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 Millbrook, 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.
獨處
我發現人若大部分時間用於獨處，將有益身心。與人為伴，即使是摯友，也很快會有厭煩或虛度光陰的感覺。我愛獨處，我發現沒有比獨處更好的伴侶了。出國，身在熙攘人群中，要比退守陋室更讓人寂寞。心有所想，身有所係的人總是孤身一人，不論他身處何地。獨處與否也不是由人與人之間的距離來確定。在劍橋苦讀的學子雖身處蜂巢般擁擠的教室，實際上卻和沙漠中的苦行僧一樣，是在獨處。家人終日耕於田間，伐於山野，此時他雖孤單但並不寂寞，因他專心於工作；但待到他日暮而息，卻未必能忍受形影相吊，空有思緒做伴的時光，他必到“可以看見大夥兒”的去處去找樂子，如他所認為的那樣以補償白日裏的孤獨；因此他無法理解學子如何能竟夜終日獨坐而不心生厭倦或倍感淒涼；然而他沒意識到，學子雖身在學堂，但心係勞作，但是耕於心田，伐於學林，這正和農人一樣，學子在尋求的無非是和他一樣的快樂與陪伴，隻是形式更簡潔罷了。
與人交往通常都因唾手可得而毫無價值，在頻繁的相處中，我們無暇從彼此獲取新價值。我們每日三餐相聚，反複讓彼此重新審視的也是依舊故我，並無新奇之處。為此我們要循規蹈矩，稱其為懂禮儀，講禮貌，以便在這些頻繁的接觸中相安無事，無須論戰而有辱斯文。我們相遇在郵局，邂逅在社交場所，圍坐在夜晚的爐火旁，交情甚篤，彼此幹擾著，糾纏著；實際上我認為這樣我們都或多或少失去了對彼此的尊重。對於所有重要的傾心交流，相見不必過頻。想想工廠裏的女孩，她們雖從不落單，但也少有夢想。像這樣方圓一英裏僅一人居住，那情況會更好。人的價值非在肌膚相親，而在心有靈犀。
我的房子裏有很多夥伴，尤其在無人造訪的清晨。我把自己和周圍事物對比一下，你或許能窺見我生活的一斑。比起那湖中長笑的潛鳥，還有那湖，我並不比它們孤獨多少。你看：這孤單的湖又何以為伴呢？然而它那一灣天藍的湖水裏有的卻是天使的純淨，而非魔鬼的憂鬱。太陽是孤獨的，雖然時而在陰鬱的天氣裏會出現兩個太陽，但其中之一為幻日；上帝是孤獨的 – 魔鬼才從不孤單，他永遠不乏夥伴，因從他都甚眾。比起牧場上的一朵毛蕊花，一支蒲公英，一片豆葉，一束酢漿草，一隻牛虻或大黃蜂來，我並不孤單多少；比想密爾溪，風標，北極星，南風，四月春雨，正月融雪，或者新房中的第一隻蜘蛛，我也並不更加孤單。
The article is from a book titled Walden, Or, Life in the Woods By Henry David Thoreau.
來源：[ 美語世界 ] 穀興 於 09-07-11 20:08:00
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