Stray Birds
飞鸟集
罗宾德拉纳特·泰戈尔 রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুর（1861–1941）
1916 年

冷冻图书馆 · 开架书库 · S-004030 · https://coldlibrary.com/s/004030
权利：1916 年出版，作者以英文写成；作者卒于 1941 年。已按澳大利亚、欧盟、英国、中国大陆和美国的规则核对（截至 2026 年 10 月 11 日）。仅供参考，不是法律意见。
来源：Wikisource，https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Stray_Birds（取于 2026-10-11）
中文译文：Claude（AI），2026 · CC0 1.0
生成于 2026-10-14，来自 https://coldlibrary.com/open-stacks/tagore-stray-birds

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1
Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.

2
O troupe of little vagrants of the world, leave your footprints in my words.

3
The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover.
It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal.

4
It is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom.

5
The mighty desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away.

6
If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.

7
The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Will you carry the burden of their lameness?

8
Her wistful face haunts my dreams like the rain at night.

9
Once we dreamt that we were strangers.
We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.

10
Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening among the silent trees.

11
Some unseen fingers, like idle breeze, are playing upon my heart the music of the ripples.

12
“What language is thine, O sea?”
“The language of eternal question.”
“What language is thy answer, O sky?”
“The language of eternal silence.”

13
Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes love to you.

14
The mystery of creation is like the darkness of night—it is great. Delusions of knowledge are like the fog of the morning.

15
Do not seat your love upon a precipice because it is high.

16
I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes.

17
These little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their whisper of joy in my mind.

18
What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow.

19
My wishes are fools, they shout across thy songs, my Master.
Let me but listen.

20
I cannot choose the best.
The best chooses me.

21
They throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on their back.

22
That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.

23
“We, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms, but who are you so silent?”
“I am a mere flower.”

24
Rest belongs to the work as the eyelids to the eyes.

25
Man is a born child, his power is the power of growth.

26
God expects answers for the flowers he sends us, not for the sun and the earth.

27
The light that plays, like a naked child, among the green leaves happily knows not that man can lie.

28
O Beauty, find thyself in love, not in the flattery of thy mirror.

29
My heart beats her waves at the shore of the world and writes upon it her signature in tears with the words, “I love thee.”

30
“Moon, for what do you wait?”
“To salute the sun for whom I must make way.”

31
The trees come up to my window like the yearning voice of the dumb earth.

32
His own mornings are new surprises to God.

33
Life finds its wealth by the claims of the world, and its worth by the claims of love.

34
The dry river-bed finds no thanks for its past.

35
The bird wishes it were a cloud.
The cloud wishes it were a bird.

36
The waterfall sings, “I find my song, when I find my freedom.”

37
I cannot tell why this heart languishes in silence.
It is for small needs it never asks, or knows or remembers.

38
Woman, when you move about in your household service your limbs sing like a hill stream among its pebbles.

39
The sun goes to cross the Western sea, leaving its last salutation to the East.

40
Do not blame your food because you have no appetite.

41
The trees, like the longings of the earth, stand a-tiptoe to peep at the heaven.

42
You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long.

43
The fish in the water is silent, the animal on the earth is noisy, the bird in the air is singing,
But Man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and the music of the air.

44
The world rushes on over the strings of the lingering heart making the music of sadness.

45
He has made his weapons his gods.
When his weapons win he is defeated himself.

46
God finds himself by creating.

47
Shadow, with her veil drawn, follows Light in secret meekness, with her silent steps of love.

48
The stars are not afraid to appear like fireflies.

49
I thank thee that I am none of the wheels of power but I am one with the living creatures that are crushed by it.

50
The mind, sharp but not broad, sticks at every point but does not move.

51
Your idol is shattered in the dust to prove that God’s dust is greater than your idol.

52
Man does not reveal himself in his history, he struggles up through it.

53
While the glass lamp rebukes the earthen for calling it cousin, the moon rises, and the glass lamp, with a bland smile, calls her,—“My dear, dear sister.”

54
Like the meeting of the seagulls and the waves we meet and come near. The seagulls fly off, the waves roll away and we depart.

55
My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening.

56
Life is given to us, we earn it by giving it.

57
We come nearest to the great when we are great in humility.

58
The sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of its tail.

59
Never be afraid of the moments—thus sings the voice of the everlasting.

60
The hurricane seeks the shortest road by the no-road, and suddenly ends its search in the Nowhere.

61
Take my wine in my own cup, friend.
It loses its wreath of foam when poured into that of others.

62
The Perfect decks itself in beauty for the love of the Imperfect.

63
God says to man, “I heal you therefore I hurt, love you therefore punish.”

64
Thank the flame for its light, but do not forget the lampholder standing in the shade with constancy of patience.

65
Tiny grass, your steps are small, but you possess the earth under your tread.

66
The infant flower opens its bud and cries, “Dear World, please do not fade.”

67
God grows weary of great kingdoms, but never of little flowers.

68
Wrong cannot afford defeat but Right can.

69
“I give my whole water in joy,” sings the waterfall, “though little of it is enough for the thirsty.”

70
Where is the fountain that throws up these flowers in a ceaseless outbreak of ecstasy?

71
The woodcutter’s axe begged for its handle from the tree.
The tree gave it.

72
In my solitude of heart I feel the sigh of this widowed evening veiled with mist and rain.

73
Chastity is a wealth that comes from abundance of love.

74
The mist, like love, plays upon the heart of the hills and brings out surprises of beauty.

75
We read the world wrong and say that it deceives us.

76
The poet wind is out over the sea and the forest to seek his own voice.

77
Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of man.

78
The grass seeks her crowd in the earth.
The tree seeks his solitude of the sky.

79
Man barricades against himself.

80
Your voice, my friend, wanders in my heart, like the muffled sound of the sea among these listening pines.

81
What is this unseen flame of darkness whose sparks are the stars?

82
Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.

83
He who wants to do good knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the gate open.

84
In death the many becomes one; in life the one becomes many.
Religion will be one when God is dead.

85
The artist is the lover of Nature, therefore he is her slave and her master.

86
“How far are you from me, O Fruit?”
“I am hidden in your heart, O Flower.”

87
This longing is for the one who is felt in the dark, but not seen in the day.

88
“You are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, I am the smaller one on its upper side,” said the dewdrop to the lake.

89
The scabbard is content to be dull when it protects the keenness of the sword.

90
In darkness the One appears as uniform; in the light the One appears as manifold.

91
The great earth makes herself hospitable with the help of the grass.

92
The birth and death of the leaves are the rapid whirls of the eddy whose wider circles move slowly among stars.

93
Power said to the world, “You are mine.”
The world kept it prisoner on her throne.
Love said to the world, “I am thine.”
The world gave it the freedom of her house.

94
The mist is like the earth’s desire.
It hides the sun for whom she cries.

95
Be still, my heart, these great trees are prayers.

96
The noise of the moment scoffs at the music of the Eternal.

97
I think of other ages that floated upon the stream of life and love and death and are forgotten, and I feel the freedom of passing away.

