ON BEAUTYfficeffice" />

     And a poet said, Speak to us of Beauty.

     And he answeredo:p>

     Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you

find her unless she herself be your way and your

guide?

     And how shall you speak of her except she be

the weaver of your speech?

     The aggrieved and the injured say,  "Beauty is

kind and gentle.

      Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory

she walks among us."

     And the passionate say,  "Nay, beauty is a thing

of might and dread.

     Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us

and the sky above us."

     The tired and the weary say,  “Beauty is of soft

whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.

     Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light

   that quivers in fear of the shadow.”

     But the restless say,  "We have heard her

   shouting among the mountains.

     And with her Cries came the sound of hoofs, and

   the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."

     At night the watchman of city say, "Beauty

    shall rise with the dawn of east."

      And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers

    say,  'We have seen her leaning over the earth from

the windows of the sunset,"

     In winter say the snow-bound,  "She shall come

with the spring leaping upon the hills"

And in the summer heat the reapers say,”We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.”

     Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs

    unsatisfied.

     And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.

    It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand

 stretched forth,

      But rather a heart enflamed and a soul

enchanted.

      It is not the image you would see nor the song

you would hear,

      But rather an image you see though you close

your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your

ears.

     It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a

wing attached to a claw,

     But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock

of angels for ever in flight.

     People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life

unveils her holy face.

     But you are life and you are the veil.

     Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

But you are eternity and you are the mirror.

 

                                                                                                                关于美

一个诗人说，和我们说说美吧

他答道

你去哪里寻找美？又如何找到她？除非她自己向你走来，指引你

你如何能形容她，除非她自己是你语言的织者？

悲戚受伤的人说：“美是善良温和。象一个年轻的母亲，半羞地走在我们中间。”

激情的人说：“不，美充满力量和恐怖。

象引诱者，她摇动我们脚下的大地和头顶的天空。”

疲惫不堪的人说：“美是温柔的低语，她的话直入你的灵魂。她的声音在我们的沉默中远去，就如昏暗的灯在阴影的恐怖中颤抖。“

但从不休息的人说：“我们听见她在群山中呐喊。

伴着她的喊声，传来马蹄隆隆，展翅萧萧，狮吼阵阵。”

城市的守夜人说：“美将随黎明从东方升起。：

在涨潮之夜的劳作者和远行人说：“我们看见她靠着落日之窗俯瞰大地。”

冬日，困于雪中的人说：“她会随春天而来，跳上山冈。”

夏天炎热中的收割者说：“我们看见她和秋日的叶子共舞，我们看见她的头上飘着雪花。”

实际上，你们形容她的，都是你们未满足的愿望

美不是一种需要，而是一种狂喜。

它不是干渴的嘴唇，也不是伸出的空手

而是被点燃的心和迷醉的灵魂

它不是你们会看到的形象或要听到的歌

却是你们通过紧闭的双目看到的形象，紧塞的双耳听到的歌

它不是流溢在树皮褶皱中的汁，也不是带爪的翼

而是繁花似锦的永恒花园，天使永远在那里飞翔

奥菲利斯的人们啊，美就是生活，当生活揭开面纱露出她神圣的面孔时

而你就是生活，你也是生活的面纱

美是永远对着镜子中凝视自己的永恒

而你就是永恒，你也是那镜子

            ON RELIGION

     And an old priest said, Speak to us of Religion.

     And he saido:p>

     Have I spoken this day of aught else?

     Is not religion all deeds and all reflection,

     And that which is neither deed nor reflection,

but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the

soul, even while the hands hew the stone or tend the

loom?

     Who can separate his faith from his actions, or

his belief from his occupations?

     Who can spread his hours before him, saying,

"This for God and this for myself: This for my soul,

and this other for my body?"

     All your hours are wings that beat through space

from self to self.

     He who wears his morality but as his best

garment were better naked.

        The wind and the sun will tear no holes in his

   skin.

        And he who defines his conduct by ethics

 imprisons his song-bird in a cage.

  The freest song comes not through bars and

  wires;

     And he to whom worshipping is a window, to

   open but also to shut, has not yet visited the house of

  his soul whose windows are open from dawn to

  dawn.

      Your daily lifeSPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes">   your temple and your religion.

       Whenever you enter into it take with you your

  all.

 

       Take the plough and the forge and the mallet and

 the lute,

      The things you have fashioned in necessity or

 for delight.

      For in revery you cannot rise above your

 achievements nor fall lower than your failures~

      And take with you all meno:p>

      For in adoration you cannot fly higher than their

 hopes nor humble yourself lower than their despair.

      And if you would know God be not therefore a

solver of riddles.

      Rather look about you and you shall see Him

playing with your children.

     And look into space; you shall see Him walking

in the cloud, outstretching His arms in the lightning

and descending in rain.

     You shall see Him smiling in flowers, the rising

and waving His hands in trees.

