对生活的评注 2-41

A WELL-KEPT ROAD led up to the foot of the hill, and a path continued from there. On top of the hill were the ruins of a very ancient stronghold. Thousands of years ago it was a formidable place, a fortress of gigantic rocks, of proud pillared halls with mosaic floors, of marble baths and chambers. The closer one approached this citadel, the higher and thicker its walls became, and the more vigorously it must have been defended; yet it was conquered, destroyed, and built again. The outer walls were made of enormous blocks of rock placed one on top of the other without any mortar to bind them. Within the walls there was an ancient well, many feet deep, with steps leading down to it. The steps were smooth and slippery, and the sides of the well were glistening with moisture. It was all in ruins now, but the marvellous view from the top of the hill remained. Away to the left was the sparkling sea, bordering wide open plains with hills behind them. In the near distance there were two smaller hills which in those far off days had also been fortresses, but nothing comparable to this lofty citadel that looked down on these neighbouring hills and on the plains. It was a lovely morning, with the breeze from the sea stirring the bright flowers among the ruins. These flowers were very beautiful, their colours rich and deep and they grew in extraordinary places, on rocks, in the crevices of broken walls, and in the courtyards. They had grown there, wild and free, for untold centuries, and it seemed a sacrilege to tread on them, for they crowded the path; it was their world, and we were strangers, but they did not make one feel that way.

一条维护得很好的道路通向山脚下，一条小径从那里继续。山顶上，是一个非常古老的城堡的废墟。几千年前，它是一个令人生畏的地方，一个巨大的岩石堡垒，骄傲的立柱的大厅，铺着马赛克的地板，有大理石的浴室和房间。越接近这座城堡，它的墙壁就越高、越厚实，它就越有力地被保卫；然而，它被征服，被摧毁，并再次建造。外墙由巨大的岩块组成，一块叠一块，没有用任何砂浆来固定。在城墙内，有一口很多英尺深的古井，有台阶通向它。台阶光滑滑溜，井边湿漉漉的。现在，一切都成了废墟，但山顶奇妙的景色依然。左边是波光粼粼的大海，后边是山丘，与开阔的平原接壤。在近处，有两座较小的山丘，在那些遥远的时光里，它们也是城堡，但没有什么能比得上这座高耸的城堡，俯视着这些邻近的山丘和平原。那是一个美好的早晨，海边的微风，吹拂着废墟中灿烂的花朵。这些花朵很美，颜色丰富而醇厚，它们生长在非凡的地方：岩石上，断墙的缝隙中，以及庭院中。他们在那里生长，狂野而自由，长达数百年，踩在他们身上，似乎是一种亵渎，因为他们挤满了小路。这是他们的世界，我们是陌生人，他们却没有使人产生这种感觉。

The view from this hilltop was not breathtaking, like those which are seen occasionally, and which obliterate consciousness with grandeur and silence. Here it was not like that. Here there was peaceful enchantment, gentle and expansive; here you could live timelessly, without a past and a future, for you were one with this whole rapturous world. You were not a human being, a stranger from a different land, but you were those hills, those goats, and the goatherd. You were the sky and the blossoming earth; you were not apart from it, you were of it. But you were not conscious that you were of it, any more than those flowers were. You were those smiling fields, the blue sea, and the distant train with its passengers. You didn't exist, you who choose, compare, act and seek; you were with everything.

从这个山顶上看到的景色并不是激动人心的，如同那些偶尔看到的，它们用宏伟和寂寥抹去了意识。这里的情况并非如此。这里有和平的魅力，温柔而广阔；在这里，你可以没有时间的生活，没有过去和未来，因为你与整个狂欢的世界是一体的。你不是一个人类，一个来自不同地区的陌生人，你却是那些山丘，那些山羊和牧羊人。你是天空和盛开的大地；你没有脱离它，你属于它。但你没有意识到你属于它，就像那些花一样。你是那些微笑的田野，蔚蓝的大海，以及远处的火车和乘客。你不存在，那个选择、比较、行动和寻求的‘你’；你与一切同在。

Someone said that it was late and we must be going, so we went down the path on the other side of the hill, and then along the road leading to the sea.

