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奔跑的理由October 03 累了累了
秋天又到 让人自省的季节 如此清爽 如此自在
搬了家 今年也没有看到燕子 不知道他们走没走 真想回去看看
生活改变得太多 好像火车不停提速 朋友们来来往往 忙字成为主题
忙啊 忙着去干什么 忙着生活 还是 忙着赶场
无为无不为 其中滋味 又有领教
最近有点累 没有原因 反正就是累了 想休息一下
找一个安静的地方 闭上眼 静静地发呆 什么也不做 什么也不想
零玖中秋
June 02 橘颂橘颂
屈原《九章》
后皇嘉树，橘徕服兮。 受命不迁，生南国兮。 深固难徙，更壹志兮。 绿叶素荣，纷其可喜兮。 曾枝剡棘，圆果抟兮。 青黄杂糅，文章烂兮。 精色内白，类可任兮。 纷緼宜修，姱而不丑兮。 嗟尔幼志，有以异兮。 独立不迁，岂不可喜兮? 深固难徙，廓其无求兮。 苏世独立，横而不流兮。 闭心自慎，不终失过兮。 秉德无私，参天地兮。 愿岁并谢，与长友兮。 淑离不淫，梗其有理兮。 年岁虽少，可师长兮。 行比伯夷，置以为像兮。
橘啊，你这天地间的佳树，生下来就适应当地的水土。 你的品质坚贞不变，生长在江南的国度啊。 根深蒂固难以迁移，那是由于你专一的意志啊。 绿叶衬着白花，繁茂得让人欢喜啊。 枝儿层层，刺儿锋利，圆满的果实啊。 青中闪黄，黄里带青，色彩多么绚丽啊。 外观精美内心洁净，类似有道德的君子啊。 长得繁茂又美观，婀娜多姿毫无瑕疵啊。 啊，你幼年的志向，就与众不同啊。 独立特行永不改变，怎不使人敬重啊。 坚定不移的品质，你心胸开阔无所私求啊。 你远离世俗独来独往，敢于横渡而不随波逐流啊。 小心谨慎从不轻率，自始至终不犯过失啊。 遵守道德毫无私心，真可与天地相比啊。 愿在万物凋零的季节，我与你结成知己啊。 内善外美而不放荡，多么正直而富有文理啊， 你的年纪虽然不大，却可作人们的良师啊。 品行好比古代的伯夷，种在这里作我为人的榜样啊。
——三姑七年祭
May 25 I believe I am happyI believe I am happy Written by Oscar Hammerstein ||
I have an unusual statement to make. I am a man who believes he is happy. What makes it unusual is that a man who is happy seldom tells anyone. The unhappy man is more commucative. He is eager to recite what is wrong with the world and he seems to have a talent for gathering a large audience. It is a modern tragedy that despair has so many spokesmen, and hope so few. I believe, therefore, that it is important for a man to announce that he is happy, even though such an announcement is less dramatic and less entertaining than the cries of his pessimistic opposite. Why do I believe I am happy? Death has deprived me of many whom I loved, dismal failure has followed many of my most earnest efforts, people have disappointed me, I've disappointed them, I've disappointed myself. From all this evidence, could I not build up a strong case to prove why I am not happy at all? I could, but it would be a false picture; as false as if I were to describe a tree only as it looks in winter. I would be leaving out a list of people I love who have not died. I would be leaving out an acknowledgement of the many successes that have sprouted among my many failure. I would be leaving out the blessing of good health, the joy of walking in the sunshine. All these things are as much a part of my world as the darker worries that shade them. The conflict of good and bad merges in thick entanglement. You cannot isolate virtue and beauty and success and laughter and keep them all from contact with wickedness and ugliness and failure and weeping. The man who strives for such isolated joy is riding for a fall; he will wind up in isolated gloom. I don't believe anyone can enjoy living in this world unless he can accept its imperfection. He must know and admit that he is imperfect, that all other mortals are imperfect, that it is childish to allow these imperfections to destroy all his hope and all his desire to live. Nature is older than man and she is still far from perfect. Her summers do not always start promptly on June 21st, her bugs and beetles and other insects often go beyond her obvious intentions, devouring the leaves and buds with which she has adorned her countryside. After the land has remained too dry for too long, she sends relieving rains, but frequently they come in torrents so violent that they do more harm than good. Over the years, however, nature keeps going on in her imperfect way and the result, in spite of her many mistakes, is continuing miracle. It will be folly for an individual to seek to do better; to do better than go on in his own imperfect way, making his mistakes, riding out the rough and bewildering, exciting and beautiful storm of life until the day he dies.
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