98
The sadness of my soul is her bride’s veil.
It waits to be lifted in the night.

99
Death’s stamp gives value to the coin of life; making it possible to buy with life what is truly precious.

100
The cloud stood humbly in a corner of the sky.
The morning crowned it with splendour.

101
The dust receives insult and in return offers her flowers.

102
Do not linger to gather flowers to keep them, but walk on, for flowers will keep themselves blooming all your way.

103
Roots are the branches down in the earth.
Branches are roots in the air.

104
The music of the far-away summer flutters around the Autumn seeking its former nest.

105
Do not insult your friend by lending him merits from your own pocket.

106
The touch of the nameless days clings to my heart like mosses round the old tree.

107
The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original.

108
God is ashamed when the prosperous boasts of His special favour.

109
I cast my own shadow upon my path, because I have a lamp that has not been lighted.

110
Man goes into the noisy crowd to drown his own clamour of silence.

111
That which ends in exhaustion is death, but the perfect ending is in the endless.

112
The sun has his simple robe of light. The clouds are decked with gorgeousness.

113
The hills are like shouts of children who raise their arms, trying to catch stars.

114
The road is lonely in its crowd for it is not loved.

115
The power that boasts of its mischiefs is laughed at by the yellow leaves that fall, and clouds that pass by.

116
The earth hums to me to-day in the sun, like a woman at her spinning, some ballad of the ancient time in a forgotten tongue.

117
The grass-blade is worthy of the great world where it grows.

118
Dream is a wife who must talk,
Sleep is a husband who silently suffers.

119
The night kisses the fading day whispering to his ear, “I am death, your mother. I am to give you fresh birth.”

120
I feel thy beauty, dark night, like that of the loved woman when she has put out the lamp.

121
I carry in my world that flourishes the worlds that have failed.

122
Dear friend, I feel the silence of your great thoughts of many a deepening eventide on this beach when I listen to these waves.

123
The bird thinks it is an act of kindness to give the fish a lift in the air.

124
“In the moon thou sendest thy love letters to me,” said the night to the sun.
“I leave my answers in tears upon the grass.”

125
The Great is a born child; when he dies he gives his great childhood to the world.

126
Not hammerstrokes, but dance of the water sings the pebbles into perfection.

127
Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave.
The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him.

128
To be outspoken is easy when you do not wait to speak the complete truth.

129
Asks the Possible to the Impossible, “Where is your dwelling place?”
“In the dreams of the impotent,” comes the answer.

130
If you shut your door to all errors truth will be shut out.

131
I hear some rustle of things behind my sadness of heart,—I cannot see them.

132
Leisure in its activity is work.
The stillness of the sea stirs in waves.

133
The leaf becomes flower when it loves.
The flower becomes fruit when it worships.

134
The roots below the earth claim no rewards for making the branches fruitful.

135
This rainy evening the wind is restless.
I look at the swaying branches and ponder over the greatness of all things.

136
Storm of midnight, like a giant child awakened in the untimely dark, has begun to play and shout.

137
Thou raisest thy waves vainly to follow thy lover, O sea, thou lonely bride of the storm.

138
“I am ashamed of my emptiness,” said the Word to the Work.
“I know how poor I am when I see you,” said the Work to the Word.

139
Time is the wealth of change, but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth.

140
Truth in her dress finds facts too tight.
In fiction she moves with ease.

141
When I travelled to here and to there, I was tired of thee, O Road, but now when thou leadest me to everywhere I am wedded to thee in love.

142
Let me think that there is one among those stars that guides my life through the dark unknown.

143
Woman, with the grace of your fingers you touched my things and order came out like music.

144
One sad voice has its nest among the ruins of the years.
It sings to me in the night,—“I loved you.”

145
The flaming fire warns me off by its own glow.
Save me from the dying embers hidden under ashes.

146
I have my stars in the sky,
But oh for my little lamp unlit in my house.

147
The dust of the dead words clings to thee.
Wash thy soul with silence.

148
Gaps are left in life through which comes the sad music of death.

149
The world has opened its heart of light in the morning.
Come out, my heart, with thy love to meet it.

150
My thoughts shimmer with these shimmering leaves and my heart sings with the touch of this sunlight; my life is glad to be floating with all things into the blue of space, into the dark of time.

151
God’s great power is in the gentle breeze, not in the storm.

152
This is a dream in which things are all loose and they oppress. I shall find them gathered in thee when I awake and shall be free.

153
“Who is there to take up my duties?” asked the setting sun.
“I shall do what I can, my Master,” said the earthen lamp.

154
By plucking her petals you do not gather the beauty of the flower.

155
Silence will carry your voice like the nest that holds the sleeping birds.

156
The Great walks with the Small without fear.
The Middling keeps aloof.

157
The night opens the flowers in secret and allows the day to get thanks.

158
Power takes as ingratitude the writhings of its victims.

159
When we rejoice in our fulness, then we can part with our fruits with joy.

160
The raindrops kissed the earth and whispered,—“We are thy homesick children, mother, come back to thee from the heaven.”

161
The cobweb pretends to catch dewdrops and catches flies.

162
Love! when you come with the burning lamp of pain in your hand, I can see your face and know you as bliss.

163
“The learned say that your lights will one day be no more.” said the firefly to the stars.
The stars made no answer.

164
In the dusk of the evening the bird of some early dawn comes to the nest of my silence.

165
Thoughts pass in my mind like flocks of ducks in the sky.
I hear the voice of their wings.

166
The canal loves to think that rivers exist solely to supply it with water.

167
The world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return in songs.

168
That which oppresses me, is it my soul trying to come out in the open, or the soul of the world knocking at my heart for its entrance?

169
Thought feeds itself with its own words and grows.

170
I have dipped the vessel of my heart into this silent hour; it has filled with love.

171
Either you have work or you have not.
When you have to say, “Let us do something,” then begins mischief.

172
The sunflower blushed to own the nameless flower as her kin.
The sun rose and smiled on it, saying, “Are you well, my darling?”

173
“Who drives me forward like fate?”
“The Myself striding on my back.”

174
The clouds fill the watercups of the river, hiding themselves in the distant hills.

175
I spill water from my water jar as I walk on my way,
Very little remains for my home.

176
The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark.
The small truth has words that are clear; the great truth has great silence.

177
Your smile was the flowers of your own fields, your talk was the rustle of your own mountain pines, but your heart was the woman that we all know.