有人说已经很晚了，我们得走了，所以我们沿着山的另一边的小径走下去，然后，沿着通往大海的道路走下去。

We were sitting under a tree, and he was telling how, as a young and middle aged man, he had worked in different parts of Europe throughout the two world wars. During the last one he had no home, often went hungry, and was nearly shot for something or other by this or that conquering army. He had spent sleepless and tortured nights in prison, for in his wanderings he had lost his passport, and none would believe his simple statement as to where he was born and to what country he belonged. He spoke several languages, had been an engineer, then in some sort of business, and was now painting. He now had a passport, he said with a smile, and a place to live.

我们坐在一棵树下，他讲述了作为一个中青年，他如何在两次世界大战期间，在欧洲的不同地区工作。在最后一次战斗中，他没有了家，经常挨饿，差点被这支或那支征服的军队射杀。他难以入睡，在监狱里度过了折磨人的夜晚，因为在流浪中他丢失了护照，没有人会相信他关于他出生在哪里和属于哪个国家的简单陈述。他会说几种语言，曾经是一名工程师，后来从事某种商业活动，现在正在绘画。他笑着说，他现在有了护照，还有一个住处。

"There are many like me, people who were destroyed and have come back to life again," he went on. "I don't regret it, but somehow I have lost the intimate contact with life at least with what one calls life. I am fed up with armies and kings, flags and politics. They have caused as much mischief and sorrow as our official religion, which has shed more blood than any other; not even the Moslem world can compete with us in violence and horror, and now we are all at it again. I used to be very cynical, but that too has passed. I live alone, for my wife and child died during the war, and any country, as long as it is warm, is good enough for me. I don't care much one way or the other, but I sell my paintings now and then, which keeps me going. At times it is rather difficult to make ends meet, but something always turns up, and as my wants are very simple I am not greatly bothered about money. I am a monk at heart, but outside the prison of a monastery. I am telling you all this, not just to ramble on about myself, but to give you a sketch of my background, for in talking things over with you I may get to understand something which has become very vital to me. Nothing else interests me, not even my painting.

“有很多像我一样的人被摧毁了，而后又找回了生活，” 他继续说道。“我不后悔，但不知何故，我已经失去了与生活的亲密接触，至少是与人们所说的生活。我受够了军队、国王、旗帜和政治。它们造成的痛苦和灾难与我们的正规宗教一样多，它流血的次数比任何其他宗教都多。即使在穆斯林世界，也无法在暴力和恐怖中与我们竞争，现在我们都再次参与其中。我曾经非常地愤世嫉俗，但这也已经过去了。我一个人住，因为我的妻子和孩子在战争中丧生，任何一个乡村，只要是温暖的，对我来说就足够了。我不太在乎这种或那种方式，但我时不时地卖掉我的画，这使我得以维持。有时维持生计很难，但总有些事会出现转机，而我的需求很简单，所以我对钱并不在意。我内心是一个僧侣，但游离在修道院的监狱之外。我告诉你们这一切，不仅仅是为了喋喋不休地谈论我自己，而是为了给你们一个关于我的背景的草图，因为在和你们谈论事情时，我可能会理解一些对我来说非常重要的事情。我没有别的兴趣，甚至连我的画都不感兴趣。

"One day I set out for those hills with my painting things, for I had seen something over there which I wanted to paint. It was fairly early in the morning when I got to the place, and there were a few clouds in the sky. From where I was I could see across the valley to the bright sea. I was enchanted to be alone, and began to paint. I must have been painting for some time, and it was coming along beautifully, without any strain or effort when I became aware that something was taking place inside my head, if I can put it that way. I was so absorbed in my painting that for a while I did not notice what was happening to me, and then suddenly I was aware of it. I could not go on with my painting, but I sat very still." After a moment's pause, he continued.

