先知园 第三章（1）（2/2）
《沙与沫》作者：（黎巴嫩）纪伯伦（Gibran… 2017-04-10 19:58
ry came from the people, and it was a cry of remembrance and of entreaty.
And he looked upon his mariners and said,“And what have I brought them? A hunter was I, in a distant land. With aim and might I have spent the golden arrows they gave me, but I have brought down no game. I followed not the arrows. Mayhap they are spreading now in the sun with the pinions of wounded eagles that would not fall to the earth. And mayhap the arrow-heads have fallen into the hands of those who had need of them for bread and wine.
“I know not where they have spent their flight, but this I know: they have made their curve in the sky.
“Even so, love’s hand is still upon me, and you, my mariners, still sail my vision, and I shall not be dumb. I shall cry out when the hand of the seasons is upon my throat, and I shall sing my words when my lips are burned with flames.”
And they were troubled in their hearts because he spoke of these things.And one said,“Master, teach us all, and mayhap because your blood flows in our veins, and our breath is of your fragrance, we shall understand.”
Then he answered them, and the wind was in his voice, and he said, “Brought you me to the isle of my birth to be a teacher? Not yet have I been caged by wisdom. Too young am I and too verdant to speak of aught but self, which is for ever the deep calling upon the deep.
“Let him who would have wisdom seek it in the buttercup or in a pinch of red clay. I am still the singer. Still I shall sing the earth, and I shall sing your lost dre***ng that walks the day between sleep and sleep. But I shall gaze upon the sea.”
And now the ship entered the harbour and reached the seawall, and he came thus to the isle of his birth and stood once more amongst his own people. And a great cry arose from their hearts so that the loneliness of his home-coming was shaken within him.
And they were silent awaiting his word, but he answered them not, for the sadness of memory was upon him, and he said in his heart , “Have I said that I shall sing? Nay, I can but open my lips that the voice of life may come forth and go out to the wind for joy and support.”
Then Karima, she who had played with him, a child, in the Garden of his mother, spoke and said, “Twelve years have you hidden your face from us, and for twelve years have we hungered and thirsted for your voice.”
And he looked upon his mariners and said,“And what have I brought them? A hunter was I, in a distant land. With aim and might I have spent the golden arrows they gave me, but I have brought down no game. I followed not the arrows. Mayhap they are spreading now in the sun with the pinions of wounded eagles that would not fall to the earth. And mayhap the arrow-heads have fallen into the hands of those who had need of them for bread and wine.
“I know not where they have spent their flight, but this I know: they have made their curve in the sky.
“Even so, love’s hand is still upon me, and you, my mariners, still sail my vision, and I shall not be dumb. I shall cry out when the hand of the seasons is upon my throat, and I shall sing my words when my lips are burned with flames.”
And they were troubled in their hearts because he spoke of these things.And one said,“Master, teach us all, and mayhap because your blood flows in our veins, and our breath is of your fragrance, we shall understand.”
Then he answered them, and the wind was in his voice, and he said, “Brought you me to the isle of my birth to be a teacher? Not yet have I been caged by wisdom. Too young am I and too verdant to speak of aught but self, which is for ever the deep calling upon the deep.
“Let him who would have wisdom seek it in the buttercup or in a pinch of red clay. I am still the singer. Still I shall sing the earth, and I shall sing your lost dre***ng that walks the day between sleep and sleep. But I shall gaze upon the sea.”
And now the ship entered the harbour and reached the seawall, and he came thus to the isle of his birth and stood once more amongst his own people. And a great cry arose from their hearts so that the loneliness of his home-coming was shaken within him.
And they were silent awaiting his word, but he answered them not, for the sadness of memory was upon him, and he said in his heart , “Have I said that I shall sing? Nay, I can but open my lips that the voice of life may come forth and go out to the wind for joy and support.”
Then Karima, she who had played with him, a child, in the Garden of his mother, spoke and said, “Twelve years have you hidden your face from us, and for twelve years have we hungered and thirsted for your voice.”