You've been in love, of course! If not you've got it to come. Love is like the measles; we all have to go through it. Also like the measles, we take it only once. One never need be afraid of catching it a second time. The man who has had it can go into the most dangerous places and play the most foolhardy tricks with perfect safety. He can picnic in shady woods, ramble through leafy aisles, and linger on mossy seats to watch the sunset. He fears a quiet country-house no more than he would his own club. He can join a family party to go down the Rhine. He can, to see the last of a friend, venture into the very jaws of the marriage ceremony itself. He can keep his head through the whirl of a ravishing waltz, and rest afterward in a dark conservatory, catching nothing more lasting than a cold. He can brave a moonlight walk adown sweet-scented lanes or a twilight pull among the somber rushes. He can get over a stile without danger, scramble through a tangled hedge without being caught, come down a slippery path without falling. He can look into sunny eyes and not be dazzled. He listens to the Siren voices, yet sails on with unveered helm. He clasps white hands in his, but no electric "Lulu" -like force holds him bound in their dainty pressure.

你肯定陷入过爱河！如果现在还没有，有朝一日也会。恋爱就像患麻疹，我们每个人都会经历。也正如麻疹一样，一个人一生中只会遭遇一次。我们永远不必担心它会再次来袭。已经涉足过爱河的人可以到最危险的地方耍弄最愚勇的把戏而平安无事。他可以在浓阴蔽日的树林中野餐，在枝叶繁茂的小道中穿行，在长满青苔的座位上消磨时光，看夕阳西沉。寂静无声的乡间小屋对他来说就像自己的俱乐部，毫无可惧。他可以为了沿莱茵河旅行而参加一个家庭聚会，也可以为了再见朋友婚前最后一眼，在关键时刻闯入婚礼现场。可以在华尔兹舞那令人心醉神迷的旋转中保持镇定，然后在昏暗的暖房中稍作歇息，最后也不过得点小感冒而已。他敢于在花香四溢的小道上月下漫步，也能忍受黎明时分跋涉在忧郁的人流之中。他可以翻越栅栏而安然无恙，翻过乱蓬蓬的树篱而不被钩住，冲过湿滑的小路而步伐稳健。他可以直视璀璨的双眸而不为之所迷，可以听到塞壬的歌声而仍保持正确的航向。他即使手中紧握如玉柔荑，但在其娇小的力道下，没有任何“带电露露”般的力量能让其难以释手。

No, we never sicken with love twice. Cupid spends no second arrow on the same heart. Love's handmaids are our life-long friends. Respect, and admiration, and affection, our doors may always be left open for, but their great celestial master, in his royal progress, pays but one visit and departs. We like, we cherish, we are very, very fond of—but we never love again. A man's heart is a fi rework that once in its time f lashes heavenward. Meteor-like, it blazes for a moment and lights with its glory the whole world beneath. Then the night of our sordid commonplace life closes in around it, and the burned-out case, falling back to earth, lies useless and uncared for, slowly smoldering into ashes. Once, breaking loose from our prison bonds, we dare, as mighty old Prometheus dared, to scale the Olympian mount and snatch from Phoebus' chariot the fire of the gods. Happy those who, hastening down again ere it dies out, can kindle their earthly altars at its flame. Love is too pure a light to burn long among the noisome gases that we breathe, but before it is choked out we may use it as a torch to ignite the cozy fire of affection.

是的，爱情这种病我们从不会患两次。丘比特从不向同一颗心射出第二只箭。爱情的侍女是我们终生为伴的朋友。对于尊敬、钦佩、爱慕这些情感，我们的心门或许还会为之而开启，但她们伟大神圣的主人，在其盛大的巡行途中只会造访我们一次，然后就此诀别，再不回头。我们喜欢，我们珍视，我们很钟意很钟意——但是我们不会再爱了。一个人的心，就像烟花一样，一生中只会朝向天空绽放一次。就像流星燃烧着划过天际，绚烂的光芒可以照亮整个世界，但转瞬即灭。之后，它就被我们暗淡、平凡生活的黑夜所湮没，而燃烧过后的躯壳，则又落回尘世，躺在那里不再有用，也无人问津，最后渐渐化为灰烬。曾经，我们冲破禁锢我们的牢笼，就像强大有力的老普罗米修斯一样，敢于攀上奥林匹亚山，从福玻斯的战车上盗取天火。那些在天火熄灭前匆忙回头下山，能够用它的火焰点燃他们人间祭坛的人是幸福的。爱情之焰太过圣洁，在我们呼吸的浑浊空气中无法持久燃烧，然而在它熄灭之前，我们可以将它用作火炬来点燃温馨的情谊之火。

