The Coming of Fate

When I seek out the sources of my thoughts, I find they had their beginning in fragile Chance; were born of little moments that shine for me curiously in the past. Slight the impulse that made me take this turning at the crossroads, trivial and fortuitous the meeting, and light as gossamer the thread that first knit me to my friend. These are full of wonder; more mysterious are the moments that must have brushed me with their wings and passed me by: when Fate beckoned and I did not see it, when new Life trembled for a second on the threshold;but the word was not spoken, the hand was not held out, and the Might-have-been shivered and vanished, dim as a dream, into the waste realms of non-existence.

So I never lose a sense of the whimsical and perilous charm of daily life, with its meetings and words and accidents. Why, to day, perhaps, or next week, I may hear a voice, and, packing up my Gladstone bag, follow it to the ends of the world.

机缘

我在探求我各种思绪的源头时，发现它们都始自稍纵即逝的机遇，生于过去那些莫名其妙为我乍现灵光的刹那。是小小的冲动让我在十字路口转这边而不转那边，不期然的小小幸会让人得以见面，细如游丝的那根线把我和朋友拉到一起。这一切自是充满奇妙；更神秘的是那些如羽翼轻拂、过而无痕的时刻：命运召唤了我，我却视而不见，新的生活在门槛上倏忽一闪；但没等话说出口，没等手伸出来，那个“也许可能”就颤悠悠地不见了，如梦如幻，没入荒凉的乌有之境。

因此我永远不会失去一种对日常生活的意识，来感受它那飘忽不定、凶吉难卜的魅力：那些个相逢相聚、话长话短，那些个意外和偶然。嗯，今天，也许吧，或者下星期，我说不定就听到一个声音，便收拾好我的行囊，跟着它到地角天边。