傳世經典

Ｇｅｏｒｇｅ Ｇｉｓｓｉｎｇ/文 趙秀明／譯

... Above all， on days such as this， when the blue eyes of Spring laughed from between rosy clouds， when the sunlight shimmered upon my table and made me long， long all but to madness， for the scent of the flowering earth， for the green of hillside larches， for the singing of the skylark above the downs. There was a time-it seems further away than childhood——when I took up my pen with eagerness; if my hand trembled it was with hope. But a hope that fooled me， for never a page of my writing deserved to live. I can say that now without bitterness. It was youthful error， and only the force of circumstance prolonged it. The world has done me no injustice; thank Heaven I have grown wise enough not to rail at it for this! And why should any man who writes， even if he write things immortal， nurse anger at the world＇s neglect? Who asked him to publish? Who promised him a hearing? Who has broken faith with him? If my shoemaker turn me out an excellent pair of boots， and I， in some mood of cantankerous unreason， throw them back upon his hands， the man has just cause of complaint. But your poem， your novel， who bargained with you for it? If it is honest journeywork， yet lacks purchasers， at most you may call yourself a hapless tradesman. If it come from on high， with what decency do you fret and fume because it is not paid for in heavy cash? For the work of man＇s mind there is one test， and one alone， the judgment of generations yet unborn. If you have written a great book， the world to come will know of it. But you don＇t care for posthumous glory. You want to enjoy fame in a comfortable armchair. Ah， that is quite another thing. Have the courage of your desire. Admit yourself a merchant， and protest to gods and men that the merchandise you offer is of better quality than much which sells for a high price. You may be right， and indeed it is hard upon you that Fashion does not turn to your stall.

……當春天從玫瑰紅的云彩中露出她的碧眼，當陽光在我的書桌上閃爍時，我渴望的發瘋般地聞一聞那百花綻放的大地的芳香，看一看那山坡上落葉松的蔥郁，聽一聽高地上云雀的歌唱#65377;曾幾何時，似乎比童年還要遙遠的那個時刻，我滿腔熱情地拿起了筆#65377;如果那時我的手在顫抖，那也只是因為希望的緣故#65377;然而這種希望卻讓我失望，因為我所寫的每一頁文字，絲毫沒有存留人間的價值#65377;這話是我現在才可以這樣毫無痛苦地坦言的，而在青年時，迫于環境，我不時會冒出種種非分的想法#65377;其實，這個世界對我并沒有什么不公平，我還得感謝上蒼，它使我變得如此明智，再不會因此而怨天尤人了!天下著者，何其多矣，即使他揮筆寫出了不朽之作，又怎能對塵世的冷落心存怨恨呢?難道有誰強求過他出版作品了?有誰允諾過要傾聽他的聲音了?還是有誰失信于他了嗎?正如鞋匠為我制作了一雙無可挑剔的鞋子，而我卻因一時興起，無緣無故地將靴子仍還給他，那他是有正當理由抱怨的#65377;然而你寫詩作文，又有誰與你約定呢?倘若你的寫作純粹是出于鬻文為生，卻找不到買主，那你最多也只能抱怨自己是一個運氣不佳的商販罷了#65377;如果你的作品確有造化賦予的靈感，那么僅僅因為沒有得到高額報償而惱怒，又怎么合適呢?至于那些出自心靈深處的文字，那就自有其惟一的評判標準，那就是讓后人去評說#65377;倘若你寫出一部偉大的著作，后世自然會有論定#65377;也許你并不關心這身后的榮耀，你只想現在躺在舒適的扶椅上，享受這生時的名望#65377;哎，這就另當別論了#65377;果真如此，那你就鼓起勇氣去追求你的欲望吧#65377;承認自己是一個商販，并與上蒼與眾生據理力爭，說你所兜售的貨物，比許多售價很高的貨物品質更佳#65377;那么你也許是對的#65377;然而，即使這樣，人們卻沒有涌向你的貨攤，那真是令人痛苦了#65377;