远处的呼唤，你听见了么# WaterWorld - 未名水世界
p*n
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It is the greatest gift we inherit from our childhood, with which we
can see life as full of poeticness and be readily fascinated by the world
around us. He who has never lost this gift through his long and trying years
is sure to become a writer or poet.
No matter what happens, I refuse to curse any fanciful illusion I
indulged in as a little boy.
In childhood, whoever did not see himself besieging ancient castles,
fighting for his life on a sinking vessel with its sails torn to shreds in
the Strait of Magellan or near Novaya Zemlya, speeding down the steppes
beyond the Ural Mountains in a cart by the side of Chapayev, seeking the
treasure hidden away by Stevenson on his mysterious island, hearing the
flutter of the flags in the Battle of Borodino, or helping Mowgli in the
tracless jungles of india ?
Mikhail Prishvin, a writer well aware of the high mission of literature
, one who has indeed given his whole life to writing, said:“A writer is
happy to regard himself not as one who stand apart from his fellow-men, but
as one of the same flesh as every person.”
I lived as all people do, working, loving, suffering, hoping, dreaming.
Yet, for all that, at the back of my mind, there was the ever-present
thought that some day, sooner or later, perhaps even in my old age, I would
begin to write---not because it was my ambition to become a writer, but
because my whole being cried out for it and because literature to me was the
most brilliant and wonderful thing in the world.
When winter comes， I'll go up to the Gulf of Finland, where the frost
is quite peculiar, in fact the best-looking in Russia.