泰戈尔
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This work is in public domain according to the Berne convention since January 1st 1992.
A few days ago I said to a distinguished Bengali doctor of medicine, `I know no German, yet if a translation of a German poet had moved me, I would go to the British Museum and find books in English that would tell me something of his life, and of the history of his thought. But though these prose translations from Rabindranath Tagore have stirred my blood as nothing has for years, I shall not know anything of his life, and of the movements of thought that have made them possible, if some Indian traveller will not tell me.' It seemed to him natural that I should be moved, for he said, `I read Rabindranath every day, to read one line of his is to forget all the troubles of the world.' I said, `An Englishman living in London in the reign of Richard the Second had he been shown translations from Petrarch or from Dante, would have found no books to answer his questions, but would have questioned some Florentine banker or Lombard merchant as I question you. For all I know, so abundant and simple is this poetry, the new renaissance has been born in your country and I shall never know of it except by hearsay.' He answered, `We have other poets, but none that are his equal; we call this the epoch of Rabindranath. No poet seems to me as famous in Europe as he is among us. He is as great in music as in poetry, and his sons are sung from the west of India into Burma wherever Bengali is spoken. He was already famous at nineteen when he wrote his first novel; and plays when he was but little older, are still played in Calcutta. I so much admire the completeness of his life; when he was very young he wrote much of natural objects, he would sit all day in his garden; from his twenty-fifth year or so to his thirty-fifth perhaps, when he had a great sorrow, he wrote the most beautiful love poetry in our language'; and then he said with deep emotion, `words can never express what I owed at seventeen to his love poetry. After that his art grew deeper, it became religious and philosophical; all the inspiration of mankind are in his hymns. He is the first among our saints who has not refused to live, but has spoken out of Life itself, and that is why we give him our love.' I may have changed his well-chosen words in my memory but not his thought. `A little while ago he was to read divine service in one of our churches---we of the Brahma Samaj use your word `church' in English---it was the largest in Calcutta and not only was it crowded, but the streets were all but impassable because of the people.'
Other Indians came to see me and their reverence for this man sounded strange in our world, where we hide great and little things under the same veil of obvious comedy and half-serious depreciation. When we were making the cathedrals had we a like reverence for our great men? `Every morning at three---I know, for I have seen it'---one said to me, `he sits immovable in contemplation, and for two hours does not awake from his reverie upon the nature of God. His father, the Maha Rishi, would sometimes sit there all through the next day; once, upon a river, he fell into contemplation because of the beauty of the landscape, and the rowers waited for eight hours before they could continue their journey.' He then told me of Mr. Tagore's family and how for generations great men have come out of its cradles. `Today,' he said, `there are Gogonendranath and Abanindranath Tagore, who are artists; and Dwijendranath, Rabindranath's brother, who is a great philosopher. The squirrels come from the boughs and climb on to his knees and the birds alight upon his hands.' I notice in these men's thought a sense of visible beauty and meaning as though they held that doctrine of Nietzsche that we must not believe in the moral or intellectual beauty which does not sooner or later impress itself upon physical things. I said, `In the East you know how to keep a family illustrious. The other day the curator of a museum pointed out to me a little dark-skinned man who was arranging their Chinese prints and said, ``That is the hereditary connoisseur of the Mikado, he is the fourteenth of his family to hold the post.'' 'He answered, `When Rabindranath was a boy he had all round him in his home literature and music.' I thought of the abundance, of the simplicity of the poems, and said, `In your country is there much propagandist writing, much criticism? We have to do so much, especially in my own country, that our minds gradually cease to be creative, and yet we cannot help it. If our life was not a continual warfare, we would not have taste, we would not know what is good, we would not find hearers and readers. Four-fifths of our energy is spent in the quarrel with bad taste, whether in our own minds or in the minds of others.' `I understand,' he replied, `we too have our propagandist writing. In the villages they recite long mythological poems adapted from the Sanskrit in the Middle Ages, and they often insert passages telling the people that they must do their duties.'
I have carried the manuscript of these translations about with me for days, reading it in railway trains, or on the top of omnibuses and in restaurants, and I have often had to close it lest some stranger would see how much it moved me. These lyrics---which are in the original, my Indians tell me, full of subtlety of rhythm, of untranslatable delicacies of colour, of metrical invention---display in their thought a world I have dreamed of all my live long. The work of a supreme culture, they yet appear as much the growth of the common soil as the grass and the rushes. A tradition, where poetry and religion are the same thing, has passed through the centuries, gathering from learned and unlearned metaphor and emotion, and carried back again to the multitude the thought of the scholar and of the noble. If the civilization of Bengal remains unbroken, if that common mind which---as one divines---runs through all, is not, as with us, broken into a dozen minds that know nothing of each other, something even of what is most subtle in these verses will have come, in a few generations, to the beggar on the roads. When there was but one mind in England, Chaucer wrote his Troilus and Cressida, and thought he had written to be read, or to be read out---for our time was coming on apace---he was sung by minstrels for a while. Rabindranath Tagore, like Chaucer's forerunners, writes music for his words, and one understands at every moment that he is so abundant, so spontaneous, so daring in his passion, so full of surprise, because he is doing something which has never seemed strange, unnatural, or in need of defence. These verses will not lie in little well-printed books upon ladies' tables, who turn the pages with indolent hands that they may sigh over a life without meaning, which is yet all they can know of life, or be carried by students at the university to be laid aside when the work of life begins, but, as the generations pass, travellers will hum them on the highway and men rowing upon the rivers. Lovers, while they await one another, shall find, in murmuring them, this love of God a magic gulf wherein their own more bitter passion may bathe and renew its youth. At every moment the heart of this poet flows outward to these without derogation or condescension, for it has known that they will understand; and it has filled itself with the circumstance of their lives. The traveller in the read-brown clothes that he wears that dust may not show upon him, the girl searching in her bed for the petals fallen from the wreath of her royal lover, the servant or the bride awaiting the master's home-coming in the empty house, are images of the heart turning to God. Flowers and rivers, the blowing of conch shells, the heavy rain of the Indian July, or the moods of that heart in union or in separation; and a man sitting in a boat upon a river playing lute, like one of those figures full of mysterious meaning in a Chinese picture, is God Himself. A whole people, a whole civilization, immeasurably strange to us, seems to have been taken up into this imagination; and yet we are not moved because of its strangeness, but because we have met our own image, as though we had walked in Rossetti's willow wood, or heard, perhaps for the first time in literature, our voice as in a dream.
Since the Renaissance the writing of European saints---however familiar their metaphor and the general structure of their thought---has ceased to hold our attention. We know that we must at last forsake the world, and we are accustomed in moments of weariness or exaltation to consider a voluntary forsaking; but how can we, who have read so much poetry, seen so many paintings, listened to so much music, where the cry of the flesh and the cry of the soul seems one, forsake it harshly and rudely? What have we in common with St. Bernard covering his eyes that they may not dwell upon the beauty of the lakes of Switzerland, or with the violent rhetoric of the Book of Revelations? We would, if we might, find, as in this book, words full of courtesy. `I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you all and take my departure. Here I give back the keys of my door---and I give up all claims to my house. I only ask for last kind words from you. We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.' And it is our own mood, when it is furthest from `a Kempis or John of the Cross, that cries, `And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well.' Yet it is not only in our thoughts of the parting that this book fathoms all. We had not known that we loved God, hardly it may be that we believed in Him; yet looking backward upon our life we discover, in our exploration of the pathways of woods, in our delight in the lonely places of hills, in that mysterious claim that we have made, unavailingly on the woman that we have loved, the emotion that created this insidious sweetness. `Entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd, unknown to me, my king, thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment.' This is no longer the sanctity of the cell and of the scourge; being but a lifting up, as it were, into a greater intensity of the mood of the painter, painting the dust and the sunlight, and we go for a like voice to St. Francis and to William Blake who have seemed so alien in our violent history.
We write long books where no page perhaps has any quality to make writing a pleasure, being confident in some general design, just as we fight and make money and fill our heads with politics---all dull things in the doing---while Mr. Tagore, like the Indian civilization itself, has been content to discover the soul and surrender himself to its spontaneity. He often seems to contrast life with that of those who have loved more after our fashion, and have more seeming weight in the world, and always humbly as though he were only sure his way is best for him: `Men going home glance at me and smile and fill me with shame. I sit like a beggar maid, drawing my skirt over my face, and when they ask me, what it is I want, I drop my eyes and answer them not.' At another time, remembering how his life had once a different shape, he will say, `Many an hour I have spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why this sudden call to what useless inconsequence.' An innocence, a simplicity that one does not find elsewhere in literature makes the birds and the leaves seem as near to him as they are near to children, and the changes of the seasons great events as before our thoughts had arisen between them and us. At times I wonder if he has it from the literature of Bengal or from religion, and at other times, remembering the birds alighting on his brother's hands, I find pleasure in thinking it hereditary, a mystery that was growing through the centuries like the courtesy of a Tristan or a Pelanore. Indeed, when he is speaking of children, so much a part of himself this quality seems, one is not certain that he is not also speaking of the saints, `They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.'
W.B. YEATS September 1912
你已经使我永生，这样做是你的欢乐。这脆薄的杯儿，你不断地把它倒空，又不断地以新生命来充满。
这小小的苇笛，你携带着它逾山越谷，从笛管里吹出永新的音乐。
在你双手的不朽的按抚下，我的小小的心，消融在无边快乐之中，发出不可言说的词调。
你的无穷的赐予只倾入我小小的手里。时代过去了，你还在倾注，而我的手里还有余量待充满。
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.
Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.
当你命令我歌唱的时候，我的心似乎要因着骄傲而炸裂，我仰望着你的脸，眼泪涌上我的眶里。
我生命中一切的凝涩与矛盾融化成一片甜柔的谐音——我的赞颂像一只欢乐的鸟，振翼飞越海洋。
我知道你欢喜我的歌唱。我知道只因为我是个歌者，才能走到你的面前。
我用我的歌曲的远伸的翅梢，触到了你的双脚，那是我从来不敢想望触到的。
在歌唱中的陶醉，我忘了自己，你本是我的主人，我却称你为朋友。
When thou commandest me to sing it seems that my heart would break with pride; and I look to thy face, and tears come to my eyes.
All that is harsh and dissonant in my life melts into one sweet harmony---and my adoration spreads wings like a glad bird on its flight across the sea.
I know thou takest pleasure in my singing. I know that only as a singer I come before thy presence.
I touch by the edge of the far-spreading wing of my song thy feet which I could never aspire to reach.
Drunk with the joy of singing I forget myself and call thee friend who art my lord.
我不知道你怎样地唱，我的主人！我总在惊奇地静听。
你的音乐的光辉照亮了世界。你的音乐的气息透彻诸天。你的音乐的圣泉冲过一切阻挡的岩石，向前奔涌。
我的心渴望和你合唱，而挣扎不出一点声音。我想说话，但是言语不成歌曲，我叫不出来。呵，你使我的心变成了你的音乐的漫天大网中的俘虏，我的主人！
I know not how thou singest, my master! I ever listen in silent amazement.
The light of thy music illumines the world. The life breath of thy music runs from sky to sky. The holy stream of thy music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on.
My heart longs to join in thy song, but vainly struggles for a voice. I would speak, but speech breaks not into song, and I cry out baffled. Ah, thou hast made my heart captive in the endless meshes of thy music, my master!
我生命的生命，我要保持我的躯体永远纯洁，因为我知道你的生命的摩抚，接触着我的四肢。
我要永远从我的思想中屏除虚伪，因为我知道你就是那在我心中燃起理智之火的真理。
我要从我心中驱走一切的丑恶，使我的爱开花，因为我知道你在我的心宫深处安设了座位。
我要努力在我的行为上表现你，因为我知道是你的威力，给我力量来行动。
Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing that thy living touch is upon all my limbs.
I shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts, knowing that thou art that truth which has kindled the light of reason in my mind.
I shall ever try to drive all evils away from my heart and keep my love in flower, knowing that thou hast thy seat in the inmost shrine of my heart.
And it shall be my endeavour to reveal thee in my actions, knowing it is thy power gives me strength to act.
请容我懈怠一会儿，来坐在你的身旁。我手边的工作等一下子再去完成。
不在你的面前，我的心就不知道什么是安逸和休息，我的工作变成了无边的劳役海中的无尽的劳役。
今天，炎暑来到我的窗前，轻嘘微语：群蜂在花树的宫廷中尽情弹唱。
这正是应该静坐的时光，和你相对，在这静寂和无边的闲暇里唱出生命的献歌。
I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.
Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil.
Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove.
Now it is time to sit quite, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of live in this silent and overflowing leisure.
摘下这朵花来，拿了去罢，不要迟延！我怕它会萎谢了，掉在尘土里。
它也许配不上你的花冠，但请你采折它，以你手采折的痛苦来给它光宠。我怕在我警觉之先，日光已逝，供献的时间过了。
虽然它颜色不深，香气很淡，请仍用这花来礼拜，趁着还有时间，就采折罢。
Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not!
I fear lest it droop and drop into the dust.
I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am aware, and the time of offering go by.
Though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint, use this flower in thy service and pluck it while there is time.
7
我的歌曲把她的妆饰卸掉。她没有了衣饰的骄奢。妆饰会成为我们合一之玷：它们会横阻在我们之间，它们丁当的声音会掩没了你的细语。
我的诗人的虚荣心，在你的容光中羞死。呵，诗圣，我已经拜倒在你的脚前。只让我的生命简单正直像一枝苇笛，让你来吹出音乐。
My song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me; their jingling would drown thy whispers.
My poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music.
那穿起王子的衣袍和挂起珠宝项链的孩子，在游戏中他失去了一切的快乐；他的衣服绊着他的步履。
为怕衣饰的破裂和污损，他不敢走进世界，甚至于不敢挪动。
母亲，这是毫无好处的，如你的华美的约束，使人和大地健康的尘土隔断，把人进入日常生活的盛大集会的权利剥夺去了。
The child who is decked with prince's robes and who has jewelled chains round his neck loses all pleasure in his play; his dress hampers him at every step.
In fear that it may be frayed, or stained with dust he keeps himself from the world, and is afraid even to move.
Mother, it is no gain, thy bondage of finery, if it keeps one shut off from the healthful dust of the earth, if it rob one of the right of entrance to the great fair of common human life.
呵，傻子，想把自己背在肩上！呵，乞人，来到你自己门口求乞！
把你的负担卸在那双能担当一切的手中罢，永远不要惋惜地回顾。
你的欲望的气息，会立刻把它接触到的灯火吹灭。它是不圣洁的——不要从它不洁的手中接受礼物。只领受神圣的爱所付予的东西。
O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders! O beggar, to come beg at thy own door!
Leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all, and never look behind in regret.
Thy desire at once puts out the light from the lamp it touches with its breath. It is unholy---take not thy gifts through its unclean hands. Accept only what is offered by sacred love.
这是你的脚凳，你在最贫最贱最失所的人群中歇足。
我想向你鞠躬，我的敬礼不能达到你歇足地方的深处——那最贫最贱最失所的人群中。
你穿着破敝的衣服，在最贫最贱最失所的人群中行走，骄傲永远不能走近这个地方。
你和那最没有朋友的最贫最贱最失所的人们作伴，我的心永远找不到那个地方。
Here is thy footstool and there rest thy feet where live the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.
When I try to bow to thee, my obeisance cannot reach down to the depth where thy feet rest among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.
Pride can never approach to where thou walkest in the clothes of the humble among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.
My heart can never find its way to where thou keepest company with the companionless among the poorest, the lowliest, and the lost.
把礼赞和数珠撇在一边罢！你在门窗紧闭幽暗孤寂的殿角里，向谁礼拜呢？睁开眼你看，上帝不在你的面前！
他是在锄着枯地的农夫那里，在敲石的造路工人那里。太阳下，阴雨里，他和他们同在，衣袍上蒙着尘土。脱掉你的圣袍，甚至像他一样地下到泥土里去罢！
超脱吗？从哪里找超脱呢？我们的主已经高高兴兴地把创造的锁链带起：他和我们大家永远连系在一起。
从静坐里走出来罢，丢开供养的香花！你的衣服污损了又何妨呢？去迎接他，在劳动里，流汗里，和他站在一起罢。
Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!
He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. Put of thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil!
Deliverance? Where is this deliverance to be found? Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all for ever.
Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense! What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained? Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow.
我旅行的时间很长，旅途也是很长的。
天刚破晓，我就驱车起行，穿遍广漠的世界，在许多星球之上，留下辙痕。
离你最近的地方，路途最远，最简单的音调，需要最艰苦的练习。
旅客要在每个生人门口敲叩，才能敲到自己的家门，人要在外面到处漂流，最后才能走到最深的内殿。
我的眼睛向空阔处四望，最后才合上眼说：“你原来在这里！”
这句问话和呼唤“呵，在哪儿呢？”融化在千股的泪泉里，和你保证的回答“我在这里！”的洪流，一同泛滥了全世界。
The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long.
I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet.
It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, and that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune.
The traveller has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.
My eyes strayed far and wide before I shut them and said `Here art thou!'
The question and the cry 'Oh, where?' melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the assurance 'I am!'
我要唱的歌，直到今天还没有唱出。
每天我总在乐器上调理弦索。
时间还没有到来，歌词也未曾填好：只有愿望的痛苦在我心中。
花蕊还未开放；只有风从旁叹息走过。
我没有看见过他的脸，也没有听见过他的声音：我只听见他轻蹑的足音，从我房前路上走过。
悠长的一天消磨在为他在地上铺设座位；但是灯火还未点上，我不能请他进来。
我生活在和他相会的希望中，但这相会的日子还没有来到。
The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.
The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.
The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by.
I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house.
The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house.
I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet.
我的欲望很多，我的哭泣也很可怜，但你永远用坚决的拒绝来拯救我，这刚强的慈悲已经紧密地交织在我的生命里。
你使我一天一天地更配领受你自动的简单伟大的赐予——这天空和光明，这躯体和生命与心灵——把我从极欲的危险中拯救了出来。
有时候我懈怠地捱延，有时候我急忙警觉寻找我的路向；但是你却忍心地躲藏起来。
你不断地拒绝我，从软弱动摇的欲望的危险中拯救了我，使我一天一天地更配得你完全的接纳。
My desires are many and my cry is pitiful, but ever didst thou save me by hard refusals; and this strong mercy has been wrought into my life through and through.
Day by day thou art making me worthy of the simple, great gifts that thou gavest to me unasked---this sky and the light, this body and the life and the mind---saving me from perils of overmuch desire.
There are times when I languidly linger and times when I awaken and hurry in search of my goal; but cruelly thou hidest thyself from before me.
Day by day thou art making me worthy of thy full acceptance by refusing me ever and anon, saving me from perils of weak, uncertain desire.
我来为你唱歌。在你的厅堂中，我坐在屋角。
在你的世界中我无事可做；我无用的生命只能放出无目的的歌声。
在你黑暗的殿中，夜半敲起默祷的钟声的时候，命令我罢，我的主人，来站在你面前歌唱。
当金琴在晨光中调好的时候，宠赐我罢，命令我来到你的面前。
I am here to sing thee songs. In this hall of thine I have a corner seat.
In thy world I have no work to do; my useless life can only break out in tunes without a purpose.
When the hour strikes for thy silent worship at the dark temple of midnight, command me, my master, to stand before thee to sing.
When in the morning air the golden harp is tuned, honour me, commanding my presence.
我接到这世界节日的请柬，我的生命受了祝福。我的眼睛看见了美丽的景象，我的耳朵也听见了醉人的音乐。
在这宴会中，我的任务是奏乐，我也尽力演奏了。
现在，我问，那时间终于来到了吗，我可以进去瞻仰你的容颜，并献上我静默的敬礼吗？
I have had my invitation to this world's festival, and thus my life has been blessed. My eyes have seen and my ears have heard.It was my part at this feast to play upon my instrument, and I have done all I could.
Now, I ask, has the time come at last when I may go in and see thy face and offer thee my silent salutation?
我只在等候着爱，要最终把我交在他手里。这是我迟误的原因，我对这延误负咎。
他们要用法律和规章，来紧紧地约束我；但是我总是躲着他们，因为我只等候着爱，要最终把我交在他手里。
人们责备我，说我不理会人；我也知道他们的责备是有道理的。
市集已过，忙人的工作都已完毕。叫我不应的人都已含怒回去。我只等候着爱，要最终把我交在他手里。
I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands. That is why it is so late and why I have been guilty of such omissions.They come with their laws and their codes to bind me fast; but I evade them ever, for I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands.
People blame me and call me heedless; I doubt not they are right in their blame.
The market day is over and work is all done for the busy. Those who came to call me in vain have gone back in anger. I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands.
云霾堆积，黑暗渐深。呵，爱，你为什么让我独在门外等候？
在中午工作最忙的时候，我和大家在一起，但在这黑暗寂寞的日子，我只企望着你。
若是你不容我见面，若是你完全把我抛弃，真不知将如何度过这悠长的雨天。
我不住地凝望遥远的阴空，我的心和不宁的风一同彷徨悲叹。
Clouds heap upon clouds and it darkens. Ah, love, why dost thou let me wait outside at the door all
alone?
In the busy moments of the noontide work I am with the crowd, but on this dark lonely day it is only for thee that I hope.
If thou showest me not thy face, if thou leavest me wholly aside, I know not how I am to pass these long, rainy hours.
I keep gazing on the far-away gloom of the sky, and my heart wanders wailing with the restless wind.
若是你不说话，我就含忍着，以你的沉默来填满我的心。
我要沉静地等候，像黑夜在星光中无眠，忍耐地低首。
清晨一定会来，黑暗也要消隐，你的声音将划破天空从金泉中下注。
那时你的话语，要在我的每一鸟巢中生翼发声，你的音乐，要在我林丛繁花中盛开怒放。
If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky.
Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.
莲花开放的那天，唉，我不自觉地在心魂飘荡。我的花篮空着，花儿我也没有去理睬。
不时地有一段的幽愁来袭击我，我从梦中惊起，觉得南风里有一阵奇香的芳踪。
这迷茫的温馨，使我想望得心痛，我觉得这仿佛是夏天渴望的气息，寻求圆满。
我那时不晓得它离我是那么近，而且是我的，这完美的温馨，还是在我自己心灵的深处开放。
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.
Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind.
That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to me that is was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.
I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and that this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
我必须撑出我的船去。时光都在岸边捱延消磨了——不堪的我呵！
春天把花开过就告别了。如今落红遍地，我却等待而又留连。
潮声渐喧，河岸的荫滩上黄叶飘落。
你凝望着的是何等的空虚！你不觉得有一阵惊喜和对岸遥远的歌声从天空中一同飘来吗？
I must launch out my boat. The languid hours pass by on the shore---Alas for me!
The spring has done its flowering and taken leave. And now with the burden of faded futile flowers I wait and linger.
The waves have become clamorous, and upon the bank in the shady lane the yellow leaves flutter and fall.
What emptiness do you gaze upon! Do you not feel a thrill passing through the air with the notes of the far-away song floating from the other shore?
在七月淫雨的浓阴中，你用秘密的脚步行走，夜一般的轻悄，躲过一切的守望的人。
今天，清晨闭上眼，不理连连呼喊的狂啸的东风，一张厚厚的纱幕遮住永远清醒的碧空。
林野住了歌声，家家闭户。在这冷寂的街上，你是孤独的行人。呵，我唯一的朋友，我最爱的人，我的家门是开着的——不要梦一般地走过罢。
In the deep shadows of the rainy July, with secret steps, thou walkest, silent as night, eluding all watchers.
Today the morning has closed its eyes, heedless of the insistent calls of the loud east wind, and a thick veil has been drawn over the ever-wakeful blue sky.
The woodlands have hushed their songs, and doors are all shut at every house. Thou art the solitary wayfarer in this deserted street. Oh my only friend, my best beloved, the gates are open in my house---do not pass by like a dream.
在这暴风雨的夜晚你还在外面作爱的旅行吗，我的朋友？天空像失望者在哀号。
我今夜无眠。我不断地开门向黑暗中了望，我的朋友！
我什么都看不见。我不知道你要走哪一条路！
是从墨黑的河岸上，是从远远的愁惨的树林边，是穿过昏暗迂回的曲径，你摸索着来到我这里吗，我的朋友？
Art thou abroad on this stormy night on thy journey of love, my friend? The sky groans like one in despair.
I have no sleep tonight. Ever and again I open my door and look out on the darkness, my friend!
I can see nothing before me. I wonder where lies thy path!
