Write on His Own Behalf 为自己而写作

         I'm harassed everytime I reviewed my writings. The first few readings are even more than satisfactory, almost perfect; afterwards they generate feelings uneasy in the language sense. They are here and there not right, yet it appears as if they have to be unchangeable, thus I have no help for them. I love and hate — they are given birth by me and they are terrible. I think highly of them when I'm glad; I doubt if I am down when I distaste them. I believe writers write on their own behalf. At least it's a mutual effort, that readers come to the writer while he appeals and conveys. However,does he have to? Will a writer weep if he's right-down on his own behalf, making use of the language in a way that mostly fits his own intention? Will he weep again if thus he's unapproachable, by the common and the ordinary? As one who writes I always like to read, and read with effort; read heart and soul. The most joyful thing is to speculate, or taste, whatever flavor it is while a certain one it should be. Even if a writer makes a mistake, he has a story within. Now that every word is on his behalf, it furnishes the reason why his works are unchangeable. A real mighty writer just stands there, glowing in his own light of wisdom and sentiment, and the rest get to him however they taste----that they get to him is enough already.
           每次我回顾自己写的东西我都会感到烦扰。头几遍读的时候觉得不单是好，几乎就是完美；而随后它们在语感上就会产生不适的感觉。它们四处都不对劲，然而它们又显得是不容改变的，因此我也对它们没辙。我既爱又恨——他们是我亲生的，而它们糟透了。我高兴的时候会对它们评价很高；当我不爽它们的时候，我会怀疑自己是不是心情低落了。我相信作者是为了自己而写作。至少这是一个相互的努力——读者走向作者，而作者吸引与表达。而作者必须如此吗？一个作者是否会哭泣，如果他完全是为了自己，以一种方式来利用语言，使它最大程度的符合他的意图？他是否又会哭泣，如果这样他便会被那些普通大众的人们所难以触及？作为一个写作的人我总是喜欢阅读，并且努力地阅读，全身心地阅读。最愉悦的事情莫过于揣摩，或者品味，不管味道是什么，虽然它只该是某一种。即使一个作者犯了一个错误，这其中也会有他的原委。既然每个字句都是为了他自己，这便解释了为什么他的作品是无可改变的。一个真正了不起的作家只是站在那儿，焕发出他自己的智慧与情感之光，旁人便会向他而去，不管他们品出的是什么味道——他们向他而去，便是足矣。