Lily4ever

Day 1 If, by some miracle, I were granted three seeing days, to be followed by a relapse into darkness, I should divide the period into three parts. On the first day, I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Ann Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult task of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often. I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that 'window of the soul,' the eye. I can only 'see' through my fingertips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities, of course, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them, through watching their reactions to various expressions and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance. Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of casual friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my fingertips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand. How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that? For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they so not know. And, inci’dentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements. The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately 'eyewitnesses' see. A given event will be 'seen' in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision. Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days! The first day would be a busy one. I should call to me all my dear friends and look long into their faces, imprinting upon my mind the outward evidence of the beauty that is within them. I should let my eyes rest, too, on the face of a baby, so that I could catch a vision of the eager, innocent beauty which precedes the individual consciousness of the conflicts which life develops. And I should like to look into the loyal, trusting eyes of my dogs - the grave, canny little Scottie, Darkie, and the stalwart, understanding Great Dane, Helga, whose warm, tender, and playful friendships are so comforting to me. On that busy first day I should also view the small simple things of my home. I want to see the warm colors in the rugs under my feet, the pictures on the walls, the intimate trifles that transform a house into a home. My eyes would rest respectfully on the books in raised type which I have read, but they would be more eagerly interested in the printed books which seeing people can read, for during the long night of my life the books I have read and those which have been read to me have built themselves into a great shining lighthouse, revealing to me the deepest channels of human life and the human spirit. In the afternoon of that first seeing day, I should take a long walk in the woods and intoxicate my eyes on the beauties of the world of Nature, trying desperately to absorb in a few hours the vast splendor which is constantly unfolding itself to those who can see. On the way home from my woodland my path would lie near a farm so that I might see the patient horses ploughing in the field (perhaps I should see only a tractor!) and the serene content of men living close to the soil. And I should pray for the glory of a colorful sunset. When dusk had fallen, I should experience the double delight of being able to see by artificial light, which the genius of man has created to extend the power of his sight when Nature decrees darkness. In the night of that first day of sight, I should not be able to sleep, so full would be my mind of the memories of the day.

Three Days to See by Helen Keller 假如给我三天光明 （海伦·凯勒） I All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited. Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations, should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets? Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die to-morrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the epicurean motto of 'Eat, drink, and be merry,' but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death. In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do. Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life. The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our facilities and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill. I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound. Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. 'Nothing in particular,' she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing people see little. How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool waters of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my fingertips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life. If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in 'How to Use Your Eyes'. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties. II Perhaps I can best illustrate by imagining what I should most like to see if I was given the use of my eyes, say, for just three days. And while I am imagining, suppose you, too, set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three days to see. If with the oncoming darkness if the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon? I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.海伦·凯勒（Helen Keller，1880 －1968），美国著名的女作家、教育家、慈善家、社会活动家。在19个月时因患急性胃充血、脑充血而被夺去视力和听力。1899年6月考入哈佛大学拉德克利夫女子学院。1968年6月1日逝世，享年87岁，却有86年生活在无光、无声的世界里。在此时间里，她先后完成了14本著作。其中最著名的有：《假如给我三天光明》《我的人生故事》《石墙故事》。她致力于为残疾人造福，建立了许多慈善机构，1964年荣获“总统自由勋章”，次年入选美国《时代周刊》评选的“二十世纪美国十大偶像”之一。

