I am always drawn back to places where I havelived,the house and their neighbourhoods.For
instance,there is a brownstone in the East
Seventies where,during the early years of the
war ,I had my first New York aparment. It was
one room crowded with attic furniture,a sofa and
fat chairs upholstered in that itchy,particular
red velvet that one associates with hot days on
a train.the walls were stucco,and a colour
rather like tobacco-spit. everywhere,in the
bathroom too,there were prints of Roman ruins
freckled brown with age.the single window looked
out on a fire escape.Even so,my spirits
heightened whenever i felt in my pocket the key
to this apartment;with all its gloom,it still
was a place of my own,the first,and my books
were there,and jars of pencils to sharpen,
everything i needed,so i felt,to become the
writer i wanted to be.
2009-05-15 08:33 提高悬赏10分

很美的文字，我有同感，人需要的，不是多么豪华的房间，而是能让心可以安定下来的地方，翻译如下：


现在，我会常常回到那些我以前住过的地方去，看看那些房子和那些以前邻居家。就比如说吧，在十七街的东面有一栋棕色的砖房，那是战争初期时，我在纽约的第一个屋子。一间塞满了家具的小屋，有一个沙发、一些宽大的椅子，都经过了精心布置，用的是那些令人心痒痒的、考究的、炎炎夏日火车上才用的红色天鹅绒。墙上刷的是拉毛粉，连浴室里也是，颜色有点像嚼烟（注）。记得那有一些描绘罗马的油画，因为时间太久而斑驳不堪。而且连唯一的窗户也正对着消防梯。但是不管怎样，当房间钥匙安稳地躺在我口袋里的时候，我还是为之一振，就算有再多的不满，这也是我自己的第一个家，那里有我的书，有装满削好了的铅笔的笔筒，有我想要的一切，而所有的这些让我感到，我会成为向往已久的作家。

注释：嚼烟：古时欧洲人，特别是作家，喜欢把烟叶放到口里咀嚼，以此来提神。