           

 

关于宗教

一个老祭司问，和我们说说宗教吧

他说：

我今天说了什么别的吗？

宗教不是行为和感知吗？

还有那即使凿石织布时，也非行和感知，却是灵魂中跳动奇迹与惊奇

那将他的道德穿为自己最好衣裳的人，最好去赤裸

他的皮肤无法受到风与阳光关爱

那用伦理指导自己行为的人，将他的百灵拘在笼中

最自由的歌声不会从牢笼中飞出

对于那些崇拜是可开可闭的窗的人，他还没有造访自己灵魂的居所，那里窗户永远为黎明敞开

你们每日的生活：你们的神殿和宗教

每当你们进去时，你们带进去一切

带着你们的犁，冶炉，木缒和诗琴

那些使你们需要和愉悦的东西

因为在空想中，你们不能高出自己的成就，也不会低于自己的失败

还要带上所有爱你的人：

在被喜爱中，你们不会比他们想象的飞得更高，也不会因使他们更绝望而羞辱了自己

如果你了解上帝，就会知道他不是个解谜者

他在看着你，你会发现他正和你的孩子们玩耍

望向太空，你会看他在云中走，向闪电伸出臂膀，虽着雨水降落大地

你会看见他在花丛中微笑，在林中摇着他的手。

 

ON DEATH

     Then Almitra spoke, saying We would ask now

of Death.

     And he saido:p>

You would know the secret of death.

     But how shall you find it unless you seek it in

the heart of life?

     The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto

the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.

     If you would indeed behold the spirit of death,

open your heart wide unto the body of life.

     For life and death are one, even as the river and

the sea are one.

 

     In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your

silent knowledge of the beyond;

     And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your

heart dreams of spring.

     Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate

to eternity.

     Your fear of death is but the trembling of the

shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand

is to be laid upon him in honour.

 

     Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling,

that he shall wear the mark of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

     For what is it to die but to stand naked in the

wind and to melt into the sun?

     And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the

breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and

expand and seek God unencumbered?

      Only when you drink from the river of silence

shall you indeed sing.

      And when you have reached the mountain top,

then you shall begin to climb.

      And when the earth shall claim your limbs ，then

 shall you truly dance.

 

关于死亡

阿尔米特拉开口道，和我们说说我们想问的死亡吧

他说：

你们会知道死亡的秘密

但若你们不在生命的中心寻求，你们又如何知道？

猫头鹰的眼不为光明敞开，它又如何知道光明的秘密。

如果你们想真正了解死亡的真谛，那就想生命本身敞开心胸

因为生与死是一体，就如河与海是一物

在你们希冀与欲望的深处藏着你们对更深远的事物的沉默认知

如同种子在雪的覆盖下梦想，你们的心梦想着春天

信任这梦想吧，因为他们藏有通往永恒之门

你们对死亡的恐惧只是牧羊人在国王面前的颤抖，而国王将会给他荣光

牧羊人在他的颤抖中不快乐吗？他的身上将带有国王的印记

那么他的颤抖不是更深沉吗？

因为死亡不就是赤裸地站在风中，融于阳光里吗？

什么是停止呼吸，不就是将呼吸从无休止的劳碌中解放出来，使它能自由地升华，扩展，追寻上帝？

只有当你从静默的河水中汲吮时，你才能真正地歌唱

只有当你达到山峦的顶峰是，你才开始攀登

只有当大地所求你的肢体时，你才能真正的舞蹈。

 

 THE FAREWELLfficeffice" />

     And now it was evening.

     And Almitra the seeress said, Blessed be this

day and this place and your spirit that has spoken.

     And he answered, Was it I who spoke? Was I not

also a listener?

 

     Then he descended the steps of the ffice:smarttags" />Temple and

all the people followed him. And he reached his ship

and stood upon the deck.

  And facing people again, he raised his voice and saido:p>

   People of Orphalese, the wind bids me leave

you.

     Less hasty am I than the wind, yet I must go.

     We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way,

begin no day where we have ended another day; and

no sunrise finds us where sunset left us.

     Even while the earth sleeps we travel.

     We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is

in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are

given to the wind and are scattered.

     Brief were my days among you, and briefer still

the words I have spoken.

     But should my voice fade in your ears, and my

love vanish in your memory, then I will come again,

     And with a richer heart and lips more yielding to

the spirit will I speak.

      Yea, I shall return with the tide,

      And though death may hide me, and the greater

silence enfold me, yet again will I seek your

understanding.

 

      And not in vain will I seek.

      If aught I have said is truth, that truth shall

 reveal itself in a clearer voice, and in words more kin

 to your thoughts.

      I go with the wind, people of Orphalese, but not

 down into emptiness;

      And if this day is not a fulfilment of your needs

 and my love, then let it be a promise till another day.

      Man's needs change, but not his love, nor his

desire that his love should satisfy his needs.

      Know therefore, that from the greater silence I

shall return.

     The mist that drifts away at dawn, leaving but

dew in the fields, shall rise and gather into a cloud

and then fall down in rain.

     And not unlike the mist have I been.

     In the stillness of the night I have walked in your

streets, and my spirit has entered your houses,

     And your heart-beats were in my heart, and your

breath was upon my face, and I knew you all. 

      

     Ay, I knew your joy and your pain, and in your 

sleep your dreams were my dreams.

     And oftentimes I was among you a lake among

the mountains.