On Joy and Sorrowby Kahill Gilbran欢乐与忧伤---纪伯伦Then a woman said, “Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.”And he answered: Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.And the selfsame well fromWhich your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.一位妇人说：请给我们谈谈欢乐和忧伤。他回答：你们的欢乐是无法掩饰的忧伤。你欢笑的泉眼常常也饱含着泪水。And how else can it be?The deeper that sorrow carves into your being.The more joy you can contain.Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cupThat was burned in the potter’s oven?And is not the lute that soothes your spirit,The very wood that was hollowed with knives?除此之外，又当如何？镌刻在你们身上的忧伤愈深，你们能盛装的欢乐愈多。斟满了美酒的杯盏，难道不是曾在陶工炉火中锻造的杯盏吗？When you are joyous, look deep into your heart andYou shall find it is only that which has givenYou sorrow that is giving you joy.When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,And you shall see that in truth you are weeping forThat which has been your delight.当你们快乐时，审视自己的内心，你们会发现曾经的忧伤如今却让你们快乐。当你们忧伤时，再次审视自己的内心，你们会发现曾经的快乐如今却让你们流泪。Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”But I say unto you, they are inseparable.Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.你们中有些人说：“欢乐胜于忧伤。”另一些人则说：“不，忧伤更伟大。”但我要说，他们是相辅相成的。它们一同降临，当其中一个单独与你同坐时，记住另一个正在你的床上安歇。Verily you are suspended like scalesBetween your sorrow and your joy.Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weighHis gold and his silver, needs must yourJoy or your sorrow rise or fall.的确，你们就像在忧伤与欢乐之间摇摆不定的天平。只有当你们彻底空虚时，你们才能平衡稳定。把你浮沉不定的快乐和悲伤都留给那用你来称量金银的守财奴吧。Kahill Gilbran:纪·哈·纪伯伦（1883-1931）黎巴嫩作家、诗人、画家，是阿拉伯文学的主要奠基人，被称为艺术天才、黎巴嫩文坛骄子。其主要作品有《泪与笑》《先知》《沙与沫》等，纪伯伦、鲁迅和拉宾德拉纳特·泰戈尔一样是近代东方文学走向世界的先驱。

These Things Shall Never Dieby Charles DickensThe pure, the bright, the beautiful,That stirred our hearts in youth,The impulses to wordless prayer,The dreams of love and truth;The longing after something's lost,The spirit's yearning cry,The striving after better hopes-These things can never die.The timid hand stretched forth to aidA brother in his need,A kindly word in grief's dark hourThat proves a friend indeed ;The plea for mercy softly breathed,When justice threatens nigh,The sorrow of a contrite heart-These things shall never die.Let nothing pass for every handMust find some work to do;Lose not a chance to waken love-Be firm, and just ,and true;So shall a light that cannot fadeBeam on thee from on high.And angel voices say to thee---These things shall never die.这些美好不会消逝查尔斯·狄更斯一切纯洁的、辉煌的、美丽的，强烈地震撼着我们年轻的心灵，推动着我们做无言的祷告，让我们梦想着爱与真理；在失去后感到珍惜的，使灵魂深切地呼喊着，为了更美好的梦想而奋斗着——这些美好不会消逝。羞怯地伸出援助的手，在你的兄弟需要的时候，伤痛、困难的时候，一句亲切的话就足以证明朋友的真心；轻声地祈求怜悯，在审判临近的时候，懊悔的心有一种伤感，这些美好不会消逝。在人间传递温情，尽你所能地去做；别错失了唤醒爱的良机——为人要坚定，正直，忠诚；因此上方照耀着你的那道光芒就不会消失。你将听到天使的声音在说——这些美好不会消逝。查尔斯·狄更斯（Charles Dickens）：1812－1870，英国著名作家。主要作品有《大卫·科波菲尔》《匹克威克外传》《雾都孤儿》 《老古玩店》《艰难时世》《我们共同的朋友》《双城记》等。

One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVIIby Pablo Neruda I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadow and the soul.I love you as the plant that never bloomsbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;so I love you because I know no other waythan this: where I do not exist, nor you,so close that your hand on my chest is mine,so close that your eyes close with my dreams.第17首十四行诗巴勃罗·聂鲁达(覃学岚 译) 我爱你，但不会像爱刺激的玫瑰、黄玉或者康乃馨火舌般的花蕊那样。我爱你，像爱某些隐秘可爱的东西那样，在阴影与灵魂之间，偷偷地爱你。我爱你，就像爱从不开花，身上却透着看不见的花的光芒的植物那样；由于你的爱，某种纯真的香味自大地升起，隐隐活在我体内。我爱你，对爱的方式，时间，起点概不知晓。我爱你，爱得直截了当，既不复杂也不骄傲；我爱你，因为除了爱你，我不知道别的办法：你我形影相随，唇齿相依，亲密得我胸口上你与我的手莫辨彼此，亲密得我进入梦乡，你也会双眼紧闭。

