幫我翻釋下 將下面英文轉做中文呀..plz
盡量吾好用翻釋機呀唔該..因為翻釋機 翻完出黎D句子超怪 -V-"
Chinese national pride, symbolized in the Olympic torch, has been the subject of considerable recent comment - in the papers, on television and on the internet - ostensible insults to which were the justification for an outbreak of fist-waving and finger-wagging.
This particular subject seems, however, to have been largely silenced by the massive and tragic earthquake in Sichuan.
Not being Chinese, pride in China and its accomplishments would be something of a fraught sentiment for me, in any case.
Pride in one's own achievements is akin to conceit; pride in the accomplishments of others seems like taking credit where none is due.
Pride seems best reserved for members of one's own "family," meant in the broadest sense, but as far as China is concerned, a term from which I feel I am largely excluded.
Admiration, on the other hand, especially admiration based on informed observation, is something one can, given sufficient cause, feel without reservation.
And there has been much to observe, and much to admire, in China's response to this sudden natural disaster. The country has, at all levels, from the official to the individual, risen to face this national challenge.
Premier Wen Jiabao was on an aircraft within hours - a sharp contrast to US President GeorgeW Bush's dithering when faced with the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. And once at the scene, Wen didn't stand on ceremony: he got his hands dirty.
It is easy to be cynical about politicians, but it's hard to dismiss statements that the search for survivors will continue "as long as there's a glimmer of hope" as just soundbites, and Wen's sloshing through the mud and climbing over rubble as mere photo-ops.
The government's reaction to foreign aid and assistance has hit a note between heartfelt gratitude and firm assurances that the government is in control.