无题

学习英语时候，读到一则小故事，颇有唏嘘之感——

An eagle's egg was placed in the nest of a prairie chicken. The egg hatched and the little eagle grew up, thinking it was a prairie chicken. The eagle did what the prairie chickens did. It scratched in the dirt for seeds. It clucked and cackled. It never flew more than a few feet because that was what the prairie chickens did. One day it was an eagle flying gracefully and majestically in the open sky. It asked the prairie chickens, "What is that beautiful bird?" The chickens replied, "That is an eagle. It is an outstanding bird, but you cannot fly like it because you are just a prairie chicken." So the eagle never gave it a second thought, believing that to be the truth. It lived the life of and died a prairie chicken, depriving itself of its heritage because of its lack of vision. What a waste! It was born to win, but was conditioned to lose.

或许故事很平淡无奇，可是当用另一门语言表现出来的时候，把很多细节再次加工出来的时候，细细品来，还是很唏嘘的。

"It scratch... It clucked and cackled..." 写尽了本是雄鹰之命却行为雏鸡，但身为不知其真相的雏鸡，这又何尝不是其常态呢？意识的不存在在一定期限内就是事实上的不存在吧，就像很多时候，我们以我们之所想为现实一样。

全文，最让我在意的是主人公看到雄鹰时发出的感概："...gracefully and majestically..."。不是漠不关心，不是心存妒忌，而是由衷得赞美和钦羡，内心有着遥不可及的渴望，却因为命运的捉弄，徒有其命却不可知，本来是属于自己的生活，却成为了遥不可及的想象。这就是悲剧的力量。

就像香菱、狼孩、项链。不觉深谙命运无常。