A house is built with wood and stone.
A cottage is built with words and silence.
草堂因文字而立，亦因留白而成。
There are books written for readers.
There are books written for builders.
This is the latter.
Building Xinghe Cottage is not a manual on web design. It is not a handbook of typography. Neither is it a technical document.
It is a notebook kept beside the workbench.
Here are recorded the questions, conversations, revisions, and quiet decisions that slowly shaped a place called Xinghe Cottage.
Some pages discuss fonts.
Some discuss margins.
Some simply preserve a thought before it fades away.
Together they tell the story of becoming.
Like the cottage itself, this notebook has no final edition.
It grows only because the cottage continues to grow.
世上有些書，是寫給讀者的。
也有些書，是寫給建造者的。
《草堂手記》屬於後者。
它不是一本網站製作教程。
不是一本排版規範。
更不是一份程式設計文件。
它只是放在書桌旁的一本筆記。
這裡記錄的，是《星河草堂》建立過程中的思考、討論、修改，以及那些看似微小卻改變整體氣質的決定。
有時談的是字體。
有時談的是留白。
有時只是記下一句不願遺忘的話。
它們共同記錄的，不是一個網站，而是一座草堂如何慢慢長成。
因此，《草堂手記》沒有真正的終稿。
它會和草堂一起，慢慢生長。
Let design take one step back,
so that words may walk first.
設計退後一步，
讓文字走在前面。
Before a single page was written, one question appeared again and again.
What kind of place should Xinghe Cottage become?
Not merely what it should look like.
Not how many functions it should contain.
But what kind of silence should a reader feel after arriving.
Many websites begin by asking,
“What can we add?”
Xinghe Cottage began by asking,
“What can we remove?”
That single question quietly shaped almost every decision that followed.
在建立《星河草堂》之前，我們反覆思考的，不是網站應該長成什麼樣子。
而是：
它應該帶給讀者一種什麼樣的感受。
不是功能。
不是動畫。
不是配色。
而是一種閱讀開始之前的安靜。
許多網站首先思考的是：
還可以增加什麼。
而《星河草堂》首先思考的是：
還可以減去什麼。
正是這個問題，慢慢決定了後來幾乎所有設計。
The cottage would not compete for attention.
It would simply offer a place to stay.
Every element must earn its place.
If something does not help reading,
it should quietly step aside.
我們決定：
草堂不追求吸引目光。
它只提供一個可以停留下來閱讀的地方。
每一個元素，都必須有存在的理由。
凡是不幫助閱讀的，
便讓它安靜地退後一步。
Design should never become the loudest voice on the page.
When readers remember the interface more vividly than the writing, something has already gone wrong.
Good design does not ask to be noticed.
It allows words to remain unforgettable.
設計不應成為頁面上最響亮的聲音。
如果讀者記住的是介面，而不是文字，
那麼設計已經走到了文字前面。
真正好的設計，
並不要求被看見。
它只是讓文字，更容易被記住。
The quieter the page,
the farther the words may travel.
頁面愈安靜，
文字便能走得愈遠。
Every house begins long before the first stone is laid.
每一座草堂，
都始於一個還沒有名字的念頭。
Xinghe Cottage did not begin with a domain name.
It did not begin with GitHub.
Nor did it begin with a homepage.
It began with scattered notebooks, unfinished essays, and the quiet wish that these writings might one day find a home.
A place where they could remain unchanged by trends, unhurried by time, and undistracted by noise.
Only much later did that place receive a name.
《星河草堂》的開始，
不是一個網域名稱。
不是 GitHub。
也不是首頁。
它開始於一本本筆記，
一篇篇尚未完成的文章，
以及一個很單純的願望：
希望多年以後，
這些文字仍然能夠安靜地放在一起。
不因潮流而改變，
不因時間而匆忙，
也不因喧囂而失去自己的節奏。
直到後來，
這個地方才慢慢有了自己的名字。
Many websites begin by asking,
“How can people find me?”
Xinghe Cottage began with another question.
“If someone arrives here,
how can they feel at home?”
The difference is small.
The consequences are not.
One seeks attention.
The other prepares a chair.
