450） this.width=450" controls="ControlPanel" loop="false" autostart="false" volume="100" initfn="load-types" mime-types="mime.types" />Recorded Sep 14, 2011I fancy I still have confused recolletions of that illness. I especially remember the tenderness with which my mother tried to soothe me in my waking hours of fret and pain, and the agony and bewilderment with which I awoke after a tossing half sleep, and turned my eyes, so dry and hot, to the wall, away from the once-loved light, which came to me dim and yet more dim each day. But except for these fleetings memories, if, indeed, they be memories, it all seems very unreal, like a nightmare.Gradually I got used to the silence and darkness that surrounded me and forgot that it had ever been different, until she came -- my teacher -- who was to set my spirit free.But during the first nineteen months of my life I had caught glimpses of broad, green fields, a luminous sky, trees and flowers, which the darkness that followed could not wholly blot out. If we have once seen, "the day is ours, and what the day has shown."我惊异于自己仍然保留着对于那场疾病的含混记忆，我尤其记得妈妈对清醒中惶恐痛苦的我的温柔安抚，以及我在不安稳的半睡之后醒来时的迷乱和挣扎，这时候我会把自己干燥而灼热的眼睛转向墙壁，避开曾经热爱的亮光，而这亮光也在一天天变暗。只是除了这些稍纵即逝的记忆，-- 如果它们可以叫做记忆的话 -- 一切都显得很不真实，像一场梦。我慢慢习惯了笼罩着我的沉寂和黑暗，忘记了世界曾经有过什么不同，直到我的老师的到来，是她使我精神上重获自由。而在我生命最早的十九个月里，我曾经匆匆地看到过广阔、碧绿的田野，明亮的天空、树木和花朵，这些都不能被随后到来的黑暗完全抹去。如果我们曾经看见，“那一天就是我们的，而它所展示的也属于我们！”
