第4章 大自然的爱

Feathers in the Wind

A good woman one day said something that hurt her best friend of many years. She regretted it immediately and would have done anything to take the words back.But they were said in a moment of thoughtlessness,and as close as she and her friend were,she didn't consider the effects of her words beforehand.

What she said hurt her friend so much that this good woman was herself hurt for the pain she caused. In an effort to undo what she had done,she went to an older,wiser woman,explained her situation,and asked for advice.

The older woman listened patiently in an effort to determine just how sincere the younger woman was,how far she was willing to go to correct the situation. She explained that sometimes,in order to put things back in order,great efforts must be made.

She then asked，“Just what would you be willing to do to repair the harm done?”

The answer was heartfelt，“Anything！”

Listening to her,the older woman sensed the younger woman's distress and knew she must help her. She also knew she could never lessen her pain,but she could teach,if the younger woman would first listen and then learn.

She knew the outcome would depend solely on the character of the younger woman. She said，“There are two things you need to do to make amends.The first of the two is extremely difficult.

“Tonight,take your best feather pillows and open a small hole in each one. Then,before the sun rises,you must put a single feather on the doorstep of each house in town.

“When you are through,come back to me. If you've done the first thing completely,I'll tell you the second.”

The younger woman hurried home to prepare for her chore,even though the pillows were very dear and very expensive.

All night long,she labored alone in the wind. She went from doorstep to doorstep,taking care not to overlook a single house.Her fingers were frozen,the wind was so sharp it caused her eyes to water,but she ran on through the darkened street,thankful there was something she could do to put things back the way they once were.

Finally as the sky was getting light,she placed the last feather on the steps of the last house. Just as the sun rose,she returned to the older woman.

She was exhausted but relieved that her efforts would be rewarded.

“My pillows are empty. I placed a feather on the doorstep of each home.”

“Now，”said the wise woman，“Go back and refill your pillows. Then everything will be as it was before.”

The young woman was stunned.“You know that's impossible！The wind blew away each feather as fast as I placed them on the doorsteps！You didn't say I had to get them back！If this is the second requirement,then things will never be the same.”

“That's true，”said the older woman.“Never forget. Each of your words is like a feather in the wind.Once spoken,no amount of effort,regardless of how heartfelt or sincere,can never return them to your mouth.Choose your words well and guard them most of all in the presence of those you love.”

风中的羽毛

有一天，一个好女人无意间说了几句话，伤害了她交往多年的一位好友。她马上就感到后悔，愿意不惜一切收回自己说过的那些话。这些话都是她未经思索脱口说出的，而且她跟这位朋友情同姐妹，因此她事先根本就想不到自己说的话会有什么样的后果。

她的话深深地伤害了她的朋友，所以她自己也因为造成这样的伤害而备受折磨，心神不安。她想尽力与朋友重修旧好，就去找了一位长者，向长者解释了她目前的处境，并想虚心求教。

长者耐心地听着，以确定这个年轻女士的心有多诚，要弥补过失的愿望有多强。听完之后，长者解释说，有时为了恢复原状，需要付出巨大努力。

接下来，长者问：“请问，为了重修旧好，你愿意做什么？”

年轻女士的回答发自肺腑：“什么都愿意做。”

听着年轻女士的回答，长者知道年轻女士心里有多么痛苦，知道自己必须帮助她，同时也知道自己永远也无法减轻她的痛苦，但只要年轻女士愿意先听后学，她可以言传身教。

她知道结果如何完全取决于这个年轻女士的性格。她说：“要重修旧好，有两件事情你需要去做。其中第一件非常难做。

“今晚，带上你最好的羽毛枕头，每个枕头上都打开一个小孔。然后，在太阳出来之前，你必须在镇上每一家房前的台阶上放上一根羽毛。

“你做完后，再回到我这里。如果你善始善终做完了第一件事，我会告诉你第二件事怎么做。”

年轻女士匆忙回到家里准备起来，纵使那些枕头非常昂贵，而且她爱不释手。

整整一夜，她独自一人在寒风中忙活着。她在一家一家房前的台阶上放着羽毛，小心翼翼唯恐漏掉一家。天寒地冻，她的手指冻僵了；寒风呼号，她眼睛不停地流着泪，但她仍然坚持穿过黑黢黢的街道，谢天谢地，不管怎样，她可以做一些力所能及的事情来将功补过了。

最后，天渐渐放亮，她终于在最后一家的门阶上放上了最后一根羽毛。这个时候，太阳刚好升起。她又回到了那位长者的身边。

尽管筋疲力尽，但她如释重负，心里想着自己的努力终会有所回报。

“我那些枕头都空了。我在每一家门阶上都放上了一根羽毛。”

长者说：“现在，回去把那些羽毛再填进枕头里去，然后一切都会回到原状。”

年轻女士一下子目瞪口呆：“你知道那是不可能的事儿！我一把羽毛放在台阶上，风就飞快地把它们吹跑了！你没有说过我必须得把它们装回去呀！如果这就是第二个要求，那事情再也无法回到原状了。”

“你说得没错，”长者说，“切勿忘记。你说过的每一句话就像风中的羽毛一样。话一出口，任何的努力——无论这种努力是多么发自肺腑、真心实意——都不能再将这些话收回去了。在你所爱的人面前，说话要注意分寸，才能有备无患。”

When the Wind Blows

Years ago a farmer owned a land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands.Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic.They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic,wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops.As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job,he received a steady stream of refusals.

Finally,a short,thin man,well past middle age,approached the farmer.“Are you a good farmhand?”the farmer asked him.

“Well,I can sleep when the wind blows，”answered the little man.

Although puzzled by this answer,the farmer,desperate for help,hired him. The short man worked well around the farm,busy from dawn to dusk,and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work.

Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed,the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters.He shook the short man and yelled，“Get up！A storm is coming！Tie things down before they blow away！”

The short man rolled over in bed and said firmly，“No sir. I told you,I can sleep when the wind blows.”

Enraged by the response,the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead,he hurried outside to prepare for the storm.To his amazement,he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins.The cows were in the barn,the chickens were in the coops,and the doors were barred.The shutters were tightly secured.Everything was tied down.Nothing could blow away.

The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant,so he returned to his bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

When you're prepared spiritually and physically,you have nothing to fear.

当起风时

几年前，一个农场主在大西洋沿岸拥有一块土地，他经常打广告雇人。多数人都不愿在大西洋岸边的农场上干活，他们害怕横扫大西洋严重破坏建筑和庄稼的可怕风暴。这个农场主招工面试时，收到的是一连串坚定的拒绝。

最后，一名个子矮瘦、已过中年的男人走近农场主。“你是个干农活的能手吗？”农场主问他。

“是的，起风时我可以睡觉。”矮个子回答说。

尽管对这个回答感到迷惑，但农场主急需帮手，就雇用了他。这个矮个子在农场干活很卖劲，从早忙到晚。所以，农场主对他的工作非常满意。

后来，有一天夜里，从海面上呼呼刮来了大风。农场主从床上一跃而起，飞快提起灯笼，向隔壁雇工睡的地方跑去。他晃着那个矮个子大声喊道：“起来！风暴来了！趁还没刮跑，快把东西捆好！”

矮个子在床上翻了个身，口气坚定地说道：“不，先生，以前我告诉过你，刮风时我可以睡觉。”

听到这个回答，农场主勃然大怒，禁不住想把他当场解雇。不过，他没有这样做，而是赶紧跑出去应对暴风雨。让他惊愕的是，他发现所有的干草垛都已经盖上了防水油布，牛都在牲口棚里，小鸡待在鸡笼里，而且门闩也好了，百叶窗关得严严实实的，一切都拴牢了，什么东西都无法刮走。

农场主这才明白了雇工的话意。于是，当风刮起时，他也回自己的床上睡觉去了。

当你身心都做好准备时，就会无所畏惧。

Talking with a Flower

I stood in front of a flower growing alone in a deserted garden,located in a courtyard on the desert. The flower felt isolated,or it was what I imagined it like that.There was nothing but her in this place.I had thought she must be longing to have a green friend to comfort her solitude in the endless space.

