书城文学中小学生必读丛书:沙与沫
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第2章 沙与沫(2)

我们中间,有些人像墨水,有些人像纸张。

若不是因为有些人是黑的话,有些人就成了哑巴;

若不是因为有些人是白的话,有些人就成了瞎子。

给我一只耳朵,我将给你以声音。

我们的心才是一块海绵;我们的心怀是一道河水。

然而我们大多宁愿吸收而不肯奔流,这不是很奇怪吗?

当你想望着无名的恩赐,怀抱着无端的烦恼的时候,你就真

和一切生物一同长大,升向你的大我。

当一个人沉醉在一个幻象之中,他就会把这幻象的模糊的情味当作真实的酒。

你喝酒为的是求醉;我喝酒为的是要从别种的醉酒中清醒过来。

Some of us are like ink and some like paper.

And if it were not for the blackness of some of us, some of us wouldbe dumb;

And if it were not for the whiteness of some of us, some of us wouldbe blind.

Give me an ear and I will give you a voice.

Our mind is a sponge; our heart is a stream.

Is it not strange that most of us choose sucking rather than running?

When you long for blessings that you may not name, and when you

grieve knowing not the cause, then indeed you are growing with all thingsthat grow, and rising toward your greater self.

When one is drunk with a vision, he deems his faint expression of itthe very wine.

You drink wine that you may be intoxicated; and I drink that it maysober me from that other wine.

当我的酒杯空了的时候,我就让它空着;但当它半满的时候,我却恨它半满。

一个人的实质,不在于他向你显露的那一面,而在于他所不能向你显露的那一面。

因此,如果你想了解他,不要去听他说出的话,而要去听他的没有说出的话。

我说的话有一半是没有意义的;我把它说出来,为的是也许会让你听到其他的一半。

幽默感就是分寸感。

当人们夸奖我多言的过失,责备我沉默的美德的时候,我的寂寞就产生了。

当生命找不到一个歌唱家来唱出她的心情的时候,她就产生一个哲学家来说出她的心思。

When my cup is empty I resign myself to its emptiness; but when it ishalf full I resent its half-fulness.

The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but inwhat he cannot reveal to you.

Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says butrather to what he does not say.

Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it so that the other half mayreach you.

A sense of humour is a sense of proportion.

My loneliness was born when men praised my talkative faults andblamed my silent virtues.

When Life does not find a singer to sing her heart she produces aphilosopher to speak her mind.

真理是常久被人知道的,有时被人说出的。

我们的真实的我是沉默的;后天的我是多嘴的。

我的生命内的声音达不到你的生命内的耳朵;但是为了避免寂寞,就让我们交谈吧。

当两个女人交谈的时候,她们什么话也没有说;当一个女人自语的时候,她揭露了生命的一切。

青蛙也许会叫得比牛更响,但是它们不能在田里拉犁,也不会在酒坊里牵磨,它们的皮也做不出鞋来。

只有哑巴才妒忌多嘴的人。

A truth is to be known always, to beuttered sometimes.

The real in us is silent; the acquired istalkative.

The voice of life in me cannot reach theear of life in you; but let us talk that we maynot feel lonely.

When two women talk they saynothing; when one woman speaks shereveals all of life.

Frogs may bellow louder than bulls, butthey cannot drag the plough in the field notturn the wheel of the winepress, and of theirskins you cannot make shoes.

Only the dumb envy the talkative.

如果冬天说,“春天在我的心里”,谁会相信冬天呢?

每一粒种子都是一个愿望。

如果你真的睁起眼睛来看,你会从每一个形象中看到你自己的形象。

如果你张开耳朵来听,你会在一切声音里听到你自己的声音。

真理是需要我们两个人来发现的:一个人来讲说它,一个人来了解它。

虽然言语的波浪永远在我们上面喧哗,而我们的深处却永远是沉默的。

许多理论都像一扇窗户,我们通过它看到真理,但是它也把我们同真理隔开。

让我们玩捉迷藏吧。你如果藏在我的心里,就不难把你找到。但是如果你藏到你的壳里去,那么任何人也找你不到的。

If winter should say, "Spring is in my heart," who would believewinter?

Every seed is a longing.

Should you really open your eyes and see, you would behold yourimage in all images.