And, after all, that warming glow is more suited to our cold little back parlor of a world than is the burning spirit love. Love should be the vestal fire of some mighty temple—some vast dim fane whose organ music is the rolling of the spheres. Affection will burn cheerily when the white flame of love is flickered out. Affection is a fire that can be fed from day to day and be piled up ever higher as the wintry years draw nigh. Old men and women can sit by it with their thin hands clasped, the little children can nestle down in front, the friend and neighbor has his welcome corner by its side, and even shaggy Fido and sleek Titty can toast their noses at the bars.

毕竟，比起热烈燃烧的精神之爱，那温暖的光热更适合我们阴冷窄小的人世后厅。爱情应该是在某个宏大的庙堂里供奉的贞洁之火——在那儿，某个恢宏阴暗的神殿中，管风琴奏出的音乐绕梁不绝。当爱情洁白的火焰摇摇曳曳，渐渐熄灭时，情谊之火却会快活地燃烧。只要日复一日地添加燃料，随着寒冷岁月的临近，它就会越燃越旺。老头老太太可以坐在火旁紧握彼此枯槁的双手，小孩子可以偎依在火前，朋友和邻居也能在火旁找到一个舒适的角落，就连毛发蓬松的小狗和皮毛光滑的小猫也可以在火炉的围栏前烘烘鼻子。

Let us heap the coals of kindness upon that f ire. Throw on your pleasant words, your gentle pressures of the hand, your thoughtful and unselfish deeds. Fan it with good-humor, patience, and forbearance. You can let the wind blow and the rain fall unheeded then, for your hearth will be warm and bright, and the faces round it will make sunshine in spite of the clouds without.

让我们在火焰上堆上善意之炭。投入你动人的话语、你手掌温柔的摩挲、你体贴无私的行动作柴，用和善、忍耐和宽容作扇，将火煽得更旺。这样，即使风吹雨淋也无须畏惧，因为你的壁炉会始终温暖明亮，围绕在它周围的亲切面孔会驱散密蔽的乌云，带来阳光。

I am afraid, dear Edwin and Angelina , you expect too much from love. You think there is enough of your little hearts to feed this fierce, devouring passion for all your long lives. Ah, young folk! Don't rely too much upon that unsteady flicker. It will dwindle and dwindle as the months roll on, and there is no replenishing the fuel. You will watch it die out in anger and disappointment. To each it will seem that it is the other who is growing colder. Edwin sees with bitterness that Angelina no longer runs to the gate to meet him, all smiles and blushes; and when he has a cough now she doesn't begin to cry and, putting her arms round his neck, say that she cannot live without him. The most she will probably do is to suggest a lozenge, and even that in a tone implying that it is the noise more than anything else she is anxious to get rid of.

亲爱的埃德温和安杰利娜，你们对于爱情的期望恐怕太高了。你们认为，在你们漫长的一生中，你们小小的心脏可以为这极度强烈、吞噬一切的激情提供足够的能量。年轻人啊，不要对这摇曳不定的火苗过于依赖！随着岁月的流逝，它会越燃越弱，也没有谁为它补充燃料。你会在愤怒和失望中眼睁睁地看着它熄灭。爱情中的任何一方，都会觉得是对方在渐渐变得冷淡。埃德温酸楚地意识到安杰利娜再也不会带着满脸的绯红和笑意，迫不及待地跑到门口迎接他。如今，当他咳嗽时，她不再一边抽泣一边抱紧他的脖颈，诉说她的生活里不能没有他。现在的她，最可能做的就是劝他吃块润喉糖，即便那样，语气中也透露出对他的咳嗽声比对什么都感到厌烦。

Poor little Angelina, too, sheds silent tears, for Edwin has given up carrying her old handkerchief in the inside pocket of his waistcoat.

