I have never been able to come up with a definite
reason, to which I would owe my strong predilection for innocence along with all its goodliness. Sometimes it seems as if my heart is too brimming with that nature to allow for the slightest rigor or reality, which is as nerve-racking
as noise pollution. I even rarely read books of that unfavorite sort. However,
I happen to love things which are melancholy, such as a lonely heart who's
singing a lonely song, and whose eyes are glistening with so soft a tear of
wishes. Anyway, I am never a naive person. I distinguish myself from the naive
in the fact that they are aware of nothing at all about the realistic life, nor
do they take it to heart; while of this life I am never ignorant, at it I am
never resentful, and about it I am never ever helpless. I believe that the
reality has always been something distant from me, because I have always been a
pure-hearted person, who's living his life as a far cry from that of a smooth
character, or even a man of the world.
不知道为什么,我的内心里总是充满一种天真的美好偏好,不喜欢严酷啊现实啊这些伤脑筋的事情,并且这样的书我也少看。但是我却唯独喜欢悲伤地事情。就比如一个孤独的心在唱着孤独的歌,眼睛里闪着愿望的柔光。但我绝对不是一个幼稚的人。我和幼稚的人的区别就是,幼稚的人压根就不知道也不相信现实是什么样子;而我并不对现实无知,并且也不怨恨,更不会对它感到无奈。我觉得现实对于我来说一直都是与我很遥远的事,原因就是我从来都是真诚用事,不诉诸世故伎俩。