类的同情。

我不知道什么是透过“灵魂之窗”，即从眼睛看到朋友的内心。我只能用手指尖来“看”一个脸的轮廓。我能够发觉欢笑、悲哀和其他许多明显的情感。我是从感觉朋友的脸来认识他们的。但是，我不能靠触摸来真正描绘他们的个性。

当然，通过其他方法，通过他们向我表达的思想，通过他们向我显示出的任何动作，我对他们的个性也有所了解。但是我却不能对他们有较深的理解，而那种理解，我相信，通过看见他们，通过观看他们对种种被表达的思想和境况的反应，通过注意他们的眼神和脸色的反应，是可以获得的。

我身旁的朋友，我了解得很清楚，因为经过长年累月，他们已经将自己的各个方面揭示给了我；然而，对于偶然的朋友，我只有一个不完全的印象。这个印象还是从一次握手中，从我通过手指尖理解他们的嘴唇发出的字句中，或从他们在我手掌的轻轻划写中获得来的。

你们有视觉的人，可以通过观察对方微妙的面部表情，肌肉的颤动，手势的摇摆，迅速领悟对方所表达的意思的实质，这该是多么容易，多么令人心满意足啊！但是，你们可曾想到用你们的视觉，抓住一个人面部的外表特征，来透视一个朋友或者熟人的内心吗？

我还想问你们：能准确地描绘出五位好朋友的面容吗?你们有些人能够，但是很多人不能够。有过一次实验，我询问那些丈夫们，关于他们妻子眼睛的颜色，他们常常显得困窘，供认他们不知道。顺便说一下，妻子们还总是经常抱怨丈夫不注意自己的新服装、新帽子的颜色．以及家内摆设的变化。

有视觉的人，他们的眼睛不久便习惯了周围事物的常规，他们实际上仅仅注意令人惊奇的和壮观的事物。然而，即使他们观看最壮丽的奇观，眼睛都是懒洋洋的。法庭的记录每天都透露出“目击者”看得多么不准确。某一事件会被几个见证人以几种不同的方式“看见”。有的人比别人看得更多，但没有几个人看见他们视线以内一切事物。

啊，如果给我三天光明，我会看见多少东西啊!

第一天，将会是忙碌的一天。我将把我所有亲爱的朋友都叫来，长久地望着他们的脸，把他们内在美的外部迹像铭刻在我的心中。我也将会把目光停留在一个婴儿的脸上，以便能够捕捉到在生活冲突所致的个人意识尚未建立之前的那种渴望的、天真无邪的美。

我还要看看两头忠心爱犬的眼睛，一只是娇小的苏格兰犬，另一只是壮硕的大丹狗。在忙碌的第一天，我还将观察一下我的房间里简单的小东西，我要看看我脚下的小地毯的温暖颜色，墙壁上的画，将房子变成一个家的那些亲切的小玩意。

我的目光将会崇敬地落在我读过的盲文书籍上，然而那些能看的人们所读的印刷字体的书籍，会使我更加感兴趣。在我一生漫长的黑夜里，我读过的和人们读给我听的那些书，已经成为了一座辉煌的巨大灯塔，为我指示出了人生及心灵的最深的航道。

在能看见的第一天下午，我将到森林里进行一次远足，让我的眼睛陶醉在自然界的美丽之中，在几小时内，拼命吸取那经常展现在正常视力人面前的光辉灿烂的广阔奇观。

自森林郊游返回的途中，我要走在农庄附近的小路上，以便看看在田野耕作的马(也许我只能看到一台拖拉机)，看看紧靠着土地过活的悠然自得的人们，我将为光艳动人的落日奇景而祈祷。

当黄昏降临，我将由于凭借人为的光明看见外物而感到喜悦，当大自然宣告黑暗到来时，人类天才地创造了灯光，来延伸他的视力。在第一个有视觉的夜晚，我将睡不着，心中充满对于这一天的回忆。

