My Life is Over

[英]乔治·吉辛/George Gissing

然而，我的人生已经逝去。

生命是多么渺小！我知道哲学家们曾说过的话，我曾反复吟诵他们关于人生苦短的如歌语句——但，时至今日我才相信他们的话。这就是一切吗？一个人的生命怎可如此短暂，如此空虚？我徒然说服自己：真正意义上的生活才刚刚起步，汗水和恐惧相随的日子根本不是生活，是否让生活变得很有价值现在仍然取决于我。也许这是自我安慰，但它不能把这样一个事实变得含糊不清，那就是：机会和前途之门将不会再向我敞开。时至当前，我已“退居二线”，实实在在无异于一个退休商人，生命已经结束。我可以回顾已走完的人生历程，感叹它的渺小！我忍不住想要大笑一番，可我控制住自己，只是微微一笑。

微笑，一方面带着竭力的忍耐而不是轻视，另一方面又不可过分地自怨自怜，这样便是最好的。毕竟，我从未真正地被困在事情最糟的境遇里，我尚且可以轻松地脱身在外。生命完结了——那又怎样？它究竟是苦是乐，我现在都得不出个结论。是不是事实本身就不需要我这般患得患失呢？有什么关系呢？命运永远不会显露真面目，它召令我的降生，要我扮演那小小角色，然后一切重归沉寂。对此我是顺从，还是叛逆？我心存感激，感激自己没有像别人一样遭遇不可吞忍的冤屈，还有那肉体或心灵上惨重的创伤——唉！唉！我在他们身上所瞥见的这种种冤屈和创伤！人生大部分旅程都安宁地走过，难道还不能让我知足吗？假使我惊诧于生命的短促和空虚，这错误也是我自己亲手酿就的啊！先逝的人们对我敲响警钟：最好现在就看清并接受真理，不然，日后必将陷入惊恐，但却软弱得束手无策，只能愚蠢地呼天抢地，哀怨连连。我宁愿高兴，而不愿悔恨，我也将不再胡思乱想。

Nevertheless， my life is over.

What a little thing！ I knew how the philosophers had spoken； I repeated their musical phrases about the mortal span—yet never till now believed them. And this is all？ A man's life can be so brief and so vain？ Idly would I persuade myself that life， in the true sense， is only now beginning； that the time of sweat and fear was not life at all， and that it now only depends upon my will to lead a worthy existence. That may be a sort of consolation， but it does not obscure the truth that I shall never again see possibilities and promises opening before me. I have "retired，" and for me as truly as for the retired tradesman， life is over. I can look back upon its completed course， and what a little thing！ I am tempted to laugh； I hold myself within the limit of a smile.

And that is best， to smile not in scorn， but in all forbearance， without too much self-compassion. After all， that dreadful aspect of the thing never really took hold of me； I could put it by without much effort. Life is done—and what matter？ Whether it has been， in sum， painful or enjoyable， even now I cannot say—a fact which in itself should prevent me from taking the loss too seriously. What does it matter？ Destiny with the hidden face decreed that I should come into being， play my little part， and pass again into silence； is it mine either to approve or to rebel？ Let me be grateful that I have suffered no intolerable wrong， no terrible woe of flesh or spirit， such as others—alas！ alas！—have found in their lot. Is it not much to have accomplished so large a part of the mortal journey with so much ease？ If I find myself astonished at its brevity and small significance， why， that is my own fault； the voices of those gone before had sufficiently warned me. Better to see the truth now， and accept it， than to fall into dread surprise on some day of weakness， and foolishly to cry against fate. I will be glad rather than sorry， and think of the thing no more.