The End of Life 生活的目的 四

For we are now in the autumn of our national life. There comes a time in our lives, as nations and as individuals, when we are pervaded by the spirit of early autumn, in which green is mixed with gold and sadness is mixed with joy, and hope is mixed with reminiscence. There comes a time in our lives when the innocence of spring is a memory and the exuberance of summer a song whose echoes faintly remain in the air, when as we look out on life, the problem is not how to grow but how to live truly, not how to strive and labor but how to enjoy the precious moments we have, not how to squander our energy but how to conserve it in preparation for the coming winter. A sense of having arrived somewhere, of having settled and having found out what we want. A sense of having achieved something also, precious little compared with its past exuberance, but still something, like an autumn forest shorn of its summer glory but retaining such of it as will endure.
我们现在身处民族生活的秋天。在我们生命中的某一时刻，无论是民族还是个人，都为新秋精神所渗透：绿色错落着金色、悲伤交织着欢乐、希望混杂着怀旧。在这一时刻，春天的单纯已成记忆，夏日的繁茂已为空气中微弱回荡着的歌吟。我们看待人生，不是在筹谋怎样发展，而是去考虑如何真正地活着；不是怎样奋发劳作，而是如何珍惜当下的宝贵时光尽情享乐；不是如何挥霍自己的精力，而是养精蓄锐应对冬天的到来。我们感到自己已经到达某个地方，安顿了下来，并找到了自己想要的东西。我们还感到已经获得了某种东西，这与过去的荣华相比尽管微不足道，却像是褪去了夏日繁茂的秋林一样，仍然有些余晖在继续放光。

I like spring, but it is too young. I like summer, but it is too proud. So I like best of all autumn, because its leaves are a little yellow, its tone mellower, its colors richer, and it is tinged a little with sorrow and a premonition of death. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor of the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and is content. From a knowledge of those limitations and its richness of experience emerges a symphony of colors, richer than all, its green speaking of life and strength, its orange speaking of golden content, and its purple of resignation and death. And the moon shines over it, and its brow seems white with reflection, but when the setting sun touches it with an evening glow, it can still laugh cheerily. An early mountain breeze brushes by and sends its shivering leaves dancing gaily to the ground, and you do not know whether the song of the falling leaves is the song of laughter or of parting tears. For it is the Song of the Spirit of Early Autumn, the spirit of calm and wisdom and maturity, which smiles at sorrow itself and praises the exhilarating, keen, cool air—the Spirit of Autumn so well expressed by Hsin Ch‘ichi:
我喜欢春天，可它过于稚嫩；我喜欢夏天，可它过于骄矜。因而我最喜欢秋天，喜欢它泛黄的树叶、成熟的格调和斑斓的色彩。它带着些许感伤，也带着死亡的预兆。秋天的金碧辉煌所展示的不是春天的单纯，也不是夏天的伟力，而是接近高迈之年的老成和睿智——明白人生有限因而知足，这种“生也有涯”的感知与丰富的人生经验变幻出和谐的秋色：绿色代表生命和力量，橘黄代表金玉的内容，紫色代表屈从与死亡。在月光照耀下，秋天陷入沉思，露出苍白的神情；而当夕阳的余晖抚摸她面容的时候，她仍然能够爽悦地欢笑。山间的晨风拂过，枝杈间片片颤动着的秋叶舞动着飘向大地，你真不知道这落叶的歌吟是欣喜的欢唱还是离别的泪歌，因为它是新秋精神的歌吟：镇定、智慧、成熟。这种歌吟用微笑面对悲伤，赞颂那种令人振奋、敏锐而冷静的神情——这种秋的精神在辛弃疾的笔下表现得最为恰切：

“In my young days,

I had tasted only gladness,

But loved to mount the top floor,

But loved to mount the top floor,

To write a song pretending sadness.

“And now I've tasted

Sorrow's flavors, bitter and sour,

And can't find a word,

And can't find a word,

But merely say, ‘What a golden autumn hour! '”

少年不识愁滋味，爱上层楼。爱上层楼，为赋新词强说愁。
而今识尽愁滋味，欲说还休。欲说还休，却道天凉好个秋。