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ãã1
ããå¤å¤©çé£é¸ï¼é£å°æççªåå±æï¼åé£å»äºã
ããç§å¤©çé»å¶ï¼å®ä»¬æ²¡æä»ä¹å¯å±ï¼åªå¹æ¯ä¸å£°ï¼é£è½å¨é£éã
ããstray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away.
ããand yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall
ããthere with a sign.
ãã2
ããä¸çä¸çä¸éå°å°çæ¼æ³è
åï¼è¯·çä¸ä½ 们ç足å°å¨æçæåéã
ãão troupe of little vagrants of the world, leave your footprints in my words.
ãã3
ããä¸ç对çå®çç±äººï¼æå®æµ©ç¿°çé¢å
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ããå®åå°äºï¼å°å¦ä¸é¦æï¼å°å¦ä¸åæ°¸æçæ¥å»ã
ããthe world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover.
ããit becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal.
ãã4
ããæ¯å¤§å°ç泪ç¹ï¼ä½¿å¥¹çå¾®ç¬ä¿æçéæ¥ä¸è°¢ã
ããit is the tears of the earth that keep here smiles in bloom.
ãã5
ããæ å çæ²æ¼ çç追æ±ä¸å¶ç»¿èçç±ï¼å¥¹ææ头ç¬çé£å¼äºã
ããthe mighty desert is burning for the love of a bladeof grass who
ããshakes her head and laughs and flies away.
ãã6
ããå¦æä½ å 失å»äºå¤ªé³èæµæ³ªï¼é£ä¹ä½ ä¹å°å¤±å»ç¾¤æäºã
ããif you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.
ãã7
ããè·³èççæµæ°´åï¼å¨ä½ éä¸çæ³¥æ²ï¼è¦æ±ä½ çæ声ï¼ä½ çæµå¨å¢ãä½ è¯æç¸è¶³çæ³¥æ²è俱ä¸ä¹ï¼
ããthe sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing
ããwater. will you carry the burden of their lameness?
ãã8
ãã她ççåçè¸ï¼å¦å¤é¨ä¼¼çï¼æ
æ°çæç梦éã
ããher wishful face haunts my dreams like the rain at night.
ãã9
ããæä¸æ¬¡ï¼æ们梦è§å¤§å®¶é½æ¯ä¸ç¸è¯çã
ããæ们éäºï¼å´ç¥éæ们åæ¯ç¸äº²ç¸ç±çã
ããonce we dreamt that we were strangers.
ããwe wake up to find that we were dear to each other.
ãã10
ãã忧æå¨æçå¿éå¹³éä¸å»ï¼æ£å¦æ®è²é临å¨å¯éçå±±æä¸ã
ããsorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening among
ããthe silent trees.
ãã11
ããæäºçä¸è§çæï¼å¦ææçå¾®ï¼é£æï¼çï¼æ£å¨æçå¿ä¸å¥ç 潺ï¼æ°µç°ï¼çä¹å£°ã
ããsome unseen fingers, like an idle breeze, are playing upon my heart
ããthe music of the ripples.
ãã12
ããâæµ·æ°´åï¼ä½ 说çæ¯ä»ä¹ï¼â
ããâæ¯æ°¸æççé®ãâ
ããâ天空åï¼ä½ åççè¯æ¯ä»ä¹ï¼â
ããâæ¯æ°¸æçæ²é»ãâ
ããwhat language is thine, o sea?the language of eternal question.what language is thy answer, o sky?the language of eternal silence.
ãã13
ããééå°å¬ï¼æçå¿åï¼å¬é£ä¸ççä½è¯ï¼è¿æ¯å®å¯¹ä½ æ±ç±ç表示åã
ããlisten, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes
ããlove to you.
ãã14
ããåé çç¥ç§ï¼æå¦å¤é´çé»æï¼ï¼æ¯ä¼å¤§çãèç¥è¯ç幻影å´ä¸è¿å¦æ¨é´ä¹é¾ã
ããthe mystery of creation is like the darkness of night--it is great.delusions of knowledge are like the fog of the morning.
ãã15
ããä¸è¦å 为å³å£æ¯é«çï¼ä¾¿è®©ä½ çç±æ
åå¨å³å£ä¸ã
ããdo not seat your love upon a precipice because it is high.
