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第7部分(第4页)

If it were merely a pain it would melt in limpid tears; reflecting its inmost secret without a word。

But it is love; my beloved。

Its pleasure and pain are boundless; and endless its wants and wealth。

It is as near to you as your life; but you can never wholly know it。

The Gardener  29

Speak to me; my love! Tell me in words what you sang。 The night is dark。

The stars are lost in clouds。 The wind is sighing through the leaves。

I will let loose my hair。 My blue cloak will cling round me like night。 I will clasp your head to my bosom,and there in the sweet loneliness murmur on your heart。 I will shut my eyes and listen。 I will not look in your face。

When your words are ended; we will sit still and silent。 Only the trees will whisper in the dark。

The night will pale。 The day will dawn。 We shall look at each others eyes and go on our different paths。

Speak to me; my love! Tell me in words what you sang。

The Gardener  30

You are the evening cloud floating in the sky of my dreams。

I paint you and fashion you ever with my love longings。

You are my own; my own; Dweller in my endless dreams!

Your feet are rosy…red with the glow of my heart’  s desire;

Gleaner of my sunset songs!

Your lips are bitter…sweet with the taste of my wine of pain。

You are my own; my own; Dweller in my lonesome dreams!

With the shadow of my passion have I darkened your eyes; haunter of the depth of my gaze!

I have caught you and wrapt you; my love; in the net of my music。

You are my own; my own; Dweller in my deathless dreams!

The Gardener  31

My heart; the bird of the wilderness; has found its sky in your eyes。

They are the cradle of the morning; they are the kingdom of the stars。

My songs are lost in their depths。

Let me but soar in that sky; in its lonely immensity。

Let me but cleave its clouds and spread wings in its sunshine。

The Gardener  32

Tell me if this be all true; my lover; tell me if this be true。

When these eyes flash their lightning the dark clouds in your breast make stormy answer。

Is it true that my lips are sweet like the opening bud of the first conscious love?

Do the memories of vanished months of May linger in my limbs?

Does the earth; like a harp; shiver into songs with the touch of my feet?

Is it then true that the dewdrops fall from the eyes of night when I am seen; and the morning light is glad when it wraps my body round?

园丁集  第十章(4)

Is it true; is it true; that your love travelled alone through ages and worlds in search of me?

That when you found me at last; your age…long desire found utter peace in my gentle speech and my eyes and lips

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