我渴望你的爱 Hungry for your love 渴望你的爱

Hungry for your love 渴望你的爱  

我的心跳急剧加速，我径直地看着拉玛的眼睛，问她，“那个男孩是不是有一天告诉你，‘明天不要给我送苹果了，我要被送到另一个集中营了’？”
“对呀，你怎么知道的。”拉玛的声音有点颤抖，“告诉我，赫尔曼，你到底是怎么知道的啊？”
我抓住她的手说，“因为我就是那个男孩啊，拉玛。”透过时间的面纱，我们认出了那藏在眼睛深处的灵魂，那是我们永远也无法停止爱恋的亲人。最后，我说：“拉玛，我再也不想和你分开了。我想要永远和你在一起。亲爱的，你能嫁给我吗？”
It is cold
so bitter cold
on this dark
winter day in 1942. But it is no different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shivering in my thin rags
still in disbelief that this nigare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future
to growing up and marrying
and having a family of my own. But those dreams are for the living
and I am no longer one of them. Instead
I am almost dead
surviving from day to day
from hour to hour
ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?

Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence
trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry
but I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day as more of us disappear
the happy past seems like a mere dream
and I sink deeper and deeper into despair. Suddenly
I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes
eyes that seem to say that she understands
that she
too
cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away
oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this
but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.
Then she reaches into her pocket
and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful
shiny red apple. Oh
how long has it been since I have seen one! She looks cautiously to the left and to the right
and then with a smile of triumph
quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up
holding it in my trembling
frozen fingers. In my world of death
this apple is an expression of life
of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing into the distance.
The next day
I cannot help myself-I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will e again? Of course. But in here
I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.
And again
she es. And again
she brings me an apple
flinging it over the fence with that same sweet smile.
This time I catch it
and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes inkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care
though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long
I feel my heart move with emotion.
For seven months
we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes
just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly
this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow
I know I am feeding hers as well.
One day
I hear frightening news: we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely means the end for me and my friend. The next day when I greet her
my heart is breaking
and I can barely speak as I say what must be said: "Do not bring me an apple tomorrow
" I tell her. "I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again." Turning before I lose all control
I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did
I know she would see me standing there
with tears streaming down my face.
Months pass and the nigare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror
the pain
the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind
I see her face
her kind eyes
I hear her gentle words
I taste those apples.
And then one day
just like that
the nigare is over. The war has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me
including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl
a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life. Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly
I agree. But she is nice
this woman named Roma. And like me
she is an immigrant
so we have at least that in mon.
"Where were you during the war?" Roma asks me gently
in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.
"I was in a concentration camp in Germany
" I reply.
Roma gets a far away look in her eyes
as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I am just thinking about something from my past
Herman
" Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. "You see
when I was a young girl
I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there
a prisoner
and for a long while
I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence
and he would be so happy."
Roma sighs heavily and continues. "It is hard to describe how we felt about each other-after all
we were young
and we only exchanged a few words when we could-but I can tell you
there was much love there. I assume he was killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that
and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together."
With my heart pounding so loudly I think it wil1 explode
I look directly at Roma and ask
"And did that boy say to you one day
'Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp'?"
"Why
yes
" Roma responds
her voice trembling.
"But
Herman
how on earth could you possibly know that?"
I take her hands in mine and answer
"Because I was that young boy
Roma."
For many moments
there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other
and as the veils of time lift
we recognize the soul behind the eyes
the dear friend we once loved so much
whom we have never stopped loving
whom we have never stopped remembering.
Finally
I speak: "Look
Roma
I was separated from you once
and I don't ever want to be separated from you again. Now
I am free
and I want to be together with you forever. Dear
will you marry me?"
I see that same inkle in her eye that I used to see as Roma says
"Yes
I will marry you
" and we embrace
the embrace we longed to share for so many months
but barbed wire came beeen us. Now
nothing ever will again.
Almost forty years have passed since that day when I found my Roma again. Destiny brought us together the first time during the war to show me a promise of hope and now it had reunited us to fulfill that promise.
Valentine's Day
1996. I bring Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor her on national television. I want to tell her in front of millions of people what I feel in my heart every day:
"Darling
you fed me in the concentration camp when I was hungry. And I am still hungry
for something I will never get enough of: I am only hungry for your love."