介绍:
2021年11月12日 瓦尔登湖三人行（120）直播实况录制 晚8:00——9:00
文本
Walden [ˈwɔldən] (Issue 120)
9. The Ponds (14)
[24] Now the trunks of trees on the bottom, and the old log canoe, and the dark surrounding woods, are gone, and the villagers, who scarcely know where it lies, instead of going to the pond to bathe or drink, are thinking to bring its water, which should be as sacred as the Ganges at least, to the village in a pipe, to wash their dishes with! - to earn their Walden by the turning of a cock or drawing of a plug! That devilish Iron Horse, whose ear-rending neigh is heard throughout the town, has muddied the Boiling Spring with his foot, and he it is that has browsed off all the woods on Walden shore, that Trojan horse, with a thousand men in his belly, introduced by mercenary[ˈmɜːsɪnərɪ] Greeks! Where is the country's champion, the Moore of Moore-Hall, to meet him at the Deep Cut and thrust an avenging lance between the ribs of the bloated pest?
[25] Nevertheless, of all the characters I have known, perhaps Walden wears best, and best preserves its purity. Many men have been likened to it, but few deserve that honor. Though the woodchoppers have laid bare first this shore and then that, and the Irish have built their sties by it, and the railroad has infringed on its border, and the ice-men have skimmed it once, it is itself unchanged, the same water which my youthful eyes fell on; all the change is in me. It has not acquired one permanent wrinkle after all its ripples. It is perennially young, and I may stand and see a swallow dip apparently to pick an insect from its surface as of yore. It struck me again tonight, as if I had not seen it almost daily for more than twenty years - Why, here is Walden, the same woodland lake that I discovered so many years ago; where a forest was cut down last winter another is springing up by its shore as lustily as ever; the same thought is welling up to its surface that was then; it is the same liquid joy and happiness to itself and its Maker, ay, and it may be to me. It is the work of a brave man surely, in whom there was no guile[ɡaɪl]奸诈! He rounded this water with his hand, deepened and clarified it in his thought, and in his will bequeathed it to Concord. I see by its face that it is visited by the same reflection; and I can almost say, Walden, is it you?
It is no dream of mine,
To ornament a line;
I cannot come nearer to God and Heaven
Than I live to Walden even.
I am its stony shore,
And the breeze that passes o'er;
In the hollow of my hand
Are its water and its sand,
And its deepest resort
Lies high in my thought.
现在那些湖底的树，那只老独木舟，那茂密的树林都走了，村民也很少知道它们去了哪里，不是到湖中沐浴和饮水，而是想着引它的水，那水可至少是和恒河的水一样圣洁的，却要用一根管子引到村子去洗它们的盘子！——去赢得他们的瓦尔登通过转一个把手或拉一个活塞！而那魔鬼般的铁马它刺耳的嘶鸣全镇子都听得见，用它的脚搅浑波尔灵春泉的水，是它掳掠了瓦尔登岸边所有林木。那特洛伊木马，肚子里塞着成千的人，是由唯利是图的希腊人引来！那捍卫乡村的勇士，在“深口子地”，曾用复仇的长矛猛戳这傲慢毒虫肋骨的摩尔大厅的摩尔人/在哪里？
无论如何，就我所知的所有品质，也许瓦尔登湖所具备的最好的，也就是最好保留着它的纯洁。有很多人可以比喻为它，但少有人当得起这荣耀。尽管伐木人已经先是砍光了这边岸，接着又砍那边岸。那爱尔兰人也在旁边建了他们肮脏的猪圈，铁路也在它边上绕行，取冰人也一度铲它，可它本身并没有变，还是涌入我青年时期眼帘的那水;只是我自己变了。在它起了那么多柔波之后还是没有添上一条皱纹。它永远年轻，我还能站着看一只燕子点水/明显从湖面抓起一只昆虫，像往昔。它今晚又让我激动，仿佛有二十年了，似乎几乎不是天天看到它——哎呀，这就是瓦尔登湖，我好多年前发现的同样的林地湖；在那里去年冬天一个森林被砍伐，另一个森林又在岸边涌现同样充满生机；相同的思绪涌上水面和过去一样；还是它自身快乐和幸福的源泉，也属于它的造物主，唔，也许同样属于我。它当然是一个勇者的作品，在那人身上没有狡诈！他用手围起这水，在思想中深邃和澄明它，留下自己的遗嘱，馈赠它给予康科德。我看着它的脸，那还是先前被拜访时的模样，几乎忍不住要说，瓦尔登，它是你吗？
那不是我的梦,
去装点一行诗;
我不能比住在瓦尔登
更加靠近上帝和天堂
我是它鹅卵石的湖岸
那微风掠过我的头顶
在我那空心的手掌
是它的湖水它的沙，
还有它最隐秘的胜地
高高地居于我的思想
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