这不是一首情诗，而是博尔赫斯分享的一点人生感悟，他说无常、危险和失败在所难免，我们需要敬畏历史、学会与孤独和平共处并葆有一份纯真。记得初高中写作文最愁的是没有素材，到今天，在北京工作三年多的我觉得素材多得简直快要溢出来。那些苦和乐，都不知道放在哪好。索性就读一读诗作为输出吧，如果能看一看海就最好不过了。（配图摄于江之岛；BGM：solitude。）

128'

What can I hold you with?——博尔赫斯 Jorge Luis Borges (1934)


I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged suburbs.

I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon.

我给你贫瘠的街道，绝望的落日，荒郊的月亮。
我给你一个长久凝望着孤独的月亮的人的愁苦。

I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have honoured in marble:

my father's father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide of a cow;

my mother's grandfather--just twentyfour-- heading a charge of three hundred men in Peru, now ghosts on vanished horses.

我给你我的祖先，我死去的人，那些活着的人用铜像纪念的魂灵：
我的父亲的父亲死于布宜诺斯艾利斯的前线，两颗子弹洞穿他的胸膛，留着胡子，死去，被他的部下用牛皮包裹；
我母亲的祖父——才刚刚24岁，在秘鲁率领三百人冲锋——现如今都是骑着马消失的亡灵。

I offer you whatever insight my books may hold, whatever manliness or humour my life.

I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.

I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved, somehow --the central heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams, and is untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.

我给你我书中包含的所有洞察力，
我生命中的所有男子气概和幽默。
我给你我仅存的核心，——不可由语言言说，不可和梦想交换，不可被时间、欢乐与困厄触碰的核心。

I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born.

I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about yourself, authentic and surprising news of yourself.

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart;

I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.


我给你在你出生之前、日落时见到的一朵黄玫瑰的记忆。
我给你关于你的诠释，你的理论以及关于你真实而奇异的信息。
我给你我的孤独，我的黑暗，我饥饿的心；我想要用无常、用危险、用失败收买你。