By what dim shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest, through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me, my friend?
假如一天已经过去了，鸟儿也不歌唱，假如风也吹倦了，那就用黑暗的厚幕把我盖上罢，如同你在黄昏时节用睡眠的衾被裹上大地，又轻柔地将睡莲的花瓣合上。
旅客的行程未达，粮袋已空，衣裳破裂污损，而又筋疲力尽，你解除了他的羞涩与困窘，使他的生命像花朵一样在仁慈的夜幕下苏醒。
If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.
From the traveller, whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended, whose garment is torn and dustladen, whose strength is exhausted, remove shame and poverty, and renew his life like a flower under the cover of thy kindly night.
在这困倦的夜里，让我帖服地把自己交给睡眠，把信赖托付给你。
让我不去勉强我的萎靡的精神，来准备一个对你敷衍的礼拜。
是你拉上夜幕盖上白日的倦眼，使这眼神在醒觉的清新喜悦中，更新了起来。
In the night of weariness let me give myself up to sleep without struggle, resting my trust upon thee.
Let me not force my flagging spirit into a poor preparation for thy worship.
It is thou who drawest the veil of night upon the tired eyes of the day to renew its sight in a fresher gladness of awakening.
他来坐在我的身边，而我没有醒起。多么可恨的睡眠，唉，不幸的我呵！
他在静夜中来到；手里拿着琴，我的梦魂和他的音乐起了共鸣。
唉，为什么每夜就这样地虚度了？呵，他的气息接触了我的睡眠，为什么我总看不见他的面？
He came and sat by my side but I woke not. What a cursed sleep it was, O miserable me!
He came when the night was still; he had his harp in his hands, and my dreams became resonant with its melodies.
Alas, why are my nights all thus lost? Ah, why do I ever miss his sight whose breath touches my sleep?
灯火，灯火在哪里呢？用熊熊的渴望之火把它点上罢！
灯在这里，却没有一丝火焰，——这是你的命运吗，我的心呵！你还不如死了好！
悲哀在你门上敲着，她传话说你的主醒着呢，他叫你在夜的黑暗中奔赴爱的约会。
云雾遮满天空，雨也不停地下。我不知道我心里有什么在动荡，——我不懂得它的意义。
一霎的电光，在我的视线上抛下一道更深的黑暗，我的心摸索着寻找那夜的音乐对我呼唤的径路。
灯火，灯火在哪里呢？用熊熊的渴望之火把它点上罢！雷声在响，狂风怒吼着穿过天空。夜像黑岩一般的黑。不要让时间在黑暗中度过罢。用你的生命把爱的灯点上罢。
Light, oh where is the light? Kindle it with the burning fire of desire!
There is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame---is such thy fate, my heart? Ah, death were better by far for thee!
Misery knocks at thy door, and her message is that thy lord is wakeful, and he calls thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night.
The sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless. I know not what this is that stirs in me---I know not its meaning.
A moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight, and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me.
Light, oh where is the light! Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void. The night is black as a black stone. Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.
罗网是坚韧的，但是要撕破它的时候我又心痛。
我只要自由，为希望自由我却觉得羞愧。
我确知那无价之宝是在你那里，而且你是我最好的朋友，但我却舍不得清除我满屋的俗物。
我身上披的是尘灰与死亡之衣；我恨它，却又热爱地把它抱紧。
我的债务很多，我的失败很大，我的耻辱秘密而又深重；但当我来求福的时候，我又战栗，唯恐我的祈求得了允诺。
Obstinate are the trammels, but my heart aches when I try to break them.
Freedom is all I want, but to hope for it I feel ashamed.
I am certain that priceless wealth is in thee, and that thou art my best friend, but I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room.
The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love.
My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.
被我用我的名字囚禁起来的那个人，在监牢中哭泣。我每天不停地筑着围墙；当这道围墙高起接天的时候，我的真我便被高墙的黑影遮断不见了。
我以这道高墙自豪，我用沙土把它抹严，唯恐在这名字上还留着一丝罅隙，我煞费了苦心，我也看不见了真我。
He whom I enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon. I am ever busy building this wall all around; and as this wall goes up into the sky day by day I lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow.
I take pride in this great wall, and I plaster it with dust and sand lest a least hole should be left in this name; and for all the care I take I lose sight of my true being.
我独自去赴幽会。是谁在暗寂中跟着我呢？
我走开躲他，但是我逃不掉。
他昂首阔步，使地上尘土飞扬；我说出的每一个字里，都掺杂着他的喊叫。
他就是我的小我，我的主，他恬不知耻；但和他一同到你门前，我却感到羞愧。
I came out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the silent dark?
I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not.
He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter.
He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to thy door in his company.
“囚人，告诉我，谁把你捆起来的？”
“是我的主人，”囚人说。“我以为我的财富与权力胜过世界上一切的人，我把我的国王的钱财聚敛在自己的宝库里。我昏困不过，睡在我主的床上，一觉醒来，我发现我在自己的宝库里做了囚人。”
“囚人，告诉我，是谁铸的这条坚牢的锁链？”
“是我，”囚人说，“是我自己用心铸造的。我以为我的无敌的权力会征服世界，使我有无碍的自由。我日夜用烈火重锤打造了这条铁链。等到工作完成，铁链坚牢完善，我发现这铁链把我捆住了。”
'Prisoner, tell me, who was it that bound you?'
'It was my master,' said the prisoner. 'I thought I could outdo everybody in the world in wealth and power, and I amassed in my own treasure-house the money due to my king. When sleep overcame me I lay upon the bad that was for my lord, and on waking up I found I was a prisoner in my own treasure-house.'
'Prisoner, tell me, who was it that wrought this unbreakable chain?'
'It was I,' said the prisoner, `who forged this chain very carefully. I thought my invincible power would hold the world captive leaving me in a freedom undisturbed. Thus night and day I worked at the chain with huge fires and cruel hard strokes. When at last the work was done and the links were complete and unbreakable, I found that it held me in its grip.'
尘世上那些爱我的人，用尽方法拉住我。你的爱就不是那样，你的爱比他们的伟大得多，你让我自由。
他们从不敢离开我，恐怕我把他们忘掉。但是你，日子一天一天地过去，你还没有露面。
若是我不在祈祷中呼唤你，若是我不把你放在心上，你爱我的爱情仍在等待着我的爱。
By all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world. But it is otherwise with thy love which is greater than theirs, and thou keepest me free.
Lest I forget them they never venture to leave me alone. But day passes by after day and thou art not seen.
If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart, thy love for me still waits for my love.
白天的时候，他们来到我的房子里说：“我们只占用最小的一间屋子。”
他们说：“我们要帮忙你礼拜你的上帝，而且只谦恭地领受我们应得的一份恩典”；他们就在屋角安静谦柔地坐下。
但是在黑夜里，我发现他们强暴地冲进我的圣堂，贪婪地攫取了神坛上的祭品。
When it was day they came into my house and said, 'We shall only take the smallest room here.'
They said, 'We shall help you in the worship of your God and humbly accept only our own share in his grace'; and then they took their seat in a corner and they sat quiet and meek.
But in the darkness of night I find they break into my sacred shrine, strong and turbulent, and snatch with unholy greed the offerings from God's altar.
只要我一息尚存，我就称你为我的一切。
只要我一诚不灭，我就感觉到你在我的四围，任何事情，我都来请教你，任何时候都把我的爱献上给你。
只要我一息尚存，我就永把你藏匿起来。
只要把我和你的旨意锁在一起的脚镣，还留着一小段，你的意旨就在我的生命中实现——这脚镣就是你的爱。
Let only that little be left of me whereby I may name thee my all.
Let only that little be left of my will whereby I may feel thee on every side, and come to thee in everything, and offer to thee my love every moment.
Let only that little be left of me whereby I may never hide thee.
Let only that little of my fetters be left whereby I am bound with thy will, and thy purpose is carried out in my life---and that is the fetter of thy love.
在那里，心是无畏的，头也抬得高昂；
在那里，知识是自由的；
在那里，世界还没有被狭小的家国的墙隔成片段；
在那里，话是从真理的深处说出；
在那里，不懈的努力向着“完美”伸臂；
在那里，理智的清泉没有沉没在积习的荒漠之中；
在那里，心灵是受你的指引，走向那不断放宽的思想与行为——
进入那自由的天国，我的父呵，让我的国家觉醒起来罢。
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action---
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
这是我对你的祈求，我的主——请你铲除，铲除我心里贫乏的根源。
赐给我力量使我能轻闲地承受欢乐与忧伤。
赐给我力量使我的爱在服务中得到果实。
赐给我力量使我永抛弃穷人也永不向淫威屈膝。
赐给我力量使我的心灵超越于日常琐事之上。
再赐给我力量使我满怀爱意地把我的力量服从你意志的指挥。
This is my prayer to thee, my lord---strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart.
Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows.
Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service.
Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might.
Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles.
And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love.
我以为我的精力已竭，旅程已终——前路已绝，储粮已尽，退隐在静默鸿蒙中的时间已经到来。
但是我发现你的意志在我身上不知有终点。旧的言语刚在舌尖上死去，新的音乐又从心上迸来；旧辙方迷，新的田野又在面前奇妙地展开。
I thought that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power,---that the path before me was closed, that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.
But I find that thy will knows no end in me. And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.
我需要你，只需要你——让我的心不停地重述这句话。日夜引诱我的种种欲念，都是透顶的诈伪与空虚。
就像黑夜隐藏在祈求光明的朦胧里，在我潜意识的深处也响出呼声——我需要你，只需要你。
正如风暴用全力来冲击平静，却寻求终止于平静，我的反抗冲击着你的爱，而它的呼声也还是——我需要你，只需要你。
That I want thee, only thee---let my heart repeat without end. All desires that distract me, day and night, are false and empty to the core.
As the night keeps hidden in its gloom the petition for light, even thus in the depth of my unconsciousness rings the cry---`I want thee, only thee'.
As the storm still seeks its end in peace when it strikes against peace with all its might, even thus my rebellion strikes against thy love and still its cry is---`I want thee, only thee'.
在我的心坚硬焦躁的时候，请洒我以慈霖。
当生命失去恩宠的时候，请赐我以欢歌。
当烦杂的工作在四周喧闹，使我和外界隔绝的时候，我的宁静的主，请带着你的和平与安息来临。
当我乞丐似的心，蹲闭在屋角的时候，我的国王，请你以王者的威仪破户而入。
当欲念以诱惑与尘埃来迷蒙我的心眼的时候，呵，圣者，你是清醒的，请你和你的雷电一同降临。
When the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me with a shower of mercy.
When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song.
When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.
When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner, break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.
When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder.
在我干枯的心上，好多天没有受到雨水的滋润了，我的上帝。天边是可怕的赤裸——没有一片轻云的遮盖，没有一丝远雨的凉意。
如果你愿意，请降下你的死黑的盛怒的风雨，以闪电震慑诸天罢。
但是请你召回，我的主，召回这弥漫沉默的炎热罢，它是沉重尖锐而又残忍，用可怕的绝望焚灼人心。
让慈云低垂下降，像在父亲发怒的时候，母亲的含泪的眼光。
The rain has held back for days and days, my God, in my arid heart. The horizon is fiercely naked---not the thinnest cover of a soft cloud, not the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower.
Send thy angry storm, dark with death, if it is thy wish, and with lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end.
But call back, my lord, call back this pervading silent heat, still and keen and cruel, burning the heart with dire despair.
Let the cloud of grace bend low from above like the tearful look of the mother on the day of the father's wrath.
我的情人，你站在大家背后，藏在何处的阴影中呢？在尘土飞扬的道上，他们把你推开走过、没有理睬你。在乏倦的时间，我摆开礼品来等候你，过路的人把我的香花一朵一朵地拿去，我的花篮几乎空了。
清晨，中午都过去了。暮色中，我倦眼蒙胧。回家的人们瞟着我微笑，使我满心羞惭。我像女丐一般地坐着，拉起裙儿盖上脸，当他们问我要什么的时候，我垂目没有答应。
呵，真的，我怎能告诉他们说我是在等候你，而且你也应许说你一定会来。我又怎能抱愧地说我的妆奁就是贫穷。呵，我在我心的微隐处紧抱着这一段骄荣。
我坐在草地上凝望天空，梦想着你来临时候那忽然炫耀的豪华——万彩交辉，车辇上金旗飞扬，在道旁众目睽睽之下，你从车座下降，把我从尘埃中扶起坐立你的旁边，这褴褛的丐女，含羞带喜，像蔓藤在暴风中颤摇。
但是时间流过了，还听不见你的车辇的轮声。许多仪仗队伍都在光彩喧闹中走过了。你只要静默地站在他们背后吗？我只能哭泣着等待，把我的心折磨在空虚的伫望之中吗？
Where dost thou stand behind them all, my lover, hiding thyself in the shadows? They push thee and pass thee by on the dusty road, taking thee for naught. I wait here weary hours spreading my offerings for thee, while passers-by come and take my flowers, one by one, and my basket is nearly empty.