The Road Not Taken BY ROBERT FROSTTwo roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo where it bent in the undergrowth;Then took the other, as just as fair,And having perhaps the better claim,Because it was grassy and wanted wear;Though as for that the passing thereHad worn them really about the same,And both that morning equally layIn leaves no step had trodden black.Oh, I kept the first for another day!Yet knowing how way leads on to way,I doubted if I should ever come back.I shall be telling this with a sighSomewhere ages and ages hence:Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,And that has made all the difference.未选择的路（罗伯特·弗罗斯特）黄色的树林里分出两条路可惜我不能同时去涉足我在那路口久久伫立我向着一条路极目望去直到它消失在丛林深处但我却选择了另外一条路它荒草萋萋，十分幽寂显得更诱人，更美丽虽然在这条小路上很少留下旅人的足迹那天清晨落叶满地两条路都未经脚印污染呵，留下一条路等改日再见但我知道路径延绵无尽头恐怕我难以再回返也许多少年后在某个地方，我将轻声叹息将往事回顾：一片树林里分出两条路——而我选择了人迹更少的一条，从此决定了我一生的道路。《未选择的路》是美国著名诗人罗伯特·弗罗斯特的著名诗篇。罗伯特·弗罗斯特堪称美国20世纪90年代最受欢迎的诗人之一，是美国非官方的桂冠诗人，他一生致力于诗歌的创作，主要写作并出版了10部诗集，这一首是其第三部诗集《山的间隔》中的名篇。

Hanover Square Can it really be sixty-two years ago that I first saw you? It is truly a lifetime, I know. But as I gaze into your eyes now, it seems like only yesterday that I first saw you, in that small cafe in Hanover Square. From the moment I saw you smile, as you opened the door for that young mother and her newborn baby. I knew. I knew that I wanted to share the rest of my life with you. I still think of how foolish I must have looked, as I gazed at you, that first time. I remember watching you intently, as you took off your hat and loosely shook your short dark hair with your fingers. I felt myself becoming immersed in your every detail, as you placed your hat on the table and cupped your hands around the hot cup of tea, gently blowing the steam away with your pouted lips. From that moment, everything seemed to make perfect sense to me. The people in the cafe and the busy street outside all disappeared into a hazy blur. All I could see was you. All through my life I have relived that very first day. Many, many times I have sat and thought about that the first day, and how for a few fleeting moments I am there, feeling again what is like to know true love for the very first time. It pleases me that I can still have those feelings now after all those years, and I know I will always have them to comfort me. Not even as I shook and trembled uncontrollably in the trenches, did I forget your face. I would sit huddled into the wet mud, terrified, as the hails of bullets and mortars crashed down around me. I would clutch my rifle tightly to my heart, and think again of that very first day we met. I would cry out in fear, as the noise of war beat down around me. But, as I thought of you and saw you smiling back at me, everything around me would be become silent, and I would be with you again for a few precious moments, far from the death and destruction. It would not be until I opened my eyes once again, that I would see and hear the carnage of the war around me. I cannot tell you how strong my love for you was back then, when I returned to you on leave in the September, feeling battered, bruised and fragile. We held each other so tight I thought we would burst. I asked you to marry me the very same day and I whooped with joy when you looked deep into my eyes and said "yes" to being my bride. I'm looking at our wedding photo now, the one on our dressing table, next to your jewellery box. I think of how young and innocent we were back then. I remember being on the church steps grinning like a Cheshire cat, when you said how dashing and handsome I looked in my uniform. The photo is old and faded now, but when I look at it, I only see the bright vibrant colors of our youth. I can still remember every detail of the pretty wedding dress your mother made for you, with its fine delicate lace and pretty pearls. If I concentrate hard enough, I can smell the sweetness of your wedding bouquet as you held it so proudly for everyone to see. I remember being so over enjoyed, when a year later, you gently held my hand to your waist and whispered in my ear that we were going to be a family. I know both our children love you dearly; they are outside the door now, waiting. Do you remember how I panicked like a mad man when Jonathon was born? I can still picture you laughing and smiling at me now, as I clumsily held him for the very first time in my arms. I watched as your laughter faded into tears, as I stared at him and cried my own tears of joy. Sarah and Tom arrived this morning with little Tessie. Can you remember how we both hugged each other tightly when we saw our tiny granddaughter for the first time? I can't believe she will be eight next month. I am trying not to cry, my love, as I tell you how beautiful she looks today in her pretty dress and red shiny shoes, she reminds me so much of you that first day we met. She has her hair cut short now, just like yours was all those years ago. When I met her at the door her smile wrapped around me like a warm glove, just like yours used to do, my darling. I know you are tired, my dear, and I must let you go. But I love you so much and it hurts to do so. As we grew old together, I would tease you that you had not changed since we first met. But it is true, my darling. I do not see the wrinkles and grey hair that other people see. When I look at you now, I only see your sweet tender lips and youthful sparkling eyes as we sat and had out first picnic next to that small stream, and chased each other around that big old oak tree. I remember wishing those first few days together would last forever. Do you remember how exciting and wonderful those days were? I must go now, my darling. Our children are waiting outside. They want to say goodbye to you. I wipe the tears away from my eyes and bend my frail old legs down to the floor, so that I can kneel beside you. I lean close to you and take hold of your hand and kiss your tender lips for the very last time. Sleep peacefully my dear. I am sad that you had to leave me, but please don't worry. I am content, knowing I will be with you soon. I am too old and too empty now to live much longer without you. I know it won't be long before we meet again in that small cafe in Hanover Square. Goodbye, my darling wife. 追忆似水年华我们初次相遇，难道真的是六十二年前吗？年华似水，倏忽间我们已相携一世。望着你的眼睛，当年的邂逅历历如在昨昔，就在汉诺威广场的那间小咖啡馆里。...我明白，亲爱的，你累了，我应该让你离开。可是爱人即逝，孤侣何伤！...亲爱的，安心地睡吧。这分离扯碎了我的心。别担心，我很快就会来陪伴你。生死茫茫，尘世间没有你，这满腔的衷肠凭谁倾诉？很快，我们就能在汉诺威广场的那间小咖啡馆里再相逢。再会了，我的爱妻。

Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines by Pablo Neruda （1904 ～ 1973，智利著名诗人。其早期的诗集《二十首情诗和一首绝望的歌》被认为是他最著名的作品之一。著名诗作包括《我喜欢你是寂静的》、《似水年华》等。）Tonight I can write the saddest lines.Write, for example,The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance.The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.Tonight I can write the saddest lines.And I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.How could one not have loved her great still eyes.Tonight I can write the saddest lines.To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.To hear immense night, still more immense without her.And the verse falls to the soul like dew to a pasture. What does it matter that my love could not keep her.The night is shattered and she is not with me.This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance，My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.My sight searches for her as though to go to her.My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.The same night whitening the same trees.We, of that time, are no longer the same.I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.Love is so short, forgetting is so long.Because through nights like this one I held her in my armsmy soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.Though this be the last pain that she makes me sufferand these be the last verses that I write for her.爱那么短，遗忘那么长 by 聂鲁达今夜我可以写下最哀伤的诗句比如写下，“夜色零落,蓝色的星光在远方颤抖"夜风在天空中回旋吟唱今夜我可以写下最哀伤的诗句我爱过她，而且有时她也爱我多少个如今的晚上，我曾拥她入怀在无垠的天空下一遍又一遍的吻她她爱过我，有时我也爱她我怎么能不爱上她那一双沉静的双眼今夜我可以写下最哀伤的诗句我不再拥有她，因为我已失去她聆听广阔的夜空，因为没有她而更加广阔而诗句坠在灵魂上，如同露水坠在牧草上我的爱留不住她，那又有什么关系?夜色零落，而她不在我身边这就是一切了，远处有人唱着歌我的灵魂因失去了她而失落我用目光搜寻她，像要向她靠近我用心寻找她，她却不在我身边相同的夜让相同的树林泛白彼时，我们也不再相似如初我不再爱她，这是确定的，但我曾经多么爱她我的声音试着找寻风来触碰她的听觉别人的，她将会是别人的，如同我从前的吻她的声音，她洁白的身体，她深邃的眸子我不再爱她，这是确定的，但也许我还爱着她爱那么短，而遗忘那么长因为多少个如今夜的晚上，我曾拥她入怀我的灵魂因为失去了她而失落这是她最后一次让我承受伤痛而这些，是我最后一次为她写下的诗句

Lost Time （选自泰戈尔荣获诺贝尔文学奖之作《吉檀迦利》） by TagoreOn many an idle day have I grieved over lost time.But it is never lost, my lord.Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts,buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased.In the morning I woke upand found my garden full with wonders of flowers.逝去的时光by 泰戈尔 （冰心 译）在许多闲散的⽇⼦里，我悼惜着虚度了的光阴。但是光阴并没有虚度，我的主。你掌握了我⽣命⾥⼨寸的光阴。你潜藏在万物的⼼里，培育着种子发芽，蓓蕾绽红，花落结实。我困乏了，在闲榻上睡眠，想象⼀一切工作都已停歇。早晨醒来，我发现我的园里，却开遍了异蕊奇花。

