我曾對住在森林公園的一對夫妻羨慕不已,因為公園里有大片的杉樹、竹林,有幽靜的林間小道,有鳥語和花香。然而,當這對夫婦知道有人羨慕他們的住所時,卻神情詫異。他們認為這兒沒有多少值得觀光和留戀的景致,遠不如城市豐富有趣。
當時,我的感覺是,熟悉的地方?jīng)]有風景。這對夫婦對這兒太熟悉了,花草樹木,清風明月,在他們漫長的日子里,已不再有風景的含義,而是成為習以為常的東西。
參考譯文
I used to envy a married couple who lived in a forest park, where groves of fir trees and bamboos flourished, with quiet and secluded cobble stone paths meandering through the woods, birds chirping beautifully and flowers permeating fragrance. Yet when they realized that they had unwittingly become an object of admiration owing to the unique location of their house, they were truly perplexed. In their eyes, there was little in the forest which deserved to be seen or made such a fuss about when compared to the fun and abundant life a metropolis can provide!
That experience told me that when one becomes too familiar with something, one stops enjoying it. The couple had long been used to everything within their sight-the trees and the flowers, breezes and the moon-that those were no longer regarded as natural wonders but simply a constituent part of their unvarying life.