My Portrait

But after all I am no amoeba, no mere sack and stomach;I am capable of discourse, can ride a bicycle, look up trains in Bradshaw; in fact I am and calmly boast myself a Human Being—that Masterpiece of Nature, and noblest fruit of time—I am a rational, polite, meat-eating Man.

What stellar collisions and conflagrations, what floods and slaughters and enormous efforts has it not cost the Universe to make me—of what astral periods and cosmic processes am I not the crown, the wonder?

Where, then, is the Esplanade or world-dominating Terrace for my sublime Statue; the landscape of palaces and triumphal arches for the background of my Portrait; stairs of marble, flung against the sunset, not too narrow and ignoble for me to pause with ample gesture on their balustraded flights?

我的肖像

可我到底不是阿米巴虫，不光是个胃囊是副皮囊；我能说会写，会骑单车，会看全国的火车时刻表定班次；事实上我是，而且也心安理得地自诩为人类一名——天地之杰作，岁月之正果——我是一个有理性的、懂礼貌的、吃肉的人。

有什么星球碰撞、水火劫难、伤生害命的代价，有什么惊天动地的努力宇宙没有付出过，这才造出了我？——有什么星辰升降宇宙演化，不以我为冠冕、为奇迹？

那么，何处才是通衢大道的广场，或雄视万物的高台，足以摆放我崇高的塑像？何处才有一座座宫殿一道道凯旋门，足以充作我肖像的背景？何处才有玉石台阶，迎着夕照拔地而起，不会太窄，也不会显得小气，让我在拾级而上时，气气派派地驻足凭栏？