第二天

第二天我会黎明即起，望着黑夜渐渐转变为白天。好好欣赏那动人心弦的奇景。我会满怀敬畏，静看太阳用灿烂光芒唤醒沉睡的大地。这天我要匆匆浏览地球的过去与现在，看看人类发展的历程。

我会去历史博物馆，在那里我会看到浓缩了的地球史——各人种和动物留下的生活痕迹。巨大的恐龙和剑齿象的化石，早在人类出现并以他短小的身材和有力的头脑征服动物王国以前，它们就漫游在地球上了。

博物馆还逼真地介绍了动物、人类，以及劳动工具的发展经过，人类使用这些工具，在这个行星上为自己创造了安全牢固的家；博物馆还介绍了自然史的其它无数方面。

我不知道，有多少本文的读者看到过那个吸引人的博物馆里所描绘的活着的动物的形形色色的样子。当然，许多人没有这个机会，但是，我相信许多有机会的人却没有利用它。在那里确实是使用你眼睛的好地方。有视觉的你可以在那里度过许多收益不浅的日子，然而我，借助于想像中的能看见的三大，仅能匆匆一瞥而过。

我的下一站将是首都艺术博物馆，因为它正像自然史博物馆显示了世界的物质外观那样，首都艺术博物馆显示了人类精神的无数个小侧面。

在整个人类历史阶段，人类对于艺术表现的强烈欲望几乎像对待食物、藏身处，以及生育繁殖一样迫切。在这里，在首都艺术博物馆巨大的展览厅里，埃及、希腊、罗马的精神在它们的艺术中表现出来，展现在我面前。

我通过手清楚地知道了古代尼罗河国度的诸神和女神。我抚摸了巴台农神庙中的复制品，感到了雅典冲锋战士有韵律的美。阿波罗、维纳斯、以及双翼胜利之神莎莫瑞丝都使我爱不释手。荷马的那副多瘤有须的面容对我来说是极其珍贵的，因为他也懂得什么叫失明。

我的手依依不舍地留恋罗马及后期的逼真的大理石雕刻，我的手抚摸遍了米开朗基罗的感人的英勇的摩西石雕像，我感知到罗丹的力量，我敬畏哥特人对于木刻的虔诚。

这些能够触摸的艺术品对我来讲，是极有意义的，然而，与其说它们是供人触摸的，毋宁说它们是供人观赏的，而我只能猜测那种我看不见的美。我能欣赏希腊花瓶的简朴的线条，但它的那些图案装饰我却看不到。

因此，这一天，给我光明的第二天，我将通过艺术来搜寻人类的灵魂。我会看见那些我凭借触摸所知道的东西。

更妙的是，整个壮丽的绘画世界将向我打开，从富有宁静的宗教色彩的意大利早期艺术及至带有狂想风格的现代派艺术。我将细心地观察拉斐尔、达芬奇、提香、伦勃朗的油画。我要饱览维洛内萨的温暖色彩，研究艾尔·格列科的奥秘，从科罗的绘画中重新观察大自然。

啊，你们有眼睛的人们竟能欣赏到历代艺术中这么丰富的意味和美！在我对这个艺术神殿的短暂的游览中，我一点儿也不能评论展开在我面前的那个伟大的艺术世界，我将只能得到一个肤浅的印象。艺术家们告诉我，为了达到深刻而真正的艺术鉴赏，一个人必须训练眼睛。

一个人必须通过经验学习判断线条、构图、形式和颜色的品质优劣。假如我有视觉从事这么使人着迷的研究，该是多么幸福啊！但是，我听说，对于你们有眼睛的许多人，艺术世界仍是个有待进一步探索的世界。

我十分勉强地离开了首都艺术博物馆，一它装纳着美的钥匙。但是，看得见的人们往往并不需要到首都艺术博物馆去寻找这把美的钥匙。同样的钥匙还在较小的博物馆中甚或在小图书馆书架上等待着。但是，在我假想的有视觉的有限时间里，我应当挑选一把钥匙，能在最短的时间内去开启藏有最大宝藏的地方。