178
It is the little things that I leave behind for my loved ones,—great things are for everyone.

179
Woman, thou hast encircled the world’s heart with the depth of thy tears as the sea has the earth.

180
The sunshine greets me with a smile.
The rain, his sad sister, talks to my heart.

181
My flower of the day dropped its petals forgotten.
In the evening it ripens into a golden fruit of memory.

182
I am like the road in the night listening to the footfalls of its memories in silence.

183
The evening sky to me is like a window, and a lighted lamp, and a waiting behind it.

184
He who is too busy doing good finds no time to be good.

185
I am the autumn cloud, empty of rain, see my fulness in the field of ripened rice.

186
They hated and killed and men praised them.
But God in shame hastens to hide its memory under the green grass.

187
Toes are the fingers that have forsaken their past.

188
Darkness travels towards light, but blindness towards death.

189
The pet dog suspects the universe for scheming to take its place.

190
Sit still my heart, do not raise your dust.
Let the world find its way to you.

191
The bow whispers to the arrow before it speeds forth—“Your freedom is mine.”

192
Woman, in your laughter you have the music of the fountain of life.

193
A mind all logic is like a knife all blade.
It makes the hand bleed that uses it.

194
God loves man’s lamp lights better than his own great stars.

195
This world is the world of wild storms kept tame with the music of beauty.

196
“My heart is like the golden casket of thy kiss,” said the sunset cloud to the sun.

197
By touching you may kill, by keeping away you may possess.

198
The cricket’s chirp and the patter of rain come to me through the dark, like the rustle of dreams from my past youth.

199
“I have lost my dewdrop,” cries the flower to the morning sky that has lost all its stars.

200
The burning log bursts in flame and cries,—“This is my flower, my death.”

201
The wasp thinks that the honey-hive of the neighbouring bees is too small.
His neighbours ask him to build one still smaller.

202
“I cannot keep your waves,” says the bank to the river.
“Let me keep your footprints in my heart.”

203
The day, with the noise of this little earth, drowns the silence of all worlds.

204
The song feels the infinite in the air, the picture in the earth, the poem in the air and the earth;
For its words have meaning that walks and music that soars.

205
When the sun goes down to the West, the East of his morning stands before him in silence.

206
Let me not put myself wrongly to my world and set it against me.

207
Praise shames me, for I secretly beg for it.

208
Let my doing nothing when I have nothing to do become untroubled in its depth of peace like the evening in the seashore when the water is silent.

209
Maiden, your simplicity, like the blueness of the lake, reveals your depth of truth.

210
The best does not come alone.
It comes with the company of the all.

211
God’s right hand is gentle, but terrible is his left hand.

212
My evening came among the alien trees and spoke in a language which my morning stars did not know.

213
Night’s darkness is a bag that bursts with the gold of the dawn.

214
Our desire lends the colours of the rainbow to the mere mists and vapours of life.

215
God waits to win back his own flowers as gifts from man’s hands.

216
My sad thoughts tease me asking me their own names.

217
The service of the fruit is precious, the service of the flower is sweet, but let my service be the service of the leaves in its shade of humble devotion.

218
My heart has spread its sails to the idle winds for the shadowy island of Anywhere.

219
Men are cruel, but Man is kind.

220
Make me thy cup and let my fulness be for thee and for thine.

221
The storm is like the cry of some god in pain whose love the earth refuses.

222
The world does not leak because death is not a crack.

223
Life has become richer by the love that has been lost.

224
My friend, your great heart shone with the sunrise of the East like the snowy summit of a lonely hill in the dawn.

225
The fountain of death makes the still water of life play.

226
Those who have everything but thee, my God, laugh at those who have nothing but thyself.

227
The movement of life has its rest in its own music.

228
Kicks only raise dust and not crops from the earth.

229
Our names are the light that glows on the sea waves at night and then dies without leaving its signature.

230
Let him only see the thorns who has eyes to see the rose.

231
Set bird’s wings with gold and it will never again soar in the sky.

232
The same lotus of our clime blooms here in the alien water with the same sweetness, under another name.

233
In heart’s perspective the distance looms large.

234
The moon has her light all over the sky, her dark spots to herself.

235
Do not say, “It is morning,” and dismiss it with a name of yesterday. See it for the first time as a new-born child that has no name.

236
Smoke boasts to the sky, and Ashes to the earth, that they are brothers to the fire.

237
The raindrop whispered to the jasmine, “Keep me in your heart for ever.”
The jasmine sighed, “Alas,” and dropped to the ground.

238
Timid thoughts, do not be afraid of me.
I am a poet.

239
The dim silence of my mind seems filled with crickets’ chirp—the grey twilight of sound.

240
Rockets, your insult to the stars follows yourself back to the earth.

241
Thou hast led me through my crowded travels of the day to my evening’s loneliness.
I wait for its meaning through the stillness of the night.

242
This life is the crossing of a sea, where we meet in the same narrow ship.
In death we reach the shore and go to our different worlds.

243
The stream of truth flows through its channels of mistakes.

244
My heart is homesick to-day for the one sweet hour across the sea of time.

245
The bird-song is the echo of the morning light back from the earth.

246
“Are you too proud to kiss me?” the morning light asks the buttercup.

247
“How may I sing to thee and worship, O Sun?” asked the little flower.
“By the simple silence of thy purity,” answered the sun.

248
Man is worse than an animal when he is an animal.

249
Dark clouds become heaven’s flowers when kissed by light.

250
Let not the sword-blade mock its handle for being blunt.

251
The night’s silence, like a deep lamp, is burning with the light of its milky way.

252
Around the sunny island of Life swells day and night death’s limitless song of the sea.

253
Is not this mountain like a flower, with its petals of hills, drinking the sunlight?

254
The real with its meaning read wrong and emphasis misplaced is the unreal.

255
Find your beauty, my heart, from the world’s movement, like the boat that has the grace of the wind and the water.

256
The eyes are not proud of their sight but of their eyeglasses.

257
I live in this little world of mine and am afraid to make it the least less. Lift me into thy world and let me have the freedom gladly to lose my all.

258
The false can never grow into truth by growing in power.

259
My heart, with its lapping waves of song, longs to caress this green world of the sunny day.

260
Wayside grass, love the star, then your dreams will come out in flowers.

261
Let your music, like a sword, pierce the noise of the market to its heart.

262
The trembling leaves of this tree touch my heart like the fingers of an infant child.

263
This sadness of my soul is her bride’s veil.
It waits to be lifted in the night.

264
The little flower lies in the dust.
It sought the path of the butterfly.

265
I am in the world of the roads.
The night comes. Open thy gate, thou world of the home.

266
I have sung the songs of thy day.
In the evening let me carry thy lamp through the stormy path.

267
I do not ask thee into the house.
Come into my infinite loneliness, my Lover.

268
Death belongs to life as birth does.
The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down.

269
I have learnt the simple meaning of thy whispers in flowers and sunshine—teach me to know thy words in pain and death.

270
The night’s flower was late when the morning kissed her, she shivered and sighed and dropped to the ground.

271
Through the sadness of all things I hear the crooning of the Eternal Mother.

272
I came to your shore as a stranger, I lived in your house as a guest, I leave your door as a friend, my earth.

273
Let my thoughts come to you, when I am gone, like the afterglow of sunset at the margin of starry silence.

274
Light in my heart the evening star of rest and then let the night whisper to me of love.

275
I am a child in the dark.
I stretch my hands through the coverlet of night for thee, Mother.

276
The day of work is done. Hide my face in your arms, Mother.
Let me dream.

277
The lamp of meeting burns long; it goes out in a moment at the parting.

278
One word keep for me in thy silence, O World, when I am dead, “I have loved.”

279
We live in this world when we love it.

280
Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.