I Carry Your Heart with Me by E. E. Cummings (1894-1962，美国著名诗人、作家)I carry your heart with me I carry it in my heart I am never without it anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling I fear no fate for you are my fate, my sweet I want no world for beautiful you are my world, my true and it's you are whatever a moon has always meantand whatever a sun will always sing is youhere's the deepest secret nobody knows here's the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky and of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart I carry your heart I carry it in my heart本诗用词简洁，娓娓道来，表达了诗人失去挚爱后的深切思念。感谢热心听友Shepherd13推荐此诗。

Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley（雪莱，1792 - 1822，英国著名浪漫主义诗人）The fountains mingle with the riverAnd the rivers with the ocean,The winds of heaven mix foreverWith a sweet emotion;Nothing in the world is single,All things by a law divineIn one another's being mingle—Why not I with thine?See the mountains kiss high heavenAnd the waves clasp one another;No sister-flower would be forgivenIf it disdain'd its brother;And the sunlight clasps the earth,And the moonbeams kiss the sea—What are all these kissings worth,If thou kiss not me?爱的哲学 by 雪莱泉水汇入溪流,溪流汇入海洋,天际缕缕清风总是交织而至,甜蜜涌动;这世上没有什么是形单影只的,万物都遵循一条神圣的定律,相存相依——你我何不如此?你看山川亲吻高天,朵朵浪花相依相拥;花儿也如兄弟姐妹般相亲相爱,不嫌弃彼此;阳光与大地相拥,月光亲吻着海洋——这一切亲吻有何意义,倘若你不肯吻我?

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe（埃德加·爱伦·坡，1809-1849，美国十九世纪著名诗人、短篇小说家、文学评论家，在世界文坛享有不朽地位，被誉为“永为世人共赏的伟大抒情诗人”。《安娜贝尔·丽》为悼念亡妻而作，是美国抒情诗中的上乘佳作。这是诗人爱伦·坡1849年死后才发表的最后一篇诗作，代表其唯美主义风格的顶峰。）It was many and many a year ago,In a kingdom by the sea,That a maiden there lived whom you may knowBy the name of ANNABEL LEE;And this maiden she lived with no other thoughtThan to love and be loved by me.I was a child and she was a child,In this kingdom by the sea;But we loved with a love that was more than love -I and my Annabel Lee;With a love that the winged seraphs of heavenCoveted her and me.And this was the reason that, long ago,In this kingdom by the sea,A wind blew out of a cloud, chillingMy beautiful Annabel Lee;So that her highborn kinsman cameAnd bore her away from me,To shut her up in a sepulchreIn this kingdom by the sea.The angels, not half so happy in heaven,Went envying her and me-Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,In this kingdom by the sea)That the wind came out of the cloud by night,Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.But our love - it was stronger by far than the loveOf those who were older than we-Of many far wiser than we-And neither the angels in heaven above,Nor the demons down under the sea,Can ever dissever my soul from the soulOf the beautiful Annabel Lee.For the moon never beams without bringing me dreamsOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And the stars never rise - but I feel the bright eyesOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the sideOf my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,In her sepulchre there by the sea,In her tomb by the sounding sea.安娜贝尔·丽 by 埃德加•爱伦•坡 (长风 译)多年以前，在一个海边的王国里，住着一位姑娘，也许你曾听说，她名叫安娜贝尔·丽——她唯一的心思，就是她与我的情意。那时她和我都很年轻，在海边的那个王国里，我俩山盟海誓——我和我的安娜贝尔·丽——连天堂的六翼天使对她和我也心生妒意。正因如此，多年以前，在海边的那个王国里，从云间吹来的凉风冻死我的安娜贝尔·丽；于是她显贵的亲戚把她从我身旁带离，埋入石凿的墓地，就在海边的那个王国里。天堂里毫无快乐的天使对她和我一直心存妒意；对！正因如此（在海边那个王国里众所周知）夜里从云间吹来的凉风，冻死我的安娜贝尔·丽。但我俩的柔情蜜意，更年长人的爱不可比拟—— 更聪明人的情无法相提——无论是天堂里的天使还是海底的鬼蜮，都不能使我们的灵魂分离，我和我的安娜贝尔·丽—— 因为在月华光照的梦里总有我美丽的安娜贝尔·丽；在星斗闪烁的夜里总有她那明亮的眼睛；所以每当夜深人静，我都和她躺在一起，而她，我的爱, 我的生命，我的娇妻躺在海边的石棺里——在怒海边的墓地。