ãã16
ããæä»æ¨åå¨çªåï¼ä¸çå¦ä¸ä¸ªè·¯äººä¼¼çï¼åçäºä¸ä¼ï¼åæç¹ç¹å¤´åèµ°è¿å»äºã
ããi sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops
ããfor a moment, nods to me and goes.
ãã17
ããè¿äºå¾®ï¼é£æï¼ï¼æ¯æ å¶çç°ç°ä¹å£°åï¼å®ä»¬å¨æçå¿é欢æ¦å°å¾®è¯çã
ããthere little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their
ããwhisper of joy in my mind.
ãã18
ããä½ çä¸è§ä½ èªå·±ï¼ä½ æçè§çåªæ¯ä½ çå½±åã
ããwhat you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow.
ãã19
ããç¥åï¼æçé£äºæ¿æçæ¯æå»åï¼å®ä»¬æå¨ä½ çæ声ä¸å§å«çå¢ã
ãã让æåªæ¯éå¬çå§ã
ããmy wishes are fools, they shout across thy song, my master.
ããlet me but listen.
ãã20
ããæä¸è½éæ©é£æ好çã
ããæ¯é£æ好çéæ©æã
ããi cannot choose the best.
ããthe best chooses me.
ãã21
ããé£äºæç¯èå¨èä¸ç人ï¼æä»ä»¬çå½±åæå°äºèªå·±åé¢ã
ããthey throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on
ããtheir back.
ãã22
ããæçåå¨ï¼å¯¹ææ¯ä¸ä¸ªæ°¸ä¹
çç¥å¥ï¼è¿å°±æ¯çæ´»ã
ããthat i exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.
ãã23
ããâæ们è§è§çæ å¶é½æ声ååçé£é£åé¨ãä½ æ¯è°å¢ï¼é£æ ·çæ²é»çï¼â
ããâæä¸è¿æ¯ä¸æµè±ãâ we, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms,
ããbut who are you so silent?"i am a mere flower.
ãã24
ããä¼æ¯ä¸å·¥ä½çå
³ç³»ï¼æ£å¦ç¼çä¸ç¼ççå
³ç³»ã
ããrest belongs to the work as the eyelids to the eyes.
ãã25
ãã人æ¯ä¸ä¸ªåççå©åï¼ä»çåéï¼å°±æ¯çé¿çåéã
ããman is a born child, his power is the power of growth.
ãã26
ããç¥å¸ææ们é
¬çä»ï¼å¨äºä»éç»æ们çè±æµï¼èä¸å¨äºå¤ªé³ååå°ã
ããgod expects answers for the flowers he sends us, not for the sun
ããthe earth.
ãã27
ããå
æå¦ä¸ä¸ªè£¸ä½çå©åï¼å¿«å¿«æ´»æ´»å°å¨ç»¿å¶å½ä¸æ¸¸æï¼å®ä¸ç¥é人æ¯ä¼æ¬ºè¯çã
ããthe light that plays, like a naked child, among the green leaves
ããhappily knows not that man can lie.
ãã28
ããåï¼ç¾åï¼å¨ç±ä¸æ¾ä½ èªå·±å§ï¼ä¸è¦å°ä½ éåçè°è°å»æ¾å¯»ã
ãão beauty, find thyself in love, not in the flattery of thy mirror.
ãã29
ããæçå¿æ她ç波浪å¨ä¸çç海岸ä¸å²æ¿çï¼ä»¥ç泪å¨ä¸è¾¹åç她çé¢è®°ï¼âæç±ä½ ãâ
ããmy heart beats her waves at the shore of the world and writes upon
ããit her signature in tears with the words, "i love thee."
ãã30
ããâæå¿åï¼ä½ å¨çåä»ä¹å¢ï¼â
ããâåæå°è®©ä½ç»ä»ç太é³è´æ¬ãâ moon, for what do you wait?to salute the sun for whom i must make way.
ãã31
ãã绿æ é¿å°äºæççªåï¼ä»¿ä½æ¯ååç大å°ååºç渴æç声é³ã
ããthe trees come up to my window like the yearning voice of the dumb earth.
ãã32
ããç¥èªå·±çæ¸
æ¨ï¼å¨ä»èªå·±çæ¥ä¹æ¯æ°å¥çã
ããhis own mornings are new surprises to god.
