在比利时，百年后与荷兰语大师不期而遇
我喜欢旅行，计划有一天能成为职业的旅行者/流浪者。因为，人生就是一次一次地走近，一次一次的离开。
我喜欢旅行，它总是带给我来自不期而遇的惊喜。虽然，我从不随从导游书旅游。因为，我要求自己每到一个地方，一定要很精确地知道我要去哪里看什么？甚至要知道我要看的那一个艺术品在展览馆的具体房间和位置。但是，每一次，在我的安排之外，总是有上天厚赐的邂逅。
法国小说家Marcel Proust说：“旅行不只是发现一道新的风景，而是发现一双新的眼睛“。这次，在比利时，在千年的布鲁日小城，有一双新的眼睛以百年的等待注视着我。
Guido Pieter Theodorus Josephus Gezelle (1 May 1830 – 27 November 1899)，是十九世纪最有有影响力的佛兰芒语(荷兰语)作家，诗人。同时,他也是一位天主教神父，教育家，翻译家。
Guido Gezelle出生在比利时西佛兰德省West Flanders布鲁日一个贫民家庭。他在布鲁日读的中学和神学院。毕业后，在神学院任教。
Guido Gezelle博物馆建在他叔叔的故居里。走进院子，浓郁的绿色，立刻把人拉入另一个生命的世界。
Guido Gezelle终生热爱语言学，他一生用他挚爱的荷兰语写诗歌，散文。并且，也把大量的英文，德文，意大利语诗歌，散文翻译成荷兰语。
在离开博物馆的瞬间，我突然觉得这万里之行的另一个意义就是：一步一步地走到这里，和百年前的一个灵魂在永恒里相遇。进入永恒，也走近自己。
在永恒里，100年如此刻一般活鲜，如现在一样真实。
最后，付两首我喜欢的被翻译成英文的Guido Gazelle的诗，和你一同再次进入诗人的灵魂
Song Of The Hearth
Welcome Winter, how cracks your ice?
Fills your snow the valleys?
I have here spring thaw at the hearth
And no fire to fetch.
Blow you storm, through the firmament?
Wall and roof can bare it.
Pour you dampness down in streams?
My glass shall aside it put.
Shrinks the day? then less necessity
By light to yawn.
Stretches the night? then suits him well
Who together will sleep.
Does the garden no sappy fruit
On my table shine?
Dry fare does just as well digest,
With more ample drink.
Pour then, Winter, with your damp;
Storm and freeze outside;
Drive your light flakes around,
In front of my closed windows;
Give us but half our rations this day,
And one dish less;
High-spirited, with song and wine,
Of no hinder I complain.
The Night And The Rose
I have many an hour with you worn out and enjoyed
and never has an hour with you bored me for a moment.
I have many a flower for you
read and given, and, like a bee, with you, with you,
drank honey from it; but never an hour as sweet with you,
as long as it could last, but never an hour as sad for you,
when I had to leave you, as the hour when I close to you,
that night, sitting down, heard you talking and said to you
that which our souls know. Never a flower as beautiful from you
sought, picked, read, like that night that shimmered on you,
and I could call my own. And just as well, as well for me as you,
-who will cure this evil?- an hour with me, an hour with you,
wasn’t allowed to be an hour for long;
And just as well for me, and just as well for you, so endearing and exalted,
the rose, even if it was a rose from you, wasn’t allowed to be a rose for long,
yet long preserved, this I say to you, even if I’d lose it all,
my heart three treasured images: you, the night and the rose.