許多網站首先思考的是：
怎樣讓別人找到我？
《星河草堂》首先思考的是：
如果有人來到這裡，
如何讓他願意坐下來。
兩者看似只有一句話的差別。
卻決定了整個網站後來的樣子。
前者追求被看見。
後者希望有人願意停留。
The cottage would not become a platform.
Nor a personal brand.
Nor a collection of achievements.
It would simply become a place for writing.
If the writing remains,
the cottage remains.
我們決定，
《星河草堂》不做一個平台。
不做個人品牌。
也不做成就展示。
它只是一個放置文字的地方。
只要文字仍在，
草堂便仍在。
A website may be finished.
A cottage is never finished.
網站可以完工。
草堂永遠還在生長。
A cottage is not measured by its walls,
but by the quiet it shelters.
草堂之大，
不在屋宇，而在其中的寧靜。
Every website has a structure.
Some resemble libraries.
Some resemble museums.
Some resemble marketplaces.
Before drawing a single layout, we asked ourselves another question.
What should Xinghe Cottage feel like?
The answer was never “a website.”
It was always “a place.”
A place where one may sit for a while.
A place where time moves a little slower.
A place where reading is not interrupted.
每一個網站，都有自己的樣子。
有的像圖書館。
有的像博物館。
有的像商場。
在設計任何頁面之前，
我們一直反覆思考：
《星河草堂》究竟像什麼？
答案從來不是：
一個網站。
而是一個地方。
一個可以坐下來的地方。
一個時間走得慢一些的地方。
一個閱讀不被打擾的地方。
The Chinese word 草堂 has always fascinated us.
It does not describe wealth.
Nor size.
Nor architecture.
It describes a state of mind.
In Chinese literary tradition, a cottage is often humble in appearance,
yet generous in spirit.
Its value comes not from what it contains,
but from what is written within.
「草堂」兩個字，
一直深深吸引著我們。
它不是富麗堂皇的建築。
不是規模。
不是身份。
而是一種心境。
中國文人筆下的草堂，
往往屋舍簡樸，
卻精神豐盈。
它真正珍貴的，
不是收藏了多少東西，
而是留下了多少文字。
Xinghe Cottage would never become crowded.
Each page should contain only what it truly needs.
Silence is part of the architecture.
White space is part of the structure.
Restraint is part of the design.
因此我們決定，
《星河草堂》不讓任何頁面變得擁擠。
每一個元素，
都應該有存在的理由。
安靜，
也是建築的一部分。
留白，
也是結構的一部分。
克制，
也是設計的一部分。
When a room is filled with furniture,
there is little space left for people.
When a page is filled with decoration,
there is little space left for thought.
The purpose of a cottage is not to impress its visitors.
It is to make them feel welcome.
當房間塞滿家具，
人便沒有地方停留。
當頁面塞滿設計，
思想便沒有地方停留。
草堂存在的目的，
不是令人驚嘆。
而是令人安心。
The purpose of a room
is not to display itself,
but to welcome its guest.
一間屋子的使命，
不是展示自己，
而是迎接來的人。
Topic
Why “Cottage”?
Decision
Keep the Chinese name 星河草堂 without translation.
Use Xinghe Cottage as the English title.
Avoid literal translations such as
Reason
The Chinese name carries cultural meaning that cannot be fully translated.
Keeping “Xinghe” preserves its identity.
“Cottage” conveys simplicity, warmth, and a place for reading, making it a closer companion to the spirit of 草堂 than a literal rendering would.
Conclusion
Translation should preserve character before vocabulary.
Long before there were pages,
there were words.
頁面終將改變，
唯有文字，仍然留下。
A website is often judged by how it looks.
A book is remembered by what it says.
From the beginning, Xinghe Cottage chose the latter.
The page exists because words need a home.
Words do not exist because a page needs to be filled.
That difference quietly shapes everything.
今天的世界，
越來越重視呈現。
一個網站是否成功，
常常先看它是否漂亮。
一本書是否值得留下，
卻從來不是因為封面。
《星河草堂》希望選擇後者。
頁面的存在，
只是因為文字需要一個居所。
文字的存在，
並不是為了填滿頁面。
看似只是順序不同，
卻決定了整個網站後來的一切。
Writing asks for something different from browsing.