可怜的小安杰利娜也在默默流泪，因为埃德温已经不再把她送的那块旧手帕放在背心的贴身口袋里了。

Both are astonished at the falling off in the other one, but neither sees their own change. If they did they would not suffer as they do. They would look for the cause in the right quarter—in the littleness of poor human nature—join hands over their common failing, and start building their house anew on a more earthly and enduring foundation. But we are so blind to our own shortcomings, so wide awake to those of others. Everything that happens to us is always the other person's fault. Angelina would have gone on loving Edwin forever and ever and ever if only Edwin had not grown so strange and different. Edwin would have adored Angelina through eternity if Angelina had only remained the same as when he first adored her.

两人都在为对方的日渐冷淡而震惊不已，但是谁也看不到自己的变化。如果看到了自己的变化，他们也就不会感到如此悲伤了。相反，他们会从正确的角度寻找原因——看到人可怜本性中的狭隘——然后携手面对他们共同的过失，在更加现实和牢固的地基上重建他们爱的小屋。然而，我们对自己的缺点总是熟视无睹，对别人的问题却明察秋毫。发生在我们身上的一切都总是对方的过错。安杰利娜本来会永远爱埃德温，可都怪埃德温变得如此冷淡和陌生。埃德温对安杰利娜的爱本会永无尽期，至死不渝，可谁让安杰利娜早已不再是他刚刚爱上她时的样子。

It is a cheerless hour for you both when the lamp of love has gone out and the f ire of affection is not yet lit, and you have to grope about in the cold, raw dawn of life to kindle it. God grant it catches light before the day is too far spent. Many sit shivering by the dead coals till night come.

当爱情油尽灯枯而情谊之火尚未点燃之时，两个人的生活会陷入一片暗淡，只能在人生阴冷潮湿、寒气逼人的黎明中摸索着将它点燃。但愿你们还来得及抓住光明。这世上有许许多多的人，坐在冰冷的炭堆旁瑟瑟发抖，直到黑夜来临也无法将它点燃。

But, there, of what use is it to preach? Who that feels the rush of young love through his veins can think it will ever f low feeble and slow! To the boy of twenty it seems impossible that he will not love as wildly at sixty as he does then. He cannot call to mind any middle-aged or elderly gentleman of his acquaintance who is known to exhibit symptoms of frantic attachment, but that does not interfere in his belief in himself. His love will never fall, whoever else's may. Nobody ever loved as he loves, and so, of course, the rest of the world's experience can be no guide in his case. Alas! Alas! Ere thirty he has joined the ranks of the sneerers. It is not his fault. Our passions, both the good and bad, cease with our blushes. We do not hate, nor grieve, nor joy, nor despair in our thirties like we did in our teens. Disappointment does not suggest suicide, and we quaff success without intoxication.

然而，这样的说教又有何用？感觉到爱在血管中奔腾的年轻人，又怎能想到有一天它会流势渐缓，气若游丝！二十岁的小伙子认为这绝不可能，他们觉得自己即使到了六十岁，仍然会爱得像当年一样疯狂。虽然想不起身边有哪位中年人或是长辈表现出疯狂的激情，但他对自己却信心满满，毫不因此而动摇。不管别人可能会怎么样，反正他的爱情永远不会冷却。没有人像他那样爱过，因此别人的经验对他也就毫无指导意义。唉！奈何！不到而立之年，他也加入了对爱情冷眼旁观的队伍。这不是他的错。我们的激情，不管是有益的，还是有害的，都随着我们脸上羞愧的红晕一起消失了。到了三十几岁的时候，我们绝不会像十几岁的少年一样，咬牙切齿地憎恨，伤心欲绝地悲痛，欢天喜地地快乐，或是万念俱灰地绝望。伤心失望的时候，我们不会想要一死以求解脱；春风得意的时候，我们也不会狂喝滥饮，大醉酩酊。

We take all things in a minor key as we grow older. There are few majestic passages in the later acts of life's opera. Ambition takes a less ambitious aim. Honor becomes more reasonable and conveniently adapts itself to circumstances. And love—love dies. "Irreverence for the dreams of youth" soon creeps like a killing frost upon our hearts. The tender shoots and the expanding flowers are nipped and withered, and of a vine that yearned to stretch its tendrils round the world there is left but a sapless stump.

