那天晚上，我看着他顺着绳索下到夏威夷岛上一个熔化的火山附近地区。
That night, I watched him rappel into the area near a molten volcano on the island of Hawaii.
我看着他的手指在每个字母下面慢慢移动，试图说出“Bud theSub”。
I watched his fingers move slowly under each letter as he tried to speak out "Bud the Sub".
“素食者们团结起来，”他说道，我看着他，说“行，哈哈。”
He said "vegetarians unite," and I looked at him and said "yeah, ha ha."
我记得我看着他往那吐司上抹黄油。
我看着他笑了笑，不确定自己的角色。
我看着他的眼睛，知道他是对的。
我看着他坐在石阶上，系紧礼服鞋的鞋带。
I watched him sit on a step to tighten the LACES on his dress shoes.
我看着他面前空空如也的桌面。
我看着他的眼睛，听他娓娓道来。
我看着他把牛赶出去。
我看着他的眼睛，我读不懂它们。
我看着他不知道他在做什么。
我看着他眼角上的皱纹。
我蹲下来看着他，那个无知的我，我看着他的眼睛。
I kneel in front of him, my innocent self, look him in the eyes.
我蹲下来看着他，那个无知的我，我看着他的眼睛。
I kneel in front of him, my innocent self, look him in the eyes. "Cross your heart and hope to die?"
我看着他，注意到他挑选着小块的食物，用叉子小心送进嘴里。
But as I watched, I noticed that he selected small pieces, speared them and moved them carefully to his mouth.
我看着他参加竞选，我跟他的朋友和敌人进行交流，也试图评估他这个人，以及他的机会大小。
I watched him campaign, talked to his friends and enemies, tried to assess him and his chances.
我看着他，看着书，我记得这本书，这个时刻，我第一本喜欢的书，我还记得我真想爬到书里睡去。
I look at him, look at the book, remember, this book, this moment, the first book I loved, remember wanting to crawl into it and sleep.
当他逐渐长大，我看着他蹒跚地走来都去，依依呀呀地学会说第一个词，长成一个漂亮的小男孩，这种感觉还是没有改变。
As he grew, and I watched him stagger about, squeak his first words, and turn into a beautiful little boy, that feeling did not change.
拉姆斯菲尔德就说，我们要打击伊拉克，当时每个人都看着他--至少我看着他，鲍威尔也看着他--心想你到底在瞎说什么？
And Rumsfeld said, You know, we’ve got to do Iraq, and everyone looked at him—at least I looked at him and Powell looked at him—like, What the hell are you talking about?
我就傻乎乎地站在那儿看着他。
我就这样看着他离开了。
他仔细地看着我。
他故作吃惊地看着我。
他满怀敌意地看着我。
他困窘地看着我，没有回答问题。
He looked at me in confusion and did not answer the question.
他看着我点了点头，几乎让人看不出来。
他直起身子看着我，嘴大张着。
艾伦看着他，平静地说，“我不相信你。”
他一边用力地开门，一边表情滑稽地看着我。
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