The morning time is past, and the noon. In the shade of evening my eyes are drowsy with sleep. Men going home glance at me and smile and fill me with shame. I sit like a beggar maid, drawing my skirt over my face, and when they ask me, what it is I want, I drop my eyes and answer them not.
Oh, how, indeed, could I tell them that for thee I wait, and that thou hast promised to come. How could I utter for shame that I keep for my dowry this poverty. Ah, I hug this pride in the secret of my heart.
I sit on the grass and gaze upon the sky and dream of the sudden splendour of thy coming---all the lights ablaze, golden pennons flying over thy car, and they at the roadside standing agape, when they see thee come down from thy seat to raise me from the dust, and set at thy side this ragged beggar girl a-tremble with shame and pride, like a creeper in a summer breeze.
But time glides on and still no sound of the wheels of thy chariot. Many a procession passes by with noise and shouts and glamour of glory. Is it only thou who wouldst stand in the shadow silent and behind them all? And only I who would wait and weep and wear out my heart in vain longing?
在清晓的密语中，我们约定了同去泛舟，世界上没有一个人知道我们这无目的无终止的遨游。
在无边的海洋上，在你静听的微笑中，我的歌唱抑扬成调，像海波一般的自由，不受字句的束缚。
时间还没有到吗？你还有工作要做吗？看罢，暮色已经笼罩海岸，苍茫里海鸟已群飞归巢。
谁知道什么时候可以解开链索，这只船会像落日的余光，消融在黑夜之中呢？
Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat, only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our pilgrimage to no country and to no end.
In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, free as waves, free from all bondage of words.
Is the time not come yet? Are there works still to do? Lo, the evening has come down upon the shore and in the fading light the seabirds come flying to their nests.
Who knows when the chains will be off, and the boat, like the last glimmer of sunset, vanish into the night?
那天我没有准备好来等候你，我的国王，你就像一个素不相识的平凡的人，自动地进到我的心里，在我生命的许多流逝的时光中，盖上了永生的印记。
今天我偶然照见了你的签印，我发现它们和我遗忘了的日常哀乐的回忆，杂乱地散掷在尘埃里。
你不曾鄙夷地避开我童年时代在尘土中的游戏，我在游戏室里所听见的足音，和在群星中的回响是相同的。
The day was when I did not keep myself in readiness for thee; and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd, unknown to me, my king, thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life.
And today when by chance I light upon them and see thy signature, I find they have lain scattered in the dust mixed with the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days forgotten.
Thou didst not turn in contempt from my childish play among dust, and the steps that I heard in my playroom are the same that are echoing from star to star.
阴晴无定，夏至雨来的时节，在路旁等候了望，是我的快乐。
从不可知的天空带信来的使者们，向我致意又向前赶路。我衷心欢畅，吹过的风带着清香。
从早到晚我在门前坐地，我知道我一看见你，那快乐的时光便要突然来到。
这时我自歌自笑。这时空气里也充满着应许的芬芳。
This is my delight, thus to wait and watch at the wayside where shadow chases light and the rain comes in the wake of the summer.
Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies, greet me and speed along the road. My heart is glad within, and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet.
From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door, and I know that of a sudden the happy moment will arrive when I shall see.
In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone. In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise.
你没有听见他静悄的脚步吗？他正在走来，走来，一直不停地走来。
每一个时间，每一个年代，每日每夜，他总在走来，走来，一直不停地走来。
在许多不同的心情里，我唱过许多歌曲，但在这些歌调里，我总在宣告说：“他正在走来，走来，一直不停地走来。”
四月芬芳的晴天里，他从林径中走来，走来，一直不停地走来。
七月阴暗的雨夜中，他坐着隆隆的云辇，前来，前来，一直不停地前来。
愁闷相继之中，是他的脚步踏在我的心上，是他的双脚的黄金般的接触，使我的快乐发出光辉。
Have you not heard his silent steps? He comes, comes, ever comes.
Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes, comes, ever comes.
Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their notes have always proclaimed, `He comes, comes, ever comes.'
In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he comes, comes, ever comes.
In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of clouds he comes, comes, ever comes.
In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine.
我不知道从久远的什么时候，你就一直走近来迎接我。
你的太阳和星辰永不能把你藏起，使我看不见你。
在许多清晨和傍晚，我曾听见你的足音，你的使者曾秘密地到我心里来召唤。
我不知道为什么今天我的生活完全激动了，一种狂欢的感觉穿过了我的心。
这就像结束工作的时间已到，我感觉到在空气中有你光降的微馨。
I know not from what distant time thou art ever coming nearer to meet me.
Thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me for aye.
In many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard and thy messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret.
I know not only why today my life is all astir, and a feeling of tremulous joy is passing through my heart.
It is as if the time were come to wind up my work, and I feel in the air a faint smell of thy sweet presence.
夜已将尽，等他又落了空。我怕在清晨我正在倦睡的时候，他忽然来到我的门前。呵，朋友们，给他开着门罢——不要拦阻他。
若是他的脚步声没有把我惊醒，请不要叫醒我。我不愿意小鸟嘈杂的合唱，和庆祝晨光的狂欢的风声，把我从睡梦中吵醒。即使我的主突然来到我的门前，也让我无扰地睡着。
呵，我的睡眠，宝贵的睡眠，只等着他的摩触来消散。呵，我的合着的眼，只在他微笑的光中才开睫，当他像从洞黑的睡眠里浮现的梦一般地站立在我面前。
让他作为最初的光明和形象，来呈现在我的眼前。让他的眼光成为我觉醒的灵魂最初的欢跃。
让我自我的返回成为向他立地的皈依。
The night is nearly spent waiting for him in vain. I fear lest in the morning he suddenly come to my door when I have fallen asleep wearied out. Oh friends, leave the way open to him---forbid him not.
If the sounds of his steps does not wake me, do not try to rouse me, I pray. I wish not to be called from my sleep by the clamorous choir of birds, by the riot of wind at the festival of morning light. Let me sleep undisturbed even if my lord comes of a sudden to my door.
Ah, my sleep, precious sleep, which only waits for his touch to vanish. Ah, my closed eyes that would open their lids only to the light of his smile when he stands before me like a dream emerging from darkness of sleep.
Let him appear before my sight as the first of all lights and all forms. The first thrill of joy to my awakened soul let it come from his glance. And let my return to myself be immediate return to him.
清晨的静海，漾起鸟语的微波；路旁的繁花，争妍斗艳；在我们匆忙赶路无心理睬的时候，云隙中散射出灿烂的金光。
我们不唱欢歌，也不嬉游；我们也不到村集中去交易；我们一语不发，也不微笑；我们不在路上留连。时间流逝，我们也加速了脚步。
太阳升到中天，鸽子在凉阴中叫唤。枯叶在正午的炎风中飞舞。牧童在榕树下做他的倦梦，我在水边卧下，在草地上展布我困乏的四肢。
我的同伴们嘲笑我；他们抬头疾走；他们不回顾也不休息；他们消失在远远的碧霭之中。他们穿过许多山林，经过生疏遥远的地方。长途上的英雄队伍呵，光荣是属于你们的！讥笑和责备要促我起立，但我却没有反应。我甘心没落在乐受的耻辱的深处——在模糊的快乐阴影之中。
阳光织成的绿荫的幽静，慢慢地笼罩着我的心。我忘记了旅行的目的，我无抵抗地把我的心灵交给阴影与歌曲的迷宫。
最后，我从沉睡中睁开眼，我看见你站在我身旁，我的睡眠沐浴在你的微笑之中。我从前是如何地惧怕，怕这道路的遥远困难，到你面前的努力是多么艰苦呵！
The morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs; and the flowers were all merry by the roadside; and the wealth of gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds while we busily went on our way and paid no heed.
We sang no glad songs nor played; we went not to the village for barter; we spoke not a word nor smiled; we lingered not on the way. We quickened our pave more and more as the time sped by.
The sun rose to the mid sky and doves cooed in the shade. Withered leaves danced and whirled in the hot air of noon. The shepherd boy drowsed and dreamed in the shadow of the banyan tree, and I laid myself down by the water and stretched my tired limbs on the grass.
My companions laughed at me in scorn; they held their heads high and hurried on; they never looked back nor rested; they vanished in the distant blue haze. They crossed many meadows and hills, and passed through strange, far-away countries. All honour to you, heroic host of the interminable path! Mockery and reproach pricked me to rise, but found no response in me. I gave myself up for lost in the depth of a glad humiliation---in the shadow of a dim delight.
The repose of the sun-embroidered green gloom slowly spread over my heart. I forgot for what I had travelled, and I surrendered my mind without struggle to the maze of shadows and songs.
At last, when I woke from my slumber and opened my eyes, I saw thee standing by me, flooding my sleep with thy smile. How I had feared that the path was long and wearisome, and the struggle to reach thee was hard!
你从宝座上下来，站在我草舍门前。
我正在屋角独唱，歌声被你听到了。你下来站在我草舍门前。
在你的广厅里有许多名家，一天到晚都有歌曲在唱。但是这初学的简单的音乐，却得到了你的赏识。一支忧郁的小调，和世界的伟大音乐融合了，你还带了花朵作为奖赏，下了宝座停留在我的草舍门前。
You came down from your throne and stood at my cottage door.
I was singing all alone in a corner, and the melody caught your ear. You came down and stood at my cottage door.
Masters are many in your hall, and songs are sung there at all hours. But the simple carol of this novice struck at your love. One plaintive little strain mingled with the great music of the world, and with a flower for a prize you came down and stopped at my cottage door.
我在村路上沿门求乞，你的金辇像一个华丽的梦从远处出现，我在猜想这位万王之王是谁！
我的希望高升，我觉得我苦难的日子将要告终，我站着等候你自动的施与，等待那散掷在尘埃里的财宝。
车辇在我站立的地方停住了。你看到我，微笑着下车。我觉得我的运气到底来了。忽然你伸出右手来说：“你有什么给我呢？”
呵，这开的是什么样的帝王的玩笑，向一个乞丐伸手求乞！我糊涂了，犹疑地站着，然后从我的口袋里慢慢地拿出一粒最小的玉米献上给你。
但是我一惊不小，当我在晚上把口袋倒在地上的时候，在我乞讨来的粗劣东西之中，我发现了一粒金子。我痛哭了，恨我没有慷慨地将我所有都献给你。
I had gone a-begging from door to door in the village path, when thy golden chariot appeared in the distance like a gorgeous dream and I wondered who was this King of all kings!
My hopes rose high and methought my evil days were at an end, and I stood waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides in the dust.
The chariot stopped where I stood. Thy glance fell on me and thou camest down with a smile. I felt that the luck of my life had come at last. Then of a sudden thou didst hold out thy right hand and say `What hast thou to give to me?'
Ah, what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm to a beggar to beg! I was confused and stood undecided, and then from my wallet I slowly took out the least little grain of corn and gave it to thee.
But how great my surprise when at the day's end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a least little gram of gold among the poor heap. I bitterly wept and wished that I had had the heart to give thee my all.
