今天烦了一天，晚上什麽也干不下去，楼下楼下地走了一百个来回。最后，从书架上随便抓了一本书，连封面也没看，就往下读。读了好久才发现是在读里尔克。奇怪，平时我读不进他，可今天，只有他让我安静。
《First Poems》
This is my strife:
dedicate to desire
through all days to roam.
Then, strong and wide,
with a thousand root-fibers
deep into life to gripe---
and through pain
far beyond life to ripen,
far beyond time!
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