On Beauty

And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."

Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?

And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?

The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.

Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."

And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.

Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."

The tired and the weary say, "beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.

Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."

But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,

And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."

At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."

And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."

In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."

And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."

All these things have you said of beauty.

Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,

And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.

It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,

But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.

It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,

But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.

It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,

But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.

People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.

But you are life and you are the veil.

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

But you are eternity and your are the mirror.

美

　　一位诗人说，请给我们谈谈美。

　　他答道：

　　如果美不以自身为途径，为向导，你们到哪里，又如何能找她到呢？

　　如果她不是你们言语的编织者，你们又如何能谈论她呢？

　　伤心痛苦者说："美是善良而温柔的。

　　"她像一位因自己的荣耀而半含羞涩的年轻母亲，走在我们的身边。"

　　热情奔放者说："不，美是强烈而令人惊畏的。

　　"她如暴风雨般震动我们脚下的大地，摇撼我们头上的天空。"

　　疲惫怠倦者说："美是温柔的低语，她在我们的心中诉说。

　　"她的声音波动在我们的沉默中，犹似一道微弱的光在对阴影的恐惧中颤抖。"

　　但活泼好动者说："我们曾听到她在山谷中大声呼叫，

　　"随其呐喊而来的是足蹄踏地、翅膀拍击和雄狮怒吼的声音。"

　　夜晚，城市的守夜人说："美将与晨光一同从东方升起。"

　　正午，辛勤劳作者和长途跋涉者说："我们曾看到她透过黄昏之窗眺望大地。"'

　　严冬，困在风雪中的人说："她将与春同至，雀跃于山峦之间。"

　　酷暑，收割庄稼的人说："我们曾看到她与秋叶共舞，雪花点缀于她的发梢。"

　　你们谈到关于美的所有这些，

　　实际并非关于她本身，而是关于你们未被满足的需求，

　　但美并不是一种需求，而是心醉神迷的欣喜。

　　她不是焦渴的唇，也不是伸出的空空的手，

　　而是一颗燃烧的心，一个充满喜悦的灵魂。

　　她不是你们想看到的形象，也不是你们想听到的歌声，

　　而是你们闭上眼睛看到的形象，堵住耳朵听到的歌声。

　　她不是伤残树皮下的树液，也不是悬在利爪下的翅膀。

　　而是一座鲜花永远盛开的花园，一群永远在天空飞翔的天使。

　　奥法利斯城的人们啊，当生命摘去遮盖她圣洁面容的面纱时，美就是生命。

　　但你们是生命，也是面纱。

　　美是凝视自己镜中身影的永恒。

　　但你们就是永恒，你们也是明镜。

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