流浪 vs 在路上

（五伯寫得。很漂亮的英語，認真讀過，存在這裏。）

A Journey That Sees No Ending: A Diary Around World in Sixty Days

Day 1: An Old Man and Bay

I woke up at six. After fifteen hours of flight I landed on another side of the globe, where days used to be nights and vice versa. The sleep, of only three hours, was light and brief. Yet I did not feel the fatigue nor the urge to go back into that dreamless sleep. Perhaps I had slept all the way on my intercontinental flight. I am not sure; maybe it’s more a faint loss of conscience, a resignation, or a willing wandering into the realm of half sleep, half awake.

Anyway, I was awaken, I reckon, by songs of the early birds and hymns of tireless cicadas. This place, a sub-tropical region hanging on the southern tip of the continent, is already in the dead heat of its notoriously long and suffocating summer. I was standing in front of the window. The guesthouse sits atop a steep hill full of greenery; lush bushes and foliages thrive.

The room overlooks the bay. Thanks to my host; he has always been considerate of my pity, superficial obsession in vision pleasure, and has always managed to arrange for a room with view. But this is no time for view. I rose before the view had. It was all too early. The sky was gray and somber, as if it had yet to gather its broken pieces together from dark night. This is typical, I know it well. In my numerous visits to this part of the world, the sky has perpetually felt foggy, wet, thick, creamy, and lonesome.

I made a cup of coffee for myself. You know, the kind of lousy, Nestle instant coffee you find in hotels all over the world. I hate its taste—that is no taste--and the more I hate its uniformity, one of the evils done by Industrialization and perfected by Americans. Speaking of the latter, I have constantly been marveled by the capacity of Americans to turn everything, every colorful, distinctive subject into one identical and boring. Can one say, being identical means no identity? Where would one find the curiosity to explore the unknowns then, if identity carries no significance?

Well, I know, I have let my thoughts wandered too far. And so I pulled myself back. I went back to the window. In sips of coffee, the sky was opening up a bit. I could tell, that the Sun is already up somewhere; though still hiding behind the thick clouds, it could not refrain itself from sneaking a few rays through. Then more of it unveils, not from above, but from the ocean surface. I see a goldenly bright part of the bay. The water appears to boil, and my eyes are scorched and pained by the stare.

So I moved my eyesight further. In a distance I saw a boat cuts across the bay. It moves slowly, almost still, and the white, prestine sail appears unmoving. Sail, sail, I mumbled to myself. It reminded me of a name, a name of someone who lives a world away. Would she ever know I am thinking of her at this moment? Most likely not; maybe she is watching the prime time news, or she is striving on her treadmill, trying to get a few ounces lean? I wouldn’t know. I have not been known to be good at imagining things. My imagination is often limited by my vision, but my vision now cannot go beyond the bay.
It is time to have breakfast, so I tell myself, that this is a way to cut the loose thinking. So I went downstairs, eight floors down. I walked in the bistro. It is Saturday morning, and the whole place seems so quiet and deserted. In fact, I was all by myself. I sat down, looked around, and to my amazement, in this neat, somewhat bourgeois little cafe, they hang two Van Gogh’s: Café Terrace by Night and Road with Man Walking. Oh, man, can you believe it? There I am, nothing else on the walls but two Van Gogh’s! The cypress, the crescent moon, the couple arm in arm, and the eternal starry Provincial sky, there they are, that have had so deep a mark on my life and have for so long and with such persistence evoked my deeply buried emotion. Would you ever know, how many times I have sit in a lonely roadside chair thinking of the nonexistent you, one just like in the Van Gogh’s? And could you ever imagine, how many more times will I do that again in my remaining journey?

So I thought I need to do something. Maybe writing a diary is a good way for an old man. But then I am not sure. I never kept a diary and I disdain routines; recording times and days that are so uneventful must be a dreadful routine, I surmise. I’ll have to see how far I can go. I also wrestled with the thoughts of whether I should write in Chinese or English. I decide on the latter, for I was told there are some top-notch bilinguists here who love translating one into another. To top it over, I heard there is a guy named Wu Zi Han who can chew and spit a dozen some world languages like doing a chewing gum. I need to leave some work to such able people like him …

我的跟貼，挑出 I made a cup of coffee 一節：我還以為這是中國特色，看來美國的流水批量生產能力更厲害。 幸虧幸虧不入主流。

想了一會，也沒想通，是什麽速度能使60天走一 Journey That Sees No Ending，如果地球是半徑為R=6.4*10^6m的園，不計空氣阻力,但要考慮地球自轉作用。。。

 

Day 2: A Thunderous Night http://www.bbstar.com/viewtopic.php?t=46803

摘一段：[ It all started from the wee hours of last night, well before dawn. I was waken again, unexpectedly, from sound sleep. This time it was thunder and lightening. I lay motionless on my back, hearing the uproaring thunders like eruption of a thousand volcanos, and seeing the lightenings moving on the ceiling like waves. These are massively loud thunders and lightenings I have long forgot. It was sheer power and awe! Unable to sleep further, I got up, lifted the curtain, and expected to witness some spectacle. It was indeed. The lightening, so swift and intense, lit the entire bay and the ocean in an unbelievably brilliant moment. Everything, I mean every detail, is revealed under that crushing strike. I was awestruck, and even shivered, in total admiration of the nature’s power to carry out its will. If I could ever live my life the same way! ]

想想很想不通，昨夜也是電閃雷鳴，吵得一塌糊塗。 一個一個雷聲在劈裏啪啦德雨點裏炸響，閃電，時不時地劃破黑幕衝進我的房間。孩子們，我知道，他們被這白日的夜晚鬧得不能入睡。 我拍拍身邊的女兒，她便無聲地靠過來，摟住我。 可是，當我轉向文字，這個強大無比的令人敬畏的自然又變得誘人向往。。。

雷電漸漸遠去。雨，一直在下，伴我綿綿入夢……人進人出。

夢裏，我是知道在下雨的，我也知道在做夢，於是我打開大門。

Day 3: Where is your Ithaca, who is your home? http://www.bbstar.com/viewtopic.php?t=46832 


摘兩段：

But I must continue to write, for writing is the only means I have in my possession to “lure” a her back, so that she can see and feel how my heart thrills and trembles for her.

