03 12月, 2011
要珍惜，沒感覺是因為沒有用 "心" 去看
閱讀是學行銷、做文創、刺激自己想法最好的方式。
閱讀的美，在於閱讀後帶來的思考。當我們理解、反思之後，會把這份領悟添加在我們的人生履歷中。閱讀的美，在於親身經歷作者的布局，就像一出戲劇，演出了鋪陳、演出了高潮、演出了結果。閱讀也是欣賞，那種感受，因人因事因時而有不同。
正如小王子裡說的：
沙漠之所以美麗，就是因為某處藏著一口井。
"What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well."
(小王子第二十四章/The Little Prince: Chapter 24)
別總是以為事物都如外觀那樣，其實錯了，就算再糟糕的環境中，裡面也會有一座天堂的。
這裡面還有幾句。
對啊，我對小王子說，房屋、星辰、沙漠，讓她們美麗是因為有種看不見的東西。
"Yes," I said to the little prince. "The house, the stars, the desert-- what gives them their beauty is something that is invisible!"
我只看到表面，但是最重要的東西卻看不見。
What I see here is nothing but a shell. What is most important is invisible
珍惜。這兩個是就這樣浮出我的腦子。
原來，Antoine de Saint Exupéry (小王子作者) 用心、用筆、透過文字與我交換了這個概念。最後，他在最後一章，用明示的手法 (如果看不出來，那就是暗示啦) 告訴我答案。
眼是盲的，我們必須用心去看。
The eyes are blind. One must look with the heart.
這是一本好書，推薦大家細細品味。
原文是法文，但翻成英文後翻得真的很好。
如果想體會書中情境，還是建議找本英文來看。
閱讀小王子 (英文)。
按這裡http://classicalsays.blogspot.com/
閱讀小王子 (僅第二十四章)：
Chapter 24
It was now the eighth day since I had had my accident in the desert, and I had listened to the story of the merchant as I was drinking the last drop of my water supply.
"Ah," I said to the little prince, "these memories of yours are very charming; but I have not yet succeeded in repairing my plane; I have nothing more to drink; and I, too, should be very happy if I could walk at my leisure toward a spring of fresh water!"
"My friend the fox--" the little prince said to me.
"My dear little man, this is no longer a matter that has anything to do with the fox!"
"Why not?"
"Because I am about to die of thirst..."
He did not follow my reasoning, and he answered me:
"It is a good thing to have had a friend, even if one is about to die. I, for instance, am very glad to have had a fox as a friend..."
"He has no way of guessing the danger," I said to myself. "He has never been either hungry or thirsty. A little sunshine is all he needs..."
But he looked at me steadily, and replied to my thought:
"I am thirsty, too. Let us look for a well..."
I made a gesture of weariness. It is absurd to look for a well, at random, in the immensity of the desert. But nevertheless we started walking.
When we had trudged along for several hours, in silence, the darkness fell, and the stars began to come out. Thirst had made me a little feverish, and I looked at them as if I were in a dream. The little prince's last words came reeling back into my memory:
"Then you are thirsty, too?" I demanded.
But he did not reply to my question. He merely said to me:
"Water may also be good for the heart..."
I did not understand this answer, but I said nothing. I knew very well that it was impossible to cross-examine him.
He was tired. He sat down. I sat down beside him. And, after a little silence, he spoke again:
"The stars are beautiful, because of a flower that cannot be seen."
I replied, "Yes, that is so." And, without saying anything more, I looked across the ridges of sand that were stretched out before us in the moonlight.
"The desert is beautiful," the little prince added.
And that was true. I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams...
"What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well..."
I was astonished by a sudden understanding of that mysterious radiation of the sands. When I was a little boy I lived in an old house, and legend told us that a treasure was buried there. To be sure, no one had ever known how to find it; perhaps no one had ever even looked for it. But it cast an enchantment over that house. My home was hiding a secret in the depths of its heart...
"Yes," I said to the little prince. "The house, the stars, the desert-- what gives them their beauty is something that is invisible!"
"I am glad," he said, "that you agree with my fox."
As the little prince dropped off to sleep, I took him in my arms and set out walking once more. I felt deeply moved, and stirred. It seemed to me that I was carrying a very fragile treasure. It seemed to me, even, that there was nothing more fragile on all Earth. In the moonlight I looked at his pale forehead, his closed eyes, his locks of hair that trembled in the wind, and I said to myself: "What I see here is nothing but a shell. What is most important is invisible..."
As his lips opened slightly with the suspicious of a half-smile, I said to myself, again: "What moves me so deeply, about this little prince who is sleeping here, is his loyalty to a flower-- the image of a rose that shines through his whole being like the flame of a lamp, even when he is asleep..." And I felt him to be more fragile still. I felt the need of protecting him, as if he himself were a flame that might be extinguished by a little puff of wind...
