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房 床

也许你的爱是双人床
说不定谁都可以陪你流浪
你的目光锁在某个地方
你的倔强是一道墙内心不开放


也许你的心是单人房
多了一个人就会显得紧张
想看看你最初的模样
你脱下来的伪装你会怎么放

别说还有感觉
你我都知道我们只能忠于直觉
正因为欠缺所以总不懂拒绝
但又不再愿意为对方妥协

别说还有感觉
你我都知道拥抱不代表亲切
可能是害怕被拒绝不敢直接
还是我们在等下一次的机会
同样皱著眉却有不同的滋味

 

也许你的心是单人房
但你的欲望却是一张双人床
想看看你真实的模样
你收起来的忧伤你把它怎么放

别说还有感觉
你我都知道我们只能忠于直觉
正因为欠缺所以总不懂拒绝
但又不再愿意为对方妥协

别说还有感觉
你我都知道拥抱不代表亲切
可能是害怕被拒绝不敢直接
还是我们在等下一次的机会
同样皱著眉却有不同的滋味

别说还有感觉
你我都知道我们只能忠于直觉
正因为欠缺所以总不懂拒绝
但又不再愿意为对方妥协

别说还有感觉
你我都知道拥抱不代表亲切
可能是害怕被拒绝不敢直接
还是我们在等下一次的机会
同样皱著眉却有不同的滋味
同样皱著眉各有孤单的体会

 

Live the Question?

I've  been reading The Letters to a Young Poet, and being clueless in the mean time.
 
A quite special phrase "live the question" caught my eyes. Yeah, there is an "i" but not "o" in the phrase.
Again  i am proved not so bright? Or is it a philosophic question that makes anyone silly! Bet cha.
 
 

My dear Mr. Kappus: I have left a letter from you unanswered for a long time; not because I had forgotten it - on the contrary: it is the kind that one reads again when one finds it among other letters, and I recognize you in it as if you were very near. It is your letter of May second, and I am sure you remember it. As I read it now, in the great silence of these distances, I am touched by your beautiful anxiety about life, even more than I was in Paris, where everything echoes and fades away differently because of the excessive noise that makes Things tremble. Here, where I am surrounded by an enormous landscape, which the winds move across as they come from the seas, here I feel that there is no one anywhere who can answer for you those questions and feelings which, in their depths, have a life of their own; for even the most articulate people are unable to help, since what words point to is so very delicate, is almost unsayable. But even so, I think that you will not have to remain without a solution if you trust in Things that are like the ones my eyes are now resting upon. If you trust in Nature, in the small Things that hardly anyone sees and that can so suddenly become huge, immeasurable; if you have this love for what is humble and try very simply, as someone who serves, to win the confidence of what seems poor: then everything will become easier for you, more coherent and somehow more reconciling, not in your conscious mind perhaps, which stays behind, astonished, but in your innermost awareness, awakeness, and knowledge. You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you, dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. Perhaps you do carry within you the possibility of creating and forming, as an especially blessed and pure way of living; train your for that - but take whatever comes, with great trust, and as long as it comes out of your will, out of some need of your innermost self, then take it upon yourself, and don't hate anything. Sex is difficult; yes. But those tasks that have been entrusted to us are difficult; almost everything serious is difficult; and everything is serious. If you just recognize this and manage, out of yourself, out of your own talent and nature, out of your own experience and childhood and strength, to achieve a wholly individual relation to sex (one that is not influenced by convention and custom), then you will no longer have to be afraid of losing yourself and becoming unworthy of your dearest possession.

 

Youth(转)

Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.

Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of 60 more than a boy of 20. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.

Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spring back to dust.

Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing childlike appetite of what’s next and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station: so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from the Infinite, so long are you young.

When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at 20, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young at 80.