“有一天，我带着我绘图工具出发，去那些山上，因为我看到了那里有我想画的东西。当我到达这个地方时，已经是清晨了，天空中有几朵云。从我所在的位置，我可以看到整个山谷伸向明亮的大海。我着迷于自在，开始画画。我一定画了一段时间，它来得很漂亮，没有任何压力或努力，当我意识到我的头脑中发生了一些事情，如果我能这样说的话。我全神贯注于我的画中，有一段时间我没有注意到发生在我身上的事情，然后突然我意识到了它。我不能继续我的画，但我坐得很不动。” 停顿了一会儿后，他继续说道。

"Don't think me crazy, for I am not, but sitting there I was aware of an extraordinarily creative energy. It wasn't I that was creative, but something in me, something that was also in those ants and in that restless squirrel. I don't think I am explaining this very well, but surely you understand what I mean. It was not the creativeness of some Tom, Dick or Harry writing a poem, or of myself painting a silly picture; it was just creation, pure and simple, and the things produced by the mind or by the hand were on the outer fringes of this creation, with little significance. I seemed to be bathed in it; there was a sacredness about it, a benediction. If I were to put it in religious words, I would say... But I won't. Those religious words stick in my mouth, they no longer have any meaning. It was the centre of Creation, God himself.... Again these words! But I tell you, it was holy, not the man-made holiness of churches, incense and hymns, which is all immature nonsense. This was something uncontaminated, unthought of, and tears were rolling down my cheeks; I was being washed clean of all my past. The squirrel had stopped fretting about its next meal, and there was an astonishing silence - not the silence of the night when all things sleep, but a silence in which everything was awake.

“不要以为我疯了，因为我没疯，但坐在那里我意识到一种非凡的创造力。不是我有创造力，而是我里面的东西，那些蚂蚁和那只不安分的松鼠身上的东西。我不认为我很好地解释了这一点，但你肯定明白我的意思。这不是汤姆、迪克或哈利写诗的创造力，也不是我自己画一幅愚蠢的图画的创造力。它只是创造，纯粹而简单，由头脑或手产生的东西处于这种创造的外边缘，没有什么意义。我似乎沐浴在其中；它有一种神圣性，一种祝福。如果我用宗教的话来说，我会说…… 但我不会。那些宗教话语一直粘在我嘴里，它们不再有任何意义。它是创造的中心，上帝自己…… 又说了一次这些话！但我告诉你，这是神圣的，而不是教堂、香和赞美诗的人造的神圣，那些都是不成熟的废话。这是未受污染的，未经想到的，泪水从我的脸颊上滚落下来。我所有的过去被洗干净了。松鼠已经不再为下一顿饭而烦恼了，有一种惊人的寂静 —— 不是所有生物都入睡时的夜晚的寂静，而是一种一切都处于清醒状态的寂静。

"I must have sat there, motionless, for a very long time, for the sun was in the west; I was a little stiff, one leg had gone to sleep, and I could stand up only with difficulty. I am not exaggerating, sir, but time seemed to have stopped - or rather, there was no time. I had no watch, but several hours must have passed from the moment I put my brush down to the moment I got up. I was not hysterical, nor had I been unconscious, as some might conclude; on the contrary, I was fully alert, aware of everything that was happening around me. Picking up all my things and carefully putting them in my knapsack, I left, and in that extraordinary state I walked back to my house. All the noises of a small town did not in any way disturb that state, and it lasted for several hours after I got home. When I awoke the next morning, it was completely gone. I looked at my painting; it was good, but nothing outstanding.

“我一定坐在那里，一动不动，很长一段时间，因为太阳在西边。我有点僵硬，一条腿已经麻木了，我只能艰难地站起来。先生，我并没有夸大其词，但时间似乎已经停止了，或者更确切地说，不存在时间。我没有手表，但从我放下笔刷的那一刻到我站起来的时刻，一定已经过去了几个小时。我没有歇斯底里，也没有像有些人可能得出的结论那样失去了知觉。相反，我完全地警醒，意识到周围发生的一切。我捡起我所有的东西，小心翼翼地把它们放在背包里，我离开了，在那非凡的状态下，我走回了我的房子。一个小镇的所有噪音，都没有以任何方式扰乱那个状态，在我回家后，它持续了几个小时。当我第二天早上醒来时，它完全消失了。我看着我的画；它很好，却没有什么突出的地方。

"Sorry to have talked so long," he concluded, "but it has been bottled up in me, and I could not have talked to anyone else. If I did, they would call in a priest, or suggest one of those analysts. Now I am not asking for an explanation, but how does this thing come into being? What are the circumstances necessary for it to be?"