I said to her，“Good morning！You are the most beautiful flower in here！”

She said，“What's the meaning of‘the most beautiful'?”

I knew that she was so modest that she didn't know she herself was beautiful. The law of the creator that the flowers all followed surprised me.I asked her again，“When you open up the path in the dark and heavy earth,what are you thinking about?Do you feel painful?”

The flower asked，“What is‘the pain'?”

I came to see that the pain only existed in the human life,so she didn't understand what pure beauty was.

I asked her again，“I'm so sorry. What are you thinking about now?”

She said，“I'm thinking about sending the fragrant moment to the air.”

I asked her，“Do you like the air to such a degree?”

She said，“The sun is the reason.”

I asked，“Have you fallen in love with the sun?”

The flower answered，“The sun gives me the energy and the heaven permits the sun to give me the energy that makes me full of fragrance,which will stay in my heart all the time. So I think,when the fragrance flows from me and into the air around me.And it is what is happening.”

I asked，“O Flower,what will you get from your devotion?”

The flower answered，“I don't think it over. Nor do I care about what I will get but give.”

I told her，“I expect you to answer my question. Think it over again,what kind of compensation and repayment from your giving?”

The flower said，“What is the repayment?”

I told her，“I appear to be talking with you in another language. I'm so sorry.What is your dream now?”

The flower answered，“Wither and fall and then go to the tranquil of old age. How wonderful the creation falls down the earth！It gives fragrance,leaving wisdom.”

与花儿私语

我站在一株花面前。它孤零零地生长在一座荒弃的花园里。花园坐落在沙漠中的一个庭院里。花儿感到孤寂，或者我是这样想象的。在这个地方没有任何别的东西，只有她。我以为她一定渴望着一个绿色伙伴，来慰藉她那无边空旷中的孤独。

我对她说：“早上好！你是这里最美丽的花朵！”

她说：“‘最美丽’是什么意思？”

我明白了，她太谦虚了，谦虚到这种程度——不知道自己是美丽的。造物主的法则——花儿们都顺从这法则——使我感到惊奇。我又问她：“你在泥土的黑暗和沉重中开辟道路时，想着什么？你感到很痛苦吗？”

花儿说：“什么叫‘痛苦’？”

我明白了，痛苦只存在于人类的生活中，而纯美也是她所不了解的。

我又问她：“我很遗憾，你现在想些什么？”

她说：“我在想给空气送去芬芳的时刻。”

我问她：“你喜欢空气到这种程度吗？”

她说：“太阳是原因。”

我说：“你陷入对太阳的爱了吗？”

花儿说：“太阳给我能量，上天恩准太阳给我能量，使我充满了馨香。这馨香将一直留在我的内心。所以，我想，何时芳香将从我溢出，散发在我周围的空气中。而这就是正在发生的事情。”

我问：“花儿哟，对你的奉献，你将得到什么？”

花儿说：“我不考虑这些。我不问将获得什么，我只给予。”

我对她说：“我希望你回答我的问题。再想一想，对你的给予你将得到何种补偿、何种回报？”

花儿说：“什么叫‘回报’？”

我对她说：“我似乎在和你用另一种语言说话。我很遗憾。你现在的梦想是什么？”

花儿说：“凋谢，走向老年的平静。创造物落于大地，这多么美妙啊！它给予馨香，留下智慧。”

A Maple

My neighbor Mrs. Gargan first told me about it.“Have you seen the tree?”she asked as I was sitting in the back yard enjoying the October twilight.

“The one down at the corner，”she explained.“It's a beautiful tree—all kinds of colors. Cars are stopping to look.You ought to see it.”

I told her I would,but I soon forgot about the tree. Three days later,I was jogging down the street,my mind swimming with petty worries,when a splash of bright orange caught my eye.For an instant,I thought someone's house had caught fire.Then I remembered the tree.

As I approached it,I slowed to a walk. There was nothing remarkable about the shape of the tree,a medium-sized maple.But Mrs.Gargan had been right about its colors.Like the messy whirl of an artist's palette,the tree blazed a bright crimson on its lower branches,burned with vivid yellows and oranges in its center,and simmered to deep burgundy at its top.Through these fiery colors cascaded thin rivulets of pale-green leaves and blotches of deep-green leaves,as yet untouched by autumn.

Edging closer—like a pilgrim approaching a shrine—I noticed several bare branches near the top,their black twigs scratching the air like claws. The leaves they had shed lay like a scarlet carpet around the trunk.

With its varied nations of color,this tree seemed to become a globe,embracing in its broad branches all seasons and continents；the spring and summer of the Southern Hemisphere in the light and dark greens,the autumn and winter of the Northern in the blazing yellows and bare branches. The whole planet seemed poised on the pivot of this pastiche.

As I marveled at this all-encompassing beauty,I thought of Ralph Waldo Emerson's comments about the stars. If the constellations appeared only once in a thousand years,he observed in“Nature，”imagine what an exciting event it would be.But because they're up there every night,we barely give them a look.

I felt the same way about the tree. Because its majesty will last only a week,it should be especially precious to us.And I had almost missed it.

Once when Emily Dickinson's father noticed a brilliant display of northern lights in the sky over Massachusetts,he tolled a church bell to alert townspeople. That's what I felt like doing about the tree.I wanted to become a Paul Revere of autumn,awakening the countryside to its wonder.

I didn't have a church bell or a horse,but as I walked home,I did ask each neighbor I passed the same simple but momentous question Mrs. Gargan had asked me：“Have you seen the tree?”

一棵枫树

起初，这件事是我的邻居贾根太太告诉我的。“你看到那棵树了吗？”当我坐在后院观赏10月的黄昏景色时，她问。

“街角那棵，”她解释道，“那是一棵美丽的树——五颜六色的。好多车子都停下来看呢。你应该去看一下才是。”

我告诉她说我会去看的，但很快我便将那棵树给忘到了脑后。3天后，我因一些鸡毛蒜皮的烦心事而心神不定，正懵懵懂懂地沿着大街慢跑。突然，一道鲜橙色彩映入了我的眼帘。一瞬间，我还以为是谁家的房子着火了呢。随后，我才想起了那棵树。

我走近那棵树时，放慢了脚步。那是一棵不高不低的枫树，外形毫无突出显眼之处。但是，贾根太太所说的颜色倒是不错。那棵枫树像画家的颜色斑斓的调色板一般，下枝鲜亮粉红，中部鲜黄与橙黄交相辉映，顶端渐至深红。通过这些火焰般的色泽，只见深深浅浅斑斑点点、尚未被秋天触摸的绿叶，小溪般涓涓流下。

我慢慢地向前移动脚步，像朝圣者走近圣殿一般。这时，我注意到在接近树顶的地方有几根秃枝，黑黢黢的枝条虬曲着指向天空，枝条上掉落的树叶如鲜红的毯子一般聚拢在树干四周。

这棵树色彩斑斓，变化多端，仿佛成了我们的地球，以其博大的枝蔓拥抱五洲和四季：那深深浅浅的绿色代表南半球的春夏季节，那耀眼夺目的黄色和秃枝则象征北半球的秋冬风光。整个地球似乎都落在了这只五光十色的制品的主轴上。

我惊叹其包罗万象的美的同时，想起了拉尔夫·瓦尔多·爱默生对星辰的有关论述。他在《自然》一书中说道，倘若星辰一千年仅出现一次，试想一下那该是何等激动人心的情景。但因为它们每天晚上都在夜空中出现，所以我们几乎对它们不屑一顾。

由此，我想到了那棵树。由于它的辉煌仅持续一周，因此它对我们应该是极其珍贵的。而我差点儿错失良机。

有一次，艾米丽·狄金森的父亲注意到马萨诸塞州上空北极光辉煌展现，便敲响教堂的钟声以警示市民。我想对那棵树也应该那样做。我想成为秋天的保罗·里维尔，去唤醒世人对美的发现。

我既没有教堂的钟，也没有保罗的马。但当我步行回家时，还是将贾根太太问我的那个简单而又重要的问题向遇到的每个邻居提了出来：“你看到那棵树了吗？”

The Catch of Lifetime

He was eleven years old and went fishing every chance he got from the dock as his family's cabin on an island in the middle of a New Hampshire's lake.