Browsing seeks the next page.
Writing invites the reader to remain on the present one.
Modern websites often reward speed.
Literature rewards patience.
Perhaps Xinghe Cottage belongs a little more to books than to the internet.
閱讀文章，
與瀏覽網頁，
原本就是兩件不同的事情。
瀏覽，
總希望下一頁更快出現。
閱讀，
卻希望這一頁可以停留得更久。
網際網路獎勵速度。
文學卻獎勵耐心。
或許，
《星河草堂》本來就更接近一本書，
而不是一個網站。
Every article deserves to stand alone.
Not because it is isolated,
but because every thought has its own rhythm.
Some are quiet.
Some are urgent.
Some remain unfinished.
A cottage should have room for them all.
每一篇文章，
都應該能夠獨立存在。
不是彼此孤立，
而是每一個思想，
都有自己的節奏。
有的平靜。
有的激昂。
有的仍未完成。
草堂，
應該都能容納。
Writing comes first.
Everything else follows.
Images support.
Typography serves.
Layout steps aside.
Technology remains invisible.
因此我們決定：
文字，
永遠排在第一位。
圖片，
只是陪伴。
字體，
只是承載。
版面，
只是秩序。
技術，
最好讓人忘記它的存在。
Readers seldom remember the exact margin of a page.
Few recall the size of a heading.
What remains after many years
is often only a sentence.
Perhaps even only half a sentence.
Design should quietly protect that possibility.
多年以後，
沒有人會記得標題是二十四像素，
還是二十六像素。
也很少有人記得頁邊留了多少空白。
真正留下來的，
往往只有一句話。
甚至，
只有半句話。
如果設計能夠默默守護這半句話，
它便完成了自己的使命。
Pages are built to be seen.
Words are written to be remembered.
頁面讓人看見。
文字讓人記住。
Topic
Why should design remain quiet?
Decision
Avoid visual elements that compete with reading.
Reduce unnecessary colors, animations, icons, and decorative effects whenever possible.
Reason
The more attention design demands,
the less attention words receive.
Good design is remembered only because readers forget it while reading.
Conclusion
The highest compliment to a page is not,
“What a beautiful website.”
It is,
“I forgot I was reading a website.”
Every page begins with a blank sheet.
Every sentence begins with silence.
文字不是從紙上開始，
而是從沉默開始。
Every piece of writing begins long before the first sentence appears.
Sometimes it begins with a memory.
Sometimes with a question.
Sometimes with a journey that refuses to leave the heart.
Writing is not the act of arranging words.
It is the slow process of discovering what we truly wish to say.
每一篇文章，
都不是從第一句開始。
有時，
它開始於一段往事。
有時，
開始於一個問題。
有時，
只是某一次旅行，
一直停留在心裡。
寫作，
並不是把文字排列起來。
它更像是一個漫長的尋找。
尋找自己真正想說的那一句話。
Many words are written to persuade.
Others are written to explain.
Some are written simply because they cannot remain unspoken.
Perhaps the writings in Xinghe Cottage belong mostly to the third kind.
They do not seek agreement.
They seek honesty.
有些文章，
希望說服別人。
有些文章，
希望解釋事情。
還有一些文章，
只是因為它們不能一直留在心裡。
《星河草堂》的文字，
大概更接近第三種。
它們不是希望所有人同意。
只是希望，
能夠忠於自己的思考。
Writing is an act of patience.
A sentence may wait for months.
Sometimes for years.
Not because the writer is slow,
but because truth refuses to hurry.
寫作，
是一件很有耐心的事情。
一句話，
可能等待幾個月。
也可能等待幾年。
不是作者寫得慢。
而是真正重要的話，
從來不願意匆忙。
There is another reason to write.
Memory fades.
Thought changes.
But writing allows a conversation to continue across time.
The person who reads these pages twenty years later
may not be the same person who wrote them.
Writing becomes a bridge
between those two lives.
