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原帖由 astina 于 2009-3-29 16:50 发表 
你明白我为什么不养宠物了吗？实在看到太多的例子，便对自己也不是那么有信心了
嗯，我明白
刚才在看祖述宪的blog时还发现这样一篇文章。很没出息地看哭了。
一个狗的遗嘱（附原文） 尤金·奥尼尔 诺贝尔文学奖获得者 （李汉昭译） [ 尤金·奥尼尔(Eugene O'Neill，1888～1953)，美国戏剧家。1936年诺贝尔文学奖获得者。由于他的创作，美国的戏剧事业得以在1920年代发展起来，成为美国文化领域中堪与小说、绘画和音乐作品媲美的艺术形式。他的剧作甚多，优秀的有：《东航卡迪夫》、《天边外》、《毛猿》、《榆树下的欲望》、《奇异的插曲》、《啊、荒野》和《无穷的岁月》等，他被誉为美国的莎士比亚。]
我叫席尔维丹·安伯伦·欧尼尔，而家人、朋友和熟识我的人，都叫我伯莱明。衰老给我带来的负担，以及恶魔般的疾病让我承受的痛苦，都让我认识到自己已走到了生命的尽头，因此，我将把最后的情感和遗嘱埋葬于主人的心中。直到我死了之后，他才会蓦然发现，这些情感和遗嘱就埋藏在他心灵的一隅，当他孤寂时，或许会想起我，然而就在那一瞬间，他会突然感受到这份遗嘱的内容，我期望他能将此铭记于心，当作是对我的纪念。
我可以遗留下来的实质东西少得可怜。其实我们比人类更聪明，我们不会将一些乱七八糟的东西收藏在一个大仓库里，也不会把时间浪费在储藏金钱上，更不会为了保持现有的或者得到没有的东西，而扰乱自己的睡眠。除了爱和信赖，我没有什么值钱的东西可以留给他人。我将这些留给所有爱过我的人，尤其是我的男主人和女主人，我知道他们会为我的离去献上最深切的哀悼。希望我的男主人和女主人能将我牢记在心，但并不要为我悲伤太久。在我的有生之年里，我会竭尽所能为他们孤寂而悲伤的生活增添一些欢欣和喜悦，但一想到我的死将会给他们带来悲伤，便让我痛苦不已。
我要让他们知道，没有任何狗曾像我这样快乐地生活，而这全都得归功于他们对我的关爱。如今我已经老得又瞎又聋又瘸，连昔日灵敏的嗅觉也已丧失殆尽。现在，即使是一只兔子在我的鼻子底下恣意走动，我也浑然不觉，我的尊严在病痛和衰老中已经消失，这是一种莫名的耻辱，生命似乎也在嘲弄我的无力。我知道，我应该在病到成了自己以及所有爱我的人的负担之前与大家道别。我的悲伤来自于即将离开自己所爱的人，而非死亡。狗并不像人一样惧怕死亡，我们接受死亡为生命的一部分，并非认为那是一种毁掉生命的恐怖灵异。有谁能够知道死亡之后会是什么呢？
我宁愿相信那里是天堂。在那里，每个人都青春永驻，美食饱腹。那里每天都有精彩和有趣的事情发生。我们在任何时刻都可以享受到美味食物。在每个漫长的夜晚，都有无数永不熄灭的壁炉，那些燃烧的木柴一根根卷曲起来，闪烁着火焰的光芒，我们倦怠地打着盹，进入甜蜜的梦乡。梦中会再现我们在人世间的英勇时光，以及对男主人和女主人的无限爱怜。
对我们来说，要预知死亡的日期，的确是一件很困难的事情，但是死亡前的平静和安详却一定是有的。给予衰老疲倦的身心一个安详而长久的休憩之所，让我在人世间得以长眠。我已享受到充裕的爱，这里，将是我最完美的归宿。
我最后还有一个诚挚的祈求。我曾听到女主人说：“伯莱明死后，我再也不会养别的狗了。我是如此地爱它，这种感情无法再倾注到别的狗身上。”
如今我要恳求她，再养一只狗吧！把对我的那些爱给它。永不再饲养别的狗，并不会加重她对我的回忆之情。
我希望能够感受到，这个家庭一旦有了我之后，便无法再生活在没有狗的日子里。我绝不是那种心胸狭窄、嫉妒心强的狗。我一直认为大部分的狗都是善良的。的接班人应该像我年轻时一样，有着旺盛的繁殖能力和良好的行为举止，而且又是那样的杰出和帅气。我的男主人和女主人千万不要勉强它做无法办到的事情。但它会尽全力把一切事情做到最好，一定会的！当然它也会有一些无法避免的缺陷，别人总会拿这些缺陷跟我做比较，但这反而有助于他们对我的回忆常葆如新。把我的颈圈、皮带、外套和雨衣遗留给它。以往大家总会带着赞叹的眼光看着我穿戴这些东西，虽然它穿戴起来绝对无法像我那样英姿飒爽，但我深信，它一定会竭尽所能地不要把自己表现得像个笨拙、没见过世面的狗。
在这个牧场上，它也许会在某些方面，证明自己是值得和我媲美的。我想，至少在追逐长耳大野兔这件事上，它一定会表现得比我衰老时优秀。虽然它有许多无法弥补的缺点，但我依然希望它在我的老家过得幸福快乐。亲爱的男主人和女主人，这是我道别最后一个请求。无论在什么时候，如果你们到我的坟前看我，借助我与你们相伴一生长久、快乐的回忆。
请以满怀哀伤而欢欣的口吻对你们自己说：“这里埋葬着爱着我们和我们所爱的朋友。”不管我睡得多沉，依旧可以听到你们的呼唤，所有的死神都无法阻止我对你们欢快地摇摆尾巴的心意。
The Last Will and Testament
of An Extremely Distinguished Dog |
The reputation of Eugene O'Neill as the American Shakespeare was established even before his death in 1953. O'Neill's output was formidable - more than 30 plays, including the posthumously produced classic, Long Day's Journey Into Night. He was a Nobel Prize winner. Reflecting his own tempestuous emotional background - be came from a yeasty but tragic Irish-American family - his plays are rarely engaging. So his epitaph to his dog is a rarity among O'Neill documents - sentimental, even whimsical, close in spirit to his one major comedy, Ah Wilderness! The dog was acquired at a relatively peaceful period of O'Neill's life. He and his protective third wife, the beautiful actress Carlotta Monterey, looked upon it as their 'child.' O'Neill wrote Blemie's will as a comfort to Carlotta just before the dog died in its old age in December 1940.