On the day before the bass season opened,he and his father were fishing early in the evening,catching sunfish and perch with worms. He tied on a small silver lure and practiced casting.The lure struck the water and caused golden ripples in the sunset,then silver ripples as the moon rose over the lake.

When his pole doubled over,he knew something huge was on the other end. His father watched with admiration as the boy skillfully worked the fish alongside the dock.

Finally,he very gingerly lifted the exhausted fish from the water. It was the largest one he had ever seen,but it was a bass.

The boy and his father looked at the handsome fish,gills playing back and forth in the moonlight. The father lit a match and looked at his watch.It was 10 p.m.two hours before the season opened.He looked at the fish,then at the bay.

“You'll have to put it back,son，”he said.

“Dad！”cried the boy.

“There will be other fish，”said the father.

“Not as big as this one，”cried the boy.

He looked around the lake. No other fishermen or boats were nowhere around in the moonlight.He looked again at his father.Even though no one had seen them,nor could anyone ever know what time he caught the fish,the boy could tell by the clarity of his father's voice that the decision was not negotiable.He slowly worked the hook out of the lip of the huge bass and lowered it into the black water.

The creature swished its powerful body and disappeared. The boy suspected that he would never again see such a great fish.

That was 34 years ago. Today,the boy is a successful architect in New York City.His father's cabin is still there on the island in the middle of the lake.He takes his own son and daughter fishing from the same dock.

And he was right. He has never again caught such a magnificent fish as the one he landed that night long ago.But he does see that same fish—again and again—every time he comes up against a question of ethics.

一生的收获

他已经11岁了。只要一有机会，他就会到新汉普郡湖心岛上他家小屋的码头钓鱼。

鲈鱼季节开放前的那天晚上，他和父亲早早地开始垂钓，用蠕虫作诱饵钓太阳鱼和鲈鱼。他系上银色的小诱饵，练习抛线。诱饵击在水面，在夕阳中荡起金色的涟漪。随后，当月亮冉冉升上湖面时，涟漪又变成了银色。

当鱼竿向下弯时，他知道线的另一端一定钓到了一条大鱼。父亲看着他动作熟练地在码头边钓鱼，眼中露出了赞赏的神情。

最后，他小心翼翼地将筋疲力尽的鱼拎出了水面。这是他见过的最大的一条鱼，但是一条鲈鱼。

男孩和父亲看着这条漂亮的鱼，鱼鳃在月光下一张一合的。父亲点燃一根火柴，看了看手表。已经是夜里10点了，离开放还有两个小时。他看了看鱼，然后又瞧了瞧男孩。

“儿子，你得把它放回去。”他说。

“爸爸！”男孩叫道。

“还会有其他鱼的。”父亲说。

“不会有这条大的。”男孩叫道。

他看了看湖四周。月光下没有其他的渔民或船只。他又看了一眼父亲，从父亲明白无误的口气中，他知道这个决定没有商量余地，即使没有人看到他们，也无从得知他们什么时候钓到了这条鱼。他慢慢地将鱼钩从大鲈鱼的嘴唇上取下来，然后将它放回了黑幽幽的水里。

鱼摆动着有力的身躯，消失在了水里。男孩想，他可能再也见不到这么大的一条鱼了。

那是34年前的事了。如今，男孩是纽约市一位功成名就的建筑师。他父亲的小屋仍在湖心岛上。他常常带着自己的儿女在同一个码头钓鱼。

而且他想得没错，他再也没有见过很久以前那天夜里钓到的那么大的鱼。但他每次面临道德难题时，他的眼前总是一次次浮现出那条鱼。

The Roses and Thorns

The twin sisters went into the rose garden. Soon afterwards,one of the girls ran back to her mother and said，“Mama,this is a bad place！”

“Why,my child?”

“Because there're thorns below each flower.”

After a while,the other girl ran to her mother and said，“Mama,this is a good place.”

“Why,my child?”

“Because there're flowers on each thorn in here.”

On hearing this,the mother was lost in thought.

Everything in the world both has a good side and a bad side；the key lies in from which point of view you will look at it.

玫瑰与荆棘

一对孪生小姑娘走进玫瑰园。不多久，其中一个小姑娘跑回来对母亲说：“妈妈，这里是个坏地方！”

“为什么呢，我的孩子？”

“因为这里的每朵花下面都有刺。”

不一会儿，另一个小姑娘跑来对母亲说：“妈妈，这里是个好地方。”

“为什么呢，我的孩子？”

“因为这里的每丛刺上都有花。”

母亲听了，沉思起来。

世间万物既有好的一面又有坏的一面，关键在于你从哪个角度去看。

When the Moon Follows Me

Each of my sons made the discovery early. We would be riding in the car at night,and the little voice would call out from the back seat，“Hey,the moon is following us！”I would explain that the moon was not actually gliding along with our car.There would be another period of critical observation and the final verdict,delivered more quietly this time：“But it really is moving.I can see it.”

I thought of that one evening as I was driving. The moon,one day short of fullness,rode with me,first gliding smoothly,then bounding over the bumpy stretches,now on my right,then straight ahead,the silver light washing over dry grasses in open fields,streaking along through black branches,finally disappearing as the road wound its way through the hills.

When I crested the hill in the village,there it was again—grown suddenly immense,ripe,flooding the town with a sprawling light so magical I began to understand why it is said to inspire“looniness.”I could hardly wait to get back home to show the boys.

Robert was in the bathtub,so I grabbed John.“Close your eyes and come see what followed me home，”I said,hoping to increase the dramatic impact. I led him out into the night.“Okay.Open！Isn't it beautiful?”

John blinked a few times and looked at me as if I might be loony.“Mom,it's just the moon. Is this the surprise?”I suppose he was hoping for a puppy.

I should have realized that,being only ten,he was probably too young to know how much we sometimes need the magic and romance of moonlight—a light that is nothing like the harsh glare of the sun that it reflects. Moonlight softens our faults；all shabbiness dissolves into shadow.It erases the myriad details that crowd and rush us in the sunlight,leaving only sharp outlines and highlights and broad brushstrokes—the fundamental shape of things.

Often in the soothing,restorative glow we stare transfixed,bouncing out ambitions and hopes and plans off this great reflector. We dream our dreams；we examine the structure of our lives；we make considered decisions.In a hectic,confusing world,it helps to step out into a quiet,clear swash of moonlight,to seek out the fundamentals and eschew the incidentals.

The night after I showed John the moon,he burst breathlessly through the door,calling，“Mom,come out for a minute！”This time,he led me,coatless and shivering. The driveway gravel crunched underneath our sneakers.From somewhere in the woods beyond the pond,the plaintive calls of geese honked and died away.