年龄越大，我们越懂得低调处事。人生这部戏越到后面，波澜壮阔的情节越少。雄心壮志不再那么野心勃勃。尊严变得更切合实际，并且总可以识时务地自我调节。至于爱情——爱情已死。“少年梦想轻狂不足惜”之类的想法像一层致命的寒霜，很快就悄无声息地罩上我们心头。柔弱的嫩芽和绽放的花朵已被掐断，枯萎败落，曾想将自己的卷须伸展到全世界的藤蔓，如今只剩下干瘪的残枝委地。

My fair friends will deem all this rank heresy, I know. So far from a man's not loving after he has passed boyhood, it is not till there is a good deal of gray in his hair that they think his protestations at all worthy of attention. Young ladies take their notions of our sex from the novels written by their own, and compared with the monstrosities that masquerade for men in the pages of that nightmare literature, Pythagoras' plucked bird and Frankenstein's demon were fair average specimens of humanity.

我知道，那些年轻漂亮的朋友必定把我这种以年龄来归类的说法当作异端邪说。如果一个男子已经成年，却从未有过爱情生活，那么在他两鬓染霜之前，他的任何辩驳都是毫无价值的。年轻的女孩是从小说中形成对男性的认识的，而这些小说却都是女性们自己写的。在这种噩梦一般的文学作品中，人的形象被严重扭曲。相比之下，毕达哥拉斯那被拔掉羽毛的鸟和弗兰肯斯坦的怪物简直是标准的人类范本。

In these so-called books, the chief lover, or Greek god, as he is admiringly referred to—by the way, they do not say which "Greek god" it is that the gentleman bears such a striking likeness to; it might be hump-backed Vulcan , or double-faced Janus , or even driveling Silenus , the god of abstruse mysteries. He resembles the whole family of them, however, in being a blackguard, and perhaps this is what is meant. To even the little manliness his classical prototypes possessed, though, he ca n lay no claim whatever, being a listless effeminate noodle, on the shady side of forty. But oh! The depth and strength of this elderly party's emotion for some bread-and-butter school-girl! Hide your heads, ye young Romeos and Leanders ! This blase old beau loves with an hysterical fervor that requires four adjectives to every noun to properly describe.

在这种居然也能称其为书的小说中，男主人公仿佛就是希腊神祇，起码大家是这么充满钦慕地看待他的——顺便说一下，到底和他如此相似的是希腊神话里的哪位神祇，书里却只字未提；可能是驼背的武尔坎，或是双面神雅努斯，甚至可能是胡说八道的奥秘之神西勒诺斯。在他的身上可以找到所有希腊神祇的特点，可惜全是无赖的特点，这可能就是作者的本来意图。即使是他的那些神话原型们好歹拥有的那么一点点男子气概，他这个早已年过不惑、无精打采、柔弱娇气的傻瓜也半点全无。但是，哦！书中这些上了年纪的家伙们对一个乳臭未干的女学生所付出的感情是多么深厚，多么强烈啊！年轻的罗密欧和勒安得耳们，你们还是甘拜下风吧！虽然已经腻烦了享乐，但这些老花花公子们狂热起来，还是要在每个名词前面加四个形容词才足以准确描述。

It is well, dear ladies, for us old sinners that you study only books. Did you read mankind, you would know that the lad's shy stammering tells a truer tale than our bold eloquence. A boy's love comes from a full heart; a man's is more often the result of a full stomach. Indeed, a man's sluggish current may not be called love, compared with the rushing fountain that wells up when a boy's heart is struck with the heavenly rod. If you would taste love, drink of the pure stream that youth pours out at your feet. Do not wait till it has become a muddy river before you stoop to catch its waves.

亲爱的女士们，对于我们这些老坏蛋来说，你们只研究书本再好不过。如果你们肯研究研究真正的男性，你们就会知道，比起我们厚颜无耻的高谈阔论，男孩子害羞时结巴着说的话更有可信度。年轻男孩的表白来自一颗充满感情的心，成年男子的表白却大多来自一个充满食物的胃。的确，比起年轻男孩那被圣棒敲击心灵而涌出的汩汩清泉，成年男子那缓缓的水流或许称不上爱。如果你想品尝爱情的甘美，就请畅饮年轻男孩倾注在你脚下的那股清泉吧。不要等到它变成浑浊的河流，再俯身掬取那不再纯净的浪花。

Or is it that you like its bitter flavor—that the clear, limpid water is insipid to your palate and that the pollution of its after-course gives it a relish to your lips? Must we believe those who tell us that a hand foul with the filth of a shameful life is the only one a young girl cares to be caressed by?

