45

TO the guests that must go bid God's speed and brush away all traces of their steps.

Take to your bosom with a smile what is easy and simple and near.

To-day is the festival of phantoms that know not when they die.

Let your laughter be but a meaningless mirth like twinkles of light on the ripples.

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf.

Strike in chords from your harp fitful momentary rhythms.

45

对那些定要离开的客人们，求神帮他们快走，

并且扫掉他们所有的足迹。

把舒服的、单纯的、亲近的微笑着一起抱在你的怀里。

今天是幻影的节日，他们不知道自己的死期。

让你的笑声只作为无意义的欢乐，像浪花上的闪光。

让你的生命像露珠在叶尖一样，在时间的边缘上轻轻跳舞。

在你的琴弦上弹出无定的暂时的音调吧。