“很抱歉谈了这么久，”他总结道， “但它已经被封存在我心里了，我无法和其他人说话。如果我这样做了，他们会打电话给牧师，或者推荐其中一位分析师。现在我不是在要求一个解释，但是这个东西是如何形成的呢？需要在什么处境下存在呢？”

You are asking this question because you want to experience it again, are you not? "I suppose that is the motive behind my question, but..."

你问这个问题是因为你想再次体验它，不是吗？ “我想这就是我问题背后的动机，但是……”

Please, let us go on from there. What is important is not that it happened, but that you should not go after it. Greed breeds arrogance, and what is necessary is humility. You cannot cultivate humility; if you do, it is no longer humility but another acquisition. It is important, not that you should have another such experience, but that there should be innocence, freedom from the memory of experience, good or bad, pleasant or painful.

请让我们从那里继续。重要的不是它发生了，而是你不应该去追求它。贪婪滋生傲慢，而需要的，却是谦卑。你不能培养谦卑；如果你这样做，那它就不再是谦卑，而是另一种获取。它重要，不是你应该有另一个这样的体验，而是应该纯洁，从体验的记忆中解脱，无论它是好是坏，是愉快或痛苦。

"Good Lord, you are telling me to forget something which has become of total importance to me. You are asking the impossible. I cannot forget it, nor do I want to."

“上帝啊，你告诉我，要忘记一件对我而言已经变得非常重要的事情。你在要去不可能的事情。我不能忘记它，我也不想忘记它。”

Yes, sir, that is the difficulty. please listen with patience and insight. What have you now? A dead memory. While it was happening it was a living thing and there was no 'me' to experience that living thing, no memory clinging to what had been. Your mind was then in a state of innocency, without seeking, asking, or holding; it was free. But now you are seeking and clinging to the dead past. Oh, yes, it is dead; your remembrance has destroyed it and is creating the conflict of duality, the conflict between what has been and what you hope for. Conflict is death, and you are living with darkness. This thing does happen when the self is absent; but the memory of it, the craving for more, strengthens the self and prevents the living reality.

是的，先生，这就是困难。请耐心和有洞察力地听。你现在有什么？一个死去的记忆。当它发生时，它是一个活生生的东西，没有“我”来体验那个生物，没有记忆紧紧抓住过去的东西。那时，你的头脑处于一种天真无邪的状态，没有寻找、要求或抓握。它是自由的。但现在，你正在寻求并紧紧抓住死去的过去。哦，是的，它已经死了；你的记忆摧毁了它，并正在创造出二元性的冲突，一个已经存在的和你所希望的，两者之间的冲突。冲突就是死亡，而你生活在黑暗中。当自我缺席时，这种事确实会发生；但是对它的记忆，对‘更多’的渴望，强化了自我，并阻止了活着的真实。

"Then how am I to wipe away this exciting memory?"

“那我该如何抹去这段激动人心的记忆呢？”

Again, your very question indicates the desire to recapture that state, does it not? You want to wipe away the memory of that state in order to experience it further, so craving still remains, though you are willing to forget what has been. Your craving for that extraordinary state is similar to that of a man who is addicted to drink or to a drug. What is all-important is not the further experiencing of that reality, but that this craving should be understood and should voluntarily dissolve without resistance, without the action of will.

再一次，你的问题表明了重新夺回这种状态的欲望，不是吗？你想抹去那种状态的记忆，以便进一步体验它，所以渴望仍然在继续，尽管你愿意忘记曾经发生的事情。你对这种非凡状态的渴望类似于一个沉迷于饮酒或吸毒的人。最重要的不是进一步体验那种真实，而是应该理解这种渴望，并且应该在没有抵抗，没有意向的情况下，自愿地抹去。