We work so hard because we are in terror of stillness, because being scared of the world offers the most respectable distraction from a dread of our own minds, because we have no idea how to let anyone know us outside of our achievements, because it seems inconceivable that we have any value beyond what we do, because we were early on in the art of being terrified and we are still too young to question our elders, because we use the noise from without to drown the murmurs from within, because we can't read poetry for we despise anything that doesn't have a charted purpose or goal and that therefore threatens to collide us with the unexpected, because we don't allow ourselves to be acquainted with the night, because if we started with the questions we have no idea where we might have to go and what might need to be discarded, because we are in flight from untenable sadness and regret, because we haven't got too many or even any real friends, because few people ever just held us quietly, because we have no idea what to do with ourselves other than run, because we find peace so much harder than war and because the real work might lie elsewhere.
我們如此努力工作,是因為我們害怕靜止,是因為害怕這個世界能讓我們從對自己的恐懼中分心,因為我們不知道如何讓別人瞭解我們的成就之外的我們,因為我們似乎無法想象我們在我們所做的事情之外還有什麼價值,因為我們很早就學會了害怕的藝術,而我們還太年輕,無法質疑我們的長輩,因為我們用外界的噪音來淹沒內心的雜音,因為我們不會讀詩,因為我們鄙視詩歌、因為我們很早就學會了恐懼的藝術,而我們還太年輕,無法質疑長輩;因為我們用外界的噪音來淹沒內心的雜音;因為我們讀不懂詩歌,因為我們鄙視任何沒有明確目的或目標的東西,是以它們可能