281
I have seen thee as the half-awakened child sees his mother in the dusk of the dawn and then smiles and sleeps again.

282
I shall die again and again to know that life is inexhaustible.

283
While I was passing with the crowd in the road I saw thy smile from the balcony and I sang and forgot all noise.

284
Love is life in its fulness like the cup with its wine.

285
They light their own lamps and sing their own words in their temples.
But the birds sing thy name in thine own morning light,—for thy name is joy.

286
Lead me in the centre of thy silence to fill my heart with songs.

287
Let them live who choose in their own hissing world of fireworks.
My heart longs for thy stars, my God.

288
Love’s pain sang round my life like the unplumbed sea, and love’s joy sang like birds in its flowering groves.

289
Put out the lamp when thou wishest.
I shall know thy darkness and shall love it.

290
When I stand before thee at the day’s end thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.

291
Some day I shall sing to thee in the sunrise of some other world, “I have seen thee before in the light of the earth, in the love of man.”

292
Clouds come floating into my life from other days no longer to shed rain or usher storm but to give colour to my sunset sky.

293
Truth raises against itself the storm that scatters its seeds broadcast.

294
The storm of the last night has crowned this morning with golden peace.

295
Truth seems to come with its final word; and the final word gives birth to its next.

296
Blessed is he whose fame does not outshine his truth.

297
Sweetness of thy name fills my heart when I forget mine—like thy morning sun when the mist is melted.

298
The silent night has the beauty of the mother and the clamorous day of the child.

299
The world loved man when he smiled. The world became afraid of him when he laughed.

300
God waits for man to regain his childhood in wisdom.

301
Let me feel this world as thy love taking form, then my love will help it.

302
Thy sunshine smiles upon the winter days of my heart, never doubting of its spring flowers.

303
God kisses the finite in his love and man the infinite.

304
Thou crossest desert lands of barren years to reach the moment of fulfilment.

305
God’s silence ripens man’s thoughts into speech.

306
Thou wilt find, Eternal Traveller, marks of thy footsteps across my songs.

307
Let me not shame thee, Father, who displayest thy glory in thy children.

308
Cheerless is the day, the light under frowning clouds is like a punished child with traces of tears on its pale cheeks, and the cry of the wind is like the cry of a wounded world. But I know I am travelling to meet my Friend.

309
To-night there is a stir among the palm leaves, a swell in the sea, Full Moon, like the heart throb of the world. From what unknown sky hast thou carried in thy silence the aching secret of love?

310
I dream of a star, an island of light, where I shall be born and in the depth of its quickening leisure my life will ripen its works like the ricefield in the autumn sun.

311
The smell of the wet earth in the rain rises like a great chant of praise from the voiceless multitude of the insignificant.

312
That love can ever lose is a fact that we cannot accept as truth.

313
We shall know some day that death can never rob us of that which our soul has gained, for her gains are one with herself.

314
God comes to me in the dusk of my evening with the flowers from my past kept fresh in his basket.

315
When all the strings of my life will be tuned, my Master, then at every touch of thine will come out the music of love.

316
Let me live truly, my Lord, so that death to me become true.

317
Man’s history is waiting in patience for the triumph of the insulted man.

318
I feel thy gaze upon my heart this moment like the sunny silence of the morning upon the lonely field whose harvest is over.

319
I long for the Island of Songs across this heaving Sea of Shouts.

320
The prelude of the night is commenced in the music of the sunset, in its solemn hymn to the ineffable dark.

321
I have scaled the peak and found no shelter in fame’s bleak and barren height. Lead me, my Guide, before the light fades, into the valley of quiet where life’s harvest mellows into golden wisdom.

322
Things look phantastic in this dimness of the dusk—the spires whose bases are lost in the dark and tree tops like blots of ink. I shall wait for the morning and wake up to see thy city in the light.

323
I have suffered and despaired and known death and I am glad that I am in this great world.

324
There are tracts in my life that are bare and silent. They are the open spaces where my busy days had their light and air.

325
Release me from my unfulfilled past clinging to me from behind making death difficult.

326
Let this be my last word, that I trust in thy love.

----

中文译文 · Claude（AI）译

1
夏天漂泊的鸟儿来到我窗前，唱一会儿歌，又飞走了。
秋天的黄叶没有歌，只在那里飘动，叹一口气，落下。

2
世界上一群小小的流浪者啊，在我的字句里留下你们的足迹吧。

3
世界在它的爱人面前，摘下了广大的面具。
它变得像一首歌那样小，像永恒的一个吻那样小。

4
是大地的泪水，让她的微笑一直开着花。

5
浩瀚的沙漠燃烧着，爱上了一片草叶，草叶却摇摇头，笑着飞走了。

6
如果你为错过太阳而流泪，你也会错过星星。

7
跳舞的流水啊，你路上的沙粒在乞求你的歌和你的流动。你愿意背负它们的跛足吗？

8
她那若有所思的脸，像夜里的雨，萦绕在我的梦中。

9
有一回，我们梦见彼此是陌生人。
醒来才发现，我们原是彼此亲爱的人。

10
忧伤在我心里静成了安宁，像黄昏落在寂静的树林间。

11
一些看不见的手指，像闲散的微风，在我心上弹奏着涟漪的音乐。

12
“海啊，你说的是什么语言？”
“永恒的疑问的语言。”
“天啊，你回答的是什么语言？”
“永恒的沉默的语言。”

13
听吧，我的心，听世界的低语，它正用这低语向你求爱。

14
创造的奥秘像夜的黑暗——它是伟大的。知识的幻象却像早晨的雾。

15
不要因为悬崖高，就把你的爱安放在悬崖上。

16
今天早晨我坐在窗前，世界像一个过路人，停了片刻，向我点点头，走了。

17
这些小小的思绪，是树叶的沙沙声；它们在我心里低语着欢喜。

18
你是什么，你自己看不见；你看见的，是你的影子。

19
我的愿望是些傻子，它们隔着你的歌声大喊大叫，我的主人。
让我只是听吧。

20
我选不出最好的。
是最好的选中了我。

21
把灯背在背上的人，把影子投在自己前面。

22
我存在着，这是一个永不停止的惊奇，这惊奇就是生命。

23
“我们这些沙沙作响的叶子，有声音回应风暴，可你是谁，这样沉默？”
“我只是一朵花。”

24
休息之于工作，正如眼睑之于眼睛。

25
人是天生的孩子，他的力量是生长的力量。

26
上帝等着我们回答他送来的花，而不是回答太阳和大地。

27
那光像一个赤身的孩子，在绿叶间快乐地嬉戏，不知道人会说谎。

28
美啊，到爱里去找你自己吧，不要到你镜子的奉承里去找。

29
我的心把她的浪拍打在世界的岸上，用泪水在岸上写下她的签名：“我爱你。”

