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第5章

沙与沫_纪伯伦-第5章

小说: 沙与沫_纪伯伦 字数: 每页4000字

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a truth is to be known always; to be uttered sometimes。

the real in us is silent; the acquired is talkative。

the voice of life in me cannot reach the ear of life in you; but let us talk that we may not feel lonely。

when two women talk they say nothing; when one woman speaks she reveals all of life。

frogs may bellow louder than bulls; but they cannot drag the plough in the field not turn the wheel of the winepress; and of their skins you cannot make shoes。

only the dumb envy the talkative。

if winter should say; 〃spring is in my heart;〃 who would believe winter?

every seed is a longing。

should you really open your eyes and see; you would behold your image in all images。

and should you open your ears and listen; you would hear your own voice in all voices。

it takes two of us to discover truth: one to utter it and one to understand it。

though the wave of words is forever upon us; yet our depth is forever silent。

many a doctrine is like a window pane。 we see truth through it but it divides us from truth。

now let us play hide and seek。 should you hide in my heart it would not be difficult to find you。 but should you hide behind your own shell; then it would be useless for anyone to seek you。 a woman may veil her face with a smile。

how noble is the sad heart who would sing a joyous song with joyous hearts。

he who would understand a woman; or dissect genius; or solve the mystery of silence is the very man who would wake from a beautiful dream to sit at a breakfast table。

i would walk with all those who walk。 i would not stand still to watch the procession passing by。

you owe more than gold to him who serves you。 give him of your heart or serve him。

nay; we have not lived in vain。 have they not built towers of our bones?

let us not be particular and sectional。 the poets mind and the scorpions 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 down and turn them into paper that we may record our emptiness。

should you care to write (and only the saints know why you should) you must needs have knowledge and art and music  the knowledge of the music of words; the art of being artless; and the magic of loving your readers。

they dip their pens in our hearts and think they are inspired。

should a tree write its autobiography it would not be unlike the history of a race。

if i were to choose between the power of writing a poem and the ecstasy of a poem unwritten; i would choose the ecstasy。 it is better poetry。

but you and all my neighbours agree that i always choose badly。

poetry is not an opinion expressed。 it is a song that rises from a bleeding wound or a smiling mouth。

words are timeless。 you should utter them or write them with a knowledge of their timelessness。

a poet is a dethroned king sitting among the ashes of his palace trying to fashion an image out of the ashes。

poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder; with a dash of the dictionary。

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。 and if indeed you would know my worth it is that i have more in my heart than upon my tongue; and more in my desire than in my hand。〃

if you sing of beauty though alone in the heart of the desert you will have an audience。

poetry is wisdom that enchants the heart。

wisdom is poetry that sings in the mind。

if we could enchant mans heart and at the same time sing in his mind;

then in truth he would live in the shadow of god。

inspiration will always sing; inspiration will never explain。

we often sing lullabies to our children that we ourselves may sleep。

all our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind。

thinking is always the stumbling stone to poetry。

a great singer is he who sings our silences。

how can you sing if your mouth be filled with food?

how shall your hand be raised in blessing if it is filled with gold?

they say the nightingale pierces his bosom with a thorn when he sings his love song。

so do we all。 how else should we sing?

genius is but a robins song at the beginning of a slow spring。

even the most winged spirit cannot escape physical necessity。

a madman is not less a musician than you or myself; only the instrument on which he plays is a little out of tune。

the song that lies silent in the heart of a mother sings upon the lips of her child。

no longing remains unfulfilled。

i have never agreed with my other self wholly。 the truth of the matter seems to lie between us。

your other self is always sorry for you。 but your other self grows on sorrow; so all is well。

there is no struggle of soul and body save in the minds of those whose souls are asleep and whose bodies are out of tune。

when you reach the heart of life you shall find beauty in all things; even in the eyes that are blind to beauty。

we live only to discover beauty。 all else is a form of waiting。

sow a seed and the earth will yield you a flower。 dream your dream to the sky and it will bring you your beloved。

the devil died the very day you were born。

now you do not have to go through hell to meet an angel。

many a woman borrows a mans heart; very few could possess it。

if you would possess you must not claim。

when a mans hand touches the hand of a woman they both touch the heart of eternity。

love is the veil between lover and lover。

every man loves two women; the one is the creation of his imagination; and the other is not yet born。

men who do not forgive women their little faults will never enjoy their great virtues。

love that does not renew itself every day bees a habit and in turn a slavery。

lovers embrace that which is between them rather than each other。

love and doubt have never been on speaking terms。

love is a word of light; written by a hand of light; upon a page of light。

friendship is always a sweet responsibility; never an opportunity。

if you do not understand your friend under all conditions you will never understand him。

your most radiant garment is of the other persons weaving;

you most savoury meal is that which you eat at the other persons table;

your most fortable bed is in the other persons house。

now tell me; how can you separate yourself from the other person?

your mind and my heart will never agree until your mind ceases to live in numbers and my heart in the mist。

we shall never understand one another until we reduce the language to seven words。

how shall my heart be unsealed unless it be broken?

only great sorrow or great joy can reveal your truth。

if you would be revealed you must either dance naked in the sun; or carry your cross。

should nature heed what we say of contentment no river would seek the sea; and no winter would turn to spring。 should she heed all we say of thrift; how many of us would be breathing this air?

you see but your shadow when you turn your back to the sun。

you are free before the sun of the day; and free before the stars of the night;

and you are free when there is no sun and no moon and no star。

you are even free when you close your eyes upon all there is。

but you are a slave to him whom you love because you love him;

and a slave to him who loves you because he loves you。

we are all beggars at the gate of the temple; and each one of us receives his share of the bounty of the king when he enters the temple; and when he goes out。

but we are all jealous of one another; which is another way of belittling the king。

you cannot consume beyond your appetite。 the other half of the loaf belongs to the other person; and there should remain a little bread for the chance guest。

if it were not for your guests all houses would be graves。

said a gracious wolf to a simple sheep; 〃will you not honour our house with a visit?〃

and the sheep answered; 〃we would have been honoured to visit your house if it were not in your stomach。〃

i stopped my guest on the threshold and said; 〃nay; wipe not your feet as you enter; 

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