Past the row of pine trees that line the road,the sky opened up with the full moon on it,suspended so precariously close that it might come hurtling toward us—incandescent,even larger and more breathtaking than the night before,climbing its motionless climb over the molten silver of our pond. Even a ten-year-old could see this wasn't just the moon.This was The Moon.

When I turned around,John was grinning,expectant,studying my face intently to see if he had pleased me. He had.I knew that now the moon was following him too.

月随人走

我的每个儿子早就发现了。我们夜里驾车回家，后座常常传来一声叫喊，“嘿，月亮在跟着我们！”我向他们解释说，月亮并不是真的随着我们的车子滑行。孩子又经过了一段时间的审慎观察，做出了最后的裁定。这次声音更平静了：“它真的在移动。我可以看得到。”

我记得那天晚上我驾车的情景。那是一轮亏月，始终伴我前行，起初是平稳滑行，然后在崎岖不平的路上开始跳跃，时而在我右侧，时而又在我正前方，银色的月光洒在空旷的草地上，飞快地穿过黑黢黢的树枝。最后，当道路沿着群山蜿蜒盘行时，月亮便消失了。

我到达村里的山顶时，月亮再次出现，这次突然变得硕大、圆满，月光匍匐着洒满了整个镇子，是那样变幻莫测，我才开始明白了为什么月亮能激发“狂想”。我迫不及待想赶回家让孩子们观看。

罗伯特正在浴缸里洗澡，所以我飞快地拎起约翰。“闭上眼睛，看看谁跟着我一起回家了，”我说，希望增加戏剧性的效果。我领着他走进了夜幕。“好了，睁开吧！是不是漂亮极了？”

约翰眨了几下眼睛，然后看着我，好像我是个疯子。“妈妈，这不过是一轮月亮罢了，有什么大惊小怪的？”我猜他希望是一只小狗。

我早该意识到，他才10岁，年纪还太小，无法知道有时我们是多么需要月光的魅力和浪漫——一道太阳折射出的耀眼光芒。月光减轻了我们的过失；所有的罪孽都溶解在月影之中。它擦去了阳光下充斥我们的无数细枝末节，仅留下了鲜明的轮廓、强光部分和宽宽的线条——事物基本的形态。

我们常常沐浴在心旷神怡的光里，目不转睛地看着，将我们的抱负和希望从这个大反射器上跳开。我们异想天开；我们审视生活结构；我们深思熟虑做出决定。在这个熙来攘往的世界，月光帮助我们步入了宁静亮堂的地带，寻找生活真谛，避开繁文缛节。

我领着约翰看过月亮后的那天夜里，他从门口气喘吁吁地喊道：“妈妈，出来一会儿！”这次，他领着未穿外衣、瑟瑟发抖的我。我们的运动鞋踩在车道的沙砾上嘎吱嘎吱响个不停。从池塘边的树林里传来一群大雁的鸣叫，然后又渐渐消失了。

穿过路边的那排松树，天空开阔，中天悬挂着一轮满月。月亮近在咫尺，岌岌可危，像要冲我们猛撞过来——闪闪发亮，比昨晚的更大、更惊人，笼罩着整个池塘，波光粼粼，犹如熔化的银子。就连一个10岁的孩子都能看出这不仅仅是一轮月亮。这是一个月球。

我转过身后，只见约翰笑眯眯的，充满了期待，热切地注视着我，看看是否让我感到高兴。他如愿以偿。我知道现在月亮也在跟着他了。

A Big Tree and a Young Tree

A young father asked an elderly neighbor how strict parents should be with their children.

The old man pointed to a rope between a big tree and a young one,saying，“Untie the rope.”

The young father did so and at once the young tree bent. Then the old man asked the young man to tie it again,and immediately the young tree stood upright as it used to.

Now the old man said，“There,it is the same with children. You must be strict with them for their healthy growth.But sometimes you must let them stand alone to see if they are strong enough.Being strict with them is for the sake of their independence development.”

大树和小树

一位年轻父亲问一位上年纪的邻居，父母亲应该如何严格对待自己的孩子。

老人指着一根绑在一棵大树和一棵小树之间的绳子说：“解开绳子。”

年轻父亲解开绳子，小树马上弯下了腰。随后，老人让年轻父亲又绑好了绳子，小树马上又像先前那样站得笔直了。

这时，老人说道：“瞧，这和养孩子一样。为了他们健康成长，你必须严格要求他们。但有时，你必须让他们自立，看他们是否足够强壮。严格要求他们，是为了他们独立发展。”

A Young Apple Tree

A poor farmer had a friend who was famous for the wonderful apple he grew.

One day,his friend gave the farmer a young apple tree and told him to take it home and plant it. The farmer was pleased with the gift,but when he got home he did not know where to plant it.

He was afraid that if he planted the tree near the road,strangers would steal the fruit. If he planted the tree in one of his field,his neighbors would come at night and steal some of the apples.If he planted the tree near his house,his children would take the fruit.Finally he planted the tree in his wood where no one could see it.But without sunlight and good soil,the tree soon died.

Later the friend asked the farmer why he had planted the tree it such a poor place.“What's the difference?”the farmer said angrily.“If I had planted the tree near the road,strangers would have stolen the fruit. If I had planted the tree in one of my fields,my neighbors would have come at night and stolen some of the apples.If I had planted it near my house,my own children would have taken the fruit.”

“Yes，”said the friend，“but at least someone could have enjoyed the fruit. Now you not only have robbed everyone of the fruit,but also you have destroyed a good apple tree！”

一棵小苹果树

一个穷困的农夫有一个朋友，这个朋友因为种了神奇的苹果树而远近闻名。

有一天，农夫的这个朋友送给他一棵小苹果树。农夫对这个礼物非常高兴。但当他回到家时，却不知道将它栽在什么地方。

他担心如果把苹果树栽在路边，陌生人就会偷树上的苹果；如果把树栽在自己的一块地里，邻居们夜里就会过来偷苹果；如果把树栽在自己的房边，他的孩子们就会摘苹果。最后，他把那棵树栽在了林子里，那里没人能看见。但没有阳光和沃土，树不久就死了。

后来，朋友问农夫他为什么把树栽在那样贫瘠的地方。“那有什么不一样？”农夫生气地说，“我把苹果树栽在路边，陌生人就会偷树上的苹果。我把树栽在自己的一块地里，邻居们夜里就会过来偷苹果。我把树栽在自己的房边，我的孩子们就会摘苹果。”

“是的，”他的朋友说，“但至少可能有人来分享这些果实。现在你不仅剥夺了每个人的果实，也毁了一棵好苹果树！”

The Power of a Bee

One afternoon a few summers ago,I had been clearing brush in the mountains for several hours and decided to reward myself with lunch. Sitting on a log,I unwrapped a sandwich and surveyed the rugged scenery.Two turbulent streams joined to form a clear,deep pool before roaring down a heavily wooded canyon.

My idyll would have been perfect had it not been for a persistent bee that began buzzing around me. The bee was of the common variety that plagues picnickers.Without thinking,I brushed it away.

Not the least intimidated,the bee came back and buzzed me again. Now,losing patience,I swatted the pest to the ground and crunched it into the sand with my boot.

Moments later I was startled by a minor explosion of sand at my feet. My tormentor emerged with its wings buzzing furiously.This time I took no chances.I stood up and ground the insect into the sand with all my 210 pounds.

Once more I sat down to my lunch. After several minutes I became aware of a slight movement near my feet.A broken but still living bee was feebly emerging from the sand.

Beguiled by its survival,I leaned down to survey the damage. The right wing was relatively intact,but the left was crumpled like a piece of paper.Nevertheless,the bee kept exercising the wings slowly up and down,as though assessing the damage.It also began to groom its sand-encrusted thorax and abdomen.