And, as I walked on so, I found the well, at daybreak.
閱讀的美，在於閱讀後帶來的思考。當我們理解、反思之後，會把這份領悟添加在我們的人生履歷中。閱讀的美，在於親身經歷作者的布局，就像一出戲劇，演出了鋪陳、演出了高潮、演出了結果。閱讀也是欣賞，那種感受，因人因事因時而有不同。
正如小王子裡說的：
沙漠之所以美麗，就是因為某處藏著一口井。
"What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well."
(小王子第二十四章/The Little Prince: Chapter 24)
別總是以為事物都如外觀那樣，其實錯了，就算再糟糕的環境中，裡面也會有一座天堂的。
這裡面還有幾句。
對啊，我對小王子說，房屋、星辰、沙漠，讓她們美麗是因為有種看不見的東西。
"Yes," I said to the little prince. "The house, the stars, the desert-- what gives them their beauty is something that is invisible!"
我只看到表面，但是最重要的東西卻看不見。
What I see here is nothing but a shell. What is most important is invisible
珍惜。這兩個是就這樣浮出我的腦子。
原來，Antoine de Saint Exupéry (小王子作者) 用心、用筆、透過文字與我交換了這個概念。最後，他在最後一章，用明示的手法 (如果看不出來，那就是暗示啦) 告訴我答案。
眼是盲的，我們必須用心去看。
The eyes are blind. One must look with the heart.
這是一本好書，推薦大家細細品味。
原文是法文，但翻成英文後翻得真的很好。
如果想體會書中情境，還是建議找本英文來看。
閱讀小王子 (英文)。
按這裡http://classicalsays.blogspot.com/
閱讀小王子 (僅第二十四章)：
Chapter 24
It was now the eighth day since I had had my accident in the desert, and I had listened to the story of the merchant as I was drinking the last drop of my water supply.
"Ah," I said to the little prince, "these memories of yours are very charming; but I have not yet succeeded in repairing my plane; I have nothing more to drink; and I, too, should be very happy if I could walk at my leisure toward a spring of fresh water!"
"My friend the fox--" the little prince said to me.
"My dear little man, this is no longer a matter that has anything to do with the fox!"
"Why not?"
"Because I am about to die of thirst..."
He did not follow my reasoning, and he answered me:
"It is a good thing to have had a friend, even if one is about to die. I, for instance, am very glad to have had a fox as a friend..."
"He has no way of guessing the danger," I said to myself. "He has never been either hungry or thirsty. A little sunshine is all he needs..."
But he looked at me steadily, and replied to my thought:
"I am thirsty, too. Let us look for a well..."
I made a gesture of weariness. It is absurd to look for a well, at random, in the immensity of the desert. But nevertheless we started walking.
When we had trudged along for several hours, in silence, the darkness fell, and the stars began to come out. Thirst had made me a little feverish, and I looked at them as if I were in a dream. The little prince's last words came reeling back into my memory:
"Then you are thirsty, too?" I demanded.
But he did not reply to my question. He merely said to me:
"Water may also be good for the heart..."
I did not understand this answer, but I said nothing. I knew very well that it was impossible to cross-examine him.
He was tired. He sat down. I sat down beside him. And, after a little silence, he spoke again:
"The stars are beautiful, because of a flower that cannot be seen."
I replied, "Yes, that is so." And, without saying anything more, I looked across the ridges of sand that were stretched out before us in the moonlight.
"The desert is beautiful," the little prince added.
And that was true. I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams...
"What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well..."
I was astonished by a sudden understanding of that mysterious radiation of the sands. When I was a little boy I lived in an old house, and legend told us that a treasure was buried there. To be sure, no one had ever known how to find it; perhaps no one had ever even looked for it. But it cast an enchantment over that house. My home was hiding a secret in the depths of its heart...
"Yes," I said to the little prince. "The house, the stars, the desert-- what gives them their beauty is something that is invisible!"
"I am glad," he said, "that you agree with my fox."
As the little prince dropped off to sleep, I took him in my arms and set out walking once more. I felt deeply moved, and stirred. It seemed to me that I was carrying a very fragile treasure. It seemed to me, even, that there was nothing more fragile on all Earth. In the moonlight I looked at his pale forehead, his closed eyes, his locks of hair that trembled in the wind, and I said to myself: "What I see here is nothing but a shell. What is most important is invisible..."
As his lips opened slightly with the suspicious of a half-smile, I said to myself, again: "What moves me so deeply, about this little prince who is sleeping here, is his loyalty to a flower-- the image of a rose that shines through his whole being like the flame of a lamp, even when he is asleep..." And I felt him to be more fragile still. I felt the need of protecting him, as if he himself were a flame that might be extinguished by a little puff of wind...
And, as I walked on so, I found the well, at daybreak.
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