ãã33
ããçå½ä»ä¸çå¾å°èµäº§ï¼ç±æ
使å®å¾å°ä»·å¼ã
ããlife finds its wealth by the claims of the world, and its worth
ããby the claims of love.
ãã34
ããæ¯ç«çæ²³åºï¼å¹¶ä¸æè°¢å®çè¿å»ã
ããthe dry river-bed finds no thanks for its past.
ãã35
ããé¸å¿æ¿ä¸ºä¸æµäºã
ããäºå¿æ¿ä¸ºä¸åªé¸ã
ããthe bird wishes it were a cloud.
ããthe cloud wishes it were a bird.
ãã36
ããçå¸æå±éï¼âæå¾å°èªç±æ¶ä¾¿æäºæ声äºãâ
ããthe waterfall sing, "i find my song, when i find my freedom."
ãã37
ããæ说ä¸åºè¿å¿ä¸ºä»ä¹é£æ ·é»é»å°é¢ä¸§çã
ããæ¯ä¸ºäºå®é£ä¸æ¾è¦æ±ï¼ä¸æ¾ç¥éï¼ä¸æ¾è®°å¾çå°å°çéè¦ã
ããi cannot tell why this heart languishes in silence.
ããit is for small needs it never asks, or knows or remembers.
ãã38
ããå¦äººï¼ä½ å¨æç家å¡çæ¶åï¼ä½ çæ足æå±çï¼æ£å¦å±±é´ç溪水æå±çå¨å°ç³ä¸æµè¿ã
ããwoman, when you move about in your household service your limbs sing
ããlike a hill stream among its pebbles.
ãã39
ããå½å¤ªé³æ¨ªè¿è¥¿æ¹çæµ·é¢æ¶ï¼å¯¹çä¸æ¹çä¸ä»çæåçæ¬ç¤¼ã
ããthe sun goes to cross the western sea, leaving its last salutation
ããto the east.
ãã40
ããä¸è¦å ä¸ºä½ èªå·±æ²¡æèå£èå»è´£å¤ä½ çé£ç©ã
ããdo not blame your food because you have no appetite.
ãã41
ãã群æ å¦è¡¨ç¤ºå¤§å°çæ¿æä¼¼çï¼è¸®èµ·èæ¥å天空窥æã
ããthe trees, like the longings of the earth, stand atiptoe to peep
ããat the heaven.
ãã42
ããä½ å¾®å¾®å°ç¬çï¼ä¸åæ说ä»ä¹è¯ãèæè§å¾ï¼ä¸ºäºè¿ä¸ªï¼æå·²çå¾
å¾ä¹
äºã
ããyou smiled and talked to me of nothing and i felt that for this
ããi had been waiting long.
ãã43
ããæ°´éç游鱼æ¯æ²é»çï¼éå°ä¸çå
½ç±»æ¯å§é¹çï¼ç©ºä¸çé£é¸æ¯æå±ççã
ããä½æ¯ï¼äººç±»å´å
¼ææµ·éçæ²é»ï¼å°ä¸çå§é¹ä¸ç©ºä¸çé³ä¹ã
ããthe fish in the water is silent, the animal on the earth is noisy,
ããthe bird in the air is singing.
ããbut man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and
ããthe music of the air.
ãã44
ããä¸çå¨è¸èºä¹å¿çç´å¼¦ä¸è·è¿å»ï¼å¥åºå¿§éçä¹å£°ã
ããthe world rushes on over the strings of the lingering heart making
ããthe music of sadness.
ãã45
ããä»æä»çååå½ä½ä»çä¸å¸ã
ããå½ä»çååèå©çæ¶åä»èªå·±å´å¤±è´¥äºã
ããhe has made his weapons his gods.
ããwhen his weapons win he is defeated himself.
ãã46
ããç¥ä»åé ä¸æ¾å°ä»èªå·±ã
ããgod finds himself by creating.
ãã47
ããé´å½±æ´ä¸å¥¹çé¢å¹ï¼ç§å¯å°ï¼æ¸©é¡ºå°ï¼ç¨å¥¹çæ²é»çç±çèæ¥ï¼è·å¨âå
âåè¾¹ã
ããshadow, with her veil drawn, follows light in secret meekness,
ããwith her silent steps of love.
