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好文共赏

(2023-08-09 12:42:12)

无常

作者：雪莱-译者;查良铮

我们象遮蔽午夜之月的云彩

它一刻不停地奔跑闪耀颤栗

向黑暗放出灿烂的光辉 —但很快

夜幕合拢了它就永远隐去

又象被忘却的琴不调和的弦

每次拨弄都发出不同的音响

在那纤弱的乐器上每次重弹

情调和音节都不会和前次一样

我们睡下一场梦能毒戕安息

我们起来游思又会玷污白天

我们感觉思索想象笑或哭泣

无论抱住悲伤或者摔脱忧烦

终归是一样 —因为呵在这世间

无论是喜悦或悲伤都会溜走

我们的明日从不再象昨天

唉除了“无常”一切都不肯停留

人生如诗

我以为，从生物学角度看，人的一生恰如诗歌。人生自有其韵律和节奏，自有内在的生成与衰亡。人生始于无邪的童年，经过少年的青涩，带着激情与无知，理想与雄心，笨拙而努力地走向成熟；后来人到壮年，经历渐广，阅人渐多，涉世渐深，收益也渐大；及至中年，人生的紧张得以舒缓，人的性格日渐成熟，如芳馥之果实，如醇美之佳酿，更具容忍之心，处世虽更悲观，但对人生的态度趋于和善；再后来就是人生迟暮，内分泌系统活动减少，若此时吾辈已经悟得老年真谛，并据此安排残年，那生活将和平，宁静，安详而知足；终于，生命之烛摇曳而终熄灭，人开始永恒的长眠，不再醒来。

Mutability

By Shelley

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon

How restlessly they speed and gleam, and quiver

Streaking the darkness radiantly —yet soon

Night closes round and they are lost forever

Or like forgotten lyres whose dissonant strings

Give various response to each varying blast

To whose frail frame no second motion brings

One mood or modulation like the last

We rest —A dream has power to poison sleep

We rise —One wandering thought pollutes the day

We feel conceive or reason laugh or weep

Embrace fond woe or cast our cares away

It is the same!—For be it joy or sorrow

The path of its departure still is free

Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow

Nought may endure but Mutability

Human Life a Poem

I think that, from a biological standpoint, human life almost reads like a poem. It has its own rhythm and beat, its internal cycles of growth and decay. It begins with innocent childhood, followed by awkward adolescence trying awkwardly to adapt itself to mature society, with its young passions and follies, its ideals and ambitions; then it reaches a manhood of intense activities, profiting from experience and learning more about society and human nature; at middle age,there is a slight easing of tension, a mellowing of character like the ripening of fruit or the mellowing of good wine, and the gradual acquiring of a more tolerant, more cynical and at the same time a kindlier view of life; then In the sunset of our life, the endocrine glands decrease their activity, and if we have a true philosophy of old age and have ordered our life pattern according to it, it is for us the age of peace and security and leisure and contentment; finally, life flickers out and one goes into eternal sleep, never to wake up again.

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