Next the bee turned its attention to the bent left wing,rapidly smoothing the wing by running its legs down the length. After each straightening session,the bee buzzed its wings as if to test the lift.This hopeless cripple thought is could still fly！

I got down on my hands and knees to better see these futile attempts Closer scrutiny confirmed the bee was finished—it must be finished. As a veteran pilot,I knew a good deal about wings.

But the bee paid no attention to my superior wisdom. It seemed to be gaining strength and increasing the tempo of its repairs.The bent veins that stiffened the gossamer wing were nearly straight now.

At last the bee felt sufficiently confident to attempt a trial flight. With an audible buzz it released its grip on the earth—and flew into a rise in the sand not more than three inches away.The little creature hit so hard that it tumbled.More frantic smoothing and flexing followed.

Again the bee lifted off,this time flying six inches before hitting another mound. Apparently the bee had regained the lift in its wings but had not mastered the directional controls.Like a pilot learning the peculiarities of a strange airplane,it experimented with short hops that ended ignominiously.After each crash the bee worked furiously to correct the newly discovered structural deficiencies.

Once more it took off,this time clearing the sand but heading straight toward a stump. Narrowly avoiding it,the bee checked its forward speed,circled and then drifted slowly over the mirror-like surface of the pool as if to admire its own reflection.As the bee disappeared,I realized that I was still on my knees,and I remained on my knees for some time.

一只蜜蜂的威力

几年前夏天的一个下午，我在清理山上的灌木丛，连续干了好几个小时后，决定吃午饭犒劳一下自己。我坐在一根圆木上，打开一块三明治，观察着层峦叠嶂的山景，只见两条汹涌的小溪呼啸着流过林木茂密的峡谷后汇合成一泓清澈见底的深潭。

要不是一只固执的蜜蜂一直在我身边嗡嗡乱叫，我的田园生活情趣本应是非常完美的。这是那种干扰野餐者的普通蜜蜂，我不假思索就将它赶跑了。

蜜蜂毫不畏惧，又飞回来朝我嗡嗡叫了起来。这次，我失去耐心，猛地把这个害虫拍到地上，并用靴子将它踩进了沙地里。

过了一会儿，发现脚下沙地微微响了一声，我吃了一惊，折磨我的这个东西拼命扇着翅膀又钻了出来。这次，我不再给它机会了。我站起来，用我210磅的体重将这只昆虫踩进了沙地里。

我再次坐下来吃午饭。几分钟后，我感到脚边又微微动了一下。只见那只受伤却仍活着的蜜蜂又从沙里有气无力地钻了出来。

我被它的生命力迷住了，弯下腰去查看它受的伤势。右边的翅膀相对完整，但左边的翅膀被压得像一张纸一样。不过，这只蜜蜂一直在慢慢地上下拍动着翅膀，好像要确定一下自己的伤势。同时，它也开始修整起沙土包裹的胸部和腹部。

接下来，蜜蜂把注意力转向了左边被弄弯了的翅膀，迅速用腿在翅膀上滑动捋平翅膀。每捋一段时间后，蜜蜂就嗡嗡嗡扇动翅膀，似乎要测试它的提升力。这只没有希望的瘸子还以为自己能飞呢！

为了更好看清它无效的努力，我双膝两手趴在地上；进一步细查之后，证实这个蜜蜂完了，它肯定不行了。作为一名富有经验的飞行员，我对翅膀了如指掌。

但蜜蜂对我的超人智慧并不在意。它似乎在积蓄力量，并加快了修复的速度。由于翅脉弯曲，使它轻而薄的翅膀变得僵硬，但现在几乎又平展起来了。

最后，蜜蜂感觉有足够的信心可以试飞一次了。随着一阵清晰可闻的嗡嗡声，它离开了地面，然后飞到了距离不足3英寸的一个沙丘上。小东西撞得太猛，所以翻滚了几下。接着是拼命捋翅和收缩屈伸。

蜜蜂再次飞起，这次飞了6英寸，然后撞到了另一个土墩上。显然，蜜蜂已经得到了启动翅膀的力量，但还掌握不住方向。像飞行员在学习掌握一架奇怪飞机的特性一样，它在试飞几个短途，最后落得很不光彩。每次坠落后，蜜蜂都拼命动作，以纠正新发现的结构上的不足。

它再次起飞，这次清除了身上的沙子，径直朝着一个树桩飞去。它偏了一点，躲过树桩，检查了前飞的速度，绕了一圈，慢慢地飞过镜子般明亮的湖面，仿佛是要欣赏自己的倒影。蜜蜂消失后，我才意识到自己仍跪在地上，并且跪了好一阵子。

The Boy and the Walnuts

A boy once found a jar full of walnuts and raisins in his mother's kitchen and he put his hand in to help himself to hold as many as he could. When he tried to take his hand out of the jar,however,he found that the opening was too small for his clenched fist to pass through.

“What shall I do?”he wailed.“My hand will be stuck in this jar for ever.”

Just then his mother came in.

“Really，”she said.“there's nothing to make such a fuss about. Try taking half as many as walnuts and raisins you have in your hand and you'll find it will come out of the jar quite easily.”

男孩与核桃

有一次，一个小男孩在他妈妈的厨房里发现了一个装满核桃和葡萄干的罐子，便将手伸进去，想尽可能多抓一把。然而，他设法抽出手时，却发现罐口太小，他抓着核桃的手怎么也出不去。

“我怎么办呢？”他大声哭道，“我的手会永远被卡在这个罐子里的。”

正在这时，他的妈妈走了进来。

“其实，”她说，“这没有什么可大惊小怪的。试着抓一半的核桃和葡萄干，你的手轻而易举就会出来了。”

First Snow

He wasn't sure what had awakened him. Perhaps the child had made some small noise in his sleep.But as he peeked from beneath the covers,his gaze was drawn not to the cradle but to the window.

It was then that he realized what had sneaked through the shield of his slumbers. It was the sense of falling snow.

Quietly,so as not to disturb the child's mother,he rose from the bed and inched toward the cradle. Reaching down,he gently lifts the warm bundle to his shoulder.Then,as he tiptoed from the bedroom,she lifted her head,opened her eyes and—daily does of magic—smiled up at her dad.

He carried her downstairs,counting the creaks on the way. Together,they settled in at the kitchen table,and adult in him slipped away.Two children now,they pressed their noses against the glass.

The light from the street lamp on the corner filtered down through the birch trees,casting a glow as green as a summer memory upon the winter-brown backyard. From the distance can the endless echo of the stoplight,flashing in ruby message,teasing like a dawn that would not come.

The flakes were falling thick and hard now,pouring past window,a waterfall of mystery. Occasionally,one would stick to the glass,as if reluctant to tumble to its fate.Then,slowly,slipping and sliding down the glass,it would melt,its beauty fleeting gone.

Within an hour,a white table was spread up on the lawn. And as gray streaks of dawn unraveled along the bleak seam of the distant hills,father and daughter watched the new day ripple across the neighborhood.

A porch light came on. A car door slammed.A television flickered.

Across the street,a family scurried into gear. But this day was different.Glimpsed through undraped windows as they darted from room to room,the slim figures of the children seemed to grow ever father until,finally,the kitchen door flew open and out burst three awesomely bundled objects that set instantly to rolling in the snow.

He wonders where they had learned this behavior. Even the littlest one,for whom this must have been the first real snowfall,seemed to know instinctively what to do.

They rolled in it,they tasted it,they packed it into balls and tossed it at one another. Then,just when he thought they might not know everything,they set about shaping a snowman on the crest of the hill.

By the time the snowman's nose was in place,the neighborhood was fully awake. A car whined in protest,but skidded staunchly out of its driveway.Buses ground forward like Marines,determined to take the hill.And all the while,the baby sat secure and warm in his arms.