夜深了。我们一天的工作都已做完。我们以为投宿的客人都已来到，村里家家都已闭户了。只有几个人说，国王是要来的。我们笑了说：“不会的，这是不可能的事！”
仿佛门上有敲叩的声音。我们说那不过是风。我们熄灯就寝。只有几个人说：“这是使者！”我们笑了说：“不是，这一定是风！”
在死沉沉的夜里传来一个声音。朦胧中我们以为是远远的雷响。墙摇地动，我们在睡眠里受了惊扰。只有几个人说：“这是车轮的声音。”我们昏困地嘟哝着说：“不是，这一定是雷响！”
鼓声响起的时候天还没亮。有声音喊着说：“醒来罢！别耽误了！”我们拿手按住心口，吓得发抖。只有几个人说：“看哪，这是国王的旗子！”我们爬起来站着叫：“没有时间再耽误了！”
国王已经来了——但是灯火在哪里呢，花环在哪里呢？给他预备的宝座在哪里呢？呵，丢脸，呵，太丢脸了！客厅在哪里，陈设又在哪里呢？有几个人说了：“叫也无用了！用空手来迎接他罢，带他到你的空房里去罢！”
开起门来，吹起法螺罢！在深夜中国王降临到我黑暗凄凉的房子里了。空中雷声怒吼。黑暗和闪电一同颤抖。拿出你的破席铺在院子里罢。我们的国王在可怖之夜与暴风雨一同突然来到了。
The night darkened. Our day's works had been done. We thought that the last guest had arrived for the night and the doors in the village were all shut. Only some said the king was to come. We laughed and said `No, it cannot be!'
It seemed there were knocks at the door and we said it was nothing but the wind. We put out the lamps and lay down to sleep. Only some said, `It is the messenger!' We laughed and said `No, it must be the wind!'
There came a sound in the dead of the night. We sleepily thought it was the distant thunder. The earth shook, the walls rocked, and it troubled us in our sleep. Only some said it was the sound of wheels. We said in a drowsy murmur, `No, it must be the rumbling of clouds!'
The night was still dark when the drum sounded. The voice came `Wake up! delay not!' We pressed our hands on our hearts and shuddered with fear. Some said, `Lo, there is the king's flag!' We stood up on our feet and cried `There is no time for delay!'
The king has come---but where are lights, where are wreaths? Where is the throne to seat him? Oh, shame! Oh utter shame! Where is the hall, the decorations? Someone has said, `Vain is this cry! Greet him with empty hands, lead him into thy rooms all bare!'
Open the doors, let the conch-shells be sounded! in the depth of the night has come the king of our dark, dreary house. The thunder roars in the sky. The darkness shudders with lightning. Bring out thy tattered piece of mat and spread it in the courtyard. With the storm has come of a sudden our king of the fearful night.
我想我应当向你请求——可是我又不敢——你那挂在颈上的玫瑰花环。这样我等到早上，想在你离开的时候，从你床上找到些碎片。我像乞丐一样破晓就来寻找，只为着一两片散落的花瓣。
呵，我呵，我找到了什么呢？你留下了什么爱的表记呢？那不是花朵，不是香料，也不是一瓶香水。那是你的一把巨剑，火焰般放光，雷霆般沉重。清晨的微光从窗外射到床上。晨鸟叽叽喳喳着问：“女人，你得到了什么呢？”不，这不是花朵，不是香料，也不是一瓶香水——这是你的可畏的宝剑。
我坐着猜想，你这是什么礼物呢。我没有地方去藏放它。我不好意思佩带它；我是这样的柔弱，当我抱它在怀里的时候，它就把我压痛了。但是我要把这光宠铭记在心，你的礼物，这痛苦的负担。
从今起在这世界上我将没有畏惧，在我的一切奋斗中你将得到胜利。你留下死亡和我作伴，我将以我的生命给他加冕。我带着你的宝剑来斩断我的羁勒，在世界上我将没有畏惧。
从今起我要抛弃一切琐碎的装饰。我心灵的主，我不再在一隅等待哭泣，也不再畏怯娇羞。你已把你的宝剑给我佩带。我不再要玩偶的装饰品了！
I thought I should ask of thee---but I dared not---the rose wreath thou hadst on thy neck. Thus I waited for the morning, when thou didst depart, to find a few fragments on the bed. And like a beggar I searched in the dawn only for a stray petal or two.
Ah me, what is it I find? What token left of thy love? It is no flower, no spices, no vase of perfumed water. It is thy mighty sword, flashing as a flame, heavy as a bolt of thunder. The young light of morning comes through the window and spread itself upon thy bed. The morning bird twitters and asks, `Woman, what hast thou got?' No, it is no flower, nor spices, nor vase of perfumed water---it is thy dreadful sword.
I sit and muse in wonder, what gift is this of thine. I can find no place to hide it. I am ashamed to wear it, frail as I am, and it hurts me when press it to my bosom. Yet shall I bear in my heart this honour of the burden of pain, this gift of thine.
From now there shall be no fear left for me in this world, and thou shalt be victorious in all my strife. Thou hast left death for my companion and I shall crown him with my life. Thy sword is with me to cut asunder my bonds, and there shall be no fear left for me in the world.
From now I leave off all petty decorations. Lord of my heart, no more shall there be for me waiting and weeping in corners, no more coyness and sweetness of demeanour. Thou hast given me thy sword for adornment. No more doll's decorations for me!
你的手镯真是美丽，镶着星辰，精巧地嵌着五光十色的珠宝。但是依我看来你的宝剑是更美的，那弯弯的闪光像毗湿奴的神鸟展开的翅翼，完美地平悬在落日怒发的红光里。
它颤抖着像生命受死亡的最后一击时，在痛苦的昏迷中的最后反应；它炫耀着像将烬的世情的纯焰，最后猛烈的一闪。
你的手镯真是美丽，镶着星辰般的珠宝；但是你的宝剑，呵，雷霆的主，是铸得绝顶美丽，看到想到都是可畏的。
Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with stars and
cunningly wrought in myriad-coloured jewels. But more beautiful to me thy sword
with its curve of lightning like the outspread wings of the divine bird of
Vishnu, perfectly poised in the angry red light of the sunset.
It quivers like the one last response of life in ecstasy of pain at the final stroke of death; it shines like the pure flame of being burning up earthly sense with one fierce flash.
Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with starry gems; but thy sword, O lord of thunder, is wrought with uttermost beauty, terrible to behold or think of.
我不向你求什么；我不向你耳中陈述我的名字。当你离开的时候我静默地站着。我独立在树影横斜的井旁，女人们已顶着褐色的瓦罐盛满了水回家了。她们叫我说：“和我们一块来罢，都快到了中午了。”但我仍在慵倦地留连，沉入恍惚的默想之中。
你走来时我没有听到你的足音。你含愁的眼望着我；你低语的时候声音是倦乏的——“呵，我是一个干渴的旅客。”我从幻梦中惊起把我罐里的水倒在你掬着的手掌里。树叶在头上萧萧地响着，杜鹃在幽暗处歌唱，曲径传来胶树的花香。
当你问到我的名字的时候，我羞得悄立无言。真的，我替你作了什么，值得你的忆念？但是我幸能给你饮水止渴的这段回忆，将温馨地贴抱在我的心上。天已不早，鸟儿唱着倦歌，楝树叶子在头上沙沙作响，我坐着反复地想了又想。
I asked nothing from thee; I uttered not my name to thine ear. When thou took'st thy leave I stood silent. I was alone by the well where the shadow of the tree fell aslant, and the women had gone home with their brown earthen pitchers full to the brim. They called me and shouted, `Come with us, the morning is wearing on to noon.' But I languidly lingered awhile lost in the midst of vague musings.
I heard not thy steps as thou camest. Thine eyes were sad when they fell on me; thy voice was tired as thou spokest low---`Ah, I am a thirsty traveller.' I started up from my day-dreams and poured water from my jar on thy joined palms. The leaves rustled overhead; the cuckoo sang from the unseen dark, and perfume of babla flowers came from the bend of the road.
I stood speechless with shame when my name thou didst ask. Indeed, what had I done for thee to keep me in remembrance? But the memory that I could give water to thee to allay thy thirst will cling to my heart and enfold it in sweetness. The morning hour is late, the bird sings in weary notes, neem leaves rustle overhead and I sit and think and think.
乏倦压在你的心上，你眼中尚有睡意。
你没有得到消息说荆棘丛中花朵正在盛开吗？醒来罢，呵，醒来！不要让光阴虚度了！
在石径的尽头，在幽静无人的田野里，我的朋友在独坐着。不要欺骗他罢。醒来，呵，醒来罢！
即使正午的骄阳使天空喘息摇颤——即使灼热的沙地展布开它干渴的巾衣——
在你心的深处难道没有快乐吗？你的每一个足音，不会使道路的琴弦迸出痛苦的柔音吗？
Languor is upon your heart and the slumber is still on your eyes.
Has not the word come to you that the flower is reigning in splendour among thorns? Wake, oh awaken! let not the time pass in vain!
At the end of the stony path, in the country of virgin solitude, my friend is sitting all alone. Deceive him not. Wake, oh awaken!
What if the sky pants and trembles with the heat of the midday sun---what if the burning sand spreads its mantle of thirst---
Is there no joy in the deep of your heart? At every footfall of yours, will not the harp of the road break out in sweet music of pain?
只因你的快乐是这样地充满了我的心。只因你曾这样地俯就我。呵，你这诸天之王，假如没有我，你还爱谁呢？
你使我做了你这一切财富的共享者。在我心里你的欢乐不住地遨游。在我生命中你的意志永远实现。
因此，你这万王之王曾把自己修饰了来赢取我的心。因此你的爱也消融在你情人的爱里，在那里，你又以我俩完全合一的形象显现。
Thus it is that thy joy in me is so full. Thus it is that thou hast come down to me. O thou lord of all heavens, where would be thy love if I were not?
Thou hast taken me as thy partner of all this wealth. In my heart is the endless play of thy delight. In my life thy will is ever taking shape.
And for this, thou who art the King of kings hast decked thyself in beauty to captivate my heart. And for this thy love loses itself in the love of thy lover, and there art thou seen in the perfect union of two.
光明，我的光明，充满世界的光明，吻着眼目的光明，甜沁心腑的光明！
呵，我的宝贝，光明在我生命的一角跳舞；我的宝贝，光明在勾拨我爱的心弦；天开了，大风狂奔，笑声响彻大地。
蝴蝶在光明海上展开翅帆。百合与茉莉在光波的浪花上翻涌。
我的宝贝，光明在每朵云彩上散映成金，它洒下无量的珠宝。
我的宝贝，快乐在树叶间伸展，欢喜无边。天河的堤岸淹没了，欢乐的洪水在四散奔流。
Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light!
Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.
The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.
The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion.
Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure. The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad.
让一切欢乐的歌调都融和在我最后的歌中——那使大地草海欢呼摇动的快乐，那使生和死两个孪生弟兄，在广大的世界上跳舞的快乐，那和暴风雨一同卷来，用笑声震撼惊醒一切的生命的快乐，那含泪默坐在盛开的痛苦的红莲上的快乐，那不知所谓，把一切所有抛掷于尘埃中的快乐。
Let all the strains of joy mingle in my last song---the joy that makes the earth flow over in the riotous excess of the grass, the joy that sets the twin brothers, life and death, dancing over the wide world, the joy that sweeps in with the tempest, shaking and waking all life with laughter, the joy that sits still with its tears on the open red lotus of pain, and the joy that throws everything it has upon the dust, and knows not a word.
是的，我知道，这只是你的爱，呵，我心爱的人——这在树叶上跳舞的金光，这些驶过天空的闲云，这使我头额清爽的吹过的凉风。
清晨的光辉涌进我的眼睛——这是你传给我心的消息。你的脸容下俯，你的眼睛下
望着我的眼睛，我的心接触到了你的双足。
Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love, O beloved of my heart---this golden light that dances upon the leaves, these idle clouds sailing across the sky, this passing breeze leaving its coolness upon my forehead.
The morning light has flooded my eyes---this is thy message to my heart. Thy face is bent from above, thy eyes look down on my eyes, and my heart has touched thy feet.
孩子们在无边的世界的海滨聚会。头上是静止的无垠的天空，不宁的海波奔腾喧闹。在无边的世界的海滨，孩子们欢呼跳跃地聚会着。
他们用沙子盖起房屋，用宝贝壳来游戏。他们把枯叶编成小船，微笑着把它们飘浮在深远的海上。孩子在世界的海滨做着游戏。
他们不会凫水，他们也不会撒网。采珠的人潜水寻珠，商人们奔波航行，孩子们收集了石子却又把它们丢弃了。他们不搜求宝藏，他们也不会撒网。
大海涌起了喧笑，海岸闪烁着苍白的微笑。致人死命的波涛，像一个母亲在摇着婴儿的抓篮一样，对孩子们唱着无意义的谣歌。大海在同孩子们游戏，海岸闪烁着苍白的微笑。
孩子们在无边的世界的海滨聚会。风暴在无路的天空中飘游，船舶在无轨的海上破碎，死亡在猖狂，孩子们却在游戏。在无边的世界的海滨，孩子们盛大地聚会着。
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.