或者你就是喜欢它苦涩的滋味——纯净清澈的水对你的味蕾来说毫无刺激，在生活的阅历中被污染过的水流却能使你口舌生津？有人说，年轻的女孩子只喜欢一种手的抚摸，那就是被下流的生活玷污了的手。难道我们真的要相信这些人的话？

That is the teaching that is bawled out day by day from between those yellow covers. Do they ever pause to think, I wonder, those devil's ladyhelps, what mischief they are doing crawling about God's garden, and telling childish Eves and silly Adams that sin is sweet and that decency is ridiculous and vulgar? How many an innocent girl do they not degrade into an evil-minded woman? To how many a weak lad do they not point out the dirty by-path as the shortest cut to a maiden's heart? It is not as if they wrote of life as it really is. Speak truth, and right will take care of itself. But their pictures are coarse daubs painted from the sickly fancies of their own diseased imagination.

这就是在那些泛黄的书皮之间日复一日被高声宣扬的教义。我很好奇，那些恶魔的女帮凶们，有没有停下笔想一想，她们告诉幼稚的夏娃和愚蠢的亚当：罪恶是甜蜜的，而庄重才是可笑而庸俗的。这样的是非颠倒会为上帝的花园带来怎样的危害？多少天真纯洁的少女都被她们教唆成了心肠恶毒的女人？多少意志薄弱的少年，都听信了她们的说法，把绕行那条肮脏的旁道作为通往少女内心的捷径？她们笔下的生活，并不是真实的生活。只要讲真话，正义就会不辨自明。可她们只用自己粗陋的笔触胡乱涂抹，描绘自己病态想象中畸形的世间百态。

We want to think of women not—as their own sex would show them— as Lorleis luring us to destruction, but as good angels beckoning us upward. They have more power for good or evil than they dream of. It is just at the very age when a man's character is forming that he tumbles into love, and then the lass he loves has the making or marring of him. Unconsciously he molds himself to what she would have him, good or bad. I am sorry to have to be ungallant enough to say that I do not think they always use their influence for the best. Too often the female world is bounded hard and fast within the limits of the commonplace. Their ideal hero is a prince of littleness, and to become that many a powerful mind, enchanted by love, is "lost to life and use and name and fame."

我们不愿把女性想象成—像她们自己性别的作者喜欢展现的那样—诱人走向毁灭的罗蕾莱，而愿意把她们当作引导我们向上的善良天使。女性拥有比她们想象中大得多的力量去引人向善，或助人从恶。男子坠入情网的年纪正好是其性格形成的年纪，而他所钟情的少女则会造就他，或者毁灭他。无论好坏，他都会不由自主地按照她的希望来塑造自己的人格。在这里，我要毫不客气地说一句，女孩儿们并不总是影响事物向最好的方向发展。太多时候，女性世界被牢牢局限在庸俗的现实生活中。她们心目中的英雄是心胸狭窄的王子。为了变成这样的王子，多少为爱所迷的伟大心灵，都“输给了生活琐事和名缰利锁”。

And yet, women, you could make us so much better if you only would. It rests with you, more than with all the preachers, to roll this world a little nearer heaven. Chivalry is not dead: it only sleeps for want of work to do. It is you who must wake it to noble deeds. You must be worthy of knightly worship.

可是，女人们啊，只要你们愿意，你们就可以让我们变得更优秀。比起所有的传教士来，你们有更大的责任，将尘世与天堂之间的距离拉近一些。骑士精神并未死去，只是因为无所事事而陷入了睡眠。你们必须唤醒它，让它投入高尚的事业，你们必须无愧于骑士们忠贞的崇拜。

You must be higher than ourselves. It was for Una that the Red Cross Knight did war. For no painted, mincing court dame could the dragon have been slain. Oh, ladies fair, be fair in mind and soul as well as face, so that brave knights may win glory in your service! Oh, woman, throw off your disguising cloaks of selfishness, effrontery, and affectation! Stand forth once more a queen in your royal robe of simple purity. A thousand swords, now rusting in ignoble sloth, shall leap from their scabbards to do battle for your honor against wrong. A thousand Sir Rolands shall lay lance in rest, and Fear, Avarice, Pleasure, and Ambition shall go down in the dust before your colors.

