在Don Felder自传Heaven And Hell的第一章，菲尔德用优美的文笔描述了1976年光景的一场加旅巡演的开场。激动人心的场景值得回味，而自传英文版流传较少，故现译出，并附英文原文，愿大家共赏。

中文翻译：
还在更衣室中，我们便能听到远处滚滚雷鸣一般的鼎沸人声。我们从体育场馆里头一个一个走出来，嘴唇间还沾着啤酒，鼻孔中还残留着某种白粉。只听得隆隆的声音越来越响。
我们摸索着走进黑漆漆的舞台，取来我们的乐器，准备一展娴熟的表演技术。只感到，冷风抚弄着我的头发。骤然间，窃窃私语声变得响亮起来。前排的人群发现了在暗红的灯光下、几只话筒间游离的人影。他们或燃起蜡烛，或点起打火机，把它们举过头顶，希望尽早瞥到自己的摇滚偶像。其他观众依次开始了这样的动作，知道我们眼前被宽广无边、浩瀚如海的星星烛光所吞没。期望，是如此地醇香醉人，以至于几乎到了我们的舌尖。
我们在半明半暗的灯光下静立了几秒，调整我们的呼吸，集中意念审问自己是谁、为什么来这儿。我，来自佛罗里达州的一个小镇，一个曾差点深陷小儿麻痹症的穷小孩，梦想便是像B.B.King一样站在舞台前演奏。此刻其他四位乐队成员站在我身后，他们来自全国各个地区。我们每个人，都是美国梦的现实化身。
我们站在那儿，凝视着眼前数以万计花费重金而又迫不及待的粉丝，凝视着眼前那些熟悉每一个音符、每一句歌词，不辞劳苦只为一睹现场的歌迷。可卡茵、刺激感、肾上腺素……种种让我的心脏在胸廓内重重地跳动。
突然，一束聚光灯亮了起来。光，直接照在了我身上；而此刻，我兀自正对着明亮的烛光，手持一把白色的吉布森双头吉他。整个乐队的其他部分留下一个侧影，投在那幅《加州旅馆》专辑封面的巨幅复制品上。那是一张在洛杉矶的日落和棕榈树掩映下贝弗利山旅馆的图片。我的手指震颤着，弹出主打单曲那极具辨识度的第一个小节作为开场。这首歌曲由我——在数月前的海边居所中，翘着二郎腿，伴着儿子的玩耍——参与合写而成。
喧闹的声音沸腾了！没有人料到这首歌会作为开场，他们觉得我们会把它作为终曲。观众席上炸裂了。最初的几秒，几乎没有别的，只有人群的声音——尖叫、欢呼、咆哮、口哨和喧嚣的掌声震耳欲聋。我在聚光灯下摇曳着，吸收着这股充满兴奋、紧张感的气息，揩去额头上的汗，闭上我的双眼。当我的手指在指板的档子间近乎自动地移动时，我给了自己一个浅浅的微笑。就是这样。这就是如我在深夜梦到的那种——听着远处传来的呐喊声——激动人心的、成功的声音。

附英文原文：
We could hear the rumble of the crowd in the dressing room.It sounded like a thunderstorm brewing somewhere far above us.As we emerged one by one from the bowels of the stadium,our lips wet with beer,white powder rings around my nostrils,the rumble grew louder and louder.
The stage was dark as we fumbled across to our respective instruments with well-practiced skill,the cool wind ruffling our hair.The murmur suddenly swelled.Those at the front of the crowd spotted our shadowy figures moving around in the red glow of the amplifiers.They lit candles or cigarette lighters and held them above their heads,hoping for an early glimpse of their rock idols.Others followed in sequence until all we could see was a vast,shimmering sea of light.The anticipation was so heady we could almost taste it.
We stood in the half-light for a few seconds,catching our breath,tryingto focus our minds on who we were and how we came to be there.Me,a poor boy from small-town Florida,almost crippled by polio as a child,whose dream was to play like B.B.King,stepping out to the front of the stage.The other four members of the band behind me,from all over the country,in bell-bottom jeans,each of us the living embodiment of the American dream.
There we stood,peering out at the tens of thousands of expectant fans who'd paid top dollar to be here,people who knew each note,every word of our music and who'd come from miles around just to hear us play.The cocaine and the thrill and the adrenaline made my heart pound hard against my ribcage.
Suddenly a spotlight flicked on.Shining straight down on me,standing alone in a beam of brilliant light,holding a white,double-necked Gibson guitar.The rest of the band silhouetted against a giant reproduction of the distinctive cover photograph of Hotel California,an image of the Beverly Hills Hotel flanked by palm trees in the L.A.sunset.My fingers tingling,I opened with the first distinctive bars of the title track,a song I'd cowritten a few months before,sitting cross-legged on the floor of my beach house with my son playing nearby.
A roar went up.Nobody expected this to be the first number.They thought we'd close with it.The audience exploded.For those first few seconds,there was no sound but that of the crowd--a deafening cacophony of screaming,cheering,bellowing,whistling,and tumultuous applause.Swaying in the spotlight,soaking up the intense,electrically charged atmosphere,I wiped the sweat from my forehead and closed my eyes.As my fingers moved automatically up and down the frets,I allowed myself a small smile.This was it All that I'd ever dreamed of in the depths of the night-to hear those voices calling from far away-the exhilarating sound of success.

顶你，本书群友有发过精品阅读贴，见置顶里

作为高中生忍不住多评论一句，从高考欣赏的词句表达来说，本文原文真是我见过的读后续写作文最好的范本。准备全文背诵

也有可能是老唐找的代笔