You are hidden as a star behind the hills; and I am a passer…by upon the road。
But why did you stop for a moment and glance at my face through your veil while you walked by the riverside path with the full pitcher upon your hip?
The Gardener 20
Day after day he es and goes away。
Go, and give him a flower from my hair; my friend。
If he asks who was it that sent it; I entreat you do not tell him my name—for he only es and goes away。
He sits on the dust under the tree。
Spread there a seat with flowers and leaves; my friend。
His eyes are sad; and they bring sadness to my heart。
He does not speak what he has in mind; he only es and goes away。
The Gardener 21
Why did he choose to e to my door; the wandering youth; when the day dawned?
As I e in and out I pass by him every time; and my eyes are caught by his face。
I know not if I should speak to him or keep silent。 Why did he choose to e to my door?
The cloudy nights in July are dark; the sky is soft blue in the autumn; the spring days are restless with the south wind。
He weaves his songs with fresh tunes every time。
I turn from my work and my eyes fill with the mist。 Why did he choose to e to my door?
The Gardener 22
When she passed by me with quick steps; the end of her skirt touched me。
From the unknown island of a heart came a sudden warm breath of spring。
A flutter of a flitting touch brushed me and vanished in a moment; like a torn flower petal blown in the breeze。
It fell upon my heart like a sigh of her body and whisper of her heart。
The Gardener 23
Why do you sit there and jingle your bracelets in mere idle sport?
Fill your pitcher。 It is time for you to e home。 电子书 分享网站
园丁集 第十章(2)
Why do you stir the water with your hands and fitfully glance at the road for some one in mere idle sport?
Fill your pitcher and e home。
The morning hours pass by—the dark waters flows on。
The waves are laughing and whispering to each other in mere idle sport。
The wandering clouds have gathered at the edge of the sky on yonder rise of the land。
They linger and look at your face and smile in mere idle sport。
Fill your pitcher and e home。
The Gardener 24
Do not keep to yourself the secret of your heart; my friend!
Say it to me; only to me; in secret。
You who smile so gently; softly whisper; my heart will hear it; not my ears。
The night is deep; the house is silent; the birds’ nests are surrounded with sleep。
Speak to me through hesitating tears; through faltering smiles; through sweet shame and pain; the secret of your heart!