我重见光明的第二晚，我要在剧院或电影院里度过。即使现在我也常常出席剧场的各种各样的演出，但是，剧情必须由一位同伴拼写在我手上。

然而，我多么想亲眼看看哈姆雷特的迷人的风采，或者穿着伊丽莎白时代鲜艳服饰的生气勃勃的弗尔斯塔夫！我多么想注视哈姆雷特的每一个优雅的动作，注视精神饱满的弗尔斯塔夫的大摇大摆！因为我只能看一场戏，这就使我感到非常为难，因为还有数十幕我想要看的戏剧。

你们有视觉，能看到你们喜爱的任何一幕戏。当你们观看一幕戏剧、一部电影或者任何一个场面时，我不知道，究竟有多少人对于使你们享受它的色彩、优美和动作的视觉的奇迹有所认识，并怀有感激之情呢？由于我生活在一个限于手触的范围里，我不能享受到有节奏的动作美。

但我只能模糊地想像一下巴荚洛娃的优美，虽然我知道一点律动的快感，因为我常常能在音乐震动地板时感觉到它的节拍。我能充分想像那有韵律的动作，一定是世界上最令人悦目的一种景象。我用手指抚摸大理石雕像的线条，就能够推断出几分。

如果这种静态美都能那么可爱，看到的动态美一定更加令人激动。我最珍贵的回忆之一就是，约瑟·杰佛逊让我在他又说又做地表演他所爱的里卜·万·温克时去摸他的脸庞和双手。

我多少能体会到一点戏剧世界，我永远不会忘记那一瞬间的快乐。但是，我多么渴望观看和倾听戏剧表演进行中对白和动作的相互作用啊！而你们看得见的人该能从中得到多少快乐啊！如果我能看到仅仅一场戏，我就会知道怎样在心中描绘出我用盲文字母读到或了解到的近百部戏剧的情节。

所以，在我虚构的重见光明的第二晚，我没有睡成，整晚都在欣赏戏剧文学。

第三天

下一天清晨，我将再一次迎接黎明，急于寻找新的喜悦，因为我相信，对于那些真正看得见的人，每天的黎明一定是一个永远重复的新的美景。依据我虚构的奇迹的期限，这将是我有视觉的第三天，也是最后一天。我将没有时间花费在遗憾和热望中，因为有太多的东西要去看。第一天，我奉献给了我有生命和无生命的朋友。

第二天，向我显示了人与自然的历史。今天，我将在当前的日常世界中度过，到为生活奔忙的人们经常去的地方去，而哪儿能像纽约一样找得到人们那么多的活动和那么多的状况呢？所以城市成了我的目的地。

我从我的家，长岛的佛拉斯特小而安静的郊区出发。这里，环绕着绿色草地。

树木和鲜花，有着整洁的小房子，到处是妇女儿童快乐的声音和活动，非常幸福，是城里劳动人民安谧的憩息地。我驱车驶过跨越伊斯特河上的钢制带状桥梁，对人脑的力量和独创性有了一个崭新的印象。忙碌的船只在河中嘎嘎急驶——高速飞驶的小艇，慢悠悠、喷着鼻息的拖船。

如果我今后还有看得见的日子，我要用许多时光来眺望这河中令人欢快的景象。我向前眺望，我的前面耸立着纽约——一个仿佛从神话的书页中搬下来的城市的奇异高楼。多么令人敬畏的建筑啊！这些灿烂的教堂塔尖，这些辽阔的石砌钢筑的河堤坡岸—一真像诸神为他们自己修建的一般。

这幅生动的画面是几百万人民每天生活的一部分。我不知道，有多少人会对它回头投去一瞥？只怕寥寥无几。对这个壮丽的景色，他们视而不见，因为这一切对他们是太熟悉了。我匆匆赶到那些庞大建筑物之———帝国大厦的顶端，因为不久以前，我在那里凭借我秘书的眼睛“俯视”过这座城市，我渴望把我的想像同现实作一比较。