ãã48
ãã群æä¸ææ¾å¾è±¡è¤ç«é£æ ·ã
ããthe stars are not afraid to appear like fireflies.
ãã49
ãã谢谢ç¥ï¼æä¸æ¯ä¸ä¸ªæåçè½®åï¼èæ¯è¢«åå¨è¿è½®åä¸ç活人ä¹ä¸ã
ããi thank thee that i am none of the wheels of power but i am one with
ããthe living creatures that are crushed by it.
ãã50
ããå¿æ¯å°éçï¼ä¸æ¯å®½åçï¼å®æ§çå¨æ¯ä¸ç¹ä¸ï¼å´å¹¶ä¸æ´»å¨ã
ããthe mind, sharp but not broad, sticks at every point but does not move.
ãã51
ããä½ çå¶åå§æ£å¨å°åä¸äºï¼è¿å¯è¯æç¥çå°åæ¯ä½ çå¶åè¿ä¼å¤§ã
ããyou idol is shattered in the dust to prove that god's dust is greater
ããthan your idol.
ãã52
ãã人ä¸è½å¨ä»çåå²ä¸è¡¨ç°åºä»èªå·±ï¼ä»å¨åå²ä¸å¥æçé²åºå¤´è§ã
ããman does not reveal himself in his history, he struggles up through it.
ãã53
ããç»çç¯å 为ç¦ç¯å«å®å表å
èè´£å¤ç¦ç¯ãä½ææåºæ¥æ¶ï¼ç»ç
ããç¯å´æ¸©åå°å¾®ç¬çï¼å«ææ为ï¼ï¼ï¼âæ亲ç±çï¼äº²ç±çå§å§ãâ
ããwhile the glass lamp rebukes the earthen for calling it cousin the
ããmoon rises, and the glass lamp, with a bland smile, calls her,---my dear, dear sister.
ãã54
ããæ们å¦æµ·é¸¥ä¹ä¸æ³¢æ¶ç¸éä¼¼å°ï¼éè§äºï¼èµ°è¿äºã海鸥é£å»ï¼æ³¢æ¶æ»æ»å°æµå¼ï¼æ们ä¹åå«äºã
ããlike the meeting of the seagulls and the waves we meet and come near.
ããthe seagulls fly off, the waves roll away and we depart.
ãã55
ããæçç½æ¼å·²ç»å®äºï¼æ象ä¸åªæ³å¨æµ·æ»©ä¸çå°è¹ï¼è°å¬çæ潮跳èçä¹å£°ã
ããmy day is done, and i am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to
ããthe dance-music of the tide in the evening.
ãã56
ããæ们ççå½æ¯å¤©èµçï¼æ们ææç®åºçå½ï¼æè½å¾å°çå½ã
ããlife is given to us, we earn it by giving it.
ãã57
ããå½æ们æ¯å¤§ä¸ºè°¦åçæ¶åï¼ä¾¿æ¯æ们ææ¥è¿ä¼å¤§çæ¶åã
ããwe come nearest to the great when we are great in humility.
ãã58
ãã麻éçè§åéè´æ
çå®çç¿å°¾ï¼æ¿å®æ
忧ã
ããthe sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of its tail.
ãã59
ããå³ä¸è¦å®³æå¹é£ï¼ï¼æ°¸æä¹å£°è¿æ ·å±çã
ããnever be afraid of the moments--thus sings the voice of the everlasting.
ãã60
ããé£äºæ è·¯ä¹ä¸å¯»æ±æçä¹è·¯ï¼åçªç¶å°å¨âæ ä½æä¹å½âç»ä¹äºå®ç追æ±ã
ããthe hurricane seeks the shortest road by the no-road, and suddenly ends
ããits search in the nowhere.
ãã61
ããå¨æèªå·±çæ¯ä¸ï¼é¥®äºæçé
å§ï¼æåã
ããä¸åå¨å«äººçæ¯éï¼è¿é
çè
¾è·³ç泡沫便è¦æ¶å¤±äºã
ããtake my wine in my own cup, friend.
ããit loses its wreath of foam when poured into that of others.
ãã62
ããâå®å
¨â为äºå¯¹âä¸å
¨âçç±ï¼æèªå·±è£
饰å¾ç¾ä¸½ã
ããthe perfect decks itself in beauty for the love of the imperfect.