They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. they seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.
The sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships get wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.
这掠过婴儿眼上的睡眠——有谁知道它是从哪里来的吗？是的，有谣传说它住在林荫中，萤火朦胧照着的仙村里，那里挂着两颗甜柔迷人的花蕊。它从那里来吻着婴儿的眼睛。
在婴儿睡梦中唇上闪现的微笑——有谁知道它是从哪里生出来的吗？是的，有谣传说一线新月的微笑，触到了消散的秋云的边缘，微笑就在被朝雾洗净的晨梦中，第一次生出来了——这就是那婴儿睡梦中唇上闪现的微笑。
在婴儿的四肢上，花朵般地喷发的甜柔清新的生气，有谁知道它是在哪里藏了这么许久吗？是的，当母亲还是一个少女，它就在温柔安静的爱的神秘中，充塞在她的心里了——这就是那婴儿四肢上喷发的甜柔新鲜的生气。
The sleep that flits on baby's eyes---does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two timid buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's
eyes.
The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps---does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning---the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps.
The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs---does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love---the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs.
当我送你彩色玩具的时候，我的孩子，我了解为什么云中水上会幻弄出这许多颜色，为什么花朵都用颜色染起——
当我送你彩色玩具的时候，我的孩子。
当我唱歌使你跳舞的时候，我彻底地知道为什么树叶上响出音乐，为什么波浪把它们的合唱送进静听的大地的心头——当我唱歌使你跳舞的时候。
当我把糖果递到你贪婪的手中的时候，我懂得为什么花心里有蜜，为什么水果里隐藏着甜汁——当我把糖果递到你贪婪的手中的时候。
当我吻你的脸使你微笑的时候，我的宝贝，我的确了解晨光从天空流下时，是怎样的高兴，暑天的凉风吹到我身上的是怎样的愉快——当我吻你的脸使你微笑的时候。
When I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints---when I give coloured toys to you, my child.
When I sing to make you dance I truly now why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth---when I sing to make you dance.
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands I know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice---when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.
When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light, and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body---when I kiss you to make you smile.
你使不相识的朋友认识了我。你在别人家里给我准备了座位。你缩短了距离，你把生人变成弟兄。
在我必须离开故居的时候，我心里不安；我忘了是旧人迁入新居，而且你也住在那里。
通过生和死，今生或来世，无论你带领我到哪里，都是你，仍是你，我的无穷生命中的唯一伴侣，永远用欢乐的系练，把我的心和陌生的人联系在一起。
人一认识了你，世上就没有陌生的人，也没有了紧闭的门户。呵，请允许我的祈求，使我在与众生游戏之中，永不失去和你单独接触的福祉。
Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger.
I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forget that there abides the old in the new, and that there also thou abidest.
Through birth and death, in this world or in others, wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, the one companion of my endless life who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar.
When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose the bliss of the touch of the one in the play of many.
在荒凉的河岸上，深草丛中，我问她：“姑娘，你用披纱遮着灯，要到哪里去呢？我的房子黑暗寂寞——把你的灯借给我罢！”她抬起乌黑的眼睛，从暮色中看了我一会。“我到河边来，”她说，“要在太阳西下的时候，把我的灯飘浮到水上去。”我独立在
深草中看着她的灯的微弱的火光，无用地在潮水上飘流。
在薄暮的寂静中，我问她：“你的灯火都已点上了——那么你拿着这灯到哪里去呢？我的房子黑暗寂寞——把你的灯借给我罢。”她抬起乌黑的眼睛望着我的脸，站着沉吟了一会。最后她说：“我来是要把我的灯献给上天。”我站着看她的灯光在天空中无用的燃点着。
在无月的夜半朦胧之中，我问她：“姑娘，你作什么把灯抱在心前呢？我的房子黑暗寂寞——把你的灯借给我罢。”她站住沉思了一会，在黑暗中注视着我的脸。她说：“我是带着我的灯，来参加灯节的。”我站着看着她的灯，无用地消失在众光之中。
On the slope of the desolate river among tall grasses I asked her, 'Maiden, where do you go shading your lamp with your mantle? My house is all dark and lonesome---lend me your light!' she raised her dark eyes for a moment and looked at my face through the dusk. 'I have come to the river,' she said, 'to float my lamp on the stream when the daylight wanes in the west.' I stood alone among tall grasses and watched the timid flame of her lamp uselessly drifting in the tide.
In the silence of gathering night I asked her, `Maiden, your lights are all lit---then where do you go with your lamp? My house is all dark and lonesome---lend me your light.' She raised her dark eyes on my face and stood for a moment doubtful. `I have come,' she said at last, `to dedicate my lamp to the sky.' I stood and watched her light uselessly burning in the void.
In the moonless gloom of midnight I ask her, `Maiden, what is your quest, holding the lamp near your heart? My house is all dark and lonesome---lend me your light.' She stopped for a minute and thought and gazed at my face in the dark. `I have brought my light,' she said, `to join the carnival of lamps.' I stood and watched her little lamp uselessly lost among lights.
我的上帝，从我满溢的生命之杯中，你要饮什么样的圣酒呢？
通过我的眼睛，来观看你自己的创造物，站在我的耳门上，来静听你自己的永恒的谐音，我的诗人，这是你的快乐吗？
你的世界在我的心灵里织上字句，你的快乐又给它们加上音乐。你把自己在梦中交给了我，又通过我来感觉你自己的完满的甜柔。
What divine drink wouldst thou have, my God, from this overflowing cup of my life?
My poet, is it thy delight to see thy creation through my eyes and to stand at the portals of my ears silently to listen to thine own eternal harmony?
Thy world is weaving words in my mind and thy joy is adding music to them. Thou givest thyself to me in love and then feelest thine own entire sweetness in me.
那在神光离合之中，潜藏在我生命深处的她；那在晨光中永远不肯揭开面纱的她，我的上帝，我要用最后的一首歌把她包裹起来，作为我给你的最后的献礼。
无数求爱的话，都已说过，但还没有赢得她的心；劝诱向她伸出渴望的臂，也是枉然。
我把她深藏在心里，到处漫游，我生命的荣枯围绕着她起落。
她统治着我的思想、行动和睡梦，她却自己独居索处。
许多的人叩我的门来访问她，都失望地回去。
在这世界上从没有人和她面对过，她孤守着静待你的赏识。
She who ever had remained in the depth of my being, in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses; she who never opened her veils in the morning light, will be my last gift to thee, my God, folded in my final song.
Words have wooed yet failed to win her; persuasion has stretched to her its eager arms in vain.
I have roamed from country to country keeping her in the core of my heart, and around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life.
Over my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams, she reigned yet dwelled alone and apart.
many a man knocked at my door and asked for her and turned away in despair.
There was none in the world who ever saw her face to face, and she remained in her loneliness waiting for thy recognition.
你是天空，你也是窝巢。
呵，美丽的你，在窝巢里就是你的爱，用颜色、声音和香气来围拥住灵魂。
在那里，清晨来了，右手提着金筐，带着美的花环，静静地替大地加冕。
在那里，黄昏来了，越过无人畜牧的荒林，穿过车马绝迹的小径，在她的金瓶里带着安靖的西方海上和平的凉飙。
但是在那里，纯白的光辉，统治着伸展着的为灵魂翱翔的无际的天空。在那里无昼无夜，无形无色，而且永远，永远无有言说。
Thou art the sky and thou art the nest as well.
O thou beautiful, there in the nest is thy love that encloses the soul with colours and sounds and odours.
There comes the morning with the golden basket in her right hand bearing the wreath of beauty, silently to crown the earth.
And there comes the evening over the lonely meadows deserted by herds, through trackless paths, carrying cool draughts of peace in her golden pitcher from the western ocean of rest.
But there, where spreads the infinite sky for the soul to take her flight in, reigns the stainless white radiance. There is no day nor night, nor form nor colour, and never, never a word.
你的阳光射到我的地上，整天地伸臂站在我门前，把我的眼泪，叹息和歌曲变成的云彩，带回放在你的足边。
你喜爱地将这云带缠围在你的星胸之上，绕成无数的形式和褶纹，还染上变幻无穷的色彩。
它是那样的轻柔，那样的飘扬、温软、含泪而黯淡，因此你就爱惜它，呵，你这庄严无瑕者。这就是为什么它能够以它可怜的阴影遮掩你的可畏的白光。
Thy sunbeam comes upon this earth of mine with arms outstretched and stands at my door the livelong day to carry back to thy feet clouds made of my tears and sighs and songs.
With fond delight thou wrappest about thy starry breast that mantle of misty cloud, turning it into numberless shapes and folds and colouring it with hues everchanging.
It is so light and so fleeting, tender and tearful and dark, that is why thou lovest it, O thou spotless and serene. And that is why it may cover thy awful white light with its pathetic shadows.
就是这股生命的泉水，日夜流穿我的血管，也流穿过世界，又应节地跳舞。
就是这同一的生命，从大地的尘土里快乐地伸放出无数片的芳草，迸发出繁花密叶的波纹。
就是这同一的生命，在潮汐里摇动着生和死的大海的摇篮。
我觉得我的四肢因受着生命世界的爱抚而光荣。我的骄傲，是因为时代的脉搏，此刻在我血液中跳动。
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
这欢欣的音律不能使你欢欣吗？不能使你回旋激荡，消失碎裂在这可怖的快乐旋转之中吗？
万物急剧地前奔，它们不停留也不回顾，任何力量都不能挽住它们，它们急遽地前奔。
季候应和着这急速不宁的音乐，跳舞着来了又去——颜色、声音、香味在这充溢的快乐里，汇注成奔流无尽的瀑泉，时时刻刻地在散溅、退落而死亡。
Is it beyond thee to be glad with the gladness of this rhythm? to be tossed and lost and broken in the whirl of this fearful joy?
All things rush on, they stop not, they look not behind, no power can hold them back, they rush on.
Keeping steps with that restless, rapid music, seasons come dancing and pass away---colours, tunes, and perfumes pour in endless cascades in the abounding joy that scatters and gives up and dies every moment.
我应当自己发扬光大、四周放射、投映彩影于你的光辉之中——这便是你的幻境。
你在你自身里立起隔栏，用无数不同的音调来呼唤你的分身。你这分身已在我体内成形。
高亢的歌声响彻诸天，在多彩的眼泪与微笑，震惊与希望中回应着；波起复落，梦破又圆。在我里面是你自身的破灭。
你卷起的那重帘幕，是用书和夜的画笔，绘出了无数的花样。幕后的你的座位，是用奇妙神秘的曲线织成。抛弃了一切无聊的笔直的线条。
你我组成的伟丽的行列，布满了天空。因着你我的歌音，太空都在震颤，一切时代
都在你我捉迷藏中度过了。
That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides, thus casting coloured shadows on thy radiance---such is thy maya.
Thou settest a barrier in thine own being and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes. This thy self-separation has taken body in me.
The poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloured tears and smiles, alarms and hopes; waves rise up and sink again, dreams break and form. In me is thy own defeat of self.
This screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures with the brush of the night and the day. Behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves, casting away all barren lines of straightness.
The great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky. With the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant, and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me.
就是他，那最深奥的，用他深隐的摩触使我清醒。
就是他把神符放在我的眼上，又快乐地在我心弦上弹弄出种种哀乐的调子。
就是他用金、银、青、绿的灵幻的色丝，织起幻境的披纱，他的脚趾从衣褶中外露。在他的摩触之下，我忘却了自己。
日来年往，就是他永远以种种名字，种种姿态，种种的深悲和极乐，来打动我的心。
He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches.
He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.
He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.
Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow.
在断念屏欲之中，我不需要拯救。在万千欢愉的约束里我感到了自由的拥抱。
你不断地在我的瓦罐里满满地斟上不同颜色不同芬芳的新酒。
我的世界，将以你的火焰点上他的万盏不同的明灯，安放在你庙宇的坛前。
不，我永不会关上我感觉的门户。视、听、触的快乐会含带着你的快乐。
是的，我的一切幻想会燃烧成快乐的光明，我的一切愿望将结成爱的果实。
Deliverance is not for me in renunciation. I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight.
Thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim.
My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place them before the altar of thy temple.
No, I will never shut the doors of my senses. The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight.