我相信，展现在我面前的全部景色一定不会令我失望，因为它对我将是另一个世界的景色。此时，我开始周游这座城市。首先，我站在繁华的街角，只看看人，试图凭借对他们的观察去了解一下他们的生活。看到他们的笑颜，我感到快乐；看到他们的严肃的决定，我感到骄傲；看到他们的痛苦，我不禁充满同情。

我会沿着第五大道漫步，游目骋怀，双眼不聚焦于任何物体，而只是见到一片流淌不息、千变万化的色彩。我相信，妇女衣服颜色形成的斑斓彩云一定蔚为奇观，让人百看不厌。

然而如果我有视觉的话，我也许会像其他大多数妇女一样——对个别服装的时髦式样感到兴趣，而对大量的灿烂色彩不怎么注意。而且，我还确信，我将成为一位习惯难改的橱窗顾客，因为，观赏这些无数精美的陈列品一定是一种眼福。

从第五大街起，我作一番环城游览——到公园大道去，到贫民窟去，到工厂去，到孩子们玩耍的公园去，我还将参观外国人居住区，进行一次不出门的海外旅行。

我始终睁大眼睛注视幸福和悲惨的全部景像，以便能够深入调查，进一步了解人们是怎样工作和生活的。

我的心充满了人和物的形象。我的眼睛决不轻易放过一件小事，它争取密切关注它所看到的每一件事物。有些景像令人愉快，使人陶醉；但有些则是极其凄惨，令人伤感。对于后者，我绝不闭上我的双眼，因为它们也是生活的一部分。在它们面前闭上眼睛，就等于关闭了心房，关闭了思想。

我有视觉的第三天即将结束了。也许有很多重要而严肃的事情，需要我利用这剩下的几个小时去看，去做。但是，我担心在最后一个夜晚，我还会再次跑到剧院去，看一场热闹而有趣的戏剧，好领略一下人类心灵中的谐音。

到了午夜，我摆脱盲人苦境的短暂时刻就要结束了，永久的黑夜将再次向我迫近。在那短短的三天，我自然不能看到我想要看到的一切。只有在黑暗再次向我袭来之时，我才感到我丢下了多少东西没有见到。

然而，我的内心充满了甜蜜的回忆，使我很少有时间来懊悔。此后，我摸到每一件物品，我的记忆都将鲜明地反映出那件物品是个什么样子。

我的这一番如何度过重见光明的三天的简述，也许与你假设知道自己即将失明而为自己所做的安排不相一致。可是，我相信，假如你真的面临那种厄运，你的目光将会尽量投向以前从未曾见过的事物，并将它们储存在记忆中，为今后漫长的黑夜所用。

你将比以往更好地利用自己的眼睛。你所看到的每一件东西，对你都是那么珍贵，你的目光将饱览那出现在你视线之内的每一件物品。然后，你将真正看到，一个美的世界在你面前展开。

我想给有视力的人一个忠告：仿佛你明天就要失明，好好运用眼睛吧。对其他感官也应该这样。你要好好聆听人类悦耳的说话声、鸟儿的啁啾、交响乐团气势盛大的音乐，仿佛你明天就要失聪。要仔细触摸每一件物体，仿佛你明天就要失去触觉。要细嗅花的芬芳、细尝每一口食物，仿佛你明天就再也没有嗅觉和味觉。

让每一种感官都充分发挥功能吧，大自然赐予人类各种感觉能力，人类才能体验这个世界的欢乐与美，所以你应非常感激、喜悦。 不过，我相信，在各种感觉中，最令人开心的一定就是视觉。

(2)电影给我三天光明中的英文句子扩展阅读

《假如给我三天光明》前半部分主要写了海伦变成盲聋哑人后的生活。刚开始的海伦对于生活是失望的，用消极的思想去面对生活，情绪非常的暴躁，常常发脾气，扔东西。她感觉现实生活中没有爱等等，她是多么希望能重新得到光明。