     I mirrored the summits in you and the bending

slopes, and even the Passing flocks of your thoughts

and your desires.

     And to my silence came the laughter of your

children in streams, and the longing of your youths in

rivers.

     And when they reached my depth the streams

and the rivers ceased not yet to sing.

     But sweeter still than laughter and greater than

longing came to me.

     It was the boundless in you;

     The vast man in whom you are all but cells and

sinews;

     He in whose chant all your singing is but a

soundless throbbing.

     It is in the vast man that you are vast,

     And in beholding him that I beheld you and

loved you.

     For what distances can love reach that are not in

that vast sphere?

     What visions, what expectations and what

presumptions can outsoar that flight?

     Like a giant oak tree covered with apple

blossoms is the vast man in you.

     His might binds you to the earth, his fragrance

lifts you into space, and in his durability you are

deathless.

     You have been told that, even like a chain, you

are as weak as your weakest link.

     This is but half the truth. You are also as strong

as your strongest link.

     To measure you by your smallest deed is to

reckon the power of ocean by the frailty of its foam.

     To judge you by your failures is to cast blame

upon the seasons for their inconstancy.

     Ay, you are like an ocean,

     And though heavy-grounded ships await the tide

upon your shores, yet, even like an ocean, you cannot

hasten your tides.

     And like the seasons you are also,

     And though in your winter you deny your spring,

     Yet spring, reposing within you, smiles in her

drowsiness and is not offended.

     Think not I say these things in order that you

may say the one to the other,  "He praised us well.

He saw but the good in us."

 

 

     I only speak to you in words of that which you

yourselves know in thought.

     And what is word knowledge but a shadow of

wordless knowledge?

     Your thoughts and my words are waves from a

sealed memory that keeps records of our yesterdays,

     And of the ancient days when the earth knew not

us nor herself,

     And of nights when earth was upwrought with confusion

   Wise men have come to you to give you of their wisdom.

I came to take of your wisdom

  And behold I have found that which is greater

   than wisdom,

   It is a flame spirit in you ever gathering more of

   itself,

While you, heedless of its expansion, bewail the

   Withering of your days,

It is life in quest of life in bodies that fear the

 Grave.

   There are no grave here.         

This mountains and plains are a cradle and a stepping-stone.

Whenever you pass by field where you have laid your ancestors look well there-upon, and you shall see yourselves and your children dancing hand in hand.

     Verily you often make merry without knowing.

     Others have come to you to whom for golden

promises make unto your faith you have given but

riches and power and glory.

     Less than a promise have I given, and yet more

generous have you been to me.

     You have given me my deeper thirsting after life.

     Surely there is no greater gift to a man than that

which turns all his aims into parching lips and all life

into a fountain.

      And in this lies my honour and my reward,-

     That whenever I come to the fountain to drink I

find the living water itself thirsty;

     And it drinks me while I drink it.

     Some of you have deemed me proud and over-

shy to receive gifts.

     Too proud indeed am I to receive wages, but not

gifts.

      And though I have eaten berries among the hills

 when you would have had me sit at you board,

      And slept in the portico of the temple when you

would gladly have sheltered me,

      Yet was it not your loving mindfulness of my

days and my nights that made food sweet to my

mouth and girdled my sleep with visions?

     For this I bless you mosto:p>

     You give much and know not that you give at

all.

     Verily the kindness that gazes upon itself in a

mirror turns to stone,

     And a good deed that calls itself by tender

names becomes the parent to a curse.

     And some of you have called me aloof, and

drunk with my own aloneness,

    And you have said,  '~e holds council with the

Irees of the forest, but not with men.

      He sits alone on hill-tops and looks down upon

 our city."

      True it is that I have climbed the hills and

 walked in remote places.

      How could I have seen you save from a great

 height or a great distance?

      How can one be indeed near unless he be far?

      And others among you called unto me, not in

words, and they said,

      "Stranger, stranger, lover of unreachable heights,

why dwell you among the summits where eagles

build their nests?

     Why seek you the unattainable?

     What storms would you trap in your net,

     And what vaporous birds do you hunt in the

sky?

     Come and be one of us.

     Descend and appease your hunger with our

bread and quench your thirst with our wine."

     In the solitude of their souls they said these

things;

     But were their solitude deeper they would have

known that I sought but the secret of your joy and

your pain,

     And I hunted only your larger selves that walk

the sky.

     But the hunter was also the huntedo:p>

     ,For many of my arrows left my bow only to seek

my own breast,

     And the flier was also the creepero:p>

     For when my wings were spread in the sun their

shadow upon the earth was a turtle.

      And I the believer was also the doubt.

      For often have I put my finger in my own wound

that I might have the greater belief in you and the

 greater knowledge of you.

      And it is with this belief and this knowledge that

 I say,

      You are not enclosed within your bodies, nor

confined to houses or fields.

     That which is you dwells above the mountain

and roves with the wind.

     It is not a thing that crawls into the sun for

warmth or digs holes into darkness for safety,

     But a thing free, a spirit that envelops the earth

and moves in the ether.

     If these be vague words, then seek not to clear

them.

     Vague and nebulous is the beginning of all

things, but not their end,