Time is life

It is most startling to hear a watch or clock clicking away the seconds, each click indicating the shortening of one’s life by a little bit. Likewise, with each page torn off the wall calendar, one’s life is shortened by another day. Time, therefore, is life. Nevertheless, few people treasure their time as much as their life. Time must not be wasted if you want to do your bit in your remaining years or acquire some useful knowledge to improve yourself and help others, so that your life may turn out to be significant and fruitful. All that is foolproof, yet few people really strive to make the best use of their time.

Personally, I am also a fritterer. I don’t play mahjong. I seldom go to the theatre or cinema—I go there maybe only once every few years. I seldom spend long hours watching TV—usually I watch TV for no more than 30 minutes at a sitting. Nor do I go visiting and gossiping from door to door. Some people asked me, “Then what do you do with most of your time?” Introspecting with remorse, I found that apart from the time earmarked from my job and unavoidable social activities, most of my time had been wasted. I should have concentrated my energies on reading whatever books I have not yet read. I should have utilized all my time in writing anything I want to write. But I've failed to do so. Very much of my time has been frittered away aimlessly. As the saying goes, “One who does not work hard in youth will grieve in vain in old age.” Take the translation of Shakespeare for example. I had initially planned to spend 20 years of my spare time in doing the translation, finishing two plays a year. But I spent 30 years instead, due primarily to my slothfulness. The whole project would probably have fallen through had it not been for my fairly long life. After that I had other plans for work, but, because of my approaching senility, somehow I failed to do what I had wished to. Had I spurred myself on in my youth, I would have done more and better work. Alas, it is too late to repent.