Love at first sight by Wislawa Szymborska (维斯瓦娃·辛波丝卡，1923-2012，波兰女作家，1996年诺贝尔文学奖得主）They're both convinced that a sudden passion joined them. Such certainty is beautiful, But uncertainty is more beautiful still Since they'd never met before, they're sure that there had been nothing between them. But what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways— Perhaps they've passed each other a million times? I want to ask them If they can remember— A moment face to face in some revolving door? Perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd? A curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver? But I know the answer. No, they don't remember They'd be amazed to hear that Chance has been toying with them now for years. Not quite ready yet to become their Destiny, it pushed them close, drove them apart, it barred their path, stifling a laugh, and then leaped aside. There were signs and signals, Even if they couldn't read them yet. Perhaps three years ago Or just last Tuesday A certain leaf fluttered from one shoulder to another? Something was dropped and then picked up. Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished into childhood's thicket? There were doorknobs and doorbells Where one touch had covered another Beforehand. Suitcases checked and standing side by side. One night, perhaps, the same dream, Grown hazy by morning. Every beginning Is only a sequel, after all, And the book of events Is always open halfway through. 一见钟情 by 维斯瓦娃·辛波丝卡他们两人都相信 是瞬间迸发的热情让他俩交会。 这样的笃定是美丽的， 但变化无常更是美丽。 既然从未见过面，所以他们确定 彼此并无任何瓜葛。 但是听听自街道、楼梯、走廊传出的话语 他俩或许擦肩而过一百万次了吧？ 我想问他们 是否记得一 在旋转门 面对面那一刻？ 或者在人群中喃喃说出的“对不起”？ 或者在听筒截获的唐突的“打错了”？ 然而我早知他们的答案。 是的，他们记不得了。 他们会感到诧异，倘若得知 缘分已玩弄他们 多年。 尚未完全做好 成为他们命运的准备， 缘分将他们推近，驱离， 憋住笑声 阻挡他们的去路， 然后闪到一边。 有一些迹象和信号存在， 即使他们尚无法解读。 也许在三年前 或者就在上个星期二 有某片叶子飘舞于 肩与肩之间？ 有某个东西掉了又捡了起来? 天晓得，也许是那个 消失于童年灌木丛中的球？ 还有事前已被触摸 层层覆盖的 门把和门铃。 检查完毕后并排放置的手提箱。 有一晚，也许同样的梦， 到了早晨就变得模糊。 每个开始 毕竟都只是续篇， 而充满情节的书本 总是从一半开始看起。

A Tear and A Smile 眼泪和微笑 by Khalil Gibran 纪伯伦著 长风译I would not exchange the sorrows of my heartFor the joys of the multitude.And I would not have the tears that sadness makesTo flow from my every part turn into laughter.I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.我不愿用世俗的欢娱来换取内心的悲戚；也不愿让我忧伤的眼泪变成浅薄的嬉笑。我宁愿生活里有眼泪也有微笑。A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding.Of life's secrets and hidden things.A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind andTo be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.眼泪纯净内心，让我明白生活的奥秘；微笑带来良友，是我荣耀上帝的印记。A tear to unite me with those of broken heart;A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.眼泪使我体会心碎之人的忧伤；微笑是我快乐生活的模样。I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live Weary and despairing.与其在绝望和挣扎中苟活，不如在希翼和盼望中死亡。I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in theDepths of my spirit, for I have seen those who areSatisfied the most wretched of people.I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and Longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.我渴慕爱情，崇尚完美，因为邪恶使人肮脏污秽。我听过充满渴望的轻唱，它胜过世上最美的乐章。With evening's coming the flower folds her petalsAnd sleeps, embracing her longing.At morning's approach she opens her lips to meetThe sun's kiss.The life of a flower is longing and fulfillment.A tear and a smile.夜幕降临，花儿紧锁心房，拥抱着盼望进入梦乡。晨曦初露，花儿轻启香唇，接受太阳的亲吻。在花儿渴望和满足的生命里，有眼泪和微笑的哲理。The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and comeTogether and area cloud.And the cloud floats above the hills and valleysUntil it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weepingTo the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to Return to the sea, its home.The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.A tear and a smile.大海的水汽蒸发，汇集成云彩。它飘过丘陵和山谷，在和风吹拂下滋生雨露，雨露飘落大地，汇成小溪和河流，奔回大海，它自己的家乡。云彩离别和重逢的经历，有眼泪和微笑的哲理。And so does the spirit become separated fromThe greater spirit to move in the world of matterAnd pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrowAnd the plains of joy to meet the breeze of deathAnd return whence it came.To the ocean of Love and Beauty----to God.人的灵魂如同云彩，他告别自己的居所来到大千世界，飘过忧伤的高山，和喜乐的平原。面对死亡的微风，他坦然回乡，那是充满爱和美的海洋，那是上帝的胸膛。