Yes, all my illusions will burn into illumination of joy, and all my desires ripen into fruits of love.
白日已过，暗影笼罩大地。是我到河边汲水的时候了。
晚空凭看水的凄音流露着切望。呵，它呼唤我出到暮色中来。荒径上断绝人行，风起了，波浪在河里翻腾。
我不知道是否应该回家去。我不知道我会遇见什么人。浅滩的小舟上有个不相识的人正弹着琵琶。
The day is no more, the shadow is upon the earth. It is time that I go to the stream to fill my pitcher.
The evening air is eager with the sad music of the water. Ah, it calls me out into the dusk. In the lonely lane there is no passer-by, the wind is up, the ripples are rampant in the river.
I know not if I shall come back home. I know not whom I shall chance to meet. There at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute.
你赐给我们世人的礼物，满足了我们一切的需要，可是它们又毫未减少地返回到你那里。
河水有它每天的工作，匆忙地穿过田野和村庄；但它的不绝的水流，又曲折地回来洗你的双脚。
花朵以芬芳熏香了空气；但它最终的任务，是把自己献上给你。
对你供献不会使世界困穷。
人们从诗人的字句里，选取自己心爱的意义：但是诗句的最终意义是指向着你。
Thy gifts to us mortals fulfil all our needs and yet run back to thee undiminished.
The river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets; yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of thy feet.
The flower sweetens the air with its perfume; yet its last service is to offer itself to thee.
Thy worship does not impoverish the world.
From the words of the poet men take what meanings please them; yet their last meaning points to thee.
过了一天又是一天，呵，我生命的主，我能够和你对面站立吗？呵，全世界的主，我能合掌和你对面站立吗？
在广阔的天空下，严静之中，我能够带着虔恭的心，和你对面站立吗？
在你的劳碌的世界里，喧腾着劳作和奋斗，在营营扰扰的人群中，我能和你对面站立吗？
当我已做完了今生的工作，呵，万王之王，我能够独自悄立在你的面前吗？
Day after day, O lord of my life, shall I stand before thee face to face. With folded hands, O lord of all worlds, shall I stand before thee face to face.
Under thy great sky in solitude and silence, with humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face.
In this laborious world of thine, tumultuous with toil and with struggle, among hurrying crowds shall I stand before thee face to face.
And when my work shall be done in this world, O King of kings, alone and speechless shall I stand before thee face to face.
我知道你是我的上帝，却远立在一边——我不知道你是属于我的，就走近你。我知道你是我的父亲，就在你脚前俯伏——我没有像和朋友握手那样地紧握你的手。
我没有在你降临的地方，站立等候，把你抱在胸前，当你做同道，把你占有。
你是我弟兄的弟兄，但是我不理他们，不把我赚得的和他们平分，我以为这样做，才能和你分享我的一切。
在快乐和苦痛里，我都没有站在人类的一边，我以为这样做，才能和你站在一起。
我畏缩着不肯舍生，因此我没有跳入生命的伟大的海洋里。
I know thee as my God and stand apart---I do not know thee as my own and come closer. I know thee as my father and bow before thy feet---I do not grasp thy hand as my friend's.
I stand not where thou comest down and ownest thyself as mine, there to clasp thee to my heart and take thee as my comrade.
Thou art the Brother amongst my brothers, but I heed them not, I divide not my earnings with them, thus sharing my all with thee.
In pleasure and in pain I stand not by the side of men, and thus stand by thee. I shrink to give up my life, and thus do not plunge into the great waters of life.
当鸿蒙初辟，繁星第一次射出灿烂的光辉，众神在天上集会，唱着“呵，完美的画图，完全的快乐！”
有一位神忽然叫起来了——“光链里仿佛断了一环，一颗星星走失了。”
他们金琴的弦子猛然折断了，他们的歌声停止了，他们惊惶地叫着——“对了，那颗走失的星星是最美的，她是诸天的光荣！”
从那天起，他们不住地寻找她，众口相传地说，因为她丢了，世界失去了一种快乐。
只在严静的夜里，众星微笑着互相低语说——“寻找是无用的，无缺的完美正笼盖着一切！”
When the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first splendour, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang `Oh, the picture of perfection! the joy unalloyed!'
But one cried of a sudden---`It seems that somewhere there is a break in the chain of light and one of the stars has been lost.'
The golden string of their harp snapped, their song stopped, and they cried in dismay---`Yes, that lost star was the best, she was the glory of all heavens!'
From that day the search is unceasing for her, and the cry goes on from one to the other that in her the world has lost its one joy!
Only in the deepest silence of night the stars smile and whisper among themselves---`Vain is this seeking! unbroken perfection is over all!'
假如我今生无份遇到你，就让我永远感到恨不相逢——让我念念不忘，让我在醒时梦中都怀带着这悲哀的苦痛。
当我的日子在世界的闹市中度过，我的双手满捧着每日的赢利的时候，让我永远觉得我是一无所获——让我念念不忘，让我在醒时梦中都带着这悲哀的苦痛。
当我坐在路边，疲乏喘息，当我在尘土中铺设卧具，让我永远记着前面还有悠悠的长路——让我念念不忘，让我在醒时梦中都怀带着悲哀的苦痛。
当我的屋子装饰好了，箫笛吹起，欢笑声喧的时候，让我永远觉得我还没有请你光临——让我念念不忘，让我在醒时梦中都怀带着这悲哀的苦痛。
If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight---let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.
As my days pass in the crowded market of this world and my hands grow full with the daily profits, let me ever feel that I have gained nothing---let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.
When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting, when I spread my bed low in the dust, let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me---let me not forget a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.
When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound and the laughter there is loud, let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house---let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.
我像一片秋天的残云，无主地在空中飘荡，呵，我的永远光耀的太阳！你的摩触远没有蒸化了我的水气，使我与你的光明合一，因此我计算着和你分离的悠长的年月。
假如这是你的愿望，假如这是你的游戏，就请把我这流逝的空虚染上颜色，镀上金辉，让它在狂风中飘浮，舒卷成种种的奇观。
而且假如你愿意在夜晚结束了这场游戏，我就在黑暗中，或在灿白晨光的微笑中，在净化的清凉中，溶化消失。
I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn uselessly roaming in the sky, O my sun ever-glorious! Thy touch has not yet melted my vapour, making me one with thy light, and thus I count months and years separated from thee.
If this be thy wish and if this be thy play, then take this fleeting emptiness of mine, paint it with colours, gild it with gold, float it on the wanton wind and spread it in varied wonders.
And again when it shall be thy wish to end this play at night, I shall melt and vanish away in the dark, or it may be in a smile of the white morning, in a coolness of purity transparent.
在许多闲散的日子，我悼惜着虚度了的光阴。但是光阴并没有虚度，我的主。你掌握了我生命里寸寸的光阴。
你潜藏在万物的心里，培育着种子发芽，蓓蕾绽红，花落结实。
我困乏了，在闲榻上睡眠，想象一切工作都已停歇。早晨醒来，我发现我的园里，却开遍了异蕊奇花。
On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But it is never lost, my lord. Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.
Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.
I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.
你手里的光阴是无限的，我的主。你的分秒是无法计算的。
夜去明来，时代像花开花落。你晓得怎样来等待。
你的世纪，一个接着一个，来完成一朵小小的野花。
我们的光阴不能浪费，因为没有时间，我们必须争取机缘。我们太穷苦了，决不可迟到。
因此，在我把时间让给每一个性急的，向我索要时间的人，我的时间就虚度了，最后你的神坛上就没有一点祭品。
一天过去，我赶忙前来，怕你的门已经关闭；但是我发现时间还有充裕。
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord. There is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers. Thou knowest how to wait.
Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.
We have no time to lose, and having no time we must scramble for a chances. We are too poor to be late.
And thus it is that time goes by while I give it to every querulous man who claims it, and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.
At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate to be shut; but I find that yet there is time.
圣母呵，我要把我悲哀的眼泪穿成珠链，挂在你的颈上。
星星把光明做成足镯，来装扮你的双足，但是我的珠链要挂在你的胸前。
名利自你而来，也全凭你的予取。但这悲哀却完全是我自己的，当我把它当作祭品献给你的时候，你就以你的恩慈来酬谢我。
Mother, I shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck with my tears of sorrow.
The stars have wrought their anklets of light to deck thy feet, but mine will hang upon thy breast.
Wealth and fame come from thee and it is for thee to give or to withhold them. But this my sorrow is absolutely mine own, and when I bring it to thee as my offering thou rewardest me with thy grace.
离愁弥漫世界，在无际的天空中生出无数的情境。
就是这离愁整夜地悄望星辰，在七月阴雨之中，萧萧的树籁变成抒情的诗歌。
就是这笼压弥漫的痛苦，加深而成为爱、欲，而成为人间的苦乐；就是它永远通过诗人的心灵，融化流涌而成为诗歌。
It is the pang of separation that spreads throughout the world and gives birth to shapes innumerable in the infinite sky.
It is this sorrow of separation that gazes in silence all nights from star to star and becomes lyric among rustling leaves in rainy darkness of July.
It is this overspreading pain that deepens into loves and desires, into sufferings and joy in human homes; and this it is that ever melts and flows in songs through my poet's heart.
当战士们从他们主公的明堂里刚走出来，他们的武力藏在哪里呢？他们的甲胄和干戈藏在哪里呢？
他们显得无助、可怜，当他们从他们主公的明堂走出的那一天，如雨的箭矢向着他飞射。
当战士们整队走回他们主公的明堂里的时候，他们的武力藏在哪里呢？
他们放下了刀剑和弓矢；和平在他们的额上放光，当他们整队走回他们主公的明堂的那一天，他们把他们生命的果实留在后面了。
When the warriors came out first from their master's hall, where had they hid their power? Where were their armour and their arms?
They looked poor and helpless, and the arrows were showered upon them on the day they came out from their master's hall.
When the warriors marched back again to their master's hall where did they hide their power?
They had dropped the sword and dropped the bow and the arrow; peace was on their foreheads, and they had left the fruits of their life behind them on the day they marched back again to their master's hall.
死亡，你的仆人，来到我的门前。他渡过不可知的海洋临到我家，来传达你的召令。
夜色沉黑，我心中畏惧——但是我要端起灯来，开起门来，鞠躬欢迎他。因为站在我门前的是你的使者。
我要含泪地合掌礼拜他。我要把我心中的财产，放在他脚前，来礼拜他。
他的使命完成了就要回去，在我的晨光中留下了阴影；在我萧条的家里，只剩下孤独的我，作为最后献你的祭品。
Death, thy servant, is at my door. He has crossed the unknown sea and brought thy call to my home.
The night is dark and my heart is fearful---yet I will take up the lamp, open my gates and bow to him my welcome. It is thy messenger who stands at my door.
I will worship him placing at his feet the treasure of my heart.
He will go back with his errand done, leaving a dark shadow on my morning; and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to thee.
在无望的希望中，我在房里的每一个角落找她；我找不到她。
我的房子很小，一旦丢了东西就永远找不回来。
但是你的房子是无边无际的，我的主，为着找她，我来到了你的门前。
我站在你薄暮金色的天穹下，向你抬起渴望的眼。
我来到了永恒的边涯，在这里万物不灭——无论是希望，是幸福，或是从泪眼中望见的人面。
呵，把我空虚的生命浸到这海洋里罢，跳进这最深的完满里罢。让我在宇宙的完整里，感觉一次那失去的温馨的接触罢。
In desperate hope I go and search for her in all the corners of my room; I find her not.
My house is small and what once has gone from it can never be regained.
But infinite is thy mansion, my lord, and seeking her I have to come to thy door.
I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.
I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish---no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.
Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean, plunge it into the deepest fullness. Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch in the allness of the universe.
破庙里的神呵！七弦琴的断线不再弹唱赞美你的诗歌。晚钟也不再宣告礼拜你的时间。你周围的空气是寂静的。
流荡的春风来到你荒凉的居所。它带来了香花的消失——就是那素来供养你的香花，现在却无人来呈献了。
你的礼拜者，那些漂泊的惯旅，永远在企望那还未得到的恩典。黄昏来到，灯光明灭于尘影之中，他困乏地带着饥饿的心回到这破庙里来。
许多佳节都在静默中来到，破庙的神呵。许多礼拜之夜，也在无火无灯中度过了。
精巧的艺术家，造了许多新的神像，当他们的末日来到了，便被抛入遗忘的圣河里。
只有破庙的神遗留在无人礼拜的，不死的冷淡之中。
Deity of the ruined temple! The broken strings of Vina sing no more your praise. The bells in the evening proclaim not your time of worship. The air is still and silent about you.
