16

HANDS cling to hands and eyes linger on eyes: thus begins the record of our hearts.

It is the moonlit night of March; the sweet smell of henna is in the air; my flute lies on the earth neglected and your garland of flowers is unfinished.

This love between you and me is simple as a song.

Your veil of the saffron colour makes my eyes drunk.

The jasmine wreath that you wove me thrills to my heart like praise.

It is a game of giving and withholding, revealing and screening again; some smiles and some little shyness, and some sweet useless struggles.

This love between you and me is simple as a song.

No mystery beyond the present; no striving for the impossible; no shadow behind the charm; no groping in the depth of the dark.

This love between you and me is simple as a song.

We do not stray out of all words into the ever silent; we do not raise our hands to the void for things beyond hope.

It is enough what we give and we get.

We have not crushed the joy to the utmost to wring from it the wine of pain.

This love between you and me is simple as a song.

16

手握着手，眼恋着眼；

这样开始了我们的心的记录。

这是三月的月明之夜，空气时有凤仙花的芬芳；

我的横笛抛在地上，

你的花串也没有编成。

你我之间的爱像歌曲一样的单纯。

你橙黄色的面纱使我眼睛陶醉。

你给我编的茉莉花环使我心震颤，像是受了赞扬。

这是一个又予又留、又隐又现的游戏；

有些微笑，有些娇羞，

也有些甜柔的无用的抵拦。

你我之间的爱像歌曲一样的单纯。

没有现在以外的神秘；

不强求那做不到的事情；

没有魅惑后面的阴影；

没有黑暗深处的探索。

你我之间的爱像歌曲一样的单纯。

我们没有走出一切语言之外进入永远的沉默；

我们没有向空举手寻求希望以外的东西。

我们付与，我们取得，这就够了。

我们没有把喜乐压成微尘来榨取痛苦之酒。

你我之间的爱像歌曲一样的单纯。