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love by Christopher MarloweCome live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields.And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals.And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant poises, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold;A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love.The shepherds's swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love.牧羊恋歌 by 克里斯托夫·马洛来做我的爱人，同我一起生活， 我们将体验所有的欢乐， 河谷原野向我们祝福， 崇山峻岭为我们庆贺。我们依傍岩石席地而坐， 看牧羊人守望羊群悠然自得， 在那清澈的溪涧旁边， 鸟儿伴着飞瀑唱起婉转的情歌。我用玫瑰为你铺床， 采来一千只芬芳的花朵， 为你编织花冠、彩裙， 桃金娘叶片用作衬托。可爱的羊羔身上剪下绒毛， 为你织出精美的衣着， 漂亮的花鞋衬里御寒， 纯金的带扣光芒闪烁。腰带是吐芽的长青藤与芳草， 纽带是珊瑚扣环是琥珀： 如果这些赏心乐事能打动你的芳心， 来做我的爱人，同我一起生活。多情的牧羊少年为博取你的青睐， 每逢五月的清晨会起舞高歌： 如果这些赏心乐事能打动你的芳心， 来做我的爱人，同我一起生活。

Born As Summer Flowers by TagoreLife, thin and light-off time and time againFrivolous tireless生如夏花 by 泰戈尔 （郑振铎 译）生命，一次又一次轻薄过轻狂不知疲倦　　 ——题记oneI heard the echo, from the valleys and the heartOpen to the lonely soul of sickle harvestingRepeat outrightly, but also repeat the well-being ofEventually swaying in the desert oasisI believe I amBorn as the bright summer flowersDo not withered undefeated fiery demon ruleHeart rate and breathing to bear the load of the cumbersomeBored我听见回声，来自山谷和心间以寂寞的镰刀收割空旷的灵魂不断地重复决绝，又重复幸福终有绿洲摇曳在沙漠我相信自己生来如同璀璨的夏日之花不凋不败，妖冶如火承受心跳的负荷和呼吸的累赘乐此不疲TwoI heard the music, from the moon and carcassAuxiliary extreme aestheticism bait to capture mistyFilling the intense life, but also filling the pureThere are always memories throughout the earthI believe I amDied as the quiet beauty of autumn leavesSheng is not chaos, smoke gestureEven wilt also retained bone proudly Qing Feng muscleOccult我听见音乐，来自月光和胴体辅极端的诱饵捕获飘渺的唯美一生充盈着激烈，又充盈着纯然总有回忆贯穿于世间　　我相信自己死时如同静美的秋日落叶不盛不乱，姿态如烟即便枯萎也保留丰肌清骨的傲然玄之又玄ThreeI hear love, I believe in loveLove is a pool of struggling blue-green algaeAs desolate micro-burst of windBleeding through my veinsYears stationed in the belief我听见爱情，我相信爱情爱情是一潭挣扎的蓝藻如同一阵凄微的风穿过我失血的静脉驻守岁月的信念FourI believe that all can hearEven anticipate discrete, I met the other their ownSome can not grasp the momentLeft to the East to go West, the dead must not return to nowhereSee, I wear Zan Flowers on my head, in full bloom along the way all the wayFrequently missed some, but also deeply moved by wind, frost, snow or rain我相信一切能够听见甚至预见离散，遇见另一个自己而有些瞬间无法把握任凭东走西顾，逝去的必然不返　　请看我头置簪花，一路走来一路盛开频频遗漏一些，又深陷风霜雨雪的感动FivePrajna Paramita, soon as soon aslife be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leavesAlso care about what has般若波罗蜜，一声一声生如夏花，死如秋叶还在乎拥有什么

