On Houses
卡里·纪伯伦 / Kahlil Gibran
Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness before you build a house within the city walls， for even as you have home-comings in your twilight， so has the wanderer in you， the ever distant and alone.
Your house is your large body. It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night； and it is not dreamless. Does not your house dream？ And dreaming， leave the city for grove or hilltop？
Would that I could gather your houses into my hand， and like a sower scatter them in forest and meadow.
Would the valleys were your streets， and the green paths your alleys， that you might seek one another through vineyards， and come with the flagrance of the earth in your garments.
But these things are not yet to be.
In their fear your forefathers gathered you too near together. And that fear shall endure a little longer. A little longer shall your city walls separate your hearths from your fields.
And tell me， people of Orphalese， what have you in these houses？ And what is it you guard with fastened doors？
Have you peace， the quiet urge that reveals your power？
Have you remembrances， the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind？
Have you beauty， that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain？
Tell me， have you these in your houses？ Or have you only comfort， and the lust for comfort， that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest， and then becomes a host， and then a master？
Ay， and it becomes a tamer， and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires. Though its hands are silken， its heart is of iron. It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh. It makes mock of your sound senses， and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels. Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul， and than walks grinning in the funeral.
But you， children of space， you restless in rest， you shall not be trapped nor tamed.
Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast； it shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound， but an eyelid that guards the eye. You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors， nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling， nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.
You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living. And though of magnificence and splendoor， your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing.
For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky， whose door is the morning mist and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.
在你们打算在城里建房子之前，先用你们的想象力在旷野里建一座凉亭。因为你们在迟暮之年回归家园时，那在远方孤单漂泊的心也会归来。
房屋是你们更大的躯壳，它在阳光下成长，在夜的寂静中安歇，而它并非没有梦想。难道你们的房子没有梦吗？它们不正梦想着远离都市，前往林中或山间吗？
我愿将你们的房子聚集在手中，像播种般将它们撒向森林和草地。
我愿山谷成为你们的街道，绿径成为你们的小巷，这样你们就可以穿过葡萄园彼此寻访，衣上带着泥土的芳香归来。
然而这尚未实现。
因为恐惧，先辈将你们紧密地聚集在一起，如今这恐惧依旧持续着，城墙依旧阻隔着你们的家庭和土地。
告诉我，奥菲里斯城的人们，你们房子里有什么？你们大门紧闭，是在守护什么？
你们拥有安宁吗？——那足以在沉静的驱动下显出强大力量的平安？
你们拥有回忆吗？——那跨越意志巅峰的依稀闪烁的拱门？
你们拥有美吗？——那将心灵从木石所在之地引向圣山的向导？
告诉我，你们的房子是否拥有这些？或者，其中只有安逸和追求安逸的热望——这鬼祟之物进来做客，却反客为主，成为统帅？
唉，它又化作驯兽师，用铁钩和皮鞭使你们更强烈的欲望变作傀儡。尽管它的手细腻如丝，它的心却坚硬如铁；它哄你们入睡，只为站在你们床边讥嘲肉体的尊严；它嘲笑你们健全的感官，置它们于易碎的容器之下。事实上，对安逸的欲望扼杀了灵魂的激情，而它还在葬礼上咧嘴大笑。
但你们，苍穹之子，只有在安逸中时刻警醒，才不会被诱惑或驯化。
你们的房子不是锚，而是桅。它不是掩饰伤口的亮光薄膜，而应是保护眼睛的眼睑。你们不应只为穿过房门而敛起羽翼，不应因怕撞到天花板而低下头颅，也不应因担心墙壁破裂坍塌而屏住呼吸。
不应住在死者为生者筑造的坟墓中。尽管你们的宅邸富丽堂皇，但无法隐藏你们的秘密，无法遮蔽你们的渴望。
因为那以晨雾为门、以黑夜的歌声和静谧为窗的——你们无限的潜能，仍逗留在苍穹中。
1. Your _________is your large body. It grows in the_________and sleeps in the stillness of the night； and it is not dreamless. Does not your house _________？ And dreaming，_________ the city for grove or hilltop？
2. Tell me， have you_________in your houses？ Or have you _________comfort， and the lust for comfort， that stealthy thing that _________ the house a guest， and then becomes a_________， and then a master？
3. You shall not _________ your wings that you may pass through _________， nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling， nor _________to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.
1. 我愿将你们的房子聚集在手中，像播种般将它们撒向森林和草地。
2. 你们拥有美吗？——那将心灵从木石所在之地引向圣山的向导？
3. 事实上，对安逸的欲望扼杀了灵魂的激情，而它还在葬礼上咧嘴大笑。
1. It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh.
stand by：站在旁边；袖手旁观；待命
2. It makes mock of your sound senses， and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels.
make mock of：嘲笑某人；愚弄