12岁的阿富汗富家少爷阿米尔与仆人哈桑情同手足。然而，在一场风筝比赛后，发生了一件悲惨不堪的事，阿米尔为自己的懦弱感到自责和痛苦，逼走了哈桑，不久，自己也跟随父亲逃往美国。

成年后的阿米尔始终无法原谅自己当年对哈桑的背叛。为了赎罪，阿米尔再度踏上暌违二十多年的故乡，希望能为不幸的好友尽最后一点心力，却发现一个惊天谎言，儿时的噩梦再度重演，阿米尔该如何抉择?

故事如此残忍而又美丽，作者以温暖细腻的笔法勾勒人性的本质与救赎，读来令人荡气回肠。

下面就跟小编一起来欣赏双语名著·追风筝的人 The Kite Runner(65)的精彩内容吧！

Sitting in the middle of my room the next morning, I ripped open box after box of presents. I don’t know why I even bothered, since I just gave them a joyless glance and pitched them to the corner of the room. The pile was growing there: a Polaroid camera, a transistor radio, an elaborate electric train set--and several sealed envelopes containing cash. I knew I’d never spend the money or listen to the radio, and the electric train would never trundle down its tracks in my room. I didn’t want any of it--it was all blood money; Baba would have never thrown me a party like that if I hadn’t won the tournament.
Baba gave me two presents. One was sure to become the envy of every kid in the neighborhood: a brand new Schwinn Stingray, the king of all bicycles. Only a handful of kids in all of Kabul owned a new Stingray and now I was one of them. It had high-rise handlebars with black rubber grips and its famous banana seat. The spokes were gold colored and the steel-frame body red, like a candy apple. Or blood. Any other kid would have hopped on the bike immediately and taken it for a full block skid. I might have done the same a few months ago.
“You like it?” Baba said, leaning in the doorway to my room. I gave him a sheepish grin and a quick “Thank you.” I wished I could have mustered more.
“We could go for a ride,” Baba said. An invitation, but only a halfhearted one.
“Maybe later. I’m a little tired,” I said.
“Sure,” Baba said.
“Baba?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for the fireworks,” I said. A thank-you, but only a halfhearted one.
“Get some rest,” Baba said, walking toward his room.

隔日清早，我坐在房间中间，拆开一个又一个礼品盒子。我不知道自己为何如此费劲，因为我总是兴味索然地看上一眼，就将礼物丢到屋角去。它们在那边积成一堆：宝丽莱相机，变频收音机，精巧的电动列车组合玩具——还有几个装着现金的信封。我知道自己永远不会花那些钱，不会听那个收音机，而那辆电动列车也不会在我房间中爬上它的轨道。我不想要这些东西——这些全都是血腥钱；而且，若非我赢得风筝大赛，爸爸根本就不会替我举办那么一场宴会。
爸爸给了我两件礼物。一辆崭新的施温?斯丁格雷［1］SchwinnStingray，美国著名高档自行车品牌。［1］，自行车之王，毫无疑问会让临近的小孩垂涎三尺，喀布尔拥有新斯丁格雷的孩子寥寥无几，如今我也跻身其中了。它的手把高高升起，握柄由黑色橡胶制成，还有个蜚声久远的香蕉型车座，轮辐是金色的，钢做的车身是红色的，赭红色，像鲜血那样。换成别的孩子，恐怕会立即跳上去，骑着它招摇过市。几个月前的我也许会这么做。
“你喜欢吗?”爸爸斜倚在我房间门口问。我露出温顺的笑容，匆匆说了声“谢谢”。我多希望我能多说几句话。
“我们可以去骑骑。”爸爸说。他在邀请我，不过并非真心实意。
“再说吧，我有点累了。”
“好的。”爸爸说。
“爸爸?”
“怎么?”
“谢谢你的烟花。”我说。我在感谢他，不过并非真心实意。
“好好休息吧。”爸爸说，朝他房间走去。