I think that, from a biological standpoint, human life almost reads like a poem. It has its own rhythm and beat, its internal cycles of growth and decay. It begins with innocent childhood, followed by awkward adolescence trying awkwardly to adapt itself to mature society, with its young passions and follies, its ideals and ambitions; then it reaches a manhood of intense activities, profiting from experience and learning more about society and human nature; at middle age, there is a slight easing of tension, a mellowing of character like the ripening of fruit or the mellowing of good wine, and the gradual acquiring of a more tolerant, more cynical and at the same time a kindlier view of life; then In the sunset of our life, the endocrine glands decrease their activity, and if we have a true philosophy of old age and have ordered our life pattern according to it, it is for us the age of peace and security and leisure and contentment; finally, life flickers out and one goes into eternal sleep, never to wake up again.
One should be able to sense the beauty of this rhythm of life, to appreciate, as we do in grand symphonies, its main theme, its strains of conflict and the final resolution. The movements of these cycles are very much the same in a normal life, but the music must be provided by the individual himself. In some souls, the discordant note becomes harsher and harsher and finally overwhelms or submerges the main melody. Sometimes the discordant note gains so much power that the music can no longer go on, and the individual shoots himself with a pistol or jump into a river. But that is because his original leitmotif has been hopelessly over-showed through the lack of a good self-education. Otherwise the normal human life runs to its normal end in kind of dignified movement and procession. There are sometimes in many of us too many staccatos or impetuosos, and because the tempo is wrong, the music is not pleasing to the ear; we might have more of the grand rhythm and majestic tempo o the Ganges, flowing slowly and eternally into the sea.
No one can say that life with childhood, manhood and old age is not a beautiful arrangement; the day has its morning, noon and sunset, and the year has its seasons, and it is good that it is so. There is no good or bad in life, except what is good according to its own season. And if we take this biological view of life and try to live according to the seasons, no one but a conceited fool or an impossible idealist can deny that human life can be lived like a poem. Shakespeare has expressed this idea more graphically in his passage about the seven stages of life, and a good many Chinese writers have said about the same thing. It is curious that Shakespeare was never very religious, or very much concerned with religion. I think this was his greatness; he took human life largely as it was, and intruded himself as little upon the general scheme of things as he did upon the characters of his plays. Shakespeare was like Nature itself, and that is the greatest compliment we can pay to a writer or thinker. He merely lived, observed life and went away.
譯文:
人生如詩
我以為,從生物學(xué)角度看,人的一生恰如詩歌。人生自有其韻律和節(jié)奏,自有內(nèi)在的生成與衰亡。人生始于無邪的童年,經(jīng)過少年的青澀,帶著激情與無知,理想與雄心,笨拙而努力地走向成熟;后來人到壯年,經(jīng)歷漸廣,閱人漸多,涉世漸深,收益也漸大;及至中年,人生的緊張得以舒緩,人的性格日漸成熟,如芳馥之果實,如醇美之佳釀,更具容忍之心,處世雖更悲觀,但對人生的態(tài)度趨于和善;再后來就是人生遲暮,內(nèi)分泌系統(tǒng)活動減少,若此時吾輩已經(jīng)悟得老年真諦,并據(jù)此安排殘年,那生活將和平,寧靜,安詳而知足;終于,生命之燭搖曳而終熄滅,人開始永恒的長眠,不再醒來。
人們當(dāng)學(xué)會感受生命韻律之美,像聽交響樂一樣,欣賞其主旋律、激昂的高潮和舒緩的尾聲。這些反復(fù)的樂章對于我們的生命都大同小異,但個人的樂曲卻要自己去譜寫。在某些人心中,不和諧音會越來越刺耳,最終竟然能掩蓋主曲;有時不和諧音會積蓄巨大的能量,令樂曲不能繼續(xù),這時人們或舉槍自殺或投河自盡。
這是他最初的主題被無望地遮蔽,只因他缺少自我教育。否則,常人將以體面的運動和進程走向既定的終點。在我們多數(shù)人胸中常常會有太多的斷奏或強音,那是因為節(jié)奏錯了,生命的樂曲因此而不再悅耳。我們應(yīng)該如恒河,學(xué)她氣勢恢弘而豪邁地緩緩流向大海。
人生有童年、少年和老年,誰也不能否認(rèn)這是一種美好的安排,一天要有清晨、正午和日落,一年要有四季之分,如此才好。人生本無好壞之分,只是各個季節(jié)有各自的好處。如若我們持此種生物學(xué)的觀點,并循著季節(jié)去生活,除了狂妄自大的傻瓜和無可救藥的理想主義者,誰能說人生不能像詩一般度過呢。莎翁在他的一段話中形象地闡述了人生分七個階段的觀點,很多中國作家也說過類似的話。奇怪的是,莎士比亞并不是虔誠的宗教徒,也不怎么關(guān)心宗教。我想這正是他的偉大之處,他對人生秉著順其自然的態(tài)度,他對生活之事的干涉和改動很少,正如他對戲劇人物那樣。莎翁就像自然一樣,這是我們能給作家或思想家的最高褒獎。對人生,他只是一路經(jīng)歷著,觀察著,離我們遠(yuǎn)去了。
「標(biāo)簽: 高中英語演講稿」
