李繩武這段視頻在網上浏覽量達到80320個點擊量時，他伯父李顯龍悼詞視頻的浏覽量只有34906個點擊，父親李顯揚的悼詞視頻只有22310個點擊。網民的浏覽習慣與主流社會有所不同也是原因之一，但是李繩武本身也相當優秀。
他在牛津大學攻讀經濟學碩士學位時，獲得世界最佳辯論員,：“他是第3個獲得最佳辯論員榮銜的新加坡人。他的口才一流，就連父親、星獅集團主席李顯揚也難說贏他，多年前就放棄嘗試與他爭辯。”媒體報道說。
以下爲李繩武悼詞全文：
當我們這些孫子還是小孩子時，爺爺帶我們到總統府散步餵魚，坐在池塘邊，看扔進水裏的面包碎，如鏡水面泛起漣漪。他在草地上騎自行車運動時，喜歡有孫兒陪伴著。
星期天跟爺爺吃午餐是我們家傳統。他的聲音和笑聲會傳到孩子的那一桌，他談論國家大事，憶述與外國領袖們的會面，說的名字我們都聽不懂，也記不了。
新加坡是一個不斷翻新的城市，但我祖父母的家卻維持不變。一樣的白牆、一樣的木制家具、一樣的高窗讓陽光透進屋子裏。連食物也沒變 ，新加坡的菜式，和小販中心美食攤賣的沒差別。爺爺奶奶會帶我們郊遊，到動物園、科學館和國慶慶典。小時候，我認爲他的地位給我們帶來最大的益處是，可以從很棒的角度觀賞璀璨的煙花。
爺爺疼愛孫輩，他熱愛祖父這個角色。每逢農曆新年，他最開心的是看到孫子們齊來向他拜年拿紅包。奶奶在2008年6月第二次中風後，他仍繼續這個傳統，親自爲孫兒們包紅包。
我長大後，有時候會跟爺爺聊起政治和國家大事。他的話總帶有一股信念，和長期深思熟慮的確定感。你們也可以猜想到，我們不是每次都看法一致。在餐桌上，他不曾作投機取巧地爭論，不曾爲了取得策略優勢，而采納他不相信的立場。事實就是事實，我們的理念必須有證據來支持，而不是本末倒置。
在新加坡成長，就是在他的影子下成長；從我們的高樓大廈、學校、高速公路和我們的家園裏，都能看到他獨特視野所産生的力量。
曆史充滿著人類要徹底改造社會的方案。柏拉圖的《理想國》（Republic）、西哀士（Abbe Sieyes）的《第三等級是什麽？》( What Is the Third Estate？) 和《共産黨宣言》（The Communist Manifesto）。成功的方案很少，很多帶來的流血比幸福多。他的方案帶有同情心，甚至是人道的。他的目標是他的人民，你跟我，會認識到和平和富裕。他相信教育、開放的市場，和清廉的政府，能爲新加坡人民變得偉大。
他的方案成功了，這是無可否認的事實。由于成功的速度太快、太徹底，以至于讓我們這一代，對于新加坡建國初期的貧窮和不穩定，感覺幾乎很不真實，就猶如從一場迷糊的夢中醒過來一樣。
他曾是帶領我們走進明天的人。從1959年他上任以來，他爲新加坡的未來而奮鬥。在1959年，一個普通新加坡人與1860年的一名普通美國人一樣窮。今天，新加坡是世界上最發達的國家之一，新加坡的經濟發展在50年內，比美國在150年內所取得的經濟發展的速度還要快。這種發展步伐不太像是經濟發展的進度，更像是穿越時空。
曾有人建議爲他建立一座紀念碑，我的祖父回答說：“要謹記奧西曼達斯（Ozymandias）。” 他指的是雪萊（Shelley）的一首有關埃及帝國的法老的詩篇，詩中提到一名獨行者在沙漠中看到一尊破碎的雕像，上面刻著：“我的名字是奧西曼達斯，王者之王，我，蓋世功業，令強者絕望！”然而，除了廢墟，一切已化爲烏有。
我認爲他的意思是，若新加坡無法生存，立碑于事無補。這個評估是准確的，因爲他留下的並不是冰冷的岩石，而是一個鮮活的國家。我們不會忘記他，就像我們不會忘記蒼天一樣。”
人們常說，我的祖父爲新加坡建立了許多重要的體制，但什麽是體制？它是做事的方法，構建它的人走了，當方法還留存就是體制。一個強大的體制是穩固的，有持續性的。它與個人的人性無關，而是法治淩駕于人治之上。那也是體制建造者要作的犧牲。
建立體制就是要放棄權力，建造一個不會永遠依靠你的系統。這次的葬禮沒有發生混亂或有任何不確定性，顯示他的任務成功了。他的辭世讓我們悲痛，但不會懼怕。因爲他爲體制打下的根基很深。
接下來的任務就落在我們身上。我想，祖父看到我這一代的新加坡人，會感到既擔憂，又抱有希望。我們是和平時代的孩子，對新加坡成爲現代化國家所經曆過的艱辛曆程並不了解。我們視穩定、繁榮和法治爲與生俱來的權利。
我們對新加坡的未來有自己的想法，有些可能顯得太理想化或遙不可及。不過，我祖父50年前，承諾把這個窮鄉僻壤的地方發展爲大都市的看法，在當時來說，也算是令人荒誕不經的。他證明了，以勇氣和清晰的思維，新加坡可以突破種種先天不足，在世界發光。
爺爺，你開始是爲Merdeka，爲自治權而鬥爭。我這個星期發現，獨立這個字“Merdeka”可以追索到古荷蘭詞，意指自由的奴隸。當新加坡與馬來西亞分開後，你收養了一個被遺棄的國家，把我們視爲你的孩子。
爺爺，你選擇舍棄個人的利益，放棄過一個舒適平凡的生活，而讓新加坡人和他們的子孫可以享有更好的生活。如今新加坡安全且繁榮，你的恩惠，我們無以爲報。
爺爺，我們會讓你感到自豪，Majulah Singapura。（前進吧！新加坡！）
Honoured guests, friends, and family.
When the grandchildren were very little, Ye Ye would take us on walks to feed the fishes at the Istana. We would perch on the edge of the pond, the ripples of our breadcrumbs breaking the mirrored surface of the water. He liked to have the grandchildren nearby as he rode his stationery bike on the green grass.
Sunday lunch with Ye Ye was an institution for our family. His voice and his hearty laugh would carry to the childrens’ table, talking about matters of state, recounting meetings with foreign leaders whose names we neither recognized nor remembered.
In a city of continual renewal, my grandparents’ house never changed. Always the same white walls, the same wooden furniture, the same high windows letting in sunlight. The food stayed the same too; Singapore cooking of a kind that would not be out of place at a good stall in a hawker center. Ye Ye and Nai Nai would take us on outings, to the zoo, to the science center, to National Day. I remember that when I was a child, I believed that the chief benefit of his position was that it came with a marvelous view of the fireworks.
