SEAN： So, if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny of Every art book ever written. Michelangelo. You know a lot about him: life's work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at the beautiful ceiling, seen that.
所以如果我问你艺术，你可能会提出艺术书籍中的粗浅论调，有关米开朗基罗，你知道很多，他的政治抱负、他和教皇…性向，所有作品，对吗？所以我敢打赌你说不出西斯汀教堂散发的气味，你从没站在真正站在那儿，仰头欣赏过它美丽的天花板。
SEAN：If I ask you about women, you'll probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what if feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid.
如果问你女人，你八成会说出个人偏好的谬论，你可能上过几次床，但你说不出在女人身旁醒来的感觉，那是真正幸福的滋味。
And I ask you about war, you'd probably, uh, throw Shakespeare at me, right?"once more unto the breach, dear friends..." But you've never bee near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, and watched him gasp his last breath, lookin' to your for help.
如果问你战争，你大概会抛出莎士比亚的名言：“共赴战场吧，亲爱的朋友……”但你从没接近过战争，从没有把好友的头抱在膝盖上，看着他吐出最后一口气。
I ask you about love, you'll probably quote me s sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable, known someone that could level you with her eyes, feelin' like God put and angel on earth just for you,who could rescue you from the depths of hell, and you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anyghin, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sittin' up in a hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause that only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself.
如果问你爱情，你会引述十四行诗，但你从没有因为看见一个女人而变得脆弱，知道有一个人能以双眼击倒你，她是上帝为你安排的天使，她能从地狱救出你，你不理解当她的天使的滋味，拥有对她的爱，直到永远。经历这一切，经历癌症。你无法体会在医院睡两个月，因为医生一看到你就知道，会客时间的规定对你无效。你不了解真正的失去，因为那只有当你有爱别人胜于自己才能体会。
I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. I look at you. I don't see an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky, scared-shitless kid. But you're a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possible understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me, because you saw a painting of mine. You ripped my fuckin' life apart. You're an orphan, right? Do you think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been? How you feel? Who you are? Because I read Oliver TWist?Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don't give a shit about all that. Because you know what? I can't learn anything from you I can't read in some fuckin' book. Unless, you wanna talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fasci ated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that, do you, sport? You're terrified of what you might say.
可我怀疑你敢那样的去爱人。看着你，我没看到聪明自信，我看到被吓坏的狂妄孩子，但你是天才，没人能否认，没人能了解你的深度，但你看我的画就认定我，你把我的人生撕裂了。你是孩儿，对吧？你想我会知道你日子有多苦、你的感受、你是谁，是因为我看过孤雏泪吗？那简化你了吗？我不在乎，因为你知道吗？我不能靠任何书籍认识你，除非你谈自己，谈你是谁，那我就着迷了，我愿意加入，但你不想那么做，对吧？你为你可能会说的话而害怕。