ãã63
ããç¥å¯¹äººè¯´ï¼âæå»æ²»ä½ æä»¥ä¼¤å®³ä½ ï¼ç±ä½ æ以æ©ç½ä½ ãâ
ããgod says to man, "i heal you therefore i hurt, love you therefore punish."
ãã64
ãã谢谢ç«ç°ç»ä½ å
æï¼ä½æ¯ä¸è¦å¿äºé£æ§ç¯ç人ï¼ä»æ¯åå¿å°ç«å¨é»æå½ä¸å¢ã
ããthank the flame for its light, but do not forget the lampholder
ããstanding in the shade with constancy of patience.
ãã65
ããå°èåï¼ä½ ç足æ¥è½å°ï¼ä½æ¯ä½ æ¥æä½ è¶³ä¸çåå°ã
ããtiny grass, your steps are small, but you possess the earth under
ããyour tread.
ãã66
ããå¹¼è±çèè¾å¼æ¾äºï¼å®å«éï¼â亲ç±çä¸çåï¼è¯·ä¸è¦èè°¢äºãâ
ããthe infant flower opens its bud and cries, "dear world, please do not
ããfade."
ãã67
ããç¥å¯¹äºé£äºå¤§å¸å½ä¼æå°åæ¶ï¼å´å³ä¸ä¼åæ¶é£äºå°å°çè±æµã
ããgod grows weary of great kingdoms, but never of little flowers.
ãã68
ããé误ç»ä¸èµ·å¤±è´¥ï¼ä½æ¯ççå´ä¸æ失败ã
ããwrong cannot afford defeat but right can.
ãã69
ããçå¸æå±éï¼âè½ç¶æ¸´è
åªè¦å°è®¸ç水便å¤äºï¼æå´å¾å¿«æ´»å°ç»ä¸äºæçå
¨é¨çæ°´ã i give my whole water in joy,
ããit is enough for the thirsty.
ãã70
ããæé£äºè±æµææ·ä¸å»çé£ä¸éµåæ ä¼æ æ¢çç欢大åçå²å¿ï¼å
¶æºæ³æ¯å¨åªéå¢ï¼
ããwhere is the fountain that throws up these flowers in a ceaseless
ããoutbreak of ecstasy?
ãã71
ãã樵夫çæ§å¤´ï¼é®æ è¦æ§æã
ããæ 便ç»äºä»ã
ããthe woodcutter's axe begged for its handle from the tree.
ããthe tree gave it.
ãã72
ããè¿å¯¡ç¬çé»æï¼å¹çé¾ä¸é¨ï¼æå¨æçå¿çå¤å¯éï¼æè§å°å®çå¹æ¯ã
ããin my solitude of heart i feel the sigh of this widowed evening veiled
ããwith mist and rain.
ãã73
ããè´ææ¯ä»ä¸°å¯çç±æ
ä¸çåºæ¥çè´¢å¯ã
ããchastity is a wealth that comes from abundance of love.
ãã74
ããé¾ï¼è±¡ç±æ
ä¸æ ·ï¼å¨å±±å³°çå¿ä¸æ¸¸æï¼çåºç§ç§ç¾ä¸½çåå¹»ã
ããthe mist, like love, plays upon the heart of the hills and bring out
ããsurprises of beauty.
ãã75
ããæ们æä¸ççéäºï¼å说å®æ¬ºéªæ们ã
ããwe read the world wrong and say that it deceives us.
ãã76
ããè¯äººï¼ï¼é£é£ï¼æ£åºç»æµ·æ´æ£®æï¼è¿½æ±å®èªå·±çæ声ã
ããthe poet wind is out over the sea and the forest to seek his own voice.
ãã77
ããæ¯ä¸ä¸ªå©ååºçæ¶é½å¸¦æ¥ä¿¡æ¯è¯´ï¼ç¥å¯¹äººå¹¶æªç°å¿å¤±æã
ããevery child comes with the message that god is not yet discouraged of man.
ãã78
ãã绿èæ±å¥¹å°ä¸çä¼´ä¾£ã
ããæ æ¨æ±ä»å¤©ç©ºçå¯å¯ã
ããthe grass seeks her crowd in the earth.
ããthe tree seeks his solitude of the sky.
ãã79
ãã人对ä»èªå·±å»ºçèµ·å ¤é²æ¥ã
ããman barricades against himself.