Ye Ye loved his role as a doting grandfather. It delighted him, at each Chinese New Year, when the grandchildren would line up to greet him and receive hongbaos. After Nai Nai had her second stroke in June 2008, he continued the tradition, preparing himself the hongbaos for his grandchildren.
As I grew up, sometimes I would talk to Ye Ye about politics and the state. Always he spoke with the courage of his convictions; with a certainty born of long consideration. As you might guess, we didn’t always agree. At the dining table, he never argued opportunistically – he never took a position he didn’t believe for a tactical advantage. The facts were the facts – our beliefs should accord with the evidence, and not the other way around.
To grow up in Singapore is to grow up in his shadow; to see in our skyscrapers, our schools, our highways, and our homes the force of his singular vision.
History is full of plans for the total transformation of society. Plato’s Republic. Abbe Sieyes’ What is the Third Estate? The Communist Manifesto. Few plans succeed, and many cause more bloodshed than happiness. As such plans go, his was compassionate – even humane. His objective was that his fellow citizens, you and I, would know peace and plenty. He believed that education, open markets, and clean government would make the people of Singapore a great people.
That his plan succeeded is beyond dispute. It succeeded so rapidly, so thoroughly, that to my generation of Singaporeans, the poverty and instability of Singapore’s beginning feels almost unreal – like a fever dream chased away by the morning light.
He was our man of tomorrow. From the day he took office in 1959, he fought to bring Singapore into the future. In real terms in 1959, the average Singaporean was as poor as the average American in the year 1860. Today Singapore is one of the most developed countries in the world. The Singapore economy has advanced more in fifty years than the American economy has advanced in one hundred and fifty years. This is a pace of progress that is less like economic development, and more like time travel.
Once, at the suggestion that a monument might be made for him, my grandfather replied, “Remember Ozymandias”. He was, of course, referring to Shelley’s sonnet about Ramses the Second, the greatest Pharaoh of the Egyptian empire. In the poem, a lone traveller encounters a broken statue in the desert. On the statue, the inscription, “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!” Nothing beside remains.
I think his meaning was that, if Singapore does not persist, then a monument will be no help. And if Singapore does persists, then a monument will be unnecessary. And that assessment is accurate: His legacy is not cold stone, but a living nation. We could no more forget him than we could forget the sky.
