…but lulled into such an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature; and every strange, half-seen, gliding, beautiful thing that eludes him; every dimly-discovered, uprising fin of some undiscernible form, seems to him the embodiment of those elusive thoughts that only people the soul by continually flitting through it. In this enchanted mood, thy spirit ebbs away to whence it came; becomes diffused through time and space; like Cranmer’s sprinkled Pantheistic ashes, forming at last a part of every shore the round globe over. There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling ship; by her, borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God. But while this sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch; slip your hold at all; and your identity comes back in horror. Over Descartian vortices you hover. And perhaps, at mid-day, in the fairest weather, with one half-throttled shriek you drop through that transparent air into the summer sea, no more to rise for ever. Heed it well, ye Pantheists!
但是这个心不在焉的年轻人，他的思绪合上了波浪的节拍，不知不觉完全进入了一种像抽醉了大烟似的昏沉沉茫茫然一无所知的幻想境界，终于忘了身在何处，把脚底下神秘的海洋当作广蔽人类与自然的深蓝无底的灵魂的视觉形象；而那躲着他的半隐半现、一掠而过的美丽奇特的东西，那看不真切的形体逐渐显露、依稀可见的鳍，在他看来，只是川流不息充塞灵魂的那些无从捉摸的思想的化身。就这般迷迷糊糊地你的生命逐渐向其来源处消逝，扩散到无垠的时空，就像无神论者克兰默的骨灰抛撒空中，最终成为泥土一般。 如今，你的身子已无生命可言，只是随着微微颠簸的海来回摆动而已。而船的颠簸来自大海；大海的起伏则来自上帝莫测高深的潮汐。但是当你如此这般睡去，如此这般入梦时，你的手或脚要是挪动了一点点，要是抓牢什么的双手突然松开，你会吓个半死回到现实中来。你就翱翔在笛卡儿旋风之上了。而也许，某个夏天中午，天气晴朗，你像嗓子眼堵住了似的尖叫一声，从半空中掉进大海，再也没有上来。你们这些泛神论者，可得多加小心啊！（罗山川译本）
摘自《白鲸》CHAPTER 35