He knew,of course,that she wouldn't remember any of this. For her there would be other snowfalls to recall.But for him,it was her first.Their first.And the memory would stay,cold and hard,fresh in his thoughts,long after the snowman melted.

第一场雪

他拿不准是什么把他从睡梦中唤醒的，也许是孩子在梦里发出的一些小小的声响吧。但当他从被子下面探出头悄悄向外看时，吸引他的目光的不是摇篮，而是窗户。

这时，他才意识到是什么偷偷穿过了自己的梦境。是他感觉到了落雪纷飞。

为了不惊醒孩子的母亲，他默默地从床上起来，一步一步走向摇篮，俯下身轻轻地抱起暖烘烘的襁褓，然后蹑手蹑脚走出卧室，她抬起头，睁开眼睛，对爸爸露出了微笑，她每天都这样妙不可言。

他抱着她下楼，小心翼翼，唯恐弄出响声。他们一起在厨房的餐桌边停下来。他心中那种成人感悄悄溜走。现在是两个孩子将鼻子贴在玻璃上。

街角路灯的光透过白桦树照下来，犹如在冬天褐色的后园投下一道夏日记忆一样的绿光。红色尾灯从远处源源不断地照过来，闪动着红宝石般的讯号，就像迟迟不来的黎明在逗人。

现在雪花越下越密、越下越大了，纷纷扬扬飘过窗户，就像神秘的瀑布似的。有时，一片雪花会粘在玻璃上，好像是不甘于命运，于是顺着玻璃慢慢滑落、融化，它的美丽转瞬即逝。

不到一小时，草坪就铺上了一块雪白的台布。随后，一道道灰蒙蒙的曙光沿着远山黯淡的接缝铺散开来，父女俩目不转睛地望着新的一天波纹状穿过街坊四邻。

一盏门廊灯亮了起来，一扇车门咚地关上，一台电视闪了起来。

街对面的一家匆匆拉开了窗帘。但今天不一样，透过拉开窗帘的窗户，只见那家的几个孩子在几个房间里跑来跑去，瘦小的身影似乎变得越来越胖，最后厨房门飞快地打开，突然蹦出来3个包裹得严严实实的东西，立刻在雪地里打起滚来。

他不知道他们是在哪里学的这种举止。即便是那个最小的孩子似乎本能地知道该干什么，因为这肯定是他真正经历的第一场降雪。

他们在雪地里打滚，他们把雪放在嘴里品尝，他们团起雪球打起了雪仗。随后，正在他想他们不可能什么都知道时，他们开始在斜坡顶上堆起了雪人。

待他们堆好雪人的鼻子时，邻居们全都醒了。一辆汽车呜呜叫着，以示抗议，但还是坚定地滑到了一边。公共汽车像舰队似的旋转向前，决定爬上前面的斜坡。而他的宝宝却一直安全可靠暖暖地坐在他的怀里。

当然，他知道，她不会记住这一切。对她来说，还会有别的雪景去回忆。但对他来说，这是她的第一场雪，是他们的第一场雪。就算那个雪人融化后很久，这场雪也会带着阵阵寒意，让他记忆犹新。

The Revelation of Lilacs

“I can't believe it. These blooms have lasted so long this year，”my wife said.

“I hadn't really thought about it,but you are right. As much as I love lilacs,they come and go so fast，”I said.

It has been incredibly exciting this year here in my backyard. Our lilac tree has produced the most blooms I have ever seen.The scent is so wonderful that I spend a lot of time just standing on our small deck breathing it all in.

Many of the branches are hollow and cracked leaving me to believe it has seen many springs. A few winters ago one of the biggest branches crashed to the ground under the weight of melting snow.It broke my heart.I guess I wasn't expecting much from the old thing this year.But it is magnificent！

Since we have been experiencing so much rain lately the flowers have become heavier. The once tall bush seems to be under a lot of pressure.I can relate to that.

Sadly,today I noticed the first bunch of flowers turning brown. It won't be long until they are all gone.But here's what I've learned from it.

Some people are like fragrant flowers. They come into our lives ever so briefly and leave behind a scent that remains embedded in our being.They brighten your day by just having had contact with them even if for a moment.If kindness would have scent it would remind you of them.

Like when I smell pine,all the best Christmas memories rush through my mind. When I smell roses I think of romantic,moon-filled evenings.

Some people,having given so much to you,remain a part of who you are forever. You cannot possibly go through a day without thinking about them.Their beautiful spirit gently nudges your heart each time you hear their name.The very thought of them stirs within your soul like the sweet fragrance of a thousand roses.

Loved ones who have passed on,having given their lives to you,having stayed in bloom through a lifetime of eternal spring,are like these lilacs. Although my heart is saddened having discovered that they are dying,I will not remember them that way.I will forever see a thousand blooms each time I think of them.In the coldest,darkest days of the winter of my life,the memory of them will get me through it all.Even the slightest fragrance will bring a smile to my face and my heart will pound remembering the love.

I'm thankful every day not only for the beauty of the people in my life,but for the lingering fragrance and everlasting memories of ever having loved them at all.

Loving them and life means I will have spring forever in my heart.

紫丁香的启示

“我无法相信，今年这些花开了这么久。”妻子说。

“我确实没有想过，但你说得对。我喜欢紫丁香，它们来去匆匆。”我说。

今年我家后院的景象让人无比兴奋，我们的紫丁香树从来没有开过这么多花。紫丁香芬芳四溢，好多时候我都站在小露台上尽情呼吸它的香气。

紫丁香的好多枝条已经中空裂开，这使我相信这棵紫丁香树已经历了好多个春天。几年前的一个冬天，由于积雪融化，这棵树上最大的一个枝条被压落到了地上，这让我很伤心。我以为今年这棵老树没有多大指望了，但它太棒了！

我们这里最近雨水一直很多，所以紫丁香花开得越来越多。从前高大的树丛似乎承受了很大压力。我能理解那种情况。

让我伤心的是，今天我注意到第一丛花渐渐变成了褐色，过不了多久它们就会全部凋谢。但我从中也有所领悟。

有些人就像芬芳的鲜花。他们在我们的生活中是那样短暂，却留下一缕清香，深深地嵌入我们的生命。即使和他们只有瞬间的接触，这些人也会照亮我们的人生。如果友善具有芳香，它会使你想起这些人。

就像我一闻到松树的香气，圣诞节最美好的回忆便会一下子涌上心头。我闻到玫瑰的芳香时，便会想起月华满天的浪漫之夜。

有些人给了你这么多便成了你永恒的一部分。如果你不想他们，就可能过不了某一天。每次听到他们的名字，他们美丽的灵魂都会轻轻触及你的心灵。你灵魂深处对他们的想念犹如千朵玫瑰那样甜蜜芬芳。

那些你爱的把生命传给你的人绽放在生命永恒的春天里，就像这些紫丁香一样。尽管我发现这些花快要凋谢，感到伤心，但我不会那样回忆它们。每次想起它们时，我都会永远看到百花绽放的情景。在生命里最寒冷、最黑暗的冬天，一想起它们，我就会挺过去。哪怕是最细微的芳香，也能让我露出笑脸，让我在怦然心动中想起爱。

我每天充满感激，不仅是因为我身边那些好人，也因为爱他们而产生的袅袅芳香和永久回忆。

爱他们、爱人生，就意味着我将在心里拥有永恒的春天。

Mahogany

The open ground in front of my home in the countryside was leased to the other to plant mahogany seedlings. After the seedlings planted,the man who planted the trees would always water them every other day.The number of days he came had no rules,sometimes three days,sometimes five days,sometimes more than ten days.The quantity of watering was not steady,sometimes more,sometimes less.The mahogany sometimes suddenly withered,so when he came,he always brought some seedlings to replant.

