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电风扇 electric fan 英音：[iˈlektrik fæn] 美音：[ɪˈlɛktrɪk fæn] 英文小故事 Once there was a ceiling fan who lived in a spare room of an old house that belonged to an old lady. He was one of the better models. He had three lights. And he had four shiny blades. And he had three settings. Slow, medium and fast. But he was very lonely. One day the old lady bought a pot of plant to light up the spare room. The ceiling fan fell in love. Right away he started showing off for her. He spun his blades slow. He spun them medium. He spun them fast. He bent his lights in a flooding way. For the first few days the flower ignored the fan. But he was so impressive and so sincere that she was attracted to him in spite of herself. And she bloomed a very pretty flower to let him love. And as the years went by they grew very close, even though they could never touch. They tried everything to get closer. But it was not to be. She would spend her nights creating beautifully-made flowers for him. Fan in turn would spend getting a little spin and send down gentle breeze to caress her petals. She brought color to his life and he brought motion into hers. Eventually the old lady who owned the house started to become forgetful. She would have days and weeks go by without coming into this spare room. A fan, once so shiny and proud now more a layer of dust. But worse, the plant was drying up. She couldn’t boom like she once had. But the fan didn’t light. Finally one rainy night in spring the fan realized the plant was dying. He thought about how much the plant meant to him and how she kept him from being lonely. And he took a deep breath and began to spin. It was difficult at first because he hadn’t done it so long and because there was so much dust in his model. But fan spun his blades once slow the medium then fast, then very fast. Faster than his highest setting. Faster than he had been designed to go. A low hammer of the fan became aloud, warm, dust-built and ….. and he pushed his lades away with all his might. The ceiling began to give way. But the fan kept spinning and spinning even as he crashed through the room and into the open sky. The last thing he saw before him dashed bits some ground below was the rain falling into the spare room. Not long after that the old lady moved away and new people bought the house. They fixed up, moved the plant out into the front yard with flush. But she never forgot the fan. And every spring people come from all over the city to see unusual flowers to boom, each one was four long white petals. Breeze comes as they spin and spin, and spin, and spin…. 从前，有个吊在天花板的风扇，住在一个老婆婆家的空房间里。他是当时很好的设计之一，有着三盏灯，四片油光锃亮的扇叶，还有三档风速:缓慢，温和，强烈，但是……他很寂寞。 有一天，老婆婆带来了一盆花， 给这个空房间带来一点生气。 风扇…爱上了花儿… 很快他开始对她展开了追求：他先是轻轻地转动扇叶， 继而变为温和地转动，然后是飞快地转动。他还用那些灯光卖弄起来…… 在最初的几天里，花儿没怎么理睬风扇。可他是那样迷人而又真诚， 让她不禁为他着魔，她因此开了一朵美丽的花来回应他。光阴流逝，他们彼此愈加靠近了，虽然他们知道彼此永远无法相拥。他们想尽了一切办法来靠近彼此，然而却总是无法互相接触。她会在深夜为他变换着各种漂亮的花型，而风扇会缓缓转动扇叶，用温柔的微风爱抚着花儿。她给他的生命抹上色彩，他让她的心灵获得感动。后来，老婆婆变得健忘了。一天一天过去了，一周一周过去了，她总是没有踏进过这个房间半步…… 曾经崭新而自信的风扇， 现在盖上了厚厚的尘埃。更糟糕的是，花儿濒临枯死的边缘，不能再像以前那样开出美丽的花朵。然而风扇并不在意。 最后，在一个春雨沥沥的夜晚，风扇终于意识到了花儿正在逝去的事实。意识到花儿对他有多么重要，意识到花儿曾经如何为他驱走孤独… 风扇深深地吸了一口气，慢慢转动扇叶… 因为许久未曾旋转，再加上陈年的积尘，他艰难得转动着…上到缓慢的速度… 到了温和的速度… 越来越快… 到了强力的速度… 超过他最高的速度了… 超过设计所能承受的速度了… 电机吼叫着… 墙壁颤动着… 灰尘弥漫，火星四溅，风扇拼尽全力转动着扇叶… 天花板慢慢开裂了… 风扇还是不停得转动，越来越快，越来越快… 好像他要冲破天花板，飞往夜空… 在坠地之前，他最后所见到的… 是春雨飘入了房间里… 不久之后，老婆婆搬走了，有人把老房子买下来了。天花板修葺好了， 花儿移到了庭园里，被精心照料，可她永远不会忘了风扇…… 每到春天，所有人都会来参观一种不寻常的花：每一朵花都长着四瓣白色长长的花瓣, 每当微风吹过的时候…花瓣就转起来，转动着… 转动着… 转动着… 例句： 1、在我们屋子里有一台电风扇. There is an electric fan in our room. 2、电风扇被摔坏,不转了. The fan's broken – it's not turning round. 3、我想买一台电风扇. I want to buy electric fan. 4、睡眠中不能长时间吹电风扇. In the sleep cannot the long time blow the electric fan. |
