我的生命不是長河,也不是大海,我的生命是小溪,是一條蜿蜒的小溪。 小溪的旅途平淡而又曲折,漫長而又單調(diào)。小溪的目的地永遠(yuǎn)在下一站,小溪從不停滯,卻也從不曾匆匆趕路,忘了沿途的風(fēng)景。小溪的水流很緩慢,好像隨時(shí)都有干涸的危險(xiǎn),可他卻總是很坦然——只要能隨心所欲地流向遠(yuǎn)方的遠(yuǎn)方,即使干涸了,又何妨? 小溪沒有方向,就像徐志摩的風(fēng)一樣。它渴望漂泊,卻拒絕孤獨(dú);追尋自由,卻摒棄放蕩;它有點(diǎn)荒涼,卻從未放棄希望;它有點(diǎn)固執(zhí),卻從不曾彷徨迷惘。只是慢慢地流著,忍受著風(fēng)干或凍結(jié)的痛苦,等待著口渴的小鹿停在身邊啜飲純凈的溪水。 小溪,沒有長河的寧靜淡泊,沒有大海的洶涌澎湃,卻依然緩緩地流向遠(yuǎn)方,隨心所欲,隨遇而安。
The River of Life
Thomas Campbell
THE MORE we live, more brief appear
Our life’s succeeding stages:
A day to childhood seems a year,
And years like passing ages.
The gladsome current of our youth,
Ere passion yet disorders,
Steals lingering like a river smooth
Along its grassy borders.
But as the care-worn cheeks grow wan,
And sorrow’s shafts fly thicker,
Ye Stars, that measure life to man,
Why seem your courses quicker?
When joys have lost their bloom and breath
And life itself is vapid,
Why, as we reach the Falls of Death,
Feel we its tide more rapid?
It may be strange—yet who would change
Time’s course to slower speeding,
When one by one our friends have gone
And left our bosoms bleeding?
Heaven gives our years of fading strength
Indemnifying fleetness;
And those of youth, a seeming length,
Proportion’d to their sweetness.
人生越老,歲月越短,
生命的歷程似在飛換;
兒時(shí)的一天如同一載,
一載如同幾個(gè)朝代。
青春的熱情尚未衰退,
愉悅的流泉但覺遲遲,
有如一道草原中的綠溪,
靜悄悄的蜿蜒著流瀉。
但待頰上的紅霞退盡,
憂愁的征箭越飛越頻,
星星呦星星,你們大小司命,
你們的運(yùn)行為何越來越迅?
當(dāng)快感失去了花時(shí)和吸引,
生命本身有如一個(gè)空瓶,
當(dāng)我快要臨到死境,
為什么退潮更加猛進(jìn)?
怪誕呀,可能是怪誕——
誰要不想把日程放慢,
友人的謝世接二連三,
胸中的傷痛如荼如炭。
是天,使我們?nèi)諠u衰竭的暮年
得到迅速消失的補(bǔ)償,
是天,使青年時(shí)代的快樂,
得到相應(yīng)的貌似延長。
