一世紀的夢 A Century’s Dream

認清本質，於是不會抱持崇高理想而處處看見不順心的事物而氣惱。

To recognize the essence of things is to stop clinging to lofty ideals—and thus avoid constant frustration when the world fails to align with them.

近年讀了些書，視野廣了點，膽子也大了點，和長輩雜談時還算能表達些許立場。常和長輩聊著聊著就又繞著同樣的議題打轉，因近期剛好有所感，於是就說了「到如今才大夢初醒，這國家早在一世紀前結束了，我們是遺民呀」。長輩笑笑，我再說「這麼想才終於解脫了。」

In recent years, I’ve read a few books. My perspective has widened a little, and I’ve grown bolder. These days, I can more or less articulate my stance when conversing with elders. Often, our chats circle back to familiar topics. Recently, prompted by a passing thought, I said, “Only now have I awakened from a long dream. This nation, in truth, ended a century ago—we’re but remnants.” My elder smiled faintly. I added, “It’s only by thinking this way that I finally feel free.”

雖說是遺民也怪，畢竟從沒有集體認同的一統對象，我們自古有的便是當地的認同感，和一大國無關。但說是遺民我才終於能將有所圖的意識摒除在我身之外，那些爭論原來都只是虛幻的泡沫，只是在魘裡說夢話的人們喋喋不休、不肯睜眼。

It may sound strange to call ourselves “remnants,” for we never truly had a unified object of collective identity. What we’ve always held is a sense of belonging to this local place—never to a grand nation. But in calling myself a remnant, I finally cast off any lingering ambitions for what could be. The endless debates—turns out they were just illusions, frothy bubbles of dreams muttered by those still trapped in a nightmare, refusing to open their eyes.

這塊土地上長不出理想的果實，有的只是順勢而生之民。

This land bears no fruit of ideals. Only people who learn to live by following the currents.