30
“月亮，你在等什么？”
“等着向太阳致敬，我得给他让路。”

31
树木走到我的窗前，像喑哑的大地发出的渴望的声音。

32
上帝自己的每一个早晨，对他都是新的惊奇。

33
生命从世界的索求中得到财富，从爱的索求中得到价值。

34
干涸的河床，不会因为它的过去而得到感谢。

35
鸟儿希望自己是一朵云。
云希望自己是一只鸟。

36
瀑布唱道：“我找到自由的时候，就找到了我的歌。”

37
我说不出这颗心为什么在沉默中憔悴。
是为了那些小小的需要，它从不要求，也不知道，也不记得。

38
女人啊，你在家中操劳走动的时候，你的四肢歌唱，像山间溪水流过它的卵石。

39
太阳要横渡西方的海了，把最后的致意留给东方。

40
不要因为你没有胃口，就责怪你的食物。

41
树木像大地的渴望，踮着脚尖，偷偷望向天空。

42
你微笑着，对我说些无关紧要的话，我觉得为了这个，我已经等了很久。

43
水里的鱼沉默，地上的兽喧闹，空中的鸟歌唱，
而人身上兼有海的沉默、地的喧闹和空中的音乐。

44
世界从徘徊不去的心弦上奔涌而过，奏出忧伤的音乐。

45
他把他的武器当成了他的神。
当他的武器得胜时，他自己就失败了。

46
上帝在创造中找到他自己。

47
影子拉下面纱，带着秘密的温顺，迈着爱的无声的脚步，跟随着光。

48
星星不怕显得像萤火虫。

49
我感谢你，我不是权力的轮子之一，而是与那些被它碾碎的生灵同在。

50
锐利而不宽广的心智，处处卡住，却不能前进。

51
你的偶像碎在尘土里，为的是证明上帝的尘土比你的偶像更伟大。

52
人不在他的历史中显露自己，他在历史中奋力向上。

53
玻璃灯斥责陶土灯叫它表亲，这时月亮升起来了，玻璃灯堆起温和的笑容，叫她：“我亲爱的、亲爱的姐姐。”

54
我们相遇、靠近，像海鸥与波浪相遇。海鸥飞走，波浪滚去，我们也分离了。

55
我的一天已经完了，我像一只被拖上沙滩的船，在黄昏里听着潮水的舞曲。

56
生命是给予我们的，我们通过给予去赢得它。

57
当我们在谦卑中变得伟大，我们就离伟大最近。

58
麻雀替孔雀难过，因为它要拖着那样沉重的尾巴。

59
永远不要害怕那些瞬间——永恒的声音这样唱道。

60
飓风走无路之路，寻找最短的路，然后突然在“无处”结束了它的寻找。

61
朋友，用我自己的杯子喝我的酒吧。
倒进别人的杯子，它就失去了泡沫的花环。

62
完美为了爱不完美，用美来装扮自己。

63
上帝对人说：“我医治你，所以伤害你；我爱你，所以惩罚你。”

64
感谢火焰给你光，但不要忘了那个以恒久的耐心站在阴影里的持灯人。

65
小小的草啊，你的脚步很小，可你脚下踩着的是整个大地。

66
幼小的花打开它的蓓蕾，喊道：“亲爱的世界，请不要凋谢。”

67
上帝会厌倦伟大的王国，却从不厌倦小小的花。

68
错误经不起失败，正确却经得起。

69
“我欢欢喜喜地献出我全部的水，”瀑布唱道，“虽然只要一点点，就够口渴的人喝了。”

70
是哪里的泉源，在不停迸发的狂喜中把这些花抛洒上来？

71
樵夫的斧子向树讨一根柄。
树给了它。

72
在我内心的孤寂里，我感到这被雾和雨笼罩的、寡居的黄昏在叹息。

73
贞洁是一种财富，来自爱的丰盈。

74
雾像爱一样，在山的心上嬉戏，让美的惊喜一一显现。

75
我们把世界读错了，却说它欺骗了我们。

76
诗人一样的风，出发到海上和林中，去寻找他自己的声音。

77
每一个孩子降生，都带来这个消息：上帝对人还没有灰心。

78
草在大地上寻找她的伙伴。
树在天空里寻找他的孤独。

79
人筑起栅栏，防着他自己。

80
我的朋友，你的声音在我心里漫游，像这些倾听着的松树间，大海低沉的声音。

81
这黑暗中看不见的火焰是什么？星星是它的火花。

82
愿生命美得像夏天的花，愿死亡美得像秋天的叶。

83
想行善的人在门外敲门；爱着的人发现门是开着的。

84
在死亡中，多成为一；在生命中，一成为多。
上帝死去的时候，宗教就会合而为一。

85
艺术家是大自然的情人，所以他既是她的奴隶，又是她的主人。

86
“果实啊，你离我多远？”
“花啊，我藏在你的心里。”

87
这渴望是为了那一位：在黑暗里能感觉到他，在白天却看不见。

88
“你是荷叶底下那颗大露珠，我是荷叶上面那颗小一点的，”露珠对湖说。

89
刀鞘只要护住了刀锋的锐利，自己暗淡也心满意足。

90
在黑暗中，那唯一者显得始终如一；在光明中，那唯一者显得千姿百态。

91
伟大的大地借着草的帮助，让自己变得好客。

92
叶子的生与死，是漩涡急速的旋转，这漩涡更大的圆圈在星辰之间缓缓移动。

93
权力对世界说：“你是我的。”
世界把它囚禁在自己的宝座上。
爱对世界说：“我是你的。”
世界让它在自己的家里自由来去。

94
雾像大地的渴望。
它遮住了她为之哭泣的太阳。

95
安静吧，我的心，这些大树都是祈祷。

96
一时的喧闹，嘲笑着永恒的音乐。

97
我想起别的时代，它们曾漂浮在生命、爱与死亡的河流上，如今已被遗忘，我感到了消逝的自由。

98
我灵魂的忧伤，是她新娘的面纱。
它等着在夜里被揭开。

99
死亡的印记给生命的硬币以价值；使人能用生命去买真正珍贵的东西。

100
云谦卑地站在天空的一角。
早晨给它戴上了光辉的冠冕。

101
尘土受到侮辱，却以她的花朵作为回报。

102
不要为了收藏花朵而逗留采摘，只管往前走吧，因为花朵会在你一路上自己开着。

103
根是长在地下的枝。
枝是长在空中的根。

104
遥远的夏天的音乐，在秋天四周飘动，寻找它往日的巢。

105
不要从你自己的口袋里掏出优点借给你的朋友，那是侮辱他。

106
那些无名的日子的触摸，粘在我心上，像苔藓长在老树的四周。

107
回声嘲笑她的本源，为的是证明她才是原声。

108
当富贵的人夸耀他特别受上帝的恩宠，上帝感到羞愧。

109
我把自己的影子投在我的路上，因为我有一盏还没有点亮的灯。

110
人走进喧闹的人群，为的是淹没他自己沉默的喧嚣。

111
在精疲力竭中结束的，是死亡；而完美的结束，在于无穷。

112
太阳穿着他朴素的光的长袍。云彩却装扮得华丽。

113
群山像孩子们的呼喊，他们举起手臂，想去抓住星星。

114
道路在人群之中是孤独的，因为它不被人爱。

115
那夸耀自己恶行的权力，被飘落的黄叶和飘过的云嘲笑。

116
今天，大地在阳光下对我哼唱，像一个纺纱的女人，用一种被遗忘的语言哼着古时的歌谣。

117
草叶配得上它生长于其中的伟大世界。

118
梦是一个非说话不可的妻子，
睡眠是一个默默忍受的丈夫。

119
夜亲吻着渐渐消逝的白昼，在他耳边低语：“我是死亡，是你的母亲。我要给你新的诞生。”

