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建造沙堡

(2008-01-05 11:15:47)
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杂谈

 

建造沙堡

 

酷热的阳光,咸咸的海风,富有节奏的波浪,一个小男孩儿在海滩上。

 

小男孩儿跪在地上用小铲把沙子放入红色的桶里。他把放满沙子的桶举起后倒扣在沙滩上,然后提起桶,一个小小的城堡就这么诞生了。

 

整个下午他都这么“工作”着。修“护城河”、建“城墙”。瓶盖儿被当成了卫兵。棒冰棍变成了桥。一座沙子的城堡即将大功告成。

 

大城市,熙攘的街道,拥挤的交通。一个男人在他的办公室。

 

男人把文件堆在一起,然后分门别类,头和肩夹着电话的同时双手在键盘上敲击着。数字不断变化着,合同签了一个又一个。令他高兴的是,新的利润又被创造出来了。

 

他的一生就是在工作。制定计划。预测将来。年薪是他的卫兵,资本盈利是他的桥梁。一个王国即将大功告成。

 

两个建造者,两座城堡。他们有许多相似之处。他们都是积少成多。他们最初看不到任何东西,但又创造出东西。他们都很勤勉,做事很有决心。最终潮水会起,生命会结束。但他们的相似之处也到此为止了。小男孩儿看到了结局而男人忽视了结果。在日暮中看着男孩儿,每个波浪拍打着一点点靠近他的成果,一浪比一浪更高。但男孩儿并不难过。他不感到惊讶。整日猛烈的浪头提醒他结果是不可避免的。他知道巨浪后面的秘密。很快巨浪会到来将他的城堡带到深海。然而,男人不知道这个秘密。他应该知道的。他和小男孩儿一样,被有节律的记忆所包围着。周而复始,季节更替。每个日出到日落呢喃着这个秘密:“时间会毁掉你的城堡”。

 

一个人作了准备,而令一个没有。一个人心绪平静而令一个无比震惊。

 

当潮水近了,聪明的男孩儿一跃而起开始喝采,没有悲伤,没有恐惧,没有遗憾。他知道这是将要发生的事。他不感到惊讶。当他的杰作受到猛烈地“攻击”,被海水吞没,他笑了。他笑着,拉着爸爸的手回家了。

 

那个成年人并没有这么聪明。当时间的潮水向他的城堡袭来时,他害怕了。他徘徊在沙子的纪念碑周围保护它。他将潮水档在城墙外边。咸咸的水涌了进来,他在发抖。他向潮水咆哮着:“这是我的城堡!”

 

大海不需要回应。谁都知道沙子是属于谁的。最终高浪没过了男人和他的小王国。只是短短的一会儿时间,城堡塌了。他的小小的成功之塔就这样分崩离析了。留给他的,是如他手中抓住的淤泥一样的,满满的关于昨天的回忆。

 

如果他知道,如果他能倾听,如果。。。但是他和大多数人一样,很少听别人讲话。他们并不残忍,也不反抗或是愤怒。但他们看不见,他们看不到太阳的下落。他们也听不见,他们听不到波浪的拍打声。从波浪那里学习并为结束做好准备。

 

我对沙堡知道的不多,但孩子们知道。观察他们你会学到很多。放手去建造你的城堡吧,但要带一颗童心。当太阳落下,潮水涨起,应该喝采,向生命的过程致敬。牵着爸爸的手回家。

 

Building Sandcastles

 

 

Hot sun. Salty air. Rhythmic waves. A little boy is on the beach.

 

On his knees he scoops and packs the sand with plastic shovels into bright red bucket. Then he upends the bucket on the surface and lifts. And, to the delight of the little architect, a castle tower is created.

 

All afternoon he will work. Spooning out the moat. Packing the walls. Bottle tops will be sentries. Popsicle sticks will be bridges. A sandcastle will be built.

 

Big city. Busy street. Rumbling traffic. A man is in his office.

 

At his desk he shuffles paper into stacks and delegates assignment. He cradles the phone on his shoulder and punches the keyboard with his fingers. Numbers are juggled and contracts are signed and much to the delight of the man a profit is made.

 

All his life he will work. Formulating the plans. Forecasting the future. Annuities will be sentries. Capital gains will be the bridges. An empire is built.

 

Two builders of two castles. They have much in common. They shape granules into grandeur. They see nothing and make something. They are diligent and determined. And for both the tide will rise and the end will come. Yet, that is where the similarities cease. For the boy sees the end wile the man ignores it. Watch the boy as the dusk approaches. Each wave slaps and inch closer to his creation. Every crest crashes closer than the one before. But the boy doesn’t panic. He is not surprised. All day the pounding waves have reminded him that the end is inevitable. He knows the secret of the surging. Soon they will come and take his castle into the deep. The man, however doesn’t know the secret. He should. He, like the boy, lives surrounded by rhythmic reminders. Days come and go. Seasons ebb and flow. Every sunrise which becomes a sunset whispers the secret, “time will tae your castles”

 

So one is prepared and one isn’t. One is peaceful while the other panics.

 

As the waves near, the wise child jumps to his feet and begins to clap. There is no sorrow. No fear. No regret. He knew this would happen. He is not surprised. And when the great breaker crashes into his castle and his masterpieces sucked into the sea, he smiles. He smiles, takes his father’s hand, and goes home.

 

The grown up, however is not so wise. As the waves of years collapse on his castle he is terrified. He hovers over the sandy monument to protect it. He blocks the waves from the walls he has made. Salt water soaked and shivering he snarls at the incoming tide. “It’s my castle,” He defies.

 

 

The ocean need not respond. Both know to whom the sand belongs. Finally the cliff of water mounts high above the man and his little empire. For just a moment he is shadowed by the wall of water…..then it crashes. His tiny towers of triumph crumble and disperse and he is left on his knees…clutching muddy handfuls of yesterday.

 

If only he had known. If only he had listened. If only…But he, like most, never listens. They aren’t cruel, they aren’t rebellious or angry. But they are blind. They don’t see the setting sun. and they are deaf. They don’t hear the pounding waves. Learn the lesson of the waves and prepare for the end.

 

I don’t know much about sand castles. But children do. Watch them and learn. Go ahead and build, but build with a child’s heart. When the sun sets and the waves strike – applaud. Salute the process of life, take your Father’s hand and go home.

 

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