有一位朋友最喜欢的一段话来自华兹华斯的《丁登寺旁》特出此辑
Lisa An
辜鸿铭写道，中国人“过着孩子般的生活——种心灵的生活”，因此，“与其说中国人的发展受到了阻碍，不如说它是一个永不衰老的民族”，一个“拥有了永葆青春的秘密”的民族。这个“像孩童一样过着心灵生活”的民族，对于抽象的、刻板的科学技术当然是没有兴趣的。辜鸿铭以此回应和解释西方人关于中国人的一种根深蒂固的套话：“中国人缺乏精确性”。他形象地说：“中国的毛笔或许可以被视为中国人精神的象征。用毛笔书写绘画非常困难，好像也难以精确，但是一旦掌握了它，你就能够得心应手，创造出美妙优雅的书画来，而用西方坚硬的钢笔是无法获得这种效果的。”在辜鸿铭看来，不屑于精确的中国人，其“赤子之心”和“成年人的智慧”有机地融为一体，达到了“心灵与理智的完美谐和”：这就是历史悠久的中华民族“永葆青春的秘密”。他引用“最具中国味道的英国诗人华滋华斯”的长诗《丁登寺》，展现出中国人心灵与理智完美结合而产生的那种“安详恬静、如沐天恩的心境”。正是这种心灵状态和精神境界，赋予了中国人那种“难以言状的温良”。
Tintern Abbey
1798
--William Wordsworth
FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur. -- Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone.
These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration: -- feelings too
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened: -- that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on, --
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
If this
Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft --
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart --
How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,
O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!
And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity,
The picture of the mind revives again:
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope,
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature led: more like a man
Flying from something that he dreads, than one
Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all. -- I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye. -- That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompence. For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear, -- both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
Of all my moral being.
Nor perchance,
If I were not thus taught, should I the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once,
My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make,
Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy: for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance --
If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence -- wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love -- oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!
By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).
[Composed A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting The Banks Of The Wye During A Tour. July 13, 1798.]