It is often said that my grandfather built great institutions for Singapore. But what is an institution? It is a way of doing things that outlives the one who builds it. A strong institution is robust, it is persistent. It does not depend precariously on individual personalities. It places the rule of law above the rule of man. And that is the sacrifice of being a builder of institutions. To build institutions is to cede power – is to create a system that will not forever rely on you. That this occasion passes without disorder or uncertainty shows that he succeeded in this task. We are bereft at his passing, but we are not afraid. The pillars that he built stand strong, the foundations that he dug run deep.
The next task falls to us. I think my grandfather always saw my generation of Singaporeans with a mixture of trepidation and hope. We are children of peacetime, unacquainted with the long struggle to make Singapore a modern nation-state. We view stability, prosperity, and the rule of law as our birthrights, for good or ill.
We have our own visions for what Singapore will be. Some of our hopes may seem idealistic or far-fetched. But my grandfather’s vision must have seemed pretty outlandish too, when he stood in an impoverished backwater 50 years ago, and promised that it would become a modern metropolis. He showed us that, he showed us by example that with courage and clear thinking, Singapore can rise above its circumstances and be a light to the world.
Ye Ye, you started by fighting for Merdeka – for our right to rule ourselves. I found out this week that Merdeka has its roots in an old Dutch word, meaning a freed slave. When Singapore was cut adrift from Malaysia, you adopted an orphaned nation and made us all your children.
Ye Ye, you chose to forsake personal gain and the comforts of an ordinary life, so that the people of Singapore could have a better life for themselves, and for their children and for their grandchildren. That Singapore is safe, that Singapore is prosperous, that Singapore is – for this we owe a debt that we cannot repay.
Ye Ye – We will try to make you proud. Majulah Singapura.
李洪義
Some years ago when I was preparing to go to university, Yeye gave me a camera. This was the first and only time he ever gave me a present. Over the next few years I got deeply into photography and took thousands of photos of my time in college. After I graduated I got a book printed with my favourite ones. I presented it to him as a thank you for his gift and hopefully to show him I had done something good with it.
Yeye was more than a grandfather to me. He was an inspiration. As a child, I looked up to him and wanted to grow up to be the kind of man he was. And even now, I still do.
We would have lunch with Yeye and Nainai every Sunday at their house. We always ate simple things: mee rebus, nasi lemak, popiah. He was never one concerned with luxury or lavishness. The idea that he would care about how fancy his food was or what brand his clothes were was ridiculous. His mind was always on more important things. He would have discussions with our parents while my cousins and I would sit by the side and listen. I would always feel a bit silly after listening. He made me realize how petty all my little concerns were and how there were so many bigger problems in the world. He made me want to do something more with my life.
He was not an especially charming man. Yet when he spoke you felt compelled to listen. Because when he spoke you knew he was being straight with you. He was not trying to cajole or flatter. He would be completely frank and honest. After speaking to him in person you knew that his speeches were not puffed up fluff. They were truly his opinions on the matters he cared most about. He would never echo empty slogans or narrow-minded ideologies; it was always thoroughly researched and well-considered perspectives. I had the privilege once of accompanying Yeye to a ceremony in Washington where he was receiving an award. Hearing him speak and watching the entire room listen made me feel so proud. His charisma came not from showmanship but from pure substance.
Yeye understood the limits of his knowledge. He made it a point to try and understand the flaws and risks of his own perspectives better than anyone else. This was especially true when it came to Singapore. He refused to let blind nationalism run this country into the ground. He cared deeply about this country and made sure that he was aware of any weaknesses that could cause us harm. And yet he was very proud of Singapore and confident that we could be better.
Yeye showed me that you could make a difference in this world. Not just that you could make a difference, but that you could do it with your head held high. You didn’t have to lie, cheat, or steal. You didn’t have to charm, flatter, or cajole. You didn’t have to care about frivolous things or play silly games. You could do something good with your life, and the best way to do so was to have good principles and conduct yourself honourably.
People admired Yeye for his brilliant mind. They admired him for his ability to lead and rally us together. They admired him for all of his staggering accomplishments. These are all true. But to me, what made him a great man was the person he chose to be. A man of character, clarity, and conviction. We should remember him less as a man who gave us great gifts, and more as a man who showed us the kind of people we could be.
When Yeye gave me that camera years ago, he wrote me a note. It was a simple note without any flowery language or cheap sentiment. He simply told me that he hoped I made good use of it. I hope I have.
（中文翻譯由網友蘇珊譯校。歡迎更多網友志願者加入。）