你们必须比我们站得更高。红十字骑士是为了尤娜而浴血奋战的，没有人会为了哪位涂脂抹粉、矫揉造作的宫廷贵妇去杀死蛟龙。哦，亲爱的女士们，请让你们的头脑和心灵像你们的面容一样美丽吧，无畏的骑士们就会为你们效命，夺取荣光！哦，女人，请丢掉你们自私自利、厚颜无耻、虚情假意的外衣吧！像女王一样穿上圣洁的皇袍再次站在我们面前吧。这样，一千把因为闲置而正在生锈的利剑将会冲出剑鞘，为您的荣誉与邪恶决一死战；一千位罗兰爵士将会把矛柄支在胸铠上，蓄势待发。在您的光彩下，恐惧、贪婪、享乐和野心将通通坠入尘埃。

What noble deeds were we not ripe for in the days when we loved? What noble lives could we not have lived for her sake? Our love was a religion we could have died for. It was no mere human creature like ourselves that we adored. It was a queen that we paid homage to, a goddess that we worshiped.

在我们陷入爱河的日子里，有什么高尚的行为是我们没有为之准备好的呢？为了她，有什么非凡的生活我们不曾经历？我们的爱情就是我们可以为之牺牲的信仰。我们热爱的对象并不是像我们这样的区区人类，我们敬仰的是女王，我们崇拜的是女神。

And how madly we did worship! And how sweet it was to worship! Ah, lad, cherish love's young dream while it lasts! You will know too soon how truly little Tom Moore sang when he said that there was nothing half so sweet in life. Even when it brings misery it is a wild, romantic misery, all unlike the dull, worldly pain of after-sorrows. When you have lost her—when the light is gone out from your life and the world stretches before you a long, dark horror, even then a half-enchantment mingles with your despair.

我们的崇拜是如此疯狂！而崇拜又是如此甜蜜！小伙子们，在爱情初梦未醒之前，好好珍惜吧！你马上就能体会到年少的托马斯·穆尔唱得多么贴切：世间万物都不如爱情一半儿甜美。即使是痛苦，爱情的痛苦也是疯狂而浪漫的，全然不似经历不幸后那种乏味、世俗的痛苦。当你失去了她—在生命之光黯然熄灭，眼前只剩空荡黑暗的恐怖世界之时，你的绝望中也还是掺杂着一丝陶醉的感觉。

And who would not risk its terrors to gain its raptures? Ah, what raptures they were! The mere recollection thrills you. How delicious it was to tell her that you loved her, that you lived for her, that you would die for her! How you did rave, to be sure, what floods of extravagant nonsense you poured forth, and oh, how cruel it was of her to pretend not to believe you! In what awe you stood of her! How miserable you were when you had offended her! And yet, how pleasant to be bullied by her and to sue for pardon without having the slightest notion of what your fault was! How dark the world was when she snubbed you, as she often did, the little rogue, just to see you look wretched; how sunny when she smiled! How jealous you were of every one about her! How you hated every man she shook hands with, every woman she kissed— the maid that did her hair, the boy that cleaned her shoes, the dog she nursed—though you had to be respectful to the last-named! How you looked forward to seeing her, how stupid you were when you did see her, staring at her without saying a word! How impossible it was for you to go out at any time of the day or night without finding yourself eventually opposite her windows! You hadn't pluck enough to go in, but you hung about the corner and gazed at the outside. Oh, if the house had only caught fire—it was insured, so it wouldn't have mattered— and you could have rushed in and saved her at the risk of your life, and have been terribly burned and injured! Anything to serve her. Even in little things that was so sweet. How you would watch her, spaniel-like, to anticipate her slightest wish! How proud you were to do her bidding! How delightful it was to be ordered about by her! To devote your whole life to her and to never think of yourself seemed such a simple thing. You would go without a holiday to lay a humble offering at her shrine, and felt more than repaid if she only deigned to accept it. How precious to you was everything that she had hallowed by her touch—her little glove, the ribbon she had worn, the rose that had nestled in her hair and whose withered leaves still mark the poems you never care to look at now.