在她父母的寻求下，帮海伦找到了一位老师——莎莉文老师，这位老师成为了海伦新生活的引导者，使海伦对生活重新充满了希望，充满了激情。在沙莉文老师耐心的指导下，海伦学会了阅读，认识了许多的字，也让她知道了爱，感受到了身边无处不在的爱。

随着时间的推移，海伦在老师和亲人的陪同下，体会到了许多不同的事物，比如：过圣诞节、拥抱海洋、体会秋季和冬天等等。后半部分则介绍了海伦的求学生涯。在海伦的求学生涯中，海伦遇到了许多的困难，但同时她也结识了许多的朋友等等。海伦在学习中，由于她的不屈不挠的精神，她学会了说话，写作。

虽然在这过程中海伦遇到了一些不开心的事情，但她并没有放弃。她的努力得到了回报，成功实现了她的大学梦想，进入了哈佛大学。在她的大学生活中由于生理上的缺陷，在繁重的功课中她非常的吃力，在老师的帮助以及她自己的努力下，最终她以优异的成绩大学毕业，还掌握了英语、法语、德语、拉丁语和希腊语五种语言。

海伦·凯勒被评为20世纪美国的十大偶像之一是当之无愧的，这本书《假如给我三天光明》是伟大的经历和平凡的故事完美的结合。海伦·凯勒堪称人类意志力的伟大偶像。——美国《时讯周刊》

③ 请提供假如给我三天光明，麦田里的守望者，老人与海的原版英文经典语句

最喜欢这一段

Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.
by Hellen Keller

以下是全文

假如给我三天光明(海伦·凯勒 Helen Keller)

All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?

Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of "Eat, drink, and be merry," but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.

In stories the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. he becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It ahs often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.

Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.

The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in alt life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.

I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time ring his early alt life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would tech him the joys of sound.

Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friends who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed.. "Nothing in particular, " she replied. I might have been increlous had I not been accustomed to such reposes, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.
How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In the spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool waters of a brook rush thought my open finger. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the page ant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.

At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. the panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere conveniences rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.

If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in "How to Use Your Eyes". The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.

Perhaps I can best illustrate by imagining what I should most like to see if I were given the use of my eyes, say, for just three days. And while I am imagining, suppose you, too, set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the on-coming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?

I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.

If, by some miracle, I were granted three seeing days, to be followed by a relapse into darkness, I should divide the period into three parts.

The First Day

On the first day, I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult task of my ecation. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.

I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that "Window of the soul", the eye. I can only "see" through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them, through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.

Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of casual friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.

How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friends or acquaintance/ Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?

For instance can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements.

The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately "eyewitnesses" see. A given event will be "seen" in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.

Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!

The first day would be a busy one. I should call to me all my dear friends and look long into their faces, imprinting upon my mind the outward evidences of the beauty that is within them. I should let my eyes rest, too, on the face of a baby, so that I could catch a vision of the eager, innocent beauty which precedes the indivial's consciousness of the conflicts which life develops.

And I should like to look into the loyal, trusting eyes of my dogs - the grave, canny little Scottie, Darkie, and the stalwart, understanding Great Dane, Helga, whose warm, tender , and playful friendships are so comforting to me.
On that busy first day I should also view the small simple things of my home. I want to see the warm colors in the rugs under my feet, the pictures on the walls, the intimate trifles that transform a house into home. My eyes would rest respectfully on the books in raised type which I have read, but they would be more eagerly interested in the printed books which seeing people can read, for ring the long night of my life the books I have read and those which have been read to me have built themselves into a great shining lighthouse, revealing to me the deepest channels of human life and the human spirit.

In the afternoon of that first seeing day. I should take a long walk in the woods and intoxicate my eyes on the beauties of the world of Nature trying desperately to absorb in a few hours the vast splendor which is constantly unfolding itself to those who can see. On the way home from my woodland jaunt my path would lie near a farm so that I might see the patient horses ploughing in the field 9perhaps I should see only a tractor!) and the serene content of men living close to the soil. And I should pray for the glory of a colorful sunset.