120
黑夜啊，我感到你的美，像那被爱的女人熄了灯以后的美。

121
在我这繁盛的世界里，我带着那些失败了的世界。

122
亲爱的朋友，当我听着这些波浪，我感到你伟大思想的沉默，那是在这海滩上，许多渐深的黄昏里的沉默。

123
鸟以为把鱼带到空中兜一圈，是一件善事。

124
“你在月亮里给我寄情书，”夜对太阳说。
“我把我的回信化作泪水，留在草上。”

125
伟人是天生的孩子；他死的时候，把他伟大的童年交给了世界。

126
不是锤子的敲打，而是流水的舞蹈，把卵石唱成了完美。

127
蜜蜂从花里啜饮蜂蜜，离开时嗡嗡地道谢。
花哨的蝴蝶却认定花朵应该向它道谢。

128
如果你不等到能说出全部真话再开口，直言不讳是很容易的。

129
可能问不可能：“你住在哪里？”
回答是：“在无能者的梦里。”

130
如果你把门关起来，挡住一切错误，真理也会被关在门外。

131
在我心的忧伤后面，我听见有些东西沙沙作响——我看不见它们。

132
闲暇在活动时就是工作。
大海的静止在波浪中翻动。

133
叶子恋爱时，就成了花。
花崇拜时，就成了果实。

134
地下的根，使枝条结出果实，却不要求报酬。

135
这个下雨的黄昏，风不肯安静。
我望着摇曳的树枝，沉思万物的伟大。

136
午夜的风暴，像一个在不合时宜的黑暗中醒来的巨大的孩子，开始玩耍、叫喊。

137
海啊，你这风暴的孤独的新娘，你徒然掀起波浪，去追随你的爱人。

138
“我为我的空虚感到羞愧，”言语对事功说。
“我一看见你，就知道我多么贫乏，”事功对言语说。

139
时间是变化的财富，可钟表模仿它，只把它变成了变化，而没有财富。

140
真理穿上事实的衣服，觉得太紧。
在虚构里，她却行动自如。

141
路啊，当我这里那里地奔走，我厌倦了你；可是现在，你领着我到处去，我便与你在爱里结合了。

142
让我想着，在那些星星中间，有一颗在黑暗的未知里指引着我的生命。

143
女人啊，你用手指的优雅碰了碰我的东西，秩序便像音乐一样出现了。

144
一个忧伤的声音在岁月的废墟里筑了巢。
它在夜里对我唱：“我爱过你。”

145
熊熊的火用它自己的光焰警告我走开。
救救我吧，别让我碰上藏在灰烬下面、快要熄灭的余烬。

146
我在天上有我的星星，
可是啊，我屋里那盏还没点亮的小灯呢。

147
死去的言语的尘土沾在你身上。
用沉默洗涤你的灵魂吧。

148
生命里留着一些空隙，死亡忧伤的音乐从那里传进来。

149
世界在早晨打开了它光明的心。
出来吧，我的心，带着你的爱去迎接它。

150
我的思绪随着这些闪烁的树叶闪烁，我的心因这阳光的触摸而歌唱；我的生命很高兴，与万物一同漂浮，漂进空间的蔚蓝，漂进时间的黑暗。

151
上帝巨大的力量在温柔的微风里，不在风暴里。

152
这是一场梦，梦里万物都散乱着，压迫着我。等我醒来，我会发现它们都聚集在你那里，我就自由了。

153
“谁来接替我的职责？”落日问。
“我会尽我所能，我的主人，”陶土的灯说。

154
扯下花瓣，你并不能采集到花的美。

155
沉默会托起你的声音，像鸟巢托着熟睡的鸟。

156
伟大的与渺小的同行，毫无畏惧。
不大不小的却远远躲开。

157
夜在暗中让花开放，却让白昼去接受感谢。

158
权力把它的牺牲者的挣扎，看作忘恩负义。

159
当我们为自己的丰盈而欢喜，我们就能欢喜地舍弃我们的果实。

160
雨滴亲吻着大地，低声说：“母亲，我们是你想家的孩子，从天上回到你这里来了。”

161
蛛网假装要捕捉露珠，捉到的却是苍蝇。

162
爱啊！当你手里拿着痛苦的燃烧的灯走来，我能看见你的脸，认出你就是至福。

163
“学者们说，你们的光总有一天会熄灭，”萤火虫对星星说。
星星没有回答。

164
在黄昏的暮色里，某个早晨的黎明之鸟，飞到我沉默的巢里来了。

165
思绪掠过我的心头，像一群群野鸭飞过天空。
我听见它们翅膀的声音。

166
运河喜欢这样想：河流存在，只是为了给它供水。

167
世界用它的痛苦亲吻我的灵魂，要我用歌来回报。

168
压迫着我的，是我的灵魂想要出来到旷野里去，还是世界的灵魂在敲我的心门，想要进来？

169
思想用它自己的言语喂养自己，于是生长。

170
我把我心的器皿浸进这寂静的时辰；它盛满了爱。

171
你要么有工作，要么没有。
当你不得不说“让我们做点什么吧”，祸事就开始了。

172
向日葵羞于认那朵无名的花是她的亲戚。
太阳升起来，对那朵花微笑着说：“你好吗，我的宝贝？”

173
“是谁像命运一样驱赶着我向前？”
“是那个骑在我背上大步走的我自己。”

