加载中…时间都去哪儿了---作者：强生隆
(2024-10-15 01:08:55) 孤独颂
亚历山大·蒲柏
一个人能将愿望和牵挂
限制在祖传的几顷土地上
他就算是幸福的
他满足于在他自己的土地上
呼吸他乡土的空气
他有牧群供奶 他有田地供粮
他有羊群供他衣着
他的树木在夏季给他阴凉
在冬季为他供火
他幸福 能无忧无虑地感受到
时日和岁月轻松地溜过
心情平安 身体健好
白昼宁静祥和
夜间熟睡 学习与闲情
互相调和;甜美的娱乐
又有最讨人喜欢的天真
与沉思默想结合
因此 让我生活 不为人见 不为人知
因此让我死去 不要为我哀伤
从这世界上偷偷离去 不要为我树立碑石
宣告我躺卧的地方
Ode on Solitude
享受孤独
亨利·戴维·梭罗
On
Solitude
I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of
the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome
and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion
that was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part
more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our
chambers. A man thinking or working is always alone; let him be
where he will. Solitude is not measured by the miles of space that
intervene between a man and his fellows. The really diligent
student in one of the crowded hives of Cambridge College is as
solitary as a dervish in the desert. The farmer can work alone in
the field or the woods all day, hoeing or chopping, and not feel
lonesome, because he is employed; but when he comes home at night
he cannot sit down in a room alone, at the mercy of his thoughts,
but must be where he can: see the folks, and recreate, and, as he
thinks, remunerate himself for his day’s solitude; and hence he
wonders how the student can sit alone in the house all night and
most of the day without ennui and the blues; but he does not
realize that the student, though in the house, is still at work in
his field, and chopping in his woods, as the farmer in his, and in
turn seeks the same recreation and society that the latter does,
though it may be a more condensed form of
it.
Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very
short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for
each other. We meet at meals three times a day, and give each other
a new taste of that old musty cheese that we are. We have had to
agree on a certain set of rules, called etiquette and politeness,
to make this frequent meeting tolerable and that we need not come
to open war. We meet at the post office, and at the sociable, and
about the fireside every night; we live thick and are in each
other’s way, and stumble over one another, and I think that we thus
lose some respect for one another. Certainly less frequency would
suffice for all important and hearty communications. Consider the
girls in a factory—never alone, hardly in their dreams. It would be
better if there were but one inhabitant to a square mile, as where
I live. The value of a man is not in his skin, that we should touch
him.
I have a great deal of
company in my house; especially in the morning, when nobody calls.
Let me suggest a few comparisons, that some one may convey an idea
of my situation. I am no more lonely than the loon in the pond that
laughs so loud, or than Walden Pond itself. What company has that
lonely lake, I pray?
And yet it has not the blue
devils, but the blue angels in it, in the azure tint of its waters.
The sun is alone, except in thick weather, when there sometimes
appear to be two, but one is a mock sun. God is alone—but the
devil, he is far from being alone; he sees a great deal of company;
he is legion. I am no more lonely than a single mullein or
dandelion in a pasture, or a bean leaf, or sorrel, or a horse-fly,
or a bumblebee. I am no more lonely than the Mill Creek, or a
weathercock, or the north star, or the south wind, or an April
shower, or a January thaw, or the first spider in a new
house .
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