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Last Will and Testament
I, Silverdene Emblem O'Neill (familiarly known to my family, friends and acquaintances as Blemie), because the burden of my years is heavy upon me, and I realize the end of my life is near, do hereby bury my last will andtestament in the mind of my Master. He will not know it is there until I am dead. Then, remembering me in his loneliness, he will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask him then to inscribe it as a memorial to me.
I have little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are wiser than men. They do not set great store upon things. They do not waste their time hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about objects they have, and to obtain the objects they have not. There is nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my faith. These I leave to those who have loved me, to my Master and Mistress, who I know will mourn me most, to Freeman who has been so good to me, to Cyn and Roy and Willie and Naomi and - but if I should list all those who have loved me it would force my Master to write a book. Perhaps it is in vain of me to boast when I am so near death, which returns all beasts and vanities to dust, but I have always been an extremely lovable dog.
I ask my Master and Mistress to remember me always, but not to grieve for me too long. In my life I have tried to be a comfort to them in time of sorrow, and a reason for added joy in their happiness. It is painful for me to think that even in death I should cause them pain. Let them remember that while no dog has ever had a happier life (and this I owe to their love and care for me), now that I have grown blind and deaf and lame, and even my sense of smell fails me so that a rabbit could be right under my nose and I might not know, my pride has sunk to a sick, bewildered humiliation. I feel life is taunting me with having over lingered my welcome. It is time I said good-by, before I become too sick a burden on myself and on those who love me.
It will be sorrow to leave them, but not a sorrow to die. Dogs do not fear death as men do. We accept it as part of life, not as something alien and terrible which destroys life. What may come after death, who knows? I would like to believe with those of my fellow Dalmatians who are devout Mohammedans, that there is a Paradise where one is always young and full-bladdered; here all the day one dillies and dallies with an amorous multitude of houris, beautifully spotted; where jack-rabbits that run fast but not too fast (like the houris) are as the sands of the desert; where each blissful hour is mealtime; where in long evenings there are a million fireplaces with logs forever burning and one curls oneself up and blinks into the flames and nods and dreams, remembering the old brave days on earth, and the love of one's Master and Mistress.
I am afraid this is too much for even such a dog as I am to expect. But peace, at least, is certain. Peace and long rest for weary old heart and head and limbs, and eternal sleeps in the earth I have loved so well. Perhaps, after all, this is best.
One last request I earnestly make. I have heard my Mistress say, 'When Blemie dies we must never have another dog. I love him so much I could never love another one.' Now I would ask her, for love of me, to have another. It would be a poor tribute to my memory never to have a dog again. What I would like to feel is that, having once had me in the family, now she cannot live without a dog! I have never had a narrow jealous spirit. I have always held that most dogs are good (and one cat, the black one I have permitted to share the living-room rug during the evenings, whose affection I have tolerated in a kindly spirit, and in rare sentimental moods, even reciprocated a trifle). Some dogs, of course, are better than others. Dalmatians, naturally, as everyone knows, are best.
So I suggest a Dalmatian as my successor. He can hardly be as well bred, or as well mannered or as distinguished and handsome as I was in my prime. My Master and Mistress must not ask the impossible. But he will do his best, I am sure, and even his inevitable defects will help by comparison to keep my memory green. To him I bequeath my collar and leash and my overcoat and raincoat, made to order in 1929 at Hermes in Paris. He can never wear them with the distinction I did, walking around the Place Vendome, or later along Park Avenue, all eyes fixed on me in admiration; but again I am sure he will do his utmost not to appear a mere gauche provincial dog. Here on the ranch, he may prove himself quite worthy of comparison, in some respects. He will, I presume, come closer to jackrabbits than I have been able to in recent years. And, for all his faults, I hereby wish him the happiness I know will be his in my old home.
One last word of farewell, Dear Master and Mistress. Whenever you visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my long happy life with you: 'here lies one who loved us and whom we loved.' No matter how deep my sleep I shall hear you, and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail.
[ 本帖最后由 edith921 于 2009-3-29 17:03 编辑 ] |
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