Strangely, my mind also digresses a bit to Odysseus, the man who on twenty years of voyage thought nothing but the return to his home. I wondered, in his subconscience, deep in his heart, was he really thinking of that architecture or rather, Penelope, the woman living within? Why would he be so much at loss after he actually returned to his own land? Is it really because he had lay his fortunes of twenty years outside Ithaca? It is so said, but I doubted the wisdom; at the very least, one cannot be so assertive in reaching this conclusion. What could be the true cause then? Could it be Calypso? Has anyone ever thought, that on his wandering of twenty years, Calypso might have, just might, become his Ithaca?

第一眼我就問了，這第一句，嚴重需要中文翻譯.          

翻譯的說：何處是你魂牽夢縈的故土，誰人又是你心的依歸？

看了一晚上的伊薩卡或者綺色佳。我喜歡這個伊薩卡，他使我感覺到那種州在異鄉街道上一刹那湧出的熟悉，時空錯亂的感覺。什麽是魂牽夢縈的故土？如果回到過去，是否也會在窗口，懷想起這個伊薩卡的時光呢？那簡直就是一定的。每次回國歸來，車一上路，就有那種熟悉的久違的回到伊薩卡的感覺。我覺得Ithaca 點明更好些。

何處是你的伊薩卡，誰人又是你心的依歸？

Day 4: Moon Hangs over the Bay http://www.bbstar.com/viewtopic.php?t=46865

摘出很美的，流浪者之歌：

Songs of A Wanderer In a cold rainy night I walked alone I was walking on streets of cobblestone Having traveled far and wandered long I was searching for a teetered sword and lost throne I was neither a king nor a knight The Wanderer is the name they called me by I had neither kingdom nor castle I quest for no legend nor Camelot I had no mission nor destination But only threads from a battered dream That a fair maiden never before seen Stood on doorsteps by a river bend Her hairs were adorned by carnation Her eyes gleamed like new crescent She wore a white gown that's made of a dove's wing She was for all, an Iris atop the clear stream And so I had been a traveler on the road I wandered to nowhere but everywhere I searched in all corners of the earth and globe Months had gone by, then year after year On my road I built in my heart a mighty castle That I call her Camelot On the green fields and by the river bend The fortress is to be guarded by my sword And so in a cold rainy night I was walking alone Lost in a village and alleys unknown Seeing it nowhere to find the river bend I thought: perhaps my quest is to its end And suddenly I saw a light dim and flickering Right ahead a young maiden at the tavern She stood on the narrow steps head bent And in her hands she carried a lotus lantern I heard the gentle voice I'd heard in the dream I saw the light Earendil of Lothlorien "Welcome, stranger, no more fear of cold Come, come to home, your poor soul"

 

想起這個：解劍獨行殘月，披衣困臥清風。 夢蝶猶飛旅枕， 粥魚已響枯桐。

寫下這個：

寒雨瀝瀝夜不明
獨行，
卵石巷陌漫無期
尋尋覓覓
何處劍走冠遺

非帝非臣騎非王騎
名矣，
逍遙浪遊旅人
無國無城無寸地
尋尋覓覓
不為卡米洛城傳奇
。。。。。

 

Day 5: Three Amigos http://www.bbstar.com/viewtopic.php?t=46984


載一段：Dubbed Three Tenors, we reached our heyday at essentially the same time. That was the year 2000 at Sydney. We bathed in glory, and gleefully called ourselves the Three Amigos. The days of glory were short though. We were quickly over the hump. Seven years later, look at where we are, declined, spent, and utterly defeated by time. It seemed never possible to reproduce the glory, even for a fraction of a second.

難道7年後，或者5年後我會想起著段話？ 如果要換一說法，是不是該注意 1）結義不可三瘦子，2）bath 不要在山頂， 3）旅途選那種山巒起伏的風景地。。。。

BTW， you guys are still in glory in my eyes and probably more charming~~ --ZTZT

Day 6: Tonight I am lonesome

 I have no strength nor desire to write, in fact.

Went to dine at the city’s most upscale restaurant with the two friends. It was a visual extravaganza. The view is unparallel, the surrounding is romantic, and the food is exquisite. Everything, of course, is pricey, but well worthwhile.

Such wonderful night, such spectacular view. But I found it hard to focus. It makes me sad that I was having all these while you don’t. It makes me even sadder that I have them all but you.

Tender is the night, but how am I going to rest my longing in this seemingly endless night?

讀後感：浪人之歌

浪人歌， 人生如寄可奈何。
春秋來去傳鴻燕，朝暮出沒奔嫦娥。
青絲冉冉上霜雪，十年風華彈指過。
山頂未必勝庭院，何處不是浪人窩。
清風明月不用買，上嵐風景同下坡。

浪人歌，人生如寄可奈何。
鴻燕高飛浮雲下，蝴蝶不能過海河。
水光林影碌碌忙，天荒地老也寂寞。
千古帝王歸墓陵，畫餅功名空奔波。
良辰易失夢終醒，舊江新愁情難磨。

浪人歌，逍遙舊曲為君酌。
臨風飲，笑嗬嗬
醉亦一夢婆，詩亦一夢婆。