Initially,I thought he was so lazy that he would water the trees as a long time passed. But how would a lazy man know how many trees had withered?He said，“Planting the trees is the foundation of 100 years,so the trees have to learn to find the water in the earth.I water,just to imitate God's rain that is not exactly calculated.If they cannot grow in this uncertainty by drawing water,the seedlings will naturally wither.But as long as they find the water in this uncertainty and struggle to take roots,they will grow into the trees of 100 years out of question，”the man said in earnest.“If I pour a certain amount of water every day,the seedlings will become dependent on me,and their roots will grow on the surface and cannot go deep into the ground,so once I stop watering,the seedlings will wilt even more.The seedlings that have survived will collapse when they encounter a violent storm.”

What he said moved me very much. I think that it is not only a tree,but also human beings.In the uncertainty,we will develop an independent mind,turn the tiny nutrients into the huge energy and try to grow.

桃花心木

乡下老家前面的空地租给人家种桃花心木的树苗。树苗种下来后，植树人总是隔几天才来浇水。他来的天数并没有规则，有时三天，有时五天，有时十几天来一次。浇水的量也不一定，有时浇得多，有时浇得少。桃花心木有时就莫名地枯萎了，所以他来时总会带几株树苗补种。

我起先认为他太懒，隔那么久才为树浇水。但懒的人怎么会知道有几棵树枯萎了呢？他说：“种树是百年基业，所以树木自己要学会在土地里找水源。我浇水只是模仿老天下雨，老天下雨是算不准的。如果无法在这种不确定中汲水生长，树苗很自然就枯萎了。但只要在不确定中找到水源、拼命扎根，长成百年的大树就不成问题了，”种树人语重心长地说，“如果我每天都来定量浇水，树苗就会养成依赖的心，根就会浮生在地表上，无法深入地底，一旦我停止浇水，树苗会枯萎得更多。幸而可以存活的树苗，遇到狂风暴雨，也是一吹就倒了。”

植树者言，使我非常感动，想到不只是树，人也是一样。在不确定中，我们会养成独立自主的心，把很少的养分转化为巨大的能量，努力生长。

A Picture of Human Life

Obidah,the son of Abnesina,left the caravansary early in the morning,and pursued his journey through the plains of Hindostan. He was fresh and vigorous with rest；he was animated with hope；he was incited by desire；he walked swiftly forward over the valleys,and saw the hills gradually rising before him.

As he passed along,his ears were delighted with the morning song of the bird of paradise；he was fanned by the last flutters of the sinking breeze,and sprinkled with dew by groves of spices；he sometimes contemplated towering height of the oak,monarch of the hills；and sometimes caught the gentle fragrance of the primrose,eldest daughter of the spring；all his senses were gratified,and all care was banished from his heart.

Thus he went on,till the sun approached his meridian,and the increasing heat preyed upon his strength；he then looked round about him for some more commodious path. He saw,on his right hand,a grove that seemed to wave its shades as a sign of invitation；he entered it,and found the coolness and verdure irresistibly pleasant.He did not,however,forget whither he was traveling,but found a narrow way,bordered with flowers,which appeared to have the same direction with the main road,and was pleased,that,by this happy experiment,he had found means to unite pleasure with business,and to gain the rewards of diligence without suffering its fatigues.

He,therefore,still continued to walk for a time,without the least remission of his ardor,except that he was sometimes tempted to stop by the music of the birds,which the heat had assembled in the shade,and sometimes amused himself with picking the flowers that covered the banks on each side,or the fruits that hung upon the branches. At last,the green path began to decline from its first tendency,and to wind among the hills and thickets,cooled with fountains,and murmuring with waterfalls.

Here Obidah paused for a time,and began to consider whether it was longer safe to forsake the known and common track；but,remembering that the heat was now in its greatest violence,and that the plain was dusty and uneven,he resolved to pursue the new path,which he supposed only to make a few meanders,in compliance with the garieties of the ground,and to end at last in the common road.

Having thus calmed his solicitude,he renewed his pace,though he suspected he was not gaining ground. This uneasiness of his mind inclined him to lay hold on every new object,and give way to every sensation that might soothe or divert him.He listened to every echo,he mounted every hill for a fresh prospect,he turned aside to every cascade,and pleased himself with tracing the course of a gentle river that rolled among the trees,and watered a large region,with innumerable circumvolutions.

In these amusements,the hours passed away uncounted；his deviations had perplexed his memory,and he knew not toward what point to travel. He stood pensive and confused,afraid to go forward lest he should go wrong,yet conscious that the time of loitering was now past.While he was thus tortured with uncertainty,the sky was overspread with clouds,the day vanished from before him,and a sudden tempest gathered round his head.

He was now roused by his danger to a quick and painful remembrance of his folly；he now saw how happiness is lost when ease is consulted；he lamented the unmanly impatience that prompted him to seek shelter in the grove,and despised the petty curiosity that led him on from trifle to trifle. While he was thus reflecting,the air grew blacker and a clap of thunder broke his meditation.

He now resolved to do what remained yet in his power；to tread back the ground which he had passed,and try to find some issue where the wood might open into the plain. He prostrated himself upon the ground,and commended his life to the Lord of nature.He rose with confidence and tranquillity,and pressed on with his saber in his hand；for the beasts of the desert were in motion,and on every hand were heard the mingled howls of rage,and fear,and ravage,and expiration；all the horrors of darkness and solitude surrounded him；the winds roared in the woods,and the torrents tumbled from the hills.

Thus,forlorn and distressed,he wandered through the wild without knowing whither he was going or whether he was every moment drawing nearer to safety or to destruction. At length,not fear but labor began to overcome him；his breath grew short,and his knees trembled,and he was on the point of lying down,in resignation to his fate,when he beheld,through the brambles,the glimmer of a taper.He advanced toward the light,and finding that it proceeded from the cottage of a hermit,he called humbly at the door,and obtained admission.The old man set before him such provisions as he had collected for himself,on which Obidah fed with eagerness and gratitude.

When the repast was over，“Tell me，”said the hermit，“by what chance thou hast been brought hither；I have been now twenty years an inhabitant of this wilderness,in which I never saw a man before.”Obidah then related the occurrences of his journey,without any concealment or palliation.

“Son，”said the hermit，“let the errors and follies,the dangers and escapes,of this day,sink deep into your heart. Remember,my son,that human life is the journey of a day.We rise in the morning of youth,full of vigor,and full of expectation；we set forward with spirit and hope,with gayety and with diligence,and travel on awhile in the straight road of piety toward the mansions of rest.In a short time we remit our fervor,and endeavor to find some mitigation of our duty,and some more easy means of obtaining the same end.

“We then relax our vigor,and resolve no longer to be terrified with crimes at a distance,but rely upon our own constancy,and venture to approach what we resolve never to touch. We thus enter the bowers of ease,and repose in the shades of security.Here the heart softens,and vigilance subsides；we are then willing to inquire whether another advance can not be made,and whether we may not at least turn our eyes upon the gardens of pleasure.We approach them with scruple and hesitation；we enter them,but enter timorous and trembling,and always hope to pass through them without losing the road of virtue,which we for a while keep in our sight,and to which we propose to return.

“But temptation succeeds temptation,and one compliance prepares us for another；we,in time,lose the happiness of innocence,and solace our disquiet with sensual gratifications. By degrees we let fall the remembrance of our original intention,and quit the only adequate object of rational desire.We entangle ourselves in business,immerge ourselves in luxury,and rove through the labyrinths of inconstancy till the darkness of old age begins to invade us,and disease and anxiety obstruct our way.We then look back upon our lives with horror,with sorrow,and with repentance；and wish,but too often vainly wish,that we had not forsaken the paths of virtue.

