主呵,是时候了。夏天盛极一时。把你的阴影置于日晷上,让风吹过牧场。让枝头最后的果实饱满,再给两天南方的好天气,催它们成熟,把最后的甘甜压进浓酒。谁此时没有房子,就不必建造,谁此时孤独,就永远孤独,就醒来,读书,写长长的信,在林荫路上不停地徘徊,落叶纷飞。(北岛译)想起里尔克的这首《秋日》的时候,我正站在太平角的沙滩上。一边是八大关区域茂密的树林和幽静的林荫道,以及那些带有异国风情而且充满传奇色彩的老建筑,一边是新城区的鳞次栉比的竞相冲破天际线欲与天公试比高的高楼大厦。 Lord, it is time. Summer sunshine moment. Put your shadow on the sundial and let the wind blow over the ranch. Let the last fruit full of branches, give two days of good weather in the South, urging them to mature, the final sweet pressure into strong wine. Whoever does not have a house at this time does not have to be built. At this time, when he is lonely and alone, he wakes up, reads a book and writes long letters. He keeps hovering on the tree-lined road and leaves deciduous. (North Island translation) I think of Rilke’s first “Autumn Day”, I was standing on the beach in Taiping Cape. On the one hand is the lush forests and secluded boulevards of the Badaguan, as well as those exotic and legendary old buildings, side by side in the new city competing to break through the skyline to try high-rise buildings.