瓦尔登湖:Former Inhabitants and Winter Visitors5
In the deepest snows, the path which I used from the highway to my house, about half a mile long, might have been represented by a meandering dotted line, with wide intervals between the dots. For a week of even weather I took exactly the same number of steps, and of the same length, coming and going, stepping deliberately and with the precision of a pair of dividers in my own deep tracks ―― to such routine the winter reduces us ―― yet often they were filled with heaven's own blue. But no weather interfered fatally with my walks,or rather my going abroad, for I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech tree, or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines;when the ice and snow causing their limbs to droop, and so sharpening their tops, had changed the pines into fir trees; wading to the tops of the highest hills when the show was nearly two feet deep on a level, and shaking down another snow-storm on my head at every step; or sometimes creeping and floundering thither on my hands and knees, when the hunters had gone into winter quarters. One afternoon I amused myself by watching a barred owl (Strix nebulosa) sitting on one of the lower dead limbs of a white pine,close to the trunk, in broad daylight, I standing within a rod of him. He could hear me when I moved and cronched the snow with my feet, but could not plainly see me. When I made most noise he would stretch out his neck, and erect his neck feathers, and open his eyes wide; but their lids soon fell again, and he began to nod. I too felt a slumberous influence after watching him half an hour, as he sat thus with his eyes half open, like a cat, winged brother of the cat. There was only a narrow slit left between their lids, by which be preserved a pennisular relation to me; thus, with half-shut eyes,looking out from the land of dreams, and endeavoring to realize me,vague object or mote that interrupted his visions. At length, on some louder noise or my nearer approach, he would grow uneasy and sluggishly turn about on his perch, as if impatient at having his dreams disturbed; and when he launched himself off and flapped through the pines, spreading his wings to unexpected breadth, I could not hear the slightest sound from them. Thus, guided amid the pine boughs rather by a delicate sense of their neighborhood than by sight, feeling his twilight way, as it were, with his sensitive pinions, he found a new perch, where he might in peace await the dawning of his day.
As I walked over the long causeway made for the railroad through the meadows, I encountered many a blustering and nipping wind, for nowhere has it freer play; and when the frost had smitten me on one cheek, heathen as I was, I turned to it the other also. Nor was it much better by the carriage road from Brister's Hill. For I came to town still, like a friendly Indian, when the contents of the broad open fields were all piled up between the walls of the Walden road,and half an hour sufficed to obliterate the tracks of the last traveller. And when I returned new drifts would have formed,through which I floundered, where the busy northwest wind had been depositing the powdery snow round a sharp angle in the road, and not a rabbit's track, nor even the fine print, the small type, of a meadow mouse was to be seen. Yet I rarely failed to find, even in midwinter, some warm and springly swamp where the grass and the skunk-cabbage still put forth with perennial verdure, and some hardier bird occasionally awaited the return of spring.
Sometimes, notwithstanding the snow, when I returned from my walk at evening I crossed the deep tracks of a woodchopper leading from my door, and found his pile of whittlings on the hearth, and my house filled with the odor of his pipe. Or on a Sunday afternoon,if I chanced to be at home, I heard the cronching of the snow made by the step of a long-headed farmer, who from far through the woods sought my house, to have a social "crack"; one of the few of his vocation who are "men on their farms"; who donned a frock instead of a professor's gown, and is as ready to extract the moral out of church or state as to haul a load of manure from his barn-yard. We talked of rude and simple times, when men sat about large fires in cold, bracing weather, with clear heads; and when other dessert failed, we tried our teeth on many a nut which wise squirrels have long since abandoned, for those which have the thickest shells are commonly empty.
The one who came from farthest to my lodge, through deepest snows and most dismal tempests, was a poet. A farmer, a hunter, a soldier, a reporter, even a philosopher, may be daunted; but nothing can deter a poet, for he is actuated by pure love. Who can predict his comings and goings? His business calls him out at all hours,even when doctors sleep. We made that small house ring with boisterous mirth and resound with the murmur of much sober talk,making amends then to Walden vale for the long silences. Broadway was still and deserted in comparison. At suitable intervals there were regular salutes of laughter, which might have been referred indifferently to the last-uttered or the forth-coming jest. We made many a "bran new" theory of life over a thin dish of gruel, which combined the advantages of conviviality with the clear-headedness which philosophy requires.
I should not forget that during my last winter at the pond there was another welcome visitor, who at one time came through the village, through snow and rain and darkness, till he saw my lamp through the trees, and shared with me some long winter evenings. One of the last of the philosophers ―― Connecticut gave him to the world ―― he peddled first her wares, afterwards, as he declares, his brains. These he peddles still, prompting God and disgracing man,bearing for fruit his brain only, like the nut its kernel. I think that he must be the man of the most faith of any alive. His words and attitude always suppose a better state of things than other men are acquainted with, and he will be the last man to be disappointed as the ages revolve. He has no venture in the present. But though comparatively disregarded now, when his day comes, laws unsuspected by most will take effect, and masters of families and rulers will come to him for advice.