I like for you to be still by NerudaI like for you to be still: it is as though you were absentand you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch youIt seems as though your eyes had flown awayand it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouthAs all things are filled with my soulyou emerge from the things, filled with my soulYou are like my soul, a butterfly of dreamand you are like the word Melancholy I like for you to be still, and you seem far awayIt sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a doveAnd you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach youLet me come to be still in your silenceAnd let me talk to you with your silencethat is bright as a lamp, simple as a ringYou are like the night, with its stillness and constellationsYour silence is that of a star, as remote and candid I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absentdistant and full of sorrow, as though you had diedOne word then, one smile, is enoughAnd I'm happy, happy that it's not true 我喜欢你是寂静的 by 聂鲁达我喜欢你是寂静的，仿佛你消失了一样，你从远处聆听我，我的声音却无法触及你。好像你的双眼已经飞离去，如同一个吻，封缄了你的嘴。如同所有的事物充满了我的灵魂，你从所有的事物中浮现，充满了我的灵魂。你像我的灵魂，一只梦的蝴蝶。你如同忧郁这个词。 我喜欢你是寂静的，好像你已远去。你听起来像在悲叹，一只如鸽悲鸣的蝴蝶。你从远处听见我，我的声音无法触及你：让我在你的沉默中安静无声。并且让我借你的沉默与你说话，你的沉默明亮如灯，简单如指环，你就像黑夜，拥有寂寞与群星。你的沉默就是星星的沉默，遥远而明亮。 我喜欢你是寂静的，仿佛你消失了一样，遥远而且哀伤，仿佛你已经死了。彼时，一个字，一个微笑，已经足够。而我会觉得幸福，因那不是真的而觉得幸福。

Sonnet 18 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? by William Shakespeare Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. 　　 我可否将你比作夏日 by 威廉·莎士比亚 我可否将你比作夏日 可你更加可爱更加温婉 五月的花朵，风吹满地 夏季的生命，匆匆而逝 有时候，太阳真热，可 又常遮蔽你金色的容颜 美丽，无法抗拒这凋零 流转，也拗不过这自然的代谢 但是你的永恒之夏绝不会褪色 你也不会失去你那俊美的仪容 死神不能夸说你困于他的阴影 你在这不朽的诗句里获得永生 只要我还能听到你，看到你 你就将伴着这诗句永远长存

Down by the Salley Gardens by William Butler YeatsDown by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;She passed the Salley Gardens with little snow-white feet.She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.In a field by the river my love and I did stand,And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.莎丽园/柳园里 by 叶芝经柳园而下，我曾邂逅我的爱，她走过柳园，纤足雪白。 她要我自然去爱，就像树木吐出新芽，但我年少无知，不曾听从她。在河边的田野里，我曾与我的爱人驻足，倾靠在我的肩上，她放下雪白的手。她要我自然地生活，就像堤堰长出青草，但那时我年少无知，如今泪湿衣衫。

The White Birds 浪尖上的白鸟--by William Butler Yeats (威廉.巴特勒.叶芝，1865—1939，是爱尔兰著名诗人、剧作家和散文家，1923年度诺贝尔文学奖得主。)I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee; And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky, Has awakened in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die. 亲爱的，但愿我们是浪尖上一双白鸟！流星尚未陨逝，我们已厌倦了它的闪耀；天边低悬，晨光里那颗蓝星的幽光唤醒了你我心中，一缕不死的忧伤。 A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose; Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes, Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew: For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you! 露湿的百合、玫瑰梦里逸出一丝困倦；呵，亲爱的，可别梦那流星的闪耀，也别梦那蓝星的幽光在滴露中低徊：但愿我们化作浪尖上的白鸟：我和你！I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore, Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more; Soon far from the rose and the lily, and fret of the flames would we be, Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea! 我心头萦绕着无数岛屿和丹南湖滨，在那里岁月会以遗忘我们，悲哀不再来临；转瞬就会远离玫瑰、百合和星光的侵蚀，只要我们是双白鸟，亲爱的，出没在浪花里！