时间总在我不经意的时候从指尖流过。大脑里还沉浸在去年写的计划的时候，2009年的尾巴依然来临。先对照去年写的计划check一下自己完成的程度吧。
1. 好好做完SEI项目。
SEI项目是有好好做，可惜没有做完。由于需求的不断变化，现在依然已经做成了下一个项目，只有对王老师说声sorry了。。。项目管理和敏捷开发方面的欠缺在SEI项目中暴露无遗。
2. 多看看内核，争取做几个patch出来。
这个倒做的还不错，目前被接受的补丁有4个主线内核补丁，5个e2fsprogs主线补丁和3个btrfs-progs补丁。虽然补丁的质量还不高，但是足以拿来丰富我的简历了：）
3. 开始写blog，内容主要是内核Document目录下文档的理解和应用。
这个完成的一般，只写下了两篇（这里和这里)blog。本月初计划的写一个数结构的系列日志的计划，也在小论文的各种打断下搁浅。
4. 及时行乐。不要再为一些无谓的事和家人，和女朋友生气。遇事多想想我还有哪些地方说的或做的不够好。生命短暂，我应该抓紧时间爱他们。
我一直深爱着他们，但我相信我可以做得更好。
5. 坚持锻炼。大学以来身体越来越差，我要坚持打篮球，至少每周两次。
这是完成得最差的一项，仅仅坚持了一个星期。我的执行力简直差得可怜。
6. 当然啦，2009年，暑假要去实习，年内我要找个好工作。
这点算得上2009年最大的收获了。虽然经历的GSoC2009的打击，暑假我还是有幸获得了一份在腾讯北京soso产品中心的实习机会。一个多月的实习时间一点也不长，但是自己却学到了很多东西。工作方面，在各路好心人的帮助下，我有幸得到了淘宝，百度，腾讯和EMC四家公司的青睐。最终选择EMC，终于找到自己的兴趣和工作的结合点，这也不失为人生一大幸事。
在新年的钟声敲响之前，我写下对2010年的自己的期望，希望明年年底再来看这份list的时候，不要像今年这么让自己脸红。
1. 顺利毕业。
2. 仔细看一本项目管理和一本敏捷开发的书，并写下读书笔记。
3. 在一月份补完树结构的blog，在二月份着手btrfs的grub2 patch，从四月开始，业余时间加入到btrfs开发中。
4. 加强执行力，要专注，不折腾。
5. 加强锻炼，上班以后更要注意，可持续的开垦自己的劳动力。
6. 在公司要好好跟身边的牛人们学习，争取在一年的时间内加入他们的行列。
7. 认真对待女朋友和家人，不要再有小孩子脾气。
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Hymn to Intellectual Beauty
by P.B.Shelley
The awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats through unseen among us,-visiting
This various world with as inconstant wing
As summer winds that creep from flower to flower,-
Like moonbeams that behind some piny mountain shower,
It visits with inconstant glance
Each human heart and countenance;
Like hues and harmonies of evening,-
Like clouds in starlight widely spread,-
Like memory of music fled,-
Like aught that for its grace may be
Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.
Spirit of Beauty, that dost consecrate
With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon
Of human thought or form,-where art thou gone?
Why dost thou pass away and leave our state,
This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate?
Ask why the sunlight not for ever
Weaves rainbows o'er yon mountain-river,
Why aught should fail and fade that once is shown,
Why fear and dream and death and birth
Cast on the daylight of this earth
Such gloom,-why man has such a scope
For love and hate, despondency and hope?
No voice from some sublimer world hath ever
To sage or poet these responses given-
Therefore the names of Demon, Ghost, and Heaven,
Remain the records of their vain endeavour,
Frail spells-whose uttered charm might not avail to sever,
From all we hear and all we see,
Doubt, chance, and mutability.
Thy light alone-like mist oe'er the mountains driven,
Or music by the night-wind sent
Through strings of some still instrument,
Or moonlight on a midnight stream,
Gives grace and truth to life's unquiet dream.
Love, Hope, and Self-esteem, like clouds depart
And come, for some uncertain moments lent.
Man were immortal, and omnipotent,
Didst thou, unknown and awful as thou art,
Keep with thy glorious train firm state within his heart.
Thou messgenger of sympathies,
That wax and wane in lovers' eyes-
Thou-that to human thought art nourishment,
Like darkness to a dying flame!
Depart not as thy shadow came,
Depart not-lest the grave should be,
Like life and fear, a dark reality.
While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and sped
Through many a listening chamber, cave and ruin,
And starlight wood, with fearful steps pursuing
Hopes of high talk with the departed dead.
I called on poisonous names with which our youth is fed;
I was not heard-I saw them not-
When musing deeply on the lot
Of life, at that sweet time when winds are wooing
All vital things that wake to bring
News of birds and blossoming,-
Sudden, thy shadow fell on me;
I shrieked, and clasped my hands in ecstasy!
I vowed that I would dedicate my powers
To thee and thine-have I not kept the vow?
With beating heart and streaming eyes, even now
I call the phantoms of a thousand hours
Each from his voiceless grave: they have in visioned bowers
Of studious zeal or love's delight
Outwatched with me the envious night-
They know that never joy illumed my brow
Unlinked with hope that thou wouldst free
This world from its dark slavery,
That thou-O awful Loveliness,
Wouldst give whate'er these words cannot express.
The day becomes more solemn and serene
When noon is past-there is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky,
Which through the summer is not heard or seen,
As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
Thus let thy power, which like the truth
Of nature on my passive youth
Descended, to my onward life supply
Its calm-to one who worships thee,
And every form containing thee,
Whom, Spirit fair, thy spells did bind
To fear himself, and love all human kind.
这首诗是Shelley同Lord Byron在日内瓦湖(Lake Geneva)上泛舟时写出的，是Shelley把湖畔诗人的(Wordsworthian)的自然观结合到自己的作品中的一次重要尝试。
Ode to the West Wind
by P.B.Shelley
O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being—
Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes!—O thou
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow
Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odours plain and hill—
Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere—
Destroyer and Preserver—hear, O hear!
Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's commotion,
Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed,
Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,
Angels of rain and lightning! they are spread
On the blue surface of thine airy surge,
Like the bright hair uplifted from the head
Of some fierce Mænad, ev'n from the dim verge
Of the horizon to the zenith's height—
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge
Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
Vaulted with all thy congregated might
Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst:—O hear!
Thou who didst waken from his summer-dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams,
Beside a pumice isle in Baiæ's bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
Quivering within the wave's intenser day,
All overgrown with azure moss, and flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou
For whose path the Atlantic's level powers
Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
The sapless foliage of the ocean, know
Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear
And tremble and despoil themselves:—O hear!
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share
The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than thou, O uncontrollable!—if even
I were as in my boyhood, and could be
The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven,
As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
Scarce seem'd a vision,—I would ne'er have striven
As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
O lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and bow'd
One too like thee—tameless, and swift, and proud.
Make me thy lyre, ev'n as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like its own!
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies
Will take from both a deep autumnal tone,
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
My spirit! be thou me, impetuous one!
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe,
Like wither'd leaves, to quicken a new birth;
And, by the incantation of this verse,
Scatter, as from an unextinguish'd hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawaken'd earth
The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
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