夏天的飞鸟 上

Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sign. 夏天的飞鸟，飞到我的窗前唱歌，又飞去了。 秋天的黄叶，它们没有什么可唱，只叹息一声，飞落在那里。 A Troupe of little vagrants of the world, leave your footprints in my words. 世界上的一队小小的漂泊者呀，请留下你们的足印在我的文字里。 The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal. 世界对着它的爱人，把它浩翰的面具揭下了。 它变小了，小如一首歌，小如一回永恒的接吻。 It is the tears of the earth that keep here smiles in bloom. 是大地的泪点，使她的微笑保持着青春不谢。 The mighty desert is burning for the love of a bladeof grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away. 无垠的沙漠热烈追求一叶绿草的爱，她摇摇头笑着飞开了。 If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars. 如果你因失去了太阳而流泪，那么你也将失去群星了。 The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Will you carry the burden of their lameness? 跳舞着的流水呀，在你途中的泥沙，要求你的歌声，你的流动呢。你肯挟瘸足的泥沙而俱下么？ Her wishful face haunts my dreams like the rain at night. 她的热切的脸，如夜雨似的，搅扰着我的梦魂。 Once we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other. 有一次，我们梦见大家都是不相识的。 我们醒了，却知道我们原是相亲相爱的。 Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening among the silent trees. 忧思在我的心里平静下去，正如暮色降临在寂静的山林中。 Some unseen fingers, like an idle breeze, are playing upon my heart the music of the ripples. 有些看不见的手，如懒懒的微风似的，正在我的心上奏着潺潺的乐声。 What language is thine, O sea? The language of eternal question. What language is thy answer, O sky? The language of eternal silence. “海水呀，你说的是什么？ “是永恒的疑问。 “天空呀，你回答的话是什么？ “是永恒的沉默。 Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes love to you. 静静地听，我的心呀，听那世界的低语，这是它对你求爱的表示呀。 The mystery of creation is like the darkness of night--it is great. Delusions of knowledge are like the fog of the morning. 创造的神秘，有如夜间的黑暗－－是伟大的。而知识的幻影却不过如晨间之雾。 Do not seat your love upon a precipice because it is high. 不要因为峭壁是高的，便让你的爱情坐在峭壁上。 I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes. 我今晨坐在窗前，世界如一个路人似的，停留了一会，向我点点头又走过去了。 There little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their whisper of joy in my mind. 这些零碎的思想，是树叶的簌簌之声呀；它们在我的心里欢悦地微语着。 What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow. 你看不见你自己，你所看见的只是你的影子。 My wishes are fools, they shout across thy song, my Master. Let me but listen. 神呀，我的那些愿望真是愚傻呀，它们杂在你的歌声中喧叫着呢。让我只是静听着吧。 I cannot choose the best. The best chooses me. 我不能选择那最好的。 是那最好的选择我。 They throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on their back. 那些把灯背在背上的人，把他们的影子投到了自己前面。 That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life. 我的存在，对我是一个永久的神奇，这就是生活。 We, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms, but who are you so silent?“ I am a mere flower. “我们萧萧的树叶都有声响回答那风和雨。你是谁呢，那样的沉默着？ “我不过是一朵花。 Rest belongs to the work as the eyelids to the eyes. 休息与工作的关系，正如眼睑与眼睛的关系。 Man is a born child, his power is the power of growth. 人是一个初生的孩子，他的力量，就是生长的力量。