When sk had fallen, I should experience the double delight of being able to see by artificial light which the genius of man has created to extend the power of his sight when Nature decrees darkness.

In the night of that first day of sight, I should not be able to sleep, so full would be my mind of the memories of the day.

The Second Day

The next day - the second day of sight - I should arise with the dawn and see the thrilling miracle by which night is transformed into day. I should behold with awe the magnificent panorama of light with which the sun awakens the sleeping earth.

This day I should devote to a hasty glimpse of the world, past and present. I should want to see the pageant of man's progress, the kaleidoscope of the ages. How can so much be compressed into one day? Through the museums, of course. Often I have visited the New York Museum of Natural History to touch with my hands many of the objects there exhibited, but I have longed to see with my eyes the condensed history of the earth and its inhabitants displayed there - animals and the races of men pictured in their native environment; gigantic carcasses of dinosaurs and mastodons which roamed the earth long before man appeared, with his tiny stature and powerful brain, to conquer the animal kingdom; realistic presentations of the processes of development in animals, in man, and in the implements which man has used to fashion for himself a secure home on this planet; and a thousand and one other aspects of natural history.

I wonder how many readers of this article have viewed this panorama of the face of living things as pictured in that inspiring museum. Many, of course, have not had the opportunity, but I am sure that many who have had the opportunity have not made use of it. there, indeed, is a place to use your eyes. You who see can spend many fruitful days there, but I with my imaginary three days of sight, could only take a hasty glimpse, and pass on.

My next stop would be the Metropolitan Museum of Art, for just as the Museum of Natural History reveals the material aspects of the world, so does the Metropolitan show the myriad facets of the human spirit. Throughout the history of humanity the urge to artistic expression has been almost as powerful as the urge for food, shelter, and procreation. And here , in the vast chambers of the Metropolitan Museum, is unfolded before me the spirit of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, as expressed in their art. I know well through my hands the sculptured gods and goddesses of the ancient Nile-land. I have felt copies of Parthenon friezes, and I have sensed the rhythmic beauty of charging Athenian warriors. Apollos and Venuses and the Winged Victory of Samothrace are friends of my finger tips. The gnarled, bearded features of Homer are dear to me, for he, too, knew blindness.

My hands have lingered upon the living marble of roman sculpture as well as that of later generations. I have passed my hands over a plaster cast of Michelangelo's inspiring and heroic Moses; I have sensed the power of Rodin; I have been awed by the devoted spirit of Gothic wood carving. These arts which can be touched have meaning for me, but even they were meant to be seen rather than felt, and I can only guess at the beauty which remains hidden from me. I can admire the simple lines of a Greek vase, but its figured decorations are lost to me.

So on this, my second day of sight, I should try to probe into the soul of man through this art. The things I knew through touch I should now see. More splendid still, the whole magnificent world of painting would be opened to me, from the Italian Primitives, with their serene religious devotion, to the Moderns, with their feverish visions. I should look deep into the canvases of Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, Rembrandt. I should want to feast my eyes upon the warm colors of Veronese, study the mysteries of E1 Greco, catch a new vision of Nature from Corot. Oh, there is so much rich meaning and beauty in the art of the ages for you who have eyes to see!

Upon my short visit to this temple of art I should not be able to review a fraction of that great world of art which is open to you. I should be able to get only a superficial impression. Artists tell me that for deep and true appreciation of art one must ecated the eye. One must learn through experience to weigh the merits of line, of composition, of form and color. If I had eyes, how happily would I embark upon so fascinating a study! Yet I am told that, to many of you who have eyes to see, the world of art is a dark night, unexplored and unilluminated.

