《请以你的名字呼唤我（Call me by your name）》英音+文本023

《请以你的名字呼唤我（Call me by your name）》英音+文本023

Then came that July Sunday afternoon when our house suddenly emptied, and we were the only ones there, and fire tore through my guts—because “fire” was the first and easiest word that came to me later that same evening when I tried to make sense of it in my diary. I’d waited and waited in my room pinioned to my bed in a trancelike state of terror and anticipation. Not a fire of passion, not a ravaging fire, but something paralyzing, like the fire of cluster bombs that suck up the oxygen around them and leave you panting because you’ve been kicked in the gut and a vacuum has ripped up every living lung tissue and dried your mouth, and you hope nobody speaks, because you can’t talk, and you pray no one asks you to move, because your heart is clogged and beats so fast it would sooner spit out shards of glass than let anything else flow through its narrowed chambers. Fire like fear, like panic, like one more minute of this and I’ll die if he doesn’t knock at my door, but I’d sooner he never knock than knock now.I had learned to leave my French windows ajar, and I’d lie on my bed wearing only my bathing suit, my entire body on fire. Fire like a pleading that says, Please, please, tell me I’m wrong, tell me I’ve imagined all this, because it can’t possibly be true for you as well, and if it’s true for you too, then you’re the cruelest man alive. This, the afternoon he did finally walk into my room without knocking as if summoned by my prayers and asked how come I wasn’t with the others at the beach, and all I could think of saying, though I couldn’t bring myself to say it, was, To be with you. To be with you, Oliver. With or without my bathing suit. To be with you on my bed. In your bed. Which is my bed during the other months of the year. Do with me what you want. Take me. Just ask if I want to and see the answer you’ll get, just don’t let me say no.

接着是七月那个星期天的下午，屋子突然空了，只剩我们俩，火迅速在我五胜六腑间呼啸蔓延开来 ——“ 火”是当晚我试图在日记里理清这件事时，第一个想到、也是最简单的字眼。我待在房间里，以一种惊恐又期待的恍惚状态紧缚在床上，等待再等待。那不是激情的火，不是摧残的火，而是让人麻痹瘫痪的东西，像子母弹的火那样吸光周围的氧气，让你气喘吁吁，内脏受到撞击，真空状态撕碎每一个活着的肺组织，让你口干舌燥。你希望谁也别说话，因为你无法开口；你祈求没人要你移动，因为你的心肌阻塞，跳得飞快，还来不及让任何东西流过狭窄的心室之前，似乎已经要喷出玻璃碎片。那火是害怕，是恐慌，仿佛再多捱一分钟，如果他还不来敲我的门我就会死 —— 但与其现在来到，我宁可他永远别来。我将落地窗打开一条小缝，只穿着泳衣躺在床上，全身犹如着火一般。这片火犹如恳求着：拜托，求你了，告诉我我错了！告诉我这一切都是我的想象，因为这对你来说也不可能是真的；如果对你来说也是真的，那么你就是世上最残忍的人。仿佛被我的祈祷召唤而来，下午他终于真的没敲门就走进我的房间，问我为什么没跟其他人一起去海边，此时我满脑子只想说：为了跟你在一起 —— 虽然我说不出口。为了跟你在一起，奥利弗。无论穿不穿泳衣都好。我想跟你在一起，在我床上，在你床上 —— 那张一年中其他月份里本属于我的床。跟我做你想做的事。占有我。问我想不想要就好，看看你会得到什么答案，只是别让我拒绝。