174
云把河的水杯斟满，自己却藏到远处的山里去了。

175
我一路走，一路从水罐里洒出水，
剩下带回家的已经很少了。

176
杯中的水闪闪发亮；海里的水却是幽暗的。
小的真理有清楚的言语；大的真理有大的沉默。

177
你的微笑是你自己田野上的花，你的谈吐是你自己山中松林的沙沙声，可你的心，却是我们都认识的那个女人。

178
我留给我所爱的人的，是一些小东西——大的东西是留给每一个人的。

179
女人啊，你用你泪水的深度环绕着世界的心，就像大海环绕着大地。

180
阳光用微笑向我问候。
雨，他忧伤的妹妹，对我的心说话。

181
我白天的花被遗忘了，花瓣落尽。
到了黄昏，它成熟为一颗记忆的金色果实。

182
我像夜里的路，静静地听着它的记忆的脚步声。

183
黄昏的天空，对我来说像一扇窗，一盏点亮的灯，和灯后的等待。

184
忙于行善的人，没有时间去做善人。

185
我是秋天的云，没有了雨，可你去看那成熟的稻田，就能看见我的丰盈。

186
他们憎恨、杀戮，人们却称赞他们。
可是上帝满怀羞愧，赶忙把对这件事的记忆藏到绿草底下。

187
脚趾是抛弃了过去的手指。

188
黑暗走向光明，盲目却走向死亡。

189
宠物狗怀疑整个宇宙都在密谋夺走它的位置。

190
静静坐着吧，我的心，别扬起你的尘土。
让世界自己找到通向你的路。

191
弓在箭射出之前低声对它说：“你的自由就是我的。”

192
女人啊，你的笑声里有生命之泉的音乐。

193
全是逻辑的心智，就像全是刀刃的刀。
它让用它的手流血。

194
上帝爱人间的灯光，胜过爱他自己伟大的星辰。

195
这世界是狂野风暴的世界，被美的音乐驯服了。

196
“我的心就像盛着你的吻的金匣子，”落日的云对太阳说。

197
触碰，你可能会杀死它；远离，你却可能拥有它。

198
蟋蟀的唧唧声和雨的滴答声穿过黑暗来到我这里，像我逝去的青春里梦的沙沙声。

199
“我失去了我的露珠，”花对失去了所有星星的早晨的天空喊道。

200
燃烧的木柴迸出火焰，喊道：“这是我的花，我的死。”

201
黄蜂觉得邻居蜜蜂的蜂巢太小了。
邻居们请它自己造一个更小的。

202
“我留不住你的波浪，”河岸对河说，
“让我把你的足迹留在我心里吧。”

