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第5章

09-the ponds-第5章

小说: 09-the ponds 字数: 每页4000字

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rising to the surface and dimpling it; sometimes leaving bubbles on

it。  In such transparent and seemingly bottomless water; reflecting

the clouds; I seemed to be floating through the air as in a balloon;

and their swimming impressed me as a kind of flight or hovering; as

if they were a compact flock of birds passing just beneath my level

on the right or left; their fins; like sails; set all around them。

There were many such schools in the pond; apparently improving the

short season before winter would draw an icy shutter over their

broad skylight; sometimes giving to the surface an appearance as if

a slight breeze struck it; or a few rain…drops fell there。  When I

approached carelessly and alarmed them; they made a sudden splash

and rippling with their tails; as if one had struck the water with a

brushy bough; and instantly took refuge in the depths。  At length

the wind rose; the mist increased; and the waves began to run; and

the perch leaped much higher than before; half out of water; a

hundred black points; three inches long; at once above the surface。

Even as late as the fifth of December; one year; I saw some dimples

on the surface; and thinking it was going to rain hard immediately;

the air being fun of mist; I made haste to take my place at the oars

and row homeward; already the rain seemed rapidly increasing; though

I felt none on my cheek; and I anticipated a thorough soaking。  But

suddenly the dimples ceased; for they were produced by the perch;

which the noise of my oars had seared into the depths; and I saw

their schools dimly disappearing; so I spent a dry afternoon after

all。

    An old man who used to frequent this pond nearly sixty years

ago; when it was dark with surrounding forests; tells me that in

those days he sometimes saw it all alive with ducks and other

water…fowl; and that there were many eagles about it。  He came here

a…fishing; and used an old log canoe which he found on the shore。

It was made of two white pine logs dug out and pinned together; and

was cut off square at the ends。  It was very clumsy; but lasted a

great many years before it became water…logged and perhaps sank to

the bottom。  He did not know whose it was; it belonged to the pond。

He used to make a cable for his anchor of strips of hickory bark

tied together。  An old man; a potter; who lived by the pond before

the Revolution; told him once that there was an iron chest at the

bottom; and that he had seen it。  Sometimes it would come floating

up to the shore; but when you went toward it; it would go back into

deep water and disappear。  I was pleased to hear of the old log

canoe; which took the place of an Indian one of the same material

but more graceful construction; which perchance had first been a

tree on the bank; and then; as it were; fell into the water; to

float there for a generation; the most proper vessel for the lake。

I remember that when I first looked into these depths there were

many large trunks to be seen indistinctly lying on the bottom; which

had either been blown over formerly; or left on the ice at the last

cutting; when wood was cheaper; but now they have mostly

disappeared。

    When I first paddled a boat on Walden; it was completely

surrounded by thick and lofty pine and oak woods; and in some of its

coves grape…vines had run over the trees next the water and formed

bowers under which a boat could pass。  The hills which form its

shores are so steep; and the woods on them were then so high; that;

as you looked down from the west end; it had the appearance of an

amphitheatre for some land of sylvan spectacle。  I have spent many

an hour; when I was younger; floating over its surface as the zephyr

willed; having paddled my boat to the middle; and lying on my back

across the seats; in a summer forenoon; dreaming awake; until I was

aroused by the boat touching the sand; and I arose to see what shore

my fates had impelled me to; days when idleness was the most

attractive and productive industry。  Many a forenoon have I stolen

away; preferring to spend thus the most valued part of the day; for

I was rich; if not in money; in sunny hours and summer days; and

spent them lavishly; nor do I regret that I did not waste more of

them in the workshop or the teacher's desk。  But since I left those

shores the woodchoppers have still further laid them waste; and now

for many a year there will be no more rambling through the aisles of

the wood; with occasional vistas through which you see the water。

My Muse may be excused if she is silent henceforth。  How can you

expect the birds to sing when their groves are cut down?

    Now the trunks of trees on the bottom; and the old log canoe;

and the dark surrounding woods; are gone; and the villagers; who

scarcely know where it lies; instead of going to the pond to bathe

or drink; are thinking to bring its water; which should be as sacred

as the Ganges at least; to the village in a pipe; to wash their

dishes with!  to earn their Walden by the turning of a cock or

drawing of a plug!  That devilish Iron Horse; whose ear…rending

neigh is heard throughout the town; has muddied the Boiling Spring

with his foot; and he it is that has browsed off all the woods on

Walden shore; that Trojan horse; with a thousand men in his belly;

introduced by mercenary Greeks!  Where is the country's champion;

the Moore of Moore Hill; to meet him at the Deep Cut and thrust an

avenging lance between the ribs of the bloated pest?

    Nevertheless; of all the characters I have known; perhaps Walden

wears best; and best preserves its purity。  Many men have been

likened to it; but few deserve that honor。  Though the woodchoppers

have laid bare first this shore and then that; and the Irish have

built their sties by it; and the railroad has infringed on its

border; and the ice…men have skimmed it once; it is itself

unchanged; the same water which my youthful eyes fell on; all the

change is in me。  It has not acquired one permanent wrinkle after

all its ripples。  It is perennially young; and I may stand and see a

swallow dip apparently to pick an insect from its surface as of

yore。  It struck me again tonight; as if I had not seen it almost

daily for more than twenty years  Why; here is Walden; the same

woodland lake that I discovered so many years ago; where a forest

was cut down last winter another is springing up by its shore as

lustily as ever; the same thought is welling up to its surface that

was then; it is the same liquid joy and happiness to itself and its

Maker; ay; and it may be to me。  It is the work of a brave man

surely; in whom there was no guile!  He rounded this water with his

hand; deepened and clarified it in his thought; and in his will

bequeathed it to Concord。  I see by its face that it is visited by

the same reflection; and I can almost say; Walden; is it you?



              It is no dream of mine;

              To ornament a line;

              I cannot come nearer to God and Heaven

              Than I live to Walden even。

              I am its stony shore;

              And the breeze that passes o'er;

              In the hollow of my hand

              Are its water and its sand;

              And its deepest resort

              Lies high in my thought。



    The cars never pause to look at it; yet I fancy that the

engineers and firemen and brakemen; and those passengers who have a

season ticket and see it often; are better men for the sight。  The

engineer does not forget at night; or his nature does not; that he

has beheld this vision of serenity and purity once at least during

the day。  Though seen but once; it helps to wash out State Street

and the engine's soot。  One proposes that it be called 〃God's Drop。〃

    I have said that Walden has no visible inlet nor outlet; but it

is on the one hand distantly and indirectly related to Flint's Pond;

which is more elevated; by a chain of small ponds coming from that

quarter; and o

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