因此，谁不愿意冒着恐惧的危险，去博取爱情的喜悦？那是怎样的狂喜啊！仅仅是事后回想，都会让你激动不已。告诉她你爱她，你为她而生，你愿为她而死——是多么美妙啊！诚然，你是那么语无伦次，你滔滔不绝地倾倒出了多少狂热而荒唐的言语！哦!她假装不会相信，这对你多么残酷！你对她是多么敬畏！假若你对她的尊严稍有冒犯，你是多么痛苦不堪！然而，那些她欺负你、而你一点也不知犯了什么错却仍乞求她原谅的时刻，又是多么甜蜜！她这个小坏蛋，经常会故意冷落你，只为了看你垂头丧气的样子，这种时刻，世界是多么黑暗！而当她绽放笑容的时候，整个世界又是多么阳光灿烂！你是多么嫉妒她周围的每一个人啊！你多么讨厌每个和她握手的男性，每个被她亲吻的女性——为她梳头的女仆，替她擦鞋的侍童，她照料的小狗——但是你却不得不对上面最后提到的这位恭恭敬敬！你是多么渴望见到她！真正见到她时你又是多么傻气，双眼盯着她看，口中却说不出一句话！不管是白天还是夜晚，任何时候，你只要出门，就会发现，要让自己最后不走到她窗户对面，是多么不可能！你还没有足够的勇气进去找她，但你在街角流连，眼光离不开她的窗口。啊，要是房子着火就好了——房子已经上过保险，所以这不会太要紧——然后你就可以冲进房门，冒着生命危险救她脱险，而自己却被严重烧伤！你愿为她做任何事，即使是琐碎的事情也让你感到多么的甜蜜。你甚至会像小狗一样观察她，只为猜出她最微小的愿望。能够服从她的命令，你感到多么自豪！听凭她呼来唤去，又让你多么开心！对你来说，将自己的整个生命奉献给她，彻底忘了自己的存在，是如此简单的一件事情。你会每个节假日都去她的神庙奉上些微薄的贡品，而只要她肯屈尊接受你的供奉，你便会受宠若惊，觉得得到的不仅是回报。她触碰过的一切物品都变得神圣，在你看来都珍贵异常——她的小手套，她系过的绸带，她头发上别过的玫瑰——而这朵玫瑰枯萎的叶子至今仍夹在某本诗集里，只是现在你已懒得再看一眼。

And oh, how beautiful she was, how wondrous beautiful! It was as some angel entering the room, and all else became plain and earthly. She was too sacred to be touched. It seemed almost presumption to gaze at her. You would as soon have thought of kissing her as of singing comic songs in a cathedral. It was desecration enough to kneel and timidly raise the gracious little hand to your lips.

而她是多么美丽，那种美丽又多么令人赞叹！就像走入凡间的天使一样，其他一切都因之变得平庸而俗气。她是如此圣洁，不容任何人触碰。凝视她仿佛几乎是假想。亲吻她就像是在庄重的教堂中放声大唱滑稽小调一样。即使双膝跪地，然后战战兢兢地将她精致的小手举到你唇边，就足以造成对她的亵渎了。

Ah, those foolish days, those foolish days when we were unselfish and pure-minded; those foolish days when our simple hearts were full of truth, and faith, and reverence! Ah, those foolish days of noble longings and of noble strivings! And oh, these wise, clever days when we know that money is the only prize worth striving for, when we believe in nothing else but meanness and lies, when we care for no living creature but ourselves!

啊，那些冒着傻气的日子啊！在那些傻傻的日子里，我们无私而单纯；在那些傻傻的日子里，我们单纯的心里充满了真理、信仰和敬畏；在那些傻傻的日子里，我们有着崇高的渴望和卓绝的奋斗！然后，哦，是这些聪明睿智的日子—我们开始明白金钱才是唯一值得努力奋斗的东西，卑鄙和谎言才是唯一可以相信的东西，我们开始对一切生灵漠不关心，除了我们自己！ og5cPaRrv7M7g5eGhchZPBp1RA0nATIgN3+Z+DzdJ6x8GfrLlbnUb3shBmDD/YWW