丁登寺旁
威廉·华兹华斯 （王佐良 译）
五年过去了，五个夏天，加上
长长的五个冬天！我终于又听见
这水声，这从高山滚流而下的泉水，
带着柔和的内河的潺潺。
——我又一次
看到这些陡峭挺拔的山峰，
这里已经是幽静的野地，
它们却使人感到更加清幽，
把眼前景物一直挂上宁静的高天。
这个日子又来到了，我能再一次站在这里，
傍着这棵苍翠的槭树，俯览脚下，
各处村舍的园地，种满果树的山坡，
由于季节未到，果子未结，
只见果树一片葱绿，
隐没在灌木和树林之中。我又一次
看到了树篱，也许称不上篱，
而是一行行活泼顽皮的小树精；
看到了田园的绿色，一直绿到家门；
一片沉寂的树林里升起了袅袅炊烟，
烟的来处难定，或许是
林中有无家的流浪者在走动，
或许是有隐士住在山洞，现在正
独坐火旁。
这些美好的形体
虽已久别，倒从来不曾忘怀，
不是像盲人看不到美景，
而是每当我孤居喧闹的城市，
寂寞而疲惫的时候，
它们带来甜蜜的感觉，
让我从血液里心脏里感到，
甚至还进入我最纯洁的思想，
使我恢复了恬静：——还有许多感觉，
使我回忆起已经忘却的愉快，它们对
一个良善的人最宝贵的岁月
有过绝非细微、琐碎的影响，
一些早已忘记的无名小事，
但饱含着善意和爱。不仅如此，
我还靠它们得到另一种能力，
更高的能力，一种幸福的心情，
忽然间人世的神秘感，
整个无法理解的世界的
沉重感疲惫感的压力
减轻了；一种恬静和幸福的心情，
听从温情引导我们前进，
直到我们这躯壳中止了呼吸，
甚至我们的血液也暂停流动，
我们的身体入睡了，
我们变成一个活的灵魂，
这时候我们的眼睛变得冷静，由于和谐的力量，
也由于欢乐的深入的力量，
我们看得清事物的内在生命。
也许这只是
一种错觉，可是啊，多少次
在黑暗中，在各色各样无聊的白天里，
当无益的纷扰和世界的热病
沉重地压在我的心上，
使它不住地狂跳，多少次
在精神上我转向你，啊，树影婆娑的怀河！
你这穿越树林而流的漫游者，
多少次我的精神转向了你！
而现在，依稀犹见昔日思想的余光，
带着许多模糊朦胧的记认，
还多少有一点怅然的困惑，
心里的图景回来了；
我站在这里，不仅感到
当前的愉快，而且愉快地想到
眼前这一刻包含了将来岁月的
生命和粮食。至少我敢这样希望，
虽然我无疑已经改变，早不是
我初来这山上的光景；那时节我象一头小鹿，
腾跳山岭间，遨游大河两岸，
徘徊在凄寂的溪水旁边，
去大自然指引的任何地方，与其说是
追求所爱的东西，更象是
逃避所怕的东西。因为自从
我儿童时代的粗糙的乐趣
和动物般的行径消逝了之后，
大自然成了我的一切。——我无法描画
当年的自己。瀑布的轰鸣
日夜缠住我，像一种情欲；大块岩石，
高山，深密而幽暗的树林，
它们的颜色和形体，当时是我的
强烈嗜好，一种体感，一种爱欲，
无需思想来提供长远的雅兴，
也无需官感以外的
任何趣味。－这个时期过去了，
所有它的半带痛苦的欢乐消失了，
连同所有它的令人昏眩的狂喜。我再也不为这些
沮丧，哀伤，诉怨，我得到了
别的能力，完全能低偿
所失的一切，因为我学会了
怎样看待大自然，不再似青年时期
不用头脑，而且经常听得到
人生的低柔而忧郁的乐声
不粗厉，不刺耳，却有足够的力量
使人沉静而服帖。我感到
有物令我惊起，它带来了
崇高思想的欢乐，一种超脱之感，
象是有高度融合的东西
来自落日的余晖，
来自大洋和清新的空气，
来自蓝天和人的心灵，
一种动力，一种精神，推动
一切有思想的东西，一切思想的对象，
穿过一切东西而运行。所以我仍然
热爱草原，树林，山峰，
一切从这绿色大地能见到的东西，
一切凭眼和耳所能感觉到的，
也像想象创造的。我高兴地发现：
在大自然和感觉的语言里，
我找到了最纯洁的思想的支撑，心灵的保姆，
引导、保护者，我整个道德生命的
灵魂。
也许即使
我没有得到这种教育，我也不至于
遭受天生能力的毁蚀，
因为有你陪着我在这美丽的
河岸上，你呀，我最亲爱的的朋友，
我的亲而又亲的朋友，在你的声音里
我听到了我过去心灵的语言，
在你那流星般的无畏的双眼里
我重温了我过去的愉快。但愿我能
在你身上多看一会我过去的自己，
我的亲而又亲的妹妹！我要祈祷，
我知道大自然从来不曾背弃
任何爱她的心，她有特殊的力量
能够把我们一生的岁月
从欢乐引向欢乐，由于她能够
充实我们身上的心智，用
宁静和美感来影响我们，
用崇高的思想来养育我们，使得
流言蜚语、急性的判断、自私者的冷嘲、
硬心汉的随口应付，日常人生里的
全部阴郁的交际
都不能压倒我们，不能扰乱
我们愉快的信念，相信我们所见的
一切都充满幸福。因此让月光
照着你在路上独行吧，
让雾里的山风随意地
吹拂你吧，在以后的岁月里，
当这些按捺不住的狂喜变成了
清醒的乐趣，当你的心灵
变成了一切美好形体的大厦，
当你的记忆象家屋一般容得下
一切甜美的乐声和谐音；啊，那时候，
纵使孤独、恐惧、痛苦、哀伤
成为你的命运，你又将带着怎样亲切的喜悦
想起我，想起我今天这番嘱咐
而感到安慰！即使我去了
不能再听到你的声音的地方，
不能再在你那无畏的眼里看见
我过去生活的亮光，你也不会忘记
我俩曾在这条可爱的河岸
并肩站着；不会忘记我这个长期崇拜
大自然的人，重来次地，崇敬之心
毫未减弱，而是怀着
更热烈的爱——啊，更深的热诚，
更神圣的爱；那时候你更不会忘记
经过多年的流浪，多年的离别，
这些高大的树林，耸立的山峰，
者绿色的田园景色，对我更加亲切
半因为它们自己，半因为你的缘故！
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