In your desolate dwelling comes the vagrant spring breeze. It brings the tidings of flowers---the flowers that for your worship are offered no more.
Your worshipper of old wanders ever longing for favour still refused. In the eventide, when fires and shadows mingle with the gloom of dust, he wearily comes back to the ruined temple with hunger in his heart.
Many a festival day comes to you in silence, deity of the ruined temple. Many a night of worship goes away with lamp unlit.
Many new images are built by masters of cunning art and carried to the holy stream of oblivion when their time is come.
Only the deity of the ruined temple remains unworshipped in deathless neglect.
我不再高谈阔论了——这是我主的意旨。从那时起我轻声细语。我心里的话要用歌曲低唱出来。
人们急急忙忙地到国王的市场上去，买卖的人都在那里。但在工作正忙的正午，我就早早地离开。
那就让花朵在我的园中开放，虽然花时未到；让蜜蜂在中午奏起他们慵懒的嗡哼。
我曾把充分的时间，用在理欲交战里，但如今是我暇日游侣的雅兴，把我的心拉到他那里去；我也不知道这忽然的召唤，会引到什么突出的奇景。
No more noisy, loud words from me---such is my master's will. Henceforth I deal in whispers. The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song.
Men hasten to the King's market. All the buyers and sellers are there. But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work.
Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time; and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum.
Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence!
当死神来叩你门的时候，你将以什么贡献他呢？
呵，我要在我客人面前，摆上我的满斟的生命之杯——我决不让它空手回去。
我一切的秋日和夏夜的丰美的收获，我匆促的生命中的一切获得和收藏，在我临终，死神来叩我的门的时候，我都要摆在他的面前。
On the day when death will knock at thy door what wilt thou offer to him?
Oh, I will set before my guest the full vessel of my life---I will never let him go with empty hands.
All the sweet vintage of all my autumn days and summer nights, all the earnings and gleanings of my busy life will I place before him at the close of my days when death will knock at my door.
呵，你这生命最后的完成，死亡，我的死亡，来对我低语罢！
我天天地在守望着你；为你，我忍受着生命中的苦乐。
我的一切存在，一切所有，一切希望，和一切的爱，总在深深的秘密中向你奔流。你的眼泪向我最后一盼，我的生命就永远是你的。
花环已为新郎编好。婚礼行过，新娘就要离家，在静夜里和她的主人独对了。
O thou the last fulfilment of life, Death, my death, come and whisper to me!
Day after day I have kept watch for thee; for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life.
All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy. One final glance from thine eyes and my life will be ever thine own.
The flowers have been woven and the garland is ready for the bridegroom. After the wedding the bride shall leave her home and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night.
我知道这日子将要来到，当我眼中的人世渐渐消失，生命默默地向我道别，把最后的帘幕拉过我的眼前。
但是星辰将在夜中守望，晨曦仍旧升起，时间像海波的汹涌，激荡着欢乐与哀伤。
当我想到我的时间的终点，时间的隔栏便破裂了，在死的光明中，我看见了你的世界和这世界里弃置的珍宝。最低的座位是极其珍奇的，最生的生物也是世间少有的。
我追求而未得到和我已经得到的东西——让它们过去罢。只让我真正地据有了那些我所轻视和忽略的东西。
I know that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall be lost, and life will take its leave in silence, drawing the last curtain over my eyes.
Yet stars will watch at night, and morning rise as before, and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains.
When I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its careless treasures. Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its meanest of lives.
Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got---let them pass. Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned and overlooked.
我已经请了假。弟兄们，祝我一路平安罢！我向你们大家鞠了躬就启程了。
我把我门上的钥匙交还——我把房子的所有权都放弃了。我只请求你们最后的几句好话。
我们做过很久的邻居，但是我接受的多，给与的少。现在天已破晓，我黑暗屋角的灯光已灭。召命已来，我就准备启行了。
I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you all and take my departure.
Here I give back the keys of my door---and I give up all claims to my house. I only ask for last kind words from you.
We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.
在我动身的时光，祝我一路福星罢，我的朋友们！天空里晨光辉煌，我的前途是美丽的。
不要问我带些什么到那边去。我只带着空空的手和企望的心。
我要戴上我婚礼的花冠。我穿的不是红褐色的行装，虽然间关险阻，我心里也没有惧怕。
旅途尽处，晚星将生，从王宫的门口将弹出黄昏的凄乐。
At this time of my parting, wish me good luck, my friends! The sky is flushed with the dawn and my path lies beautiful.
Ask not what I have with me to take there. I start on my journey with empty hands and expectant heart.
I shall put on my wedding garland. Mine is not the red-brown dress of the traveller, and though there are dangers on the way I have no fear in mind.
The evening star will come out when my voyage is done and the plaintive notes of the twilight melodies be struck up from the King's gateway.
当我刚跨过此生的门槛的时候，我并没有发觉。
是什么力量使我在这无边的神秘中开放，像一朵嫩蕊，中夜在森林里开花！
早起我看到光明，我立刻觉得在这世界里我不是一个生人，那不可思议，不可名状的，已以我自己母亲的形象，把我抱在怀里。
就是这样，在死亡里，这同一的不可知者又要以我熟识的面目出现。因为我爱今生，我知道我也会一样地爱死亡。
当母亲从婴儿口中拿开右乳的时候，他就啼哭，但他立刻又从左乳得到了安慰。
I was not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold of this life.
What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight!
When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world, that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother.
Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me. And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well.
The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away, in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation.
当我走的时候，让这个作我的别话罢，就是说我所看过的是卓绝无比的。
我曾尝过在光明海上开放的莲花里的隐蜜，因此我受了祝福——让这个做我的别话罢。
在这形象万千的游戏室里，我已经游玩过，在这里我已经瞥见了那无形象的他。
我浑身上下因着那无从接触的他的摩抚而喜颤；假如死亡在这里来临，就让它来好了——让这个作我的别话罢。
When I go from hence let this be my parting word, that what I have seen is unsurpassable.
I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus that expands on the ocean of light, and thus am I blessed---let this be my parting word.
In this playhouse of infinite forms I have had my play and here have I caught sight of him that is formless.
My whole body and my limbs have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch; and if the end comes here, let it come---let this be my parting word.
当我是同你做游戏的时候，我从来没有问过你是谁。我不懂得羞怯和惧怕，我的生活是热闹的。
清晨你就来把我唤醒，像我自己的伙伴一样，带着我跑过林野。
那些日子，我从来不想去了解你对我唱的歌曲的意义。我只随声附和，我的心应节跳舞。
现在，游戏的时光已过，这突然来到我眼前的情景是什么呢？世界低下眼来看着你的双脚，和它的肃静的众星一同敬畏地站着。
When my play was with thee I never questioned who thou wert. I knew nor shyness nor fear, my life was boisterous.
In the early morning thou wouldst call me from my sleep like my own comrade and lead me running from glade to glade.
On those days I never cared to know the meaning of songs thou sangest to me. Only my voice took up the tunes, and my heart danced in their cadence.
Now, when the playtime is over, what is this sudden sight that is come upon me? The world with eyes bent upon thy feet stands in awe with all its silent stars.
我要以胜利品，我的失败的花环，来装饰你。逃避不受征服，是我永远做不到的。
我准知道我的骄傲会碰壁，我的生命将因着极端的痛苦而炸裂，我的空虚的心将像一枝空苇呜咽出哀音，顽石也融成眼泪。
我准知道莲花的百瓣不会永远团合，深藏的花蜜定将显露。
从碧空将有一只眼睛向我凝视，在默默地召唤我。我将空无所有，绝对的空无所有，我将从你脚下领受绝对的死亡。
I will deck thee with trophies, garlands of my defeat. It is never in my power to escape unconquered.
I surely know my pride will go to the wall, my life will burst its bonds in exceeding pain, and my empty heart will sob out in music like a hollow reed, and the stone will melt in tears.
I surely know the hundred petals of a lotus will not remain closed for ever and the secret recess of its honey will be bared.
From the blue sky an eye shall gaze upon me and summon me in silence. Nothing will be left for me, nothing whatever, and utter death shall I receive at thy feet.
当我放下舵盘，我知道你来接收的时候到了。当做的事立刻要做了。挣扎是无用的。
那就把手拿开，静默地承认失败罢，我的心呵，要想到能在你的岗位上默坐，还算是幸运的。
我的几盏灯都被一阵阵的微风吹灭了，为想把它们重新点起，我屡屡地把其他的事情都忘却了。
这次我要聪明一点，把我的席子铺在地上，在暗中等候；什么时候你高兴，我的主，悄悄地走来坐下罢。
When I give up the helm I know that the time has come for thee to take it. What there is to do will be instantly done. Vain is this struggle.
Then take away your hands and silently put up with your defeat, my heart, and think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still where you are placed.
These my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind, and trying to light them I forget all else again and again.
But I shall be wise this time and wait in the dark, spreading my mat on the floor; and whenever it is thy pleasure, my lord, come silently and take thy seat here.
我跳进形象海洋的深处，希望能得到那无形象的完美的珍珠。
我不再以我的旧船去走遍海港，我乐于弄潮的日子早已过去了。
现在我渴望死于不死之中。
我要拿起我的生命的弦琴，进入无底深渊旁边，那座涌出无调的乐音的广厅。
我要调拨我的琴弦，和永恒的乐音合拍，当它呜咽出最后的声音时，就把我静默的琴儿放在静默的脚边。
I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms, hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.
No more sailing from harbour to harbour with this my weather-beaten boat. The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.
And now I am eager to die into the deathless.
Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss where swells up the music of toneless strings I shall take this harp of my life.
I shall tune it to the notes of forever, and when it has sobbed out its last utterance, lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.
我这一生永远以诗歌来寻求你。它们领我从这门走到那门，我和它们一同摸索，寻求着，接触着我的世界。
我所学过的功课，都是诗歌教给我的；它们把捷径指示给我，它们把我心里地平线上的许多星辰，带到我的眼前。
它们整天地带领我走向苦痛和快乐的神秘之国，最后，在我旅程终点的黄昏，它们要把我带到了哪一座宫殿的门首呢？
Ever in my life have I sought thee with my songs. It was they who led me from door to door, and with them have I felt about me, searching and touching my world.
It was my songs that taught me all the lessons I ever learnt; they showed me secret paths, they brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart.
They guided me all the day long to the mysteries of the country of pleasure and pain, and, at last, to what palace gate have the brought me in the evening at the end of my journey?
我在人前夸说我认得你。在我的作品中，他们看到了你的画像，他们走来问：“他是谁？”我不知道怎么回答。我说，“真的，我说不出来。”他们斥责我，轻蔑地走开了。你却坐在那里微笑。
我把你的事迹编成不朽的诗歌。秘密从我心中涌出。他们走来问我：“把所有的意思都告诉我们罢。”我不知道怎样回答。我说：“呵，谁知道那是什么意思！”他们哂笑了，鄙夷之极地走开。你却坐在那里微笑。
I boasted among men that I had known you. They see your pictures in all works of mine. They come and ask me, 'Who is he?' I know not how to answer them. I say, 'Indeed, I cannot tell.' They blame me and they go away in scorn. And you sit there smiling.
I put my tales of you into lasting songs. The secret gushes out from my heart. They come and ask me, 'Tell me all your meanings.' I know not how to answer them. I say, 'Ah, who knows what they mean!' They smile and go away in utter scorn. And you sit there smiling.
在我向你合十膜拜之中，我的上帝，让我一切的感知都舒展在你的脚下，接触这个世界。
像七月的湿云，带着未落的雨点沉沉下垂，在我向你合十膜拜之中，让我的全副心灵在你的门前俯伏。
让我所有的诗歌，聚集起不同的调子，在我向你合十膜拜之中，成为一股洪流，倾注入静寂的大海。
像一群思乡的鹤鸟，日夜飞向他们的山巢，在我向你合十膜拜之中，让我全部的生命，启程回到它永久的家乡。
In one salutation to thee, my God, let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet.
Like a rain-cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed showers let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee.
Let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single current and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee.
Like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day back to their mountain nests let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home in one salutation to thee.