ãã80
ããæçæåï¼ä½ çè¯å£°é£è¡å¨æçå¿éï¼è±¡é£æµ·æ°´çä½å声ç»ç¼å¨éå¬ççæ¾æä¹é´ã
ããyour voice, my friend, wanders in my heart, like the muffled sound
ããof the sea among these listening pines.
ãã81
ããè¿ä¸ªä¸å¯è§çé»æä¹ç«ç°ï¼ä»¥ç¹æ为å
¶ç«è±çï¼å°åºæ¯ä»ä¹å¢ï¼
ããwhat is this unseen flame of darkness whose sparks are the stars?
ãã82
ãã使çå¦å¤è±ä¹ç»çï¼æ»å¦ç§å¶ä¹éç¾ã
ããlet life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.
ãã83
ããé£æ³å好人çï¼å¨é¨å¤æ²çé¨ï¼é£ç±äººççè§é¨æå¼çã
ããhe who wants to do good knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the
ããgate open.
ãã84
ããå¨æ»çæ¶åï¼ä¼å¤åè为ä¸ï¼å¨ççæ¶åï¼ä¸å为ä¼å¤ã
ããç¥æ»äºçæ¶åï¼å®æ便å°åè为ä¸ã
ããin death the many becomes one; in life the one becomes many.
ããreligion will be one when god is dead.
ãã85
ããèºæ¯å®¶æ¯èªç¶çæ
人ï¼æ以ä»æ¯èªç¶ç奴é¶ï¼ä¹æ¯èªç¶ç主人ã
ããthe artist is the lover of nature, therefore he is her slave and her
ããmaster.
ãã86
ããâä½ ç¦»ææå¤è¿å¢ï¼æå®åï¼â
ããâæèå¨ä½ å¿éå¢ï¼è±åãâ how far are you from me, o fruit?i am hidden in your heart, o flower.
ãã87
ããè¿ä¸ªæ¸´ææ¯ä¸ºäºé£ä¸ªå¨é»å¤éæè§å¾å°ï¼å¨å¤§ç½å¤©éå´çä¸è§ç人ã
ããthis longing is for the one who is felt in the dark, but not seen
ããin the day.
ãã88
ããé²ç 对æ¹æ°´è¯´éï¼âä½ æ¯å¨è·å¶ä¸é¢ç大é²ç ï¼ææ¯å¨è·å¶ä¸é¢çè¾å°çé²ç ãâ you are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, i am the smaller
ããone on its upper side," said the dewdrop to the lake.
ãã89
ããåéä¿æ¤åçéå©ï¼å®èªå·±å满足äºå®çè¿éã
ããthe scabbard is content to be dull when it protects the keenness of
ããthe sword.
ãã90
ããå¨é»æä¸ï¼âä¸âè§å¦ä¸ä½ï¼å¨å
亮ä¸ï¼âä¸â便è§å¦ä¼å¤ã å¨éå¬ççæ¾æä¹é´ã
ããin darkness the one appears as uniform; in the light the one appears
ããas manifold.
ãã91
ãã大å°åå©äºç»¿èï¼æ¾åºå¥¹èªå·±çæ®·å¤å¥½å®¢ã
ããthe great earth makes herself hospitable with the help of the grass.
ãã92
ãã绿å¶ççä¸æ»ä¹æ¯æé£çæ¥éª¤çæ转ï¼å®çæ´å¹¿å¤§çæ转çååä¹æ¯å¨å¤©ä¸ç¹æä¹é´å¾ç¼ç转å¨ã
ããthe birth and death of the leaves are the rapid whirls of the eddy
ããwhose wider circles move slowly among stars.
ãã93
ããæå¿å¯¹ä¸ç说éï¼âä½ æ¯æçãâ
ããä¸ç便ææå¿åç¦å¨å¥¹çå®åº§ä¸é¢ã
ããç±æ
对ä¸ç说éï¼âææ¯ä½ çãâ
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以å¨å®å±å
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ããpower said to the world, "you are mine."
ããthe world kept it prisoner on her throne.
ããlove said to the world, "i am thine."
ããthe world gave it the freedom of her house.
ãã94
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ããthe mist is like the earth's desire.
ããit hides the sun for whom she cries.
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ããbe still, my heart, these great trees are prayers.
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