Read the passages and translate the underlined sentences into Chinese.
Passage 1
A Close Call
When I was 26 years old, after I knew that I did no longer wanted to continue my career as
an engineer and before I moved to Asia, there was a period of time when I decided that I
wanted to become a lawyer. I even took the qualifying exam and applied to law
schools. 1) My idea back then was to represent the poor and underprivileged, and battle
injustice in the courtroom. The image I had of being a lawyer was heroic and full of
idealism.
While I was waiting to hear back from law schools, however, I sought out and spoke with
several lawyers who were practicing law. With each one, the story was the same. They
all enjoyed law school and felt the coursework to be both interesting and challenging. But
being a lawyer was a different story. Although it offered them a sound career, none of
those I talked to enjoyed their jobs. 2) Like me, they initially had a romantic view of what
practicing law was all about. They also envisioned themselves participating in dramatic
courtroom cases and working on exciting corporate deals.
Once they began practicing law, however, the reality was much different. Most spent the
majority of their time performing research and looking through volumes of documents and
books filled with legal cases. They painstakingly reviewed legal contracts, or filled out and
submitted applications for clients. When they described their jobs, the work sounded quite
repetitive and tedious. None of them talked about their jobs with any type of passion or
pleasure. 3) It became apparent to me that the type of drama and excitement that is often
glamorized did not exist for the overwhelming numbers of those who actually practiced
law.
I’m not trying to imply that a law career is not a rewarding and fascinating pursuit. 4) In my
own case, however, I no longer felt that my personality and personal objectives were well
suited for it. Because of these conversations, by the time I received my acceptance to law
school, I had made the decision not to attend. It would have been the wrong field for me. A
year later, I attended business school instead.
Passage 2
Writing in Exchange for Bread on the Table
By Marsha Maung
Some people say that I have it all-- I disagree. I constantly have to struggle with this
love-hate relationship I have with writing. I love reading, that's for sure. And I love to
write… about myself as and when I want to. But when I am required to write about
something like… say… how to change the black oil in a car or how to pick the right
motherboard for your computer… I have to literally drag myself to the computer and
prompt my fingers to move.
This is the relationship I have with writing. It's because I make a living out of churning out
articles after articles… sometimes completing up to 30 articles a day face to face with a
deadly deadline… it is not such a heavenly life after all.
1) It's ironic that I spent a large part of my life looking for the right thing to do. Something
that excites me and challenges me. Something that I WANT to do instead of being
FORCED TO do. I hate being forced into doing something but this is sometimes called the
"real world." Even when you love doing something, when you start having people tell you
HOW to write your articles, or books, it begins to lose its initial appeal.
And yet, despite turning into a drudgery of a kind, I continue to write. Writing is what I do
best. My husband turns to me in the dead of night, awakened by some kind of swearing
and the tap-tap-tap of my keyboard; he shakes his head and says, "Gosh, you're still
writing? Why?"
I hiss back, "Because I am paid to do this. Because I LOVE this. It's my job. It's my life.
This is what I am being paid to do, you moron!"
With a chuckle, knowing me, he turns his back on me and goes back to sleep. Smart
aleck!
2) Over the years, many other opportunities came a-knocking on my door and I wondered
if I would do better if I did something else. Oh, I would still write but I would write my own
stuff. My own novel. My own articles. My own blog. Whatever… my own diary. But no one
else will ever get the chance to tell me how to write the things I write-- NEVER!
And yet, surprisingly, I turn my back on those opportunities because I know I love to write.
Like I said. I write for a living and secretly love it. If I started selling insurance or real estate,
it would be... so superficial. So temporary. But when I write… I write well and I do it quickly
and very efficiently. And I sometimes feel proud of myself… although my fingers and eyes
were throbbing like an earthquake waiting to happen.
Writing is a passion. If you have a passion for writing, you'll start writing passionately and
whatever comes out is a masterpiece in its own right. Every single article that I've ever
written, I am proud of. I treat them like my little babies. 3) I've lost count of the number of
"babies" I have today but all those articles that I have written, they are a part of me.
And I have learned how to write efficiently and quickly without sounding like a train running
out of steam. Get going, get going, get going. Come on, go on with it, write, write, write.
And then after you've completed the article, go back and dissect it and inject some Botox
into it. If you stick around the first few sentences and try to get it perfect right from the start,
you'll never complete the article.
And with this secret (which is not a really a secret to begin with), I am now making my life
as a writer.
Do I still love writing after spending the last seven years writing on topics that are
completely arid to me? Well… I love to hate it… and sometimes I hate to love it.
I believe I will continue writing until I am lying on my deathbed… breathing my last few
breaths… I can imagine myself saying, "Honey, get me my keyboard… I want to be buried
with it."
Once a writer, always a writer.
Evidence: I took a total of three minutes and 22 seconds to write this whole article.