Chapter 3 为自己的心找一个家（9）
《世界上最美的情诗》作者：吴文智 2017-04-14 12:58
Chapter 3 为自己的心找一个家（9）
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses
Your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and
Shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire,
That you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you
That you may know the secrets of your heart,
And in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek
Only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover
Your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh,
But not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say,
“God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love,
If it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and
Give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a
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Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses
Your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and
Shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire,
That you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you
That you may know the secrets of your heart,
And in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek
Only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover
Your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh,
But not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say,
“God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love,
If it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and
Give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a