LAST WITNESSES
By:Isacie Ma    +加关注    粉丝:1
所在地:,     
参加比赛:The 1st Oriental Kids Picture Book Award     
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客户:Issacie Ma
网址:https://www.gracg.com/works/view/1399786
创造年份: 2019

描述:Inspiration Source: The author of “Last Witnesses” (translated into Chinese as 我还是想你,妈妈) is Belarusian journalist Svetlana Alexandrovna Alexievich, who is the first non-fiction writer winning the Nobel Prize in Literature after Churchill. The book won the prize in 2015. The reason for winning the award was: Her polyphonic work is a memorial to the tribulations and courage of our times. During the Soviet-German War, that is, The Great Patriotic War of the Soviet Union (1941–1945), millions of Sov

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LAST WITNESSES/我还是想你,妈妈

Inspiration Source: The author of “Last Witnesses” (translated into Chinese as 我还是想你,妈妈) is Belarusian journalist Svetlana Alexandrovna Alexievich, who is the first non-fiction writer winning the Nobel Prize in Literature after Churchill. The book won the prize in 2015. The reason for winning the award was: Her polyphonic work is a memorial to the tribulations and courage of our times. During the Soviet-German War, that is, The Great Patriotic War of the Soviet Union (1941–1945), millions of Soviet children died. The book is the oral record of the survivors. When the war took place, most of them were children under 14 years old, and some were even born in the war. This book is a true representation of war in the eyes of children, who are the fairest and most unfortunate witnesses of war. It is the words of children that describe the cruel reality in an innocent way, simple and plain yet powerful. 《Last Witnesses》(中文版译名《我还是想你,妈妈》)作者是白俄罗斯记者S.A.阿列克谢耶维奇,她是继丘吉尔后首位以纪实文学获得诺贝尔文学奖的非虚构作家。该书于2015

MISTERWhen my father came home from the front, I was scared of him. He would give me candy and ask, “Say ‘papa’…” I would take the candy, hide with it under the table, and say, “Mister…” I had no papa during the war. I grew up with mama and grandma. With my aunt. I couldn’t imagine what a papa would do in our home. He’d come with a rifle…

I SAW I saw what shouldn’t be seen…What a man shouldn’t see. And I was little… I saw a soldier who was running and seemed to stumble. He fell. For a long time he clawed at the ground, he clung to it… I saw a German train go off the rails and burn up during the night, and in the morning they laid all those who worked for the railroad on the tracks and drove a locomotive over them… I saw my neighbor’s dog crying. He sat in the ashes of our neighbor’s house. Alone. He had an old man’s eyes… And I was little…I grew up with this…I grew up gloomy and mistrustful, I have a difficult character. When someone cries, I don’t feel sorry; on the contrary, I feel better, because I myself don’t know how to cry. I’ve been married twice, and twice my wife has left me. No onecould stand me for long. It’s hard to love me.

SLEEPLESSI close my eyes…I see… Three Red Army soldiers are being led down the road, their arms tied behind them with barbed wire. They are in their underwear. Two are young, one an older man. They walk with their heads down. They are shot near the school. On the road. In the last moments they began to shout their names loudly in hopes that someone would hear and remember them. Inform their relatives. I watched through a hole in the fence…I remember… One was Vanechka Ballai, the other Roman Nikonov. And the one who was older shouted, “Long live Comrade Stalin!” And I kept repeating…I’d wake up at night and repeat: Vanechka Ballai, Roman Nikonov…The third man’s name I didn’t know…

FOLLOWFather saw us and, I remember it like today, covered his head with his hands and walked off, even ran. He was afraid to look back. The sun was shining in my face. So warm…And even now I can’t believe that my father left that morning for the war. I was very little, but I think I realized that I wasseeing him for the last time. That I would never meet him again. I was very…very little… It became connected like that in my memory, that war is when there’s no papa… Once I met a man in the street who looked like papa. I followed him for a long time. Since I hadn’t seen my papa dead…

PINK The whole street had burned. Grandmothers and grandfathers and many small children had burned. Because they didn’t run away with the others, they thought they wouldn’t be touched. The fire didn’t spare anybody. We walked and if you saw a black corpse, it meant a burned old man. If you saw something small and pink from a distance—it meant a child. They lay pink on the cinders…

HIT THE BALLWe saw a family sitting in a boat—a man, his wife, and two children. When the boat was overturned, the adults immediately sank to the bottom, but the children kept resurfacing. The fascists hit them with their paddles, laughing. They hit them here, they would resurface somewhere else; they would catch up with them and hit them again. But, like rubber balls, they didn’t sink…

GIRLS’ SHOESAs luck would have it, an army choirmaster came to the orphanage, Captain Gordeev. He chose four musical boys, including me. That was how I wound up at the front. The whole orphanage came to see us off. I had nothing to wear, and one girl gave me her sailor suit, and another had two pairs of shoes and gave one to me. Thus equipped I went to the front. Most of all I was embarrassed to be wearing girls’ shoes…

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