And should you open your ears and listen, you would hear your ownvoice in all voices.

It takes two of us to discover truth: one to utter it and one to understandit.

Though the wave of words is forever upon us, yet our depth is foreversilent.

Many a doctrine is like a window pane. We see truth through it but itdivides us from truth.

Now let us play hide and seek. Should you hide in my heart it wouldnot be difficult to find you. But should you hide behind your own shell,

then it would be useless for anyone to seek you.

一个女人可以用微笑把她的脸蒙了起来。

那颗能够和欢乐的心一同唱出欢歌的忧愁的心,是多么高贵呵。

想了解女人,或分析天才,或想解答沉默的神秘的人,就是那个想从一个美梦中挣扎醒来坐到早餐桌上的人。

我愿意同走路的人一同行走。我不愿站住看着队伍走过。

对于服侍你的人,你欠他的还不只是金子。把你的心交给他或是服侍他吧。

没有,我们没有白活。他们不是把我们的骨头堆成堡垒了吗?

A woman may veil her face with a smile.

How noble is the sad heart who would sing a joyous song withjoyous hearts.

He who would understand a woman, or dissect genius, or solve themystery of silence is the very man who would wake from a beautiful dreamto sit at a breakfast table.

I would walk with all those who walk. I would not stand still to watchthe procession passing by.

You owe more than gold to him who serves you. Give him of yourheart or serve him.

Nay, we have not lived in vain. Have they not built towers of ourbones?

我们不要挑剔计较吧。诗人的心思和蝎子的尾巴,都是从同一块土地上光荣地升起的。

每一条毒龙都产生出一个屠龙的圣乔治来。

树木是大地写上天空中的诗。我们把它们砍下造纸,让我们可以把我们的空洞记录下来。

如果你要写作(只有圣人才晓得你为什么要写作),你必须有知识、艺术和魔术--字句的音乐的知识,不矫揉造作的艺术,和热爱你读者的魔术。

他们把笔蘸在我们的心怀里,就认为他们已经得了灵感了。

如果一棵树也写自传的话,它不会不像一个民族的历史。

如果我在“写诗的能力”和“未写成诗的欢乐”之间选择的话,我就要选那欢乐。因为欢乐是更好的诗。

但是你和我所有的邻居,都一致地说我总是不会选择。

Let us not be particular and sectional. The poet"s mind and thescorpion"s tail rise in glory from the same earth.

Every dragon gives birth to a St. George who slays it.

Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky. We fell them downand turn them into paper that we may record our emptiness.

Should you care to write and only the saints knowwhy you should you must needs have knowledge

and art and magic-the knowledge of the music ofwords, the art of being artless, and the magic ofloving your readers.

They dip their pens in our hearts and thinkthey are inspired.

Should a tree write its autobiography it would notbe unlike the history of a race.

If I were to choose between the power of writing a poem and theecstasy of a poem unwritten, I would choose the ecstasy. It is better poetry.

But you and all my neighbors agree that I always choose badly.

诗不是一种表白出来的意见。它是从一个伤口或是一个笑口涌出的一首歌曲。

言语是没有时间性的。在你说它或是写它的时候应该懂得它的特点。

诗人是一个退位的君王,坐在他的宫殿的灰烬里,想用残灰捏出一个形象。

诗是欢乐、痛苦和惊奇穿插着词汇的一场交道。

一个诗人要想寻找他心里诗歌的母亲的话,是徒劳无功的。

我曾对一个诗人说:“不到你死后我们不会知道你的评价。”

他回答说:“是的,死亡永远是个揭露者。

如果你真想知道我的评价,那就是我心里的比舌上的多,我所愿望的比手里现有的多。”

如果你歌颂美,即使你是在沙漠的中心,你也会有听众。

Poetry is not an opinion expressed. It is a song that rises from ableeding wound or a smiling mouth.

Words are timeless. You should utter them or write them with aknowledge of their timelessness.

A poet is a dethroned king sitting among the ashes of his palace tryingto fashion an image out of the ashes.

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of thedictionary.

In vain shall a poet seek the mother of the songs of his heart.

Once I said to a poet, "We shall not know your worth until you die."

And he answered saying, "Yes, death is always the revealer.