“Happy are they,my son,who shall learn,from thy example,not to despair,but shall remember that though the day is past,and their strength is wasted,there yet remains one effort to be made；that reformation is never hopeless,nor sincere endeavors ever unassisted；that the wanderer may at length return after all his errors；and that he who implores strength and courage from above,shall find danger and difficulty give way before him. Go now,my son,to thy repose：commit thyself to the care of Omnipotence；and when the morning calls again to toil,begin anew thy journey and thy life.”

人生风景画

阿比尼西的儿子奥比达一大清早就离开了商队旅馆，开始了他穿越印度斯坦高原的旅程。休息一晚上之后，他感觉神清气爽、精力旺盛，他满怀希望，被欲望激励着，轻快地走过山谷，面前渐渐有山峰出现。

当他一路行走的时候，耳边传来清晨鸟儿阵阵婉转的晨歌。最后，一股柔和的晨风迎面吹来，时不时还会有林间的露珠洒在他身上。他有时会注视那高耸的橡树，那是山丘上的君主；有时他会闻到樱草花的香气，那是春天的长女；他的感官得到了极大的满足和享受，他所有的忧虑全都抛到了脑后。

他继续向前走，直到太阳升到他的头顶，他感到越来越热，这使他筋疲力尽，所以他停下来审视四周，希望可以找到一条更怡人的路。在他的右手边，有一个树林似乎在以它的阴凉召唤他到那儿一游。他走进去，发现那儿又凉快又清新，环境宜人，让人不想离开；但是他没有忘记这次旅行的目的地，所以他选择了一条路边开着小花的路，这条小路似乎和大道的方向相同；更让他高兴的是，通过这件事他找到了折中的乐趣和解决问题的方法。这样他既能享受勤奋的成果，又不用忍受路途中的劳累。

所以，他继续往前走了一段时间。他的热情没有丝毫减退，有时他会被因为炎热而躲在树荫下的小鸟的叫声吸引，驻足欣赏一会儿它们美妙的歌喉；或者有时候他会摘下河边的小花或树枝上的果实，自娱自乐一会儿。最后，那绿色小道的地势慢慢下降了，并且在山丘和灌木丛中蜿蜒而去，一路上只见清泉生凉，水瀑呜咽。

奥比达在此停留了片刻，他考虑到，离开那熟悉的大道会不会不安全，但一想到现在正是酷热淫威最盛的时候，他决定还是走这条新发现的小路。他想，这条路应该是根据地形的变化转一些弯，最终它会与大道会合的。

就这样平息了顾虑之后，他又重新上路了，尽管他怀疑自己好像并没有向前行进。这种不安的心情促使他不放过任何一个新鲜事物，并且一产生什么能让他感到欣慰和愉悦的念头，他就立刻照着这个念头去做。他倾听每一个回声，攀登每一座山丘来查看方向。他朝着每个瀑布的方向走去，然后跟着潺潺流动的溪流向前走，只见溪流蜿蜒流过树林，浇灌到一大片区域，在那里又延伸出无数弯弯曲曲的分支。

时间不知不觉在欢快的旅行中过去了，他这样七转八弯地走着，弄得自己也记不清走过的路了，他不知道接下来该去哪儿。他忧郁而困惑地站在那儿，因为怕走错路，所以站在那里不敢往前去，但是此刻他很明白，闲逛的时候已经过去了，现在该一心赶路了。正当他犹豫不决、非常苦恼的时候，天空被乌云遮住了，天色很快就暗了下来，一团突如其来的云团在他的头顶上迅疾积聚。

现在所面临的危险让他对自己的愚蠢行为进行了一次快速而痛苦的检讨。这时他明白了为什么贪图安逸会导致幸福丧失。他为自己的娇气和急躁感到悲伤，是它们促使他去树林中寻求庇护，他也嘲笑自己为了小小的好奇心就在细小的枝节上纠缠不清。在他反省的时候，天色变得更暗了，一声响雷打断了他的思绪。

他现在决定去做一件他力所能及的事情：按原路返回，同时找找看，有没有从树林通向平原的出口。他全身伏倒在地，把自己的命运交给大自然主宰。爬起来的时候，他内心充满了自信和平静。他把刀紧紧地握在手中，因为沙漠中的野兽已经开始出没了，到处都充满着愤怒、恐惧、蹂躏的气息。恐惧、黑暗和孤独包围着他，狂风在林间吼叫，洪流从山上滚滚而下。

他就这样无助而沮丧地在树林里穿行，不知道自己走向哪个方向，也不知道随着时间的流逝，他走向安全之地还是毁灭之地。最终，不是恐惧而是疲惫，使他承受不住了。他的呼吸开始变得急促，膝盖也开始颤抖起来，就在他将要倒下、听天由命的时候，他看到一点蜡烛的微光透过荆棘传过来。他向那点微光走去，发现那来自于一个隐士的小屋。他谦卑地叩门，得到进门的允许。那位隐士将他储存的食物放在他面前，奥比达带着感激之情，狼吞虎咽地吃了起来。

等那些食物都吃完了，隐士发话了：“告诉我，你是怎么到这里来的？我在这荒郊野外住了20年，还从来没看见有人从这里经过。”奥比达详细叙述了他在旅途中的遭遇，没有任何隐瞒和掩饰。

“孩子，”那个隐士说，“就让今天的错误和愚蠢、危险和侥幸都深深地埋藏在你的内心深处吧。记住，我的孩子，人的一生就是一天的旅行。我们早上起来的时候精力旺盛，充满希望，就像是在我们年轻的时候；我们带着信念和希望出发，那时我们欢乐而勤奋，所以在通向栖息之所的阳光大道上前行。但是过了一段时间，我们就会不甘平淡，重拾热情，然后努力着想要减轻一点我们的职责，期望能够更轻松地到达我们的目的地。

“然后，我们变得松懈了，我们决心不再为远处的罪恶行径而恐惧，我们觉得能克制自己，在茫茫的世事中始终保持不变。所以我们就开始冒险，靠近我们从来没接触过的东西。这样我们就走进了安逸的树林，开始在树荫下休息。就是在这里，我们的心被麻痹了，渐渐地失去了警惕性，然后就会很自然地问自己：难道非要向前进吗？就不可以停下来欣赏欣赏这乐园里的美景吗？我们犹豫不决地接近那个乐园。走进去了却依然感到胆怯和不安，我们总是希望我们能在不偏离大道的前提下穿越这个乐园，我们时不时也会见到那条大道出现在面前，而我们会安抚自己说：总有一天会回到那条路上去的。

“但是诱惑接踵而至，第一次的屈服就为第二次打下了基础，时间一长，我们就会失去天真的快乐，只会用物质上的享受平息我们的不安。逐渐地，我们忘了我们的天性，放弃了我们唯一可以理智追求的目标。我们事务缠身，花天酒地，在反复无常的迷宫里徘徊，一直到年迈的黑暗开始侵蚀我们，疾病和忧虑让我们举步维艰。然后我们回首一生，感到惊恐、悲痛、悔恨。尽管通常是徒劳的，但我们还是会希望，我们从没放弃那条人间正道。

“我的孩子，真正幸福的人，是那些能够吸取教训，却从不绝望的人；是那些尽管明白光阴已经虚度，青春已经挥霍，却依然坚持并付诸行动的人；是那些相信悔过总不至于绝望，真诚努力总会有所收获的人；是那些坚信浪子回头金不换的人。去吧，去休息吧，我的孩子。当早晨的铃声再次响起的时候，你就可以开始你新的旅程和人生了。”