有时虽然有雪,我散步回来,还发现樵夫的深深的足印从我门口通出来,在火炉上我看到他无目的地削尖的木片,屋中还有他的烟斗的味道。或者在一个星期日的下午,如果我凑巧在家,我听见了一个踏在雪上的悉索之声,是一个长脸的农夫,他老远穿过了森林而来聊天的;是那种“农庄人物”中的少数人物之一;他穿的不是教授的长袍,而是一件工人服;他引用教会或国家的那些道德言论,好比是他在拉一车兽厩中的肥料一样。我们谈到了纯朴和粗野的时代,那时候的人在冷得使人精神焕发的气候中,围着一大堆火焰坐着,个个头脑清楚;如果没有别的水果吃,我们用牙齿来试试那些松鼠早已不吃的坚果,因为那些壳最硬的坚果里面说不定是空的呢。
从离得最远的地方,穿过最深的积雪和最阴惨惨的风暴来到我家的是一位诗人。便是一个农夫,一个猎户,一个兵或一个记者,甚至一个哲学家都可能吓得不敢来的,但是什么也不能阻止一个诗人,他是从纯粹的爱的动机出发的。谁能预言他的来去呢?他的职业,便是在医生都睡觉的时候,也可以使他出门。我们使这小小的木屋中响起了大笑声,还喃喃地作了许多清醒的谈话,弥补了瓦尔登山谷长久以来的沉默。相形之下,百老汇也都显得寂静而且荒凉了。在相当的间歇之后,经常有笑声出现,也可能是为了刚才出口的一句话,也可能是为了一个正要说的笑话。我们一边喝着稀粥,一边谈了许多“全新的”人生哲学,这碗稀粥既可飨客,又适宜于清醒地作哲学的讨论。
我不能忘记,我在湖上居住的最后一个冬天里,还有一位受欢迎的访客,有个时期他穿过了雪、雨和黑暗,直到他从树丛间看见了我的灯火,他和我消磨了好几个长长的冬夜。最后一批哲学家中的一个,――是康涅狄格州把他献给世界的,――他起先推销那个州的商品,后来他宣布要推销他的头脑了。他还在推销头脑,赞扬上帝,斥责世人,只有头脑是他的果实,像坚果里面的果肉一样。我想,他必然是世界上有信心的活人中间信心最强的一人。他的话,他的态度总意味着一切都比别人所了解的好,随着时代的变迁,他恐怕是感到失望的最后一个,目前他并没有计划。虽然现在比较不受人注意,可是,等到他的日子来到,一般人们意想不到的法规就要执行,家长和统治者都要找他征求意见了。
“不识澄清者是何等盲目!”
人类的一个忠诚之友;几乎是人类进步的唯一朋友。一个古老的凡人,不如说是一个不朽的人吧,怀着不倦的耐心和信念,要把人类身上铭刻着的形象说明白,现在人类的神,还不过是神的损毁了的纪念碑,已经倾斜欲坠了。他用慈祥的智力,拥抱了孩子、乞丐、疯子、学者,一切思想都兼容并包,普遍地给它增加了广度以及精度。我想他应该在世界大路上开设一个大旅馆,全世界的哲学家都招待,而在招牌上应该写道:“招待人,不招待他的兽性。有闲暇与平静心情的人有请,要寻找一条正路的人进来。”他大约是最清醒的人,我所认识的人中间最不会勾心斗角的一个;昨天和今天他是同一个人。从前我们散步,我们谈天,很有效地把我们的世界遗弃在后边了,因为他不属于这世界的任何制度,生来自由,异常智巧。不论我们转哪一个弯,天地仿佛都碰了头,固为他增强了风景的美丽。一个穿蓝衣服的人,他的最合适的屋顶便是那苍穹,其中反映着他的澄清。我不相信他会死;大自然是舍不得放他走的。
各自谈出自己的思想,好像把木片都晒干那样,我们坐下来,把它们削尖,试试我们的刀子,欣赏着那些松木的光亮的纹理。我们这样温和地、敬重地涉水而过,或者,我们这样融洽地携手前进,因此我们的思想的鱼并不被吓得从溪流中逃跑,也不怕岸上的钓鱼人,鱼儿庄严地来去,像西边天空中飘过的白云,那珠母色的云有时成了形,有时又消散。我们在那儿工作,考订神话、修正寓言,造空中楼阁,因为地上找不到有价值的基础。伟大的观察者!伟大的预见者!和他谈天是新英格兰之夜的一大享受。啊,我们有这等的谈话,隐士和哲学家、还有我说起过的那个老移民,――我们三个,――谈得小屋子扩大了,震动了:我不敢说,这氛围有多少磅的重量压在每一英寸直径的圆弧上;它裂开的缝,以后要塞进多少愚钝才能防止它漏;――幸亏我已经拣到了不少这一类的麻根和填絮了。
另外还有一个人,住在村中他自己的家里,我跟他有过“极好的共处时间”,永远难忘,他也不时来看我;可是再没有结交别人了。
正如在别处一样,有时我期待那些绝不会到来的客人。毗瑟奴浦蓝那说,“屋主人应于黄昏中,逡巡在大门口,大约有挤一条牛的牛乳之久,必要时可以延长,以守候客来。”我常常这样隆重地守候,时间都够用以挤一群牛的牛乳了,可是总没有看见人从乡镇上来。
英语 文学 散文本文地址:http://www.dioenglish.com/writing/essay/48341.html