203
白天，用这小小的地球的喧闹，淹没了所有世界的寂静。

204
歌在空中感到无限，画在地上感到无限，诗在空中和地上都感到无限；
因为诗的言语有会行走的意义和会飞翔的音乐。

205
当太阳向西沉落，他早晨的东方静静地站在他面前。

206
不要让我以错误的姿态对待我的世界，使它与我为敌。

207
赞美使我羞愧，因为我暗地里在乞求它。

208
当我无事可做时，让我的无所事事在它深深的安宁里不受打扰，就像海水静默时海滨的黄昏。

209
少女啊，你的单纯像湖水的蔚蓝，显露出你真诚的深度。

210
最好的东西不会独自到来。
它与一切东西结伴而来。

211
上帝的右手是温柔的，可他的左手是可怕的。

212
我的黄昏来到陌生的树林中间，说着一种我早晨的星星不懂的语言。

213
夜的黑暗是一只口袋，被黎明的金子撑破了。

214
我们的欲望，把彩虹的颜色借给了生命里那些不过是雾与水汽的东西。

215
上帝等着从人的手中，把他自己的花作为礼物赢回来。

216
我忧伤的思绪来逗弄我，问我它们自己叫什么名字。

217
果实的服务是珍贵的，花的服务是甜美的，但让我的服务，是叶子那样的服务，在它的树荫里谦卑地奉献。

218
我的心向着闲散的风张开了帆，驶向那个影影绰绰的“随便哪里”的岛屿。

219
人们是残酷的，但人是仁慈的。

220
让我做你的杯子吧，让我的满溢为了你，也为了你的一切。

221
风暴像某位痛苦的神的呼喊，大地拒绝了他的爱。

222
世界不会漏掉什么，因为死亡并不是一道裂缝。

223
生命因为失去了的爱，而变得更加丰富。

224
我的朋友，你伟大的心随着东方的日出而闪耀，像黎明时一座孤山积雪的峰顶。

225
死亡的泉水，让生命静止的水嬉戏起来。

226
我的神，那些除了你什么都有的人，嘲笑那些除了你什么都没有的人。

227
生命的运动，在它自己的音乐里得到休息。

228
踢打只会从地上扬起尘土，扬不起庄稼。

229
我们的名字是夜里在海浪上闪耀的光，随后熄灭，不留下签名。

230
只有看得见玫瑰的人，才配去看它的刺。

231
给鸟的翅膀镶上金子，它就再也不能在天空翱翔了。

232
我们家乡的那种莲花，在这异乡的水里开着，一样的芬芳，只是换了名字。

233
从心的透视看去，距离显得格外遥远。

234
月亮把她的光洒满天空，却把她的黑斑留给自己。

235
不要说“这是早晨”，然后用一个昨天的名字把它打发掉。第一次去看它吧，把它看作一个还没有名字的新生的孩子。

236
烟向天空夸口，灰烬向大地夸口，说它们是火的兄弟。

237
雨滴对茉莉低声说：“把我永远留在你心里吧。”
茉莉叹了一声“唉”，落到了地上。

238
胆怯的思绪啊，不要怕我。
我是一个诗人。

239
我心中幽暗的寂静，仿佛充满了蟋蟀的唧唧声——那是声音的灰色暮色。

240
焰火啊，你对星星的侮辱，会跟着你自己落回地上。

241
你领着我穿过白天拥挤的旅程，来到我黄昏的孤独里。
我在夜的寂静中等待它的意义。

242
这一生是渡过一片海，我们在同一条窄窄的船上相遇。
死时我们到了岸，各自去往不同的世界。

243
真理的溪流，从它错误的渠道中流过。

244
今天，我的心想家了，想念时间之海那边的一个甜美的时辰。

245
鸟的歌声，是早晨的光从大地上返回的回声。

246
“你骄傲得不肯吻我吗？”早晨的光问毛茛。

247
“太阳啊，我怎样才能为你歌唱，怎样才能崇拜你？”小花问。
“用你纯洁而单纯的沉默，”太阳回答。

248
人做野兽的时候，比野兽还坏。

249
乌云被光亲吻时，就成了天上的花。

250
不要让刀刃嘲笑刀柄的钝。

251
夜的寂静，像一盏深深的灯，燃着银河的光。

252
在生命这座阳光照耀的岛屿四周，死亡那无边的海的歌日夜涌动。

253
这座山不就像一朵花吗？以群峰为花瓣，啜饮着阳光。

254
真实的东西，如果意义被读错，重点被放错，就成了不真实的。

255
我的心，从世界的运动里找到你的美吧，像那只得到风与水的优雅的船。

256
眼睛不以它们的视力为傲，却以它们的眼镜为傲。

257
我住在我这个小小的世界里，生怕让它有一丝一毫的缩小。把我举进你的世界吧，让我有欢欢喜喜失去我的一切的自由。

258
虚假的东西，无论权力增长到多大，也永远长不成真实。

259
我的心，带着它歌声拍岸的波浪，渴望着去抚摸这阳光明媚的白天的绿色世界。

260
路边的草啊，去爱那颗星星吧，你的梦就会开成花。

261
让你的音乐像一把剑，刺穿市场的喧闹，直刺它的心。

262
这棵树颤动的叶子触动着我的心，像一个婴儿的手指。

263
我灵魂的这份忧伤，是她新娘的面纱。
它等着在夜里被揭开。

264
小小的花躺在尘土里。
它曾寻找蝴蝶的路。

265
我在道路的世界里。
夜来了。打开你的门吧，你这家的世界。

266
我已经唱过了你白天的歌。
到了黄昏，让我提着你的灯，走过风雨的路。

267
我不请你到屋里来。
到我无边的孤寂里来吧，我的爱人。

268
死亡属于生命，正如出生一样。
走路既在于抬起脚，也在于放下脚。

269
我已经懂得了你在花朵与阳光中的低语的简单意思——教我去懂得你在痛苦与死亡中的言语吧。

270
夜里的花开迟了，早晨亲吻她的时候，她颤抖着，叹息着，落到了地上。

271
透过万物的忧伤，我听见永恒的母亲在低声哼唱。

272
我的大地啊，我作为陌生人来到你的岸边，作为客人住在你的屋里，作为朋友离开你的门。

273
当我离去的时候，让我的思绪来到你身边，像日落的余晖，在星光寂静的边缘。

274
在我心里点亮那颗安息的晚星吧，然后让夜对我低语爱。

275
我是黑暗中的孩子。
母亲，我透过夜的被子，向你伸出双手。

276
白天的工作做完了。母亲，把我的脸藏在你的臂弯里吧。
让我做梦。

277
相会的灯燃得很久；分别的时候，它一下子就熄了。

278
世界啊，当我死去，请在你的沉默里为我留下一句话：“我爱过。”

279
当我们爱这个世界，我们才住在这个世界上。

280
让死者拥有名声的不朽，让生者拥有爱的不朽。

281
我看见过你，像半醒的孩子在黎明的微光中看见他的母亲，然后微笑，又睡去了。

282
我将一次又一次地死去，为的是知道生命是无穷无尽的。

283
我随着人群在路上走过的时候，看见了你在阳台上的微笑，我唱起歌来，忘了一切喧闹。

284
爱是充盈的生命，像盛满了酒的杯子。

285
他们在自己的庙宇里点亮他们自己的灯，唱他们自己的话。
可是鸟儿们在你自己的晨光里唱着你的名字——因为你的名字就是欢乐。

286
领我到你寂静的中心去，让我的心充满歌声。

287
让那些愿意的人，住在他们自己那嘶嘶作响的焰火的世界里吧。
我的心渴望着你的星星，我的神。

288
爱的痛苦，像深不可测的大海，环绕着我的生命歌唱；爱的欢乐，像鸟儿在它开花的树丛里歌唱。

289
你愿意的时候，就把灯熄了吧。
我会认识你的黑暗，也会爱它。

290
当我在一天结束时站在你面前，你将看见我的伤疤，知道我受过伤，也痊愈过。

291
总有一天，我会在另一个世界的日出中对你唱：“我以前见过你，在大地的光里，在人的爱里。”

292
云从别的日子飘进我的生命，不再降雨，也不再引来风暴，只为给我日落的天空添上色彩。

293
真理掀起反对它自己的风暴，那风暴却把它的种子撒向四方。

294
昨夜的风暴给今天早晨戴上了金色的安宁的冠冕。

295
真理似乎带着它最后的话来了；而这最后的话又生出了它的下一句。

296
名声没有盖过他的真实的人，是有福的。

297
当我忘了我自己的名字，你的名字的甜美便充满我的心——就像雾散了以后，你早晨的太阳。

298
寂静的夜有母亲的美，喧闹的白天有孩子的美。

299
人微笑的时候，世界爱他。人大笑的时候，世界怕他。

300
上帝等着人在智慧中重新得到他的童年。

301
让我感到这世界是你的爱成了形，那么我的爱就会帮助它。

302
你的阳光对着我心里的冬日微笑，从不怀疑它春天的花朵。

303
上帝在他的爱里亲吻有限，人亲吻无限。

304
你穿过荒芜岁月的沙漠，为的是抵达圆满的那一刻。

305
上帝的沉默，使人的思想成熟为言语。

306
永恒的旅人啊，你会在我的歌里，找到你一路走过的足迹。

307
父亲啊，你在你的孩子身上显出你的荣耀，让我不要使你蒙羞。

308
这一天没有欢乐，紧蹙的云下的光，像一个受了罚的孩子，苍白的脸颊上留着泪痕，风的呼号像一个受了伤的世界的呼号。但我知道，我正在去见我的朋友的路上。

309
今夜，棕榈叶间一阵骚动，海上一阵涌浪，满月啊，像世界的心跳。你从哪一片未知的天空，在你的沉默里带来了爱的那个令人心痛的秘密？

310
我梦见一颗星，一座光的岛屿，我将在那里出生，在它催人生长的闲暇的深处，我的生命将使它的工作成熟，像秋日阳光下的稻田。

311
雨中湿土的气味升起来，像无数无足轻重、没有声音的生灵唱出的一首伟大的赞美歌。

312
爱竟会失去——这是一个我们无法当作真理来接受的事实。

313
总有一天我们会知道，死亡永远夺不走我们的灵魂所得到的，因为她所得到的，与她自己是一体的。

314
上帝在我黄昏的暮色里来到我这里，篮子里带着我过去的花，那些花依然新鲜。

315
我的主人，当我生命的所有琴弦都调好了，那么你每触碰一下，都会奏出爱的音乐。

316
我的主啊，让我真实地活着，好让死亡对我也是真实的。

317
人的历史在耐心地等待着受辱者的胜利。

318
此刻，我感到你的目光落在我的心上，像早晨阳光照耀的寂静，落在收割完了的孤寂的田野上。

319
我渴望着越过这片翻腾的喧嚷之海，到达那座歌的岛屿。

320
夜的序曲，在日落的音乐里，在它献给不可言说的黑暗的庄严颂歌里，开始了。

321
我登上了山顶，却发现在名声那荒凉贫瘠的高处没有栖身之所。我的向导啊，在光消失之前，领我到那安静的山谷里去吧，在那里，生命的收获会成熟为金色的智慧。

322
在这朦胧的暮色里，万物都显得奇异——尖塔的底座消失在黑暗里，树梢像一团团墨迹。我要等待早晨，醒来在光里看见你的城。

323
我受过苦，绝望过，认识过死亡，而我很高兴，我在这个伟大的世界里。

324
我的生命里有些地方是空旷而寂静的。那是开阔的空地，我忙碌的日子曾在那里得到它们的光和空气。

325
请让我摆脱我那未完成的过去吧，它在后面缠着我，使死亡变得艰难。

326
就让这作为我最后的一句话吧：我信靠你的爱。