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书写你的生命 Write Your Own Life

书写你的生命 Write Your Own Life


suppose someone gave you a pen — a sealed, solid-colored pen.
you couldn't see how much ink it had.
it might run dry after the first few tentative words or last just long enough to create a masterpiece (or several) that would last forever and make a difference in the scheme of things.
you don't know before you begin.
under the rules of the game, you really never know.
you have to take a chance!
actually, no rule of the game states you must do anything. instead of picking up and using the pen, you could leave it on a shelf or in a drawer where it will dry up, unused.
but if you do decide to use it, what would you do with it? how would you play the game?
would you plan and plan before you ever wrote a word?
would your plans be so extensive that you never even got to the writing?
or would you take the pen in hand, plunge right in and just do it, struggling to keep up with the twists and turns of the torrents of words that take you where they take you?
would you write cautiously and carefully, as if the pen might run dry the next moment, or would you pretend or believe (or pretend to believe) that the pen will write forever and proceed accordingly?
and of what would you write: of love? hate? fun? misery? life? death? nothing? everything?
would you write to please just yourself? or others? or yourself by writing for others?
would your strokes be tremblingly timid or brilliantly bold? fancy with a flourish or plain?
would you even write? once you have the pen, no rule says you have to write. would you sketch? scribble? doodle or draw?
would you stay in or on the lines, or see no lines at all, even if they were there? or are they? there's a lot to think about here, isn't there?
now, suppose someone gave you a life...


假设有人给了你一枝笔,一枝密封的、纯色的水笔,
里面有多少墨水你看不到。
很可能刚刚试写几字便用干耗尽;也可能足以完成一部或几部杰作,永存于世,使世事为之大变。
而这一切你在动笔之前却是一无所知。
根据游戏的规则,你确实永远也不会知道,
只能冒一下险。
而事实上,也没有规则说你就一定要做些什么。你大可以把笔搁在架子上、放在抽屉里,弃置不用,任墨水蒸发干净。
然而,如果你真的决定使用,你会做什么?怎么来做这个游戏?
你会左计划、右计划,然后才慢慢下笔吗?
计划会不会太泛太多,根本就达不到写作这一步?
会不会提笔在手,迫不及待地投入其中,任由手中的笔、笔下的字带着你在词海中上下翻腾、左突右冲?
会不会下笔谨小慎微,似乎墨水随时都将干涸?会不会假装或相信、或假装相信笔中墨水永不会枯竭,任你挥洒?
你会写些什么?爱情?仇恨?乐趣?痛苦?生命?死亡?虚无空空抑或世事万种?
是会用来自娱?还是取悦他人?还是为人写作而愉悦自身?
你的一笔一划会颤抖怯懦还是亮丽大胆?花里胡哨还是朴实无华?
你确实会去写吗?你一旦有了这枝笔,却也没有规则说你一定就要去写。你会粗粗写来?潦潦草草?信手涂鸦?还是认真描画?
你会写在线里还是写在线上,或者对纸上的线格根本就视而不见?真的有什么线格吗?此时此刻,有很多东西值得思考,不是吗?
那么,假设有人给了你一次生命……
点击查看更多双语阅读
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假设有人给了你一枝笔,一枝密封的、纯色的水笔,
里面有多少墨水你看不到。
很可能刚刚试写几字便用干耗尽;也可能足以完成一部或几部杰作,永存于世,使世事为之大变。
而这一切你在动笔之前却是一无所知。
根据游戏的规则,你确实永远也不会知道,
只能冒一下险。
而事实上,也没有规则说你就一定要做些什么。你大可以把笔搁在架子上、放在抽屉里,弃置不用,任墨水蒸发干净。
然而,如果你真的决定使用,你会做什么?怎么来做这个游戏?
你会左计划、右计划,然后才慢慢下笔吗?
计划会不会太泛太多,根本就达不到写作这一步?
会不会提笔在手,迫不及待地投入其中,任由手中的笔、笔下的字带着你在词海中上下翻腾、左突右冲?
会不会下笔谨小慎微,似乎墨水随时都将干涸?会不会假装或相信、或假装相信笔中墨水永不会枯竭,任你挥洒?
你会写些什么?爱情?仇恨?乐趣?痛苦?生命?死亡?虚无空空抑或世事万种?
是会用来自娱?还是取悦他人?还是为人写作而愉悦自身?
你的一笔一划会颤抖怯懦还是亮丽大胆?花里胡哨还是朴实无华?
你确实会去写吗?你一旦有了这枝笔,却也没有规则说你一定就要去写。你会粗粗写来?潦潦草草?信手涂鸦?还是认真描画?
你会写在线里还是写在线上,或者对纸上的线格根本就视而不见?真的有什么线格吗?此时此刻,有很多东西值得思考,不是吗?
那么,假设有人给了你一次生命……
点击查看更多双语阅读

suppose someone gave you a pen — a sealed, solid-colored pen.
you couldn't see how much ink it had.
it might run dry after the first few tentative words or last just long enough to create a masterpiece (or several) that would last forever and make a difference in the scheme of things.
you don't know before you begin.
under the rules of the game, you really never know.
you have to take a chance!
actually, no rule of the game states you must do anything. instead of picking up and using the pen, you could leave it on a shelf or in a drawer where it will dry up, unused.
but if you do decide to use it, what would you do with it? how would you play the game?
would you plan and plan before you ever wrote a word?
would your plans be so extensive that you never even got to the writing?
or would you take the pen in hand, plunge right in and just do it, struggling to keep up with the twists and turns of the torrents of words that take you where they take you?
would you write cautiously and carefully, as if the pen might run dry the next moment, or would you pretend or believe (or pretend to believe) that the pen will write forever and proceed accordingly?
and of what would you write: of love? hate? fun? misery? life? death? nothing? everything?
would you write to please just yourself? or others? or yourself by writing for others?
would your strokes be tremblingly timid or brilliantly bold? fancy with a flourish or plain?
would you even write? once you have the pen, no rule says you have to write. would you sketch? scribble? doodle or draw?
would you stay in or on the lines, or see no lines at all, even if they were there? or are they? there's a lot to think about here, isn't there?
now, suppose someone gave you a life...


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