by Yehuda Amichai

A man doesnt have time in his life

to have time for everything. He doesnt have seasons enough to have a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes

Was wrong about that.

A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment， to laugh and cry with the same eyes，

with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them， to make love in war and war in love.

And to hate and forgive and remember and forget，

to arrange and confuse， to eat and to digest

what history

takes years and years to do.

A man doesnt have time.

When he loses he seeks， when he finds he forgets， when he forgets he loves， when he loves he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned， his soul

is very professional. Only his body remains forever an amateur. It tries and it misses， gets muddled， doesnt learn a thing， drunk and blind in its pleasures

and its pains. He will die as figs die in autumn，

Shriveled and full of himself and sweet，

the leaves growing dry on the ground，

the bare branches pointing to the place where theres time for everything.

人這一輩子沒(méi)有足夠的時(shí)間沒(méi)有時(shí)間顧暇所有的事情。

人沒(méi)有足夠的四季時(shí)日去逐一成就目標(biāo)?！秱鞯罆分兴?/p>

是錯(cuò)誤的。

在同一個(gè)瞬間，人需要兼顧愛(ài)與恨，需要用同一雙眸子歡笑和哭泣，用同一雙手投擲并收集石頭，在爭(zhēng)斗中去愛(ài)，也在愛(ài)中爭(zhēng)斗。恨過(guò)了然后諒解，憶起了再忘卻，理清了再混淆，吃過(guò)了再消化

這是何等的歷史年復(fù)一年，周而復(fù)始。人沒(méi)有時(shí)間。

他丟了東西就去找，找到了

又遺忘，忘了便去愛(ài)，愛(ài)了又開始遺忘。

人的靈魂是老練的，人的靈魂非常老道。

唯有軀體依舊是個(gè)

愣頭青。它屢試屢敗，懵懵懂懂，什么也沒(méi)學(xué)會(huì)，在它的快樂(lè)與痛苦中

酩酊與盲目。

在秋天，人會(huì)像無(wú)花果一樣死去，既干癟，又自滿，還芳香四溢，

葉子在地上日漸干枯，光禿禿的樹枝指向那個(gè)地方那個(gè)萬(wàn)物皆有其時(shí)的地方。

最初看到那些文字，還以為是篇老者在隨意講述陳年往事的文章，看到一半才發(fā)現(xiàn)竟是一首詩(shī)。詩(shī)中的語(yǔ)氣也不知是從哪個(gè)點(diǎn)開始，突然變得莊重?zé)o比，莊重到我以為擺在我面前的，竟然是我的人生。追隨著阿米亥的詩(shī)句，人生的外衣一層一層被剝開：遺失后就去尋找、找到了又開始遺忘、恨過(guò)了又開始諒解，年復(fù)一年、周而復(fù)始。沒(méi)錯(cuò)，他揪出了掩蓋于表象之下的真相；他甚至只用了一個(gè)“無(wú)花果”的比喻就激起了我們強(qiáng)烈的自憐；他讓我們發(fā)現(xiàn)了一切錯(cuò)失的美好，而后沉默良久。其實(shí)生命就這樣緩緩地過(guò)、雷同地過(guò)，沒(méi)什么不好，因?yàn)槲覀兛倳?huì)走到那個(gè)萬(wàn)物皆有其時(shí)的地方，平淡快樂(lè)。