It would be with extreme reluctance that I should leave the Metropolitan Museum, which contains the key to beauty -- a beauty so neglected. Seeing persons, however, do not need a metropolitan to find this key to beauty. The same key lies waiting in smaller museums, and in books on the shelves of even small libraries. But naturally, in my limited time of imaginary sight, I should choose the place where the key unlocks the greatest treasures in the shortest time.
The evening of my second day of sight I should spend at a theatre or at the movies. Even now I often attend theatrical performances of all sorts, but the action of the play must be spelled into my hand by a companion. But how I should like to see with my own eyes the fascinating figure of Hamlet, or the gusty Falstaff amid colorful Elizabethan trappings! How I should like to follow each movement of the graceful Hamlet, each strut of the hearty Falstaff! And since I could see only one play, I should be confronted by a many-horned dilemma, for there are scores of plays I should want to see. You who have eyes can see any you like. How many of you, I wonder, when you gaze at a play, a movie, or any spectacle, realize and give thanks for the miracle of sight which enables you to enjoy its color , grace, and movement?

I cannot enjoy the beauty of rhythmic movement except in a sphere restricted to the touch of my hands. I can vision only dimly the grace of a Pavlowa, although I know something of the delight of rhythm, for often I can sense the beat of music as it vibrates through the floor. I can well imagine that cadenced motion must be one of the most pleasing sights in the world. I have been able to gather something of this by tracing with my fingers the lines in sculptured marble; if this static grace can be so lovely, how much more acute must be the thrill of seeing grace in motion.

One of my dearest memories is of the time when Joseph Jefferson allowed me to touch his face and hands as he went through some of the gestures and speeches of his beloved Rip Van Winkle. I was able to catch thus a meager glimpse of the world of drama, and I shall never forget the delight of that moment. But, oh, how much I must miss, and how much pleasure you seeing ones can derive from watching and hearing the interplay of speech and movement in the unfolding of a dramatic performance! If I could see only one play, I should know how to picture in my mind the action of a hundred plays which I have read or had transferred to me through the medium of the manual alphabet.

④ 假如给我三天光明中的名言，要中英对照的

Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.
…
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time ring his early alt life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed.. "Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might have been increlous had I not been accustomed to such reposes, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.
How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In the spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool waters of a brook rush through my open finger. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.
Helen Keller: Three Days to See

但是,我们大多数人把生活认为是理所当然的。我们知道,某一天我们一定会死,但通常我们把那天想象在遥远的将来。当我们心宽体健时,死亡几乎是不可想象的。我们很少想到它。时日在无穷的展望中延展着。于是我们干着琐碎的事情,几乎意识不到我们对生活的倦怠态度。
…
我常想如果每一个人都看不见和听不到的早些时候,有几天在他成年。黑暗将使他更珍惜光明;沉寂将教他知道声音的乐趣。
我不时地询问过我的能看见东西的朋友们,以了解他们看到什么。最近,我的一个很好的朋友来看我刚从一片森林里散步许久,我问她看到了什么…“没什么特别的。”她回答。我可能不若非我已经习惯了这样的回答,安放在,因为很久以前我就相信的。
怎么可能,我问自己,在树林中走了一个小时而没有看到任何值得注意的吗?我是看不见的东西感兴趣。我想知道,仅仅通过触摸。我感觉到叶片的精致的对称。我用手爱抚着光滑的白桦、或者一个银色的粗糙、毛茸茸的树皮松树。在春天,我满怀希望地触摸树枝,冀求找着一颗幼芽最初的大自然经过冬日沉睡重又苏醒。我觉得这个令人愉快的天鹅绒般的质地,并发现它的花卷绕,一些大自然的神奇透露给了我。有时,如果我很幸运,我把手轻轻地放在一棵小树上,能感到愉快颤抖的歌唱的小鸟。我很高兴有清凉的溪水从我张开的手指流淌过去。对我来说,一片茂密的地毯式的松针叶或松软而富弹性的草地比最豪华更受欢迎的波斯地毯更惬意。在我看来,一年四季的是一个令人激动的、无穷尽的戏剧,它的情节似水般徐徐从我指尖流过。
海伦·凯勒:3天