碎金集 2021 Fortuitous Gold Nuggets 2021 第 02 篇 Section 02
一月 跨年的祝祭 January: The New Year's Eve Libation
返回 碎金集 2021 Back to Fortuitous Gold Nuggets 2021“深夜。我的小屋里，白墙黑底，暖灯温床。”
“Deep in the night. In my small room: white walls, a black floor, warm lamp, cozy bed.”
“当尘埃缓慢落在黑底板上，朴实而温暖的灯光打在作业纸上，圆锥曲线生硬的线条也似乎变得柔和可亲。”
“As dust settles slowly upon the dark floor, the unpretentious and warm light falls across the homework paper, and the rigid lines of conic curves seem to turn gentle and amiable as well.”
以上不过是一段别人的作文。真实的元旦夜，总不离这几件事，刷动态、视频，刷到23点左右的盯着作业发呆，心中暗自为一年的成就与失败，或激动或神伤。
The above is merely an excerpt from someone else’s composition. The actual night of New Year’s Day never strays far from these routine trivialities: scrolling through social media feeds and videos until around eleven at night, staring blankly at homework, quietly stirred or dejected over the year’s achievements and failures.
又是一年了。
Another year has passed.
年是一头猛兽，逃得过他，人们就要互相庆贺。但其实又何必过年？过年不过是把有限的人生分划成一段段，每经过一段便欢呼一次，却不知离死亡又更近了一步。人们所过的年，并不是脱逃门外的年兽，也不是祭奠逝去的岁月，而是重温每个人的收获。
The year is a ferocious beast; having escaped its jaws, mortals congratulate one another. Yet why must we celebrate the New Year? Celebrating the new year is nothing more than dividing a finite existence into discrete segments, cheering each time a threshold is crossed, blissfully unaware that one has moved one step closer to death. What people celebrate is neither the mythical Nian beast chased beyond the doorway nor a memorial service for departed years, but rather a revisit of each individual’s harvest.
不知从哪一年起，我开始记日记。又不知从那一年起，我开始变得越来越有“仪式感”，在每个节假日总先想停下来，回过头张望张望，然后再不甘地向前走。
I know not in which year I began keeping a diary. Nor do I know from which year onward I developed an ever-increasing yearning for “ritual”: on every festival and holiday, I instinctively want to pause, look back over my shoulder, and then step reluctantly forward once more.
史铁生说，人是一团无尽的矛盾。那么在我看来，这矛盾似还有愈活愈深的趋势。我们的心立在时间里，每一分、每一秒都经受着来自世间万物的冲击。我们试图从中选择一种对自己最有利的路，但无法，机会永远只有一次，失败永远比成功多。
Shi Tiesheng remarked that a human being is an endless knot of contradictions. To my mind, this contradiction seems to deepen the longer one lives. Our hearts stand lodged within time, buffeted every minute and every second by the impacts of all creation. We attempt to choose the path most advantageous to ourselves, yet we cannot: opportunities arrive only once, and failures will always outnumber triumphs.
人们于是闭眼安慰道：“失败是成功之母。”并创造了那么多节日，好让人们从生活中脱离开——哪怕一小会儿。闭上眼睛，好好思考。毕竟正如钱钟书所言：“为了快乐，人们宁可慢死，前方总有成功的快乐，不努力怎么知道？”
People thus close their eyes in comfort, saying: “Failure is the mother of success.” And they invented so many holidays simply to detach themselves from daily living—if only for a fleeting moment. Close your eyes and reflect deeply. After all, as Qian Zhongshu observed: “For the sake of happiness, people would rather die a slow death; there is always the joy of success ahead, and without striving, how would one know?”
每个人去老天那里捧来相同的时间，通过自己的能力去折现成经历、财富，爱情，友谊……同一个年，在大有作为的人手中能物尽其用，而在碌碌无为的人手中只能化作岁月的蹉跎。凝望着黑夜，我的心中如同洪水猛兽一般，久久不能平静。
Each person cupping from Heaven the identical allotment of time cashes it in through their own abilities into experience, wealth, love, friendship… The exact same year can be utilized to its fullest in the hands of an achiever, whereas in the hands of the mediocre it turns into nothing more than wasted years. Gazing into the dark night, my heart surges like a ferocious torrent, unable to settle for a long time.
2020年也算是过去了。不论前一年如何，当你开始努力，那就永远不晚。
The year 2020 can at last be considered over. Regardless of how the preceding year unfolded, once you begin to strive, it is never too late.
2021，来吧。
2021, come on.