I asked myself.
我问我自己 。
Morrie's high, smoky voice took me back to my university years, when I thought rich people were evil, a shirt and tie were prison clothes, and life without freedom to get up and go—motorcycle beneath you, breeze in your face, down the streets of Paris, into the mountains of Tibet—was not a good life at all.
莫瑞尖锐沙哑的嗓音将我带回了大学时光 ， 那时候我认为富人都很坏 ， 衬衫和领带都是囚服 ， 没有那种来去自由的生活——胯下骑着哈雷 ， 迎面吹来微风 ， 从巴黎的街道风驰电掣 ， 一路驶向西藏的山巅——根本不算理想的生活 。
What happened to me?
那么在我身上又发生了什么呢？
The eighties happened.
80年代过去了 。
The nineties happened.
90年代过去了 。
Death and sickness and getting fat and going bald happened, I traded lots of dreams for a bigger paycheck, and I never even realized I was doing it.
死亡 ， 疾病 ， 变胖和变秃都发生了 ， 我用很多梦想换来了金额更大的支票 ， 而我甚至压根没有意识到我在做这些事情 。
Yet here was Morrie talking with the wonder of our college years, as if I'd simply been on a long vacation.
然而莫瑞在这里说着我们大学时的峥嵘时光 ， 就像我只是离开大学度了个假又回来了似的 。
“Have you found someone to share your heart with?” he asked.
“你有找到知心人分享你的内心世界吗？”他问道 。
“Are you giving to your community?
“你有对你的社区做些贡献吗？”
“Are you at peace with yourself?
“你有跟自己和平相处吗？”
“Are you trying to be as human as you can be?”
“你有尽自己所能去充满人性的活着吗？”
I squirmed, wanting to show I had been grappling deeply with such questions.
我坐卧不安 ， 试图展现我深深有为这些问题努力过一样 。
What happened to me?
我到底怎么了？
I once promised myself I would never work for money, that I would join the Peace Corps, that I would live in beautiful, inspirational places.
我曾经向自己保证我永远不会为了钱去工作 ， 我会加入和平队组织 ， 我会在一个美丽且振奋人心的地方生活 。
Instead, I had been in Detroit for ten years now, at the same workplace, using the same bank, visiting the same barber.
相反 ， 我在底特律待了十年 ， 在同一个工作地点 ， 使用同一家银行 ， 去同一家理发店 。
I was thirty-seven, more efficient than in college, tied to computers and modems and cell phones.
我三十七岁了 ， 比在大学的时候更有能力了 ， 整天和电脑、宽带以及电话绑定在一起 。
I wrote articles about rich athletes who, for the most part, could not care less about people like me.
我写着那些关于富有的运动员的文章 ， 那些运动员中的大多数 ， 对于像我这样的人简直没法更不在意了 。
I was no longer young for my peer group, nor did I walk around in gray sweatshirts with unlit cigarettes in my mouth.
我不再是同龄人中更小的那个 ， 也不再嘴里叼着没点着的烟穿着灰T恤衫到处乱晃 。
I did not have long discussions over egg salad sandwiches about the meaning of life.
我不再对着鸡蛋沙拉三明治大聊特聊生活的意义 。
My days were full, yet I remained,much of the time, unsatisfied, What happened to me?
我的日子过得很充实 ， 然而却仍然觉得 ， 大多数时间里 ， 不够满足 ， 我到底怎么了？
“Coach,”I said suddenly, remembering the nickname.
“教练 ， ”我突然蹦出这个词 ， 想起了这个昵称 。
Morrie beamed. “That's me. I'm still your coach.”
莫瑞满面开心 。 “没错是我 。 我仍然是你的教练 。 ”
