看来我错了，我以为每天写写工作稿件，情思就会被冻结凝固在毫无情调的生活之中，而我也是蓦然间才发现，就像小三儿所言，“原来自己一直还是个TMD文艺青年”，即使更多的时候自己总是在怀疑，一无所有的远方，梦想能否照进现实……

T·E·Lawrence 这个人，若不是那部有名的“Lawrence Of Arabia”，恐怕也没多少人能记得。他的自传《Seven Pillars of Wisdom》(《智慧七柱》), 前面的自序我很喜欢，毕竟很久都没看到自己喜欢的外文诗了

To S.A. （Salim Ahmed）

I loved you, so I drew these tides of men into my hands

and wrote my will across the sky in stars

To earn you Freedom, the seven-pillared worthy house,

that your eyes might be shining for me

When we came.

Death seemed my servant on the road, till we were near

and saw you waiting；

When you smiled, and in sorrowful envy he outran me

and took you apart；

Into his quietness.

Love, the way-weary, groped to your body, our brief wage

ours for the moment

Before earth's soft hand explored your shape,

and the blind worms grew fat upon

Your substance.

Men prayed me that I set our work, the inviolate house,

as a menory of you.

But for fit monument I shattered it, unfinished；

and now

The little things creep out to patch themselves hovels

in the marred shadow

Of your gift