寫作，
還有另一個原因。
記憶會改變。
思想會成長。
而文字，
讓不同時代的自己，
仍然可以彼此對話。
二十年後，
重新翻開今天的文章，
閱讀的人，
也許已經不是今天的自己。
而文字，
正是連接這兩個自己的橋樑。
We write neither to preserve opinions
nor to collect achievements.
We write to preserve a journey of thought.
Every article marks a place
where the mind once paused,
looked carefully,
and continued forward.
因此，
我們決定，
寫作不是為了保存結論。
也不是為了累積作品。
而是保存思考走過的道路。
每一篇文章，
都是思想曾經停留的一個地方。
Ideas continue to change.
Questions continue to deepen.
Only by recording today’s understanding
can tomorrow’s understanding find its beginning.
Writing is therefore not the end of thinking.
It is where thinking becomes visible.
思想，
仍會改變。
問題，
仍會加深。
只有留下今天的理解，
明天才能知道，
自己走了多遠。
因此，
寫作，
從來不是思考的終點。
它只是讓思考，
第一次被看見。
We do not write because we know.
We write because we continue to seek.
不是因為已經知道，
所以寫下來。
而是因為仍在尋找，
所以沒有停止寫作。
A language is not merely a way of saying things.
It is a way of seeing the world.
語言不只是表達。
它也是觀看世界的方法。
When Xinghe Cottage became a bilingual home,
we faced an unexpected question.
Should English follow Chinese?
Or should it walk beside it?
The answer slowly became clear.
Neither.
Each language should keep its own dignity.
《星河草堂》決定採用中英雙語之後，
第一個遇到的問題，
並不是如何翻譯。
而是：
英文，
究竟應不應該跟著中文走？
我們慢慢發現，
答案是否定的。
它們不是前後。
也不是主次。
而是同行。
Translation is often understood as carrying meaning from one language into another.
Literature asks for something more.
Every language has its own rhythm.
Its own silence.
Its own music.
To preserve only the meaning
while losing the rhythm
is to save the body
but forget the soul.
人們常說，
翻譯，
就是把意思帶到另一種語言裡。
然而，
文學要求的更多。
每一種語言，
都有自己的節奏。
自己的停頓。
自己的音樂。
如果只保留意思，
卻失去了節奏，
便像保留了身體，
卻遺忘了靈魂。
For this reason,
the English pages of Xinghe Cottage are never intended to be translations.
They are new writings
born from the same thought.
Chinese and English stand like two trees
growing from one root.
They are not identical.
Neither should they be.
因此，
《星河草堂》的英文，
從來不是翻譯。
它只是從同一個思想，
重新長出來的另一篇作品。
中文與英文，
更像兩棵樹。
共用同一條根。
卻各自伸向不同的天空。
它們不必相同。
也不應相同。
Sometimes,
English can say less.
Sometimes,
it should say more.
Sometimes,
an image changes.
A rhythm changes.
Even an ending changes.
Faithfulness in literature
does not always mean repeating the same sentence.
Sometimes,
it means preserving the same heartbeat.
有時，
英文可以少說一點。
有時，
反而應該多說一點。
有時，
意象可以改變。
節奏可以改變。
甚至，
結尾也可以改變。
文學真正忠於的，
並不是句子。
而是心境。
Chinese remains Chinese literature.
English becomes English literature.
Neither serves the other.
Both serve the same truth.
因此，
我們決定：
中文，
保持中文自己的文學。
英文，
保持英文自己的文學。
它們彼此尊重。
彼此照映。
共同走向同一個思想。
Literal translation often explains.
Literature illuminates.
The purpose of bilingual writing
is not to repeat.
It is to allow the same light
to enter through another window.
直譯，
往往只是解釋。
文學，
卻是在照亮。
因此，
雙語寫作，
不是把一句話重複兩遍。
而是讓同一道光，
從另一扇窗，
再次照進來。
Do not translate the sentence.
Translate the heartbeat.
不要翻譯句子。
翻譯那顆心。
Topic
Why are the English pages not literal translations?
Decision
Treat every English page as an independent literary work.
Reason
Different languages possess different rhythms, metaphors, and emotional structures.
Faithfulness belongs to the experience,
not merely to the wording.
Conclusion
Two languages.
One soul.
Two works.
One origin.