昨天教了惠特曼的蜘蛛詩，突然之間，五年前仙跡岩的友善蜘蛛回來了。那時節，一群猴子小偷和YV 會在星期三的早晨跑到仙跡岩去耍白目。我們常常看到一種長腳小蜘蛛，長得實在非常Q。每次看牠顫巍巍的在兩片莞芒葉間拉起第一道線，就想幫牠擦汗對牠說：「辛苦了！接下來就容易了。」

自由人很多事的幫這種蜘蛛取名為【友善蜘蛛】，原因大概是「生性自由的、作風自在的、名副其實的」自由人很同情YV那種可憐兮兮、莫名其妙又毫無理性發抖的糗樣。（對！這叫「語言療法」：linguatherapy, 哦！YV亂掰的！）

【友善蜘蛛】對我們是很友善，對飛舞的昆蟲可是非常有謀略的！她會織出孫子兵法的圖案來：完全透明不反光的底網以及中間像花一樣的螺旋「花紋」，非常有3D效果。沈三白早年要是見識過這種蜘蛛，必然一頭栽進神奇陷阱世界，如此一來，〈兒時記趣〉裡就不會有那什麼拔山倒樹而來的”You-Know-What”了。（因為台長對紐約李教授LV保證不在本台提起這種動物，故略隱其名！）

詩中的蜘蛛就是惠特曼的靈魂，拋出第一道金現開始織網是他的靈魂探索廣袤世界的開端，然後‧安‧身‧立‧命。

詩是這樣子的~~~

A noiseless patient spider
By Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/122


A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

YV在教這首詩的時候順便講了一個神話故事，一個美到冒泡泡的故事。
(別偷懶！原故事在下方，看完再走！)

The mortal woman Arachne was truly gifted in the art of weaving. Not
only were her finished products beautiful to look at, but the very
act of her weaving was a sight to behold. The Nymphs of the forest
were said to abandon their frolicking to come observe Arachne practice her magic and they would marvel at her talent.

So remarkable were her works that observers often would compliment
Arachne and they would comment that she must have been trained by
the very patron goddess of weaving, the great Athena herself.
Arachne scoffed at this with great contempt. She was disgusted at
being placed in an inferior place to the goddess and brashly
proclaimed that Athena herself could not do better than her.

Athena heard this and was quite perturbed at Arachne’s bold claim,
but she decided to give the young woman a chance to redeem herself.
Assuming the form of an old woman, she came to Arachne in disguise
and in a friendly way warned her to be careful not to offend the
gods, lest she incur their wrath.

But Arachne told the old woman to save her breath and to be gone.
Her art was far superior to Athena’s, she said impetuously. She
added that she welcomed a weaving contest with Athena, and, if she
lost, would suffer whatever punishment the goddess deemed necessary.

That’s when Athena dropped her disguise and revealed her true
identity. The nymphs and other bystanders who had come to admire
Arachne’s weaving shrunk back in fear and dropped to their knees in
reverence to the Olympian goddess, but Arachne alone was unmoved
and stood her shaky ground. She had made a boastful claim, and she
was sticking to it, regardless of the consequences. That’s how vain
and arrogant Arachne was. It was obvious that she had to be taught a
lesson, and Athena was just the goddess to do so.

With a foolish conceit, Arachne proceeded to the contest, matching
Athena’s weaving stroke for stroke. The contestants took their
station and attached their webs to the beams, the mortal at her
loom, the goddess at hers.

Athena wove on her web the great scene of her contest with Poseidon
over the city of Athens. A beautiful panorama developed from the
threads, showing Poseidon and the salt water spring, and Athena with
an olive tree, gifts to the people who would name Athena as their
patron, and their city after her.

The bystanders marveled at the goddess’ work, at the wondrous speed
and dexterity with which she manipulated the slender shuttle,
passing it in and out among the threads.

Athena made sure to insert in the four corners incidents
illustrating the displeasure of gods at such presumptuous mortals as
had dared to contend with them. She meant these as warnings to Arachne to give up the contest before it was too late.

Arachne, for her part, created a tapestry showcasing scenes of
Zeus’ various infidelities: Leda with the Swan, Europa with the
bull, Danaë and the golden rain shower. So exquisite was the
mortal’s work that the bull seemed lifelike, swimming across the
tapestry with a real girl on his shoulders, the frightened Europa
pulling back her feet from the waves in terror. Even Athena herself
was forced to admit that Arachne’s work was flawless. (Whether or
not Arachne was actually better than Athena is still a mystery - we
will never know...)

Angered at Arachne’s challenge, as well as the presumptuousness of
her choice of subjects, Athena tore the tapestry to shreds and
destroyed the loom. Then she touched Arachne’s forehead, making
sure that she felt full guilt for her actions. Arachne finally
realized her folly and was consumed with shame, but the guilt was
far too deep for her poor, mortal mind. Depressed, she ran off and
hanged herself.

Athena took pity on the hanging Arachne. She was not a mean-spirited
goddess and most likely did not expect that Arachne would commit
suicide. Still, she had to be taught a lesson, so she brought her
back to life, but not as a human. By sprinkling her with the juices
of aconite, Athena transformed the woman into a spider, her and her
descendants destined to forever hang from threads and to endlessly
spin their webs.

That’s how spiders came to be.

From: http://www.thanasis.com/store/arachne.htm
（特別推薦超美超值網站）