安·M. 林德伯格(Anne M. Lindbergh)
How wonderful are islands! Islands in space, like this one I have come to, ringed about by miles of water, linked by no bridges, no cables, no telephones. An island from the world and the world's life. Islands in time, like this short vacation of mine. The past and the future are cut off: only the present remains. One lives like a child or a saint in the immediacy of here and now. Every day, every act, is an island, washed by time and space, and has an island's completion. People, too, become like islands in such an atmosphere, self-contained , whole and serene; respecting other people's solitude, not intruding on their shores, standing back in reverence before the miracle of another individual. “No man is an island,” said John Donne. I feel we are all islands — in a common sea.
We are all, in the last analysis, alone. And this basic state of solitude is not something we have any choice about. It is, as the poet Rilke says, “not something that one can take or leave”. We are solitary. We may delude ourselves and act as though this were not so, yes, even to begin by assuming it. “Naturally,” he goes on to say, “we will turn giddy.”
We seem so frightened today of being alone that we never let it happen. Even if family, friends, and movies should fail, there is still the radio or television to fill up the void. Women, who used to complain of loneliness, need never be alone any more. We can do our housework with soap-opera heroes at our side. Even day-dreaming was more creative than this; it demanded something of oneself and it fed the inner life. Now instead of planting our solitude with our dream blossoms, we choke the space with continuous music, chatter and companionship to which we do not even listen. It is simply there to fill the vacuum . When the noise stops there is no inner music to take its place. We must relearn to be alone.
- saint [seɪnt] n. 圣人，贤人
- immediacy [ɪˈmiːdɪəsɪ] n. 直接，刻不容缓
- self-contained [ˌselfkənˈteɪnd] a. 有自制力的
- delude [dɪˈluːd] v. 欺骗
- vacuum [ˈvækjʊəm] n. 真空，空虚
孤独是多么奇妙呀！空间中的孤岛，跟我现在来到的这一个差不多，有数英里的水域包围，无桥相连，没有电缆，没有电话。一个与世隔绝的孤岛，远离人世生活的孤岛。时间中的孤岛，就像我的这个短假期。过去和未来相隔绝，只有现在的存在。此时此地，人如孩童或圣人般生活着。每一天，每一种行为，都是孤岛，由时间和空间冲刷着，都具有孤岛的完整性。在这种氛围中，人们也变得像孤岛一样，独立自主，完整安详，尊重他人的孤独，不践踏他人的海岸半步，毕恭毕敬地在他人的奇迹面前靠后站。“没有一个人是孤岛，”约翰·多恩这么说。我却感觉到我们都是孤岛——在共同的海洋里。
归根到底，我们都是孤单的。这种孤独的基本状态不由我们选择。正如诗人里尔克所说：“不是一个人可以取舍的。”我们是孤独的。我们可能欺骗自己，做起事来好像不是这么回事似的。“当然啦，”诗人接着说，“我们会弄得头晕目眩。”
现在我们似乎对孤独非常恐惧，千方百计不让孤独产生。即使家庭破裂，朋友反目，电影乏味，还是有收音机和电视可以填补空白。女人们从前抱怨孤独，现在想孤独也办不到，做家务还可以看肥皂剧呢。甚至以前的白日梦也比这更富有创造性；白日梦要求本人付出点什么才能做得成，可以充实内心世界。我们用接二连三的音乐、闲扯、伙伴把孤独的空间堵死，就算我们根本心不在焉。我们本该用白日梦的似锦繁花，种在孤独这片小岛上的呀。还是重新学会独处吧。
安·M. 林德伯格(1906—2001)，生于美国新泽西州。父亲当过美驻外大使。丈夫查尔斯·林德柏格(1902—1974)是著名飞行员，夫妻俩曾合作飞往澳大利亚，所以安·林德伯格有许多著作是关于飞行的。20世纪70年代写的《黄金岁月，铅的岁月》(Hour of Gold,Hour of Lead )就是取材于其飞行经历。此外还出版了《未来浪潮》(The Wave of the Future ，1940)，《大海的礼物》(Gift from the Sea ，1955)等。