Reading Moments of Being 2

读《Moements of Being》的时候，突然想写写。伍尔夫回忆母亲的段落，每个字都用得恰如其分，同现实主义画家一样，每笔都画出精准轮廓

My first memory is of her lap; the scratch of some beads on her dress comes back to me as I pressed my cheek against it. Then I see her in her white dreassing gown on the balcony; and the passion flower with the purple star on its petals. Her voice is still faintly in my ears---decided, quick; and in particular the little drops with which her laugh ended-- threee diminishing ahs... "Ah---ah---ah... " I sometimes end a laugh that way myself. And I see her hands, like Adrian's, with the very individual square-tipped fingers, each finger with a waist to it,a nd the nail broadening out. (My own are the same size all the way, so that I can slip a ring over my thumb.) She had three rings; a diamond ting, an ererald ring, and an opal ring. My eyes used to fix themselves upon the lights in the opal as it moved across the page of the lesson book when she taught us, and I was glad that she left it to me

本想翻译出来，却发现怎么也词不达意。相较于成文早期的《reminiscence》，这篇没了娇柔浮华的修饰词，简练而描写有力。