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It may be strange, but I had once again, I will not say the chance, but the duty of separating from you forced on me. I need hardly remind you that I refer to your conduct to me at Brighton from October l0th to 13th, 1894. Three years ago is a long time for you to go back. But we who live in prison, and in whose lives there is no event but sorrow, have to measure time by throbs of pain, and the record of bitter moments. We have nothing else to think of. Suffering — curious as it may sound to you — is the means by which we exist, because it is the only means by which we become conscious of existing; and the remembrance of suffering in the past is necessary to us as the warrant, the evidence, of our continued identity. Between myself and the memory of joy lies a gulf no less deep than that between myself and joy in its actuality. Had our life together been as the world fancied it to be, one simply of pleasure, profligacy and laughter, I would not be able to recall a single passage in it. It is because it was full of moments and days tragic, bitter, sinister in their warnings, dull or dreadful in their monotonous scenes and unseemly violence, that I can see or hear each separate incident in its detail, can indeed see or hear little else[18a]. So much in this place do men live by pain that my friendship with you, in the way through which I am forced to remember it, appears to me always as a prelude consonant with those varying modes of anguish which each day I have to realise; nay more, to necessitate them even[18b]; as though my life, whatever it had seemed to myself and to others, had all the while been a real Symphony of Sorrow, passing through its rhythmically-linked movements to its certain resolution, with that inevitableness that in Art characterises the treatment of every great theme.
也许说来奇怪，但是要我同你分手的责任，我不说这是机会，再次落在了我身上。该不用提醒了吧，我指的是你在1 8 9 4年10月10日到 13日在布莱顿对我的举止态度。三年了，要你回想可真是个不短的时间。但对我们这些在监牢里度日的人们，生活中不见人间的动静而只有悲哀，只能以肌体跳痛的顿挫、内心悲苦的短长来度量时日。我们没别的好想了。受苦——你听着也许会觉得好奇——就是我们得以存在的手段，因为只有通过它，我们才能有存在的意识；而记住受过的苦对我们是必要的，这是对我们身份继续存在的认可和证明。我与记忆中的欢乐之间，隔着一道深渊，其深不亚于我和现实的欢乐之间隔着的深渊。假如我们在一起的生活真的如世人所想象的那样，纯粹是享乐、挥霍和欢笑，那我就会一丁点也记不起来。正因为那生活时时刻刻都包孕着悲剧、痛苦、恶毒，一幕幕单调地重复着乏味可怕的吵闹和卑劣的暴力，所以那些事一件件一点点都历历如在眼前，切切似在耳边，说实在的别的什么就很少能看得到听得见了[18a]。这里的人们是如此的苦中度日，所以我同你的友谊，照我那样被迫去记住的样子，总显得像是一支序曲，与眼前变换着的痛苦一脉相承。这些痛苦每一天我都得体会领悟；不仅如此，甚至得靠它们度日[18b]；似乎我的生活，不管在我本人还是在别人眼里曾经是什么样子，从来就是一部真正的悲怆交响曲，一个乐章一个乐章有节奏地推向其必然的结局，一切是那样的必然，简直就是艺术上处理每个伟大主题的典型手法。
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