精美英文欣赏:给,那些不被回忆记住的人（在线收听）

I believe that everyone deserves flowers on their grave.

When I go to the cemetery to visit my brother, it makes me sad to see graves — just the cold stones — and no flowers on them.

They look lonely, like nobody loves them. I believe this is the worst thing in the world — that loneliness. No one to visit you and brush off the dust from your name and cover you with color. A grave without any flowers looks like the person has been forgotten. And then what was the point of even living — to be forgotten?

Almost every day my brother’s grave has something new on it: Flowers from me, or candles from the Dollar Store or an image of the Virgin Maria or shot glasses. There’s even some little Homies, these little toys that look like gangsters.

Once my brother’s homies even put a bunch of marijuana on there for him — I think my mother took it away. I think she also took away the blue rag someone put there for him one day.

Sometimes, when I bring flowers, I fix the flowers on the graves around my brother’s grave. Some of the headstones have birthdates near my brother’s; they are young, too. But many of them, if they have any little toys or things on them, those are red.

All around my brother are boys who grew up to like red, making them the enemies of my brother. My brother was 16 when he was shot by someone who liked red, who killed him because he liked blue. And when I go to the cemetery I put flowers on the graves of the boys who liked red, too.

Sometimes I go to the cemetery with one of my best friends, who had a crush on a boy who liked red, who was killed at 18 by someone who liked blue. And we will go together and bring a big bunch of flowers, enough for both of these boys whose families are actually even from the same state in Mexico.

There is no one but me and a few of my friends who go to both graves. Some people think it’s a bad idea. Some people think it’s heroic.

I think they’re both being silly. I don’t go to try and disrespect some special rules or stop any kind of war. I go because I believe that no matter where you came from or what you believed in, when you die, you want flowers on your grave and people who visit you and remember you that way.

I’m not any kind of traitor or any kind of hero. I am the sister of Rogelio Bautista, and I say his name so you will hear it and be one more person that remembers him. I want everyone to remember all the boys, red and blue, in my cemetery. When we remember, we put flowers on their graves.

我相信每个人的坟墓上都应该有鲜花。

当我去扫弟弟的坟的时候，我很难过，因为我看到的只是冰冷石头，没有花朵。

他们看上去很孤独，就像没有人爱他们一样。在我看来，孤独是这个世界上最恐怖的一件事。在你死之后，没有人来拜访你，没有人给你扫坟墓上的灰，没有人给你的坟墓上献花。一座没有花朵的坟墓就像一个已经被遗忘的人。如果这样的话，活着又有什么意思呢？

几乎每一天，我都会带一些东西去弟弟的坟墓上，鲜花，一元超市的蜡烛，圣母玛利亚的画像，或者是变色的眼镜，还有一些小玩具，看上去像是匪徒。

有一次，弟弟的坟墓上出现了一根大麻，我想我的母亲将它拿走了，还有那块曾经出现在墓边的破布。

有的时候，如果我带过去的是鲜花，我会将它们好好地插满在弟弟的坟墓周围。旁边的一些碑石上也有刻着出生日期，他们都很小。但是，但是但凡墓碑前有玩具或者花之类的东西，都是红色的。

在我弟弟的旁边，基本上都是一些喜欢红颜色的人的墓，他们是我弟弟的对家。因为，我弟弟16岁的时候，被一个喜欢红色的人杀死了，原因是我弟弟喜欢蓝色。当我去看望弟弟的时候，我也会顺便带一些红色的玩具，送给旁边的人。

有时，我会和一个好朋友一起去扫墓，那个朋友去看望的是一个喜欢红色的男孩。这个男孩18岁的时候被一个喜欢蓝色的人给杀死了。我们会带着一大束花，去看望这两个实际上出自于墨西哥的同一个州的两个男孩。

除了我和我的几个朋友之外，没有其他人去同时拜访这两个墓。有的人说这样做不好，有的人认为这样做有英雄气概。

在我看来，这两个观点都不正确。我这样做，并不是在践踏一些特定的规则，也不是试图阻止怎样的战争。我只是坚信，无论这个人来自哪里，他都希望自己死后，活着的人可以带着鲜花来扫墓，以此表示对已逝者的一种纪念。

我既不是一个叛国者也不是一个英雄。我只是Rogelio Bautista的姐姐，我之所以这样说出我弟弟的名字，是希望有更多的人可以记住他，我希望大家能记住公墓里的逝者，因为只有我们记得的时候，我们才会去送花给他们。