THE ONLY REVOLUTION EUROPE PART 7/《唯一的革命》 欧洲 第七篇
THE ONLY REVOLUTION EUROPE PART 7《唯一的革命》 欧洲 第七篇
Meditation is always new. It has not the touch of the past for it has no continuity. The word new doesn't convey the quality of a freshness that has not been before. It is like the light of a candle which has been put out and relit. The new light is not the old, though the candle is the same. Meditation has a continuity only when thought colours it, shapes it and gives it a purpose. The purpose and meaning of meditation given by thought becomes a time-binding bondage. But the meditation that is not touched by thought has its own movement, which is not of time. Time implies the old and the new as a movement from the roots of yesterday to the flowing of tomorrow. But meditation is a different flowering altogether. It is not the outcome of the experience of yesterday, and therefore it has no roots at all in time. It has a continuity which is not that of time. The word continuity in meditation is misleading, for that which was, yesterday, is not taking place today. The meditation of today is a new awakening, a new flowering of the beauty of goodness.
冥想总是崭新的。它没有过去的丝毫痕迹，因为它没有延续性。新鲜这个词无法传达一种以前从未出现过的崭新品质。它就像熄灭了又重新点燃的一盏烛光。新的烛光不是旧的那盏，尽管蜡烛是同一支。只有当思想赋予冥想色彩、形状和意义时，冥想才会有延续性。思想赋予冥想的目的和含义就变成了一种受限于时间的制约。但是未被思想沾染的冥想有它自身的运动，而这运动不是时间性的。时间意味着从旧到新是一种从昨天的根源流向明天的运动。而冥想是截然不同的一种绽放。它不是昨天经验的结果，因而完全没有时间的根源。它具有的延续性与时间无关。冥想中的延续性这个词具有误导性，因为昨天发生的事情今天不会发生。今天的冥想是一次崭新的觉醒，是良善之美的全新绽放。
The car went slowly through all the traffic of the big town with its buses, lorries and cars, and all the noise along the narrow streets. There were endless flats, filled with families, and endless shops, and the town was spreading on all sides, devouring the countryside. At last we came out into the country, the green fields and the wheat and the great patches of flowering mustard, intense in their yellowness. The contrast between the intense green and the yellow was as striking as the contrast between the noise of the town and he quietness of the countryside. We were on the auto route to the north which went up and down the land. And there were woods, streams, and the lovely blue sky.
汽车缓缓穿过大城市里公共汽车、卡车和轿车汇成的车流，以及嘈杂无比的狭窄街道。街道两边是住满了家庭的数不清的公寓房子和没完没了的商店，城镇正在扩张，吞噬着乡村。终于我们走了出来，来到了乡下的绿色田野，有着小麦以及大片大片正开着花的芥菜地，那黄色鲜艳浓烈。浓郁的绿色与黄色之间的强烈对比就像城镇的嘈杂与乡村的静谧之间的对比一样显著。我们沿着忽上忽下的机动车道向北驶去。一路上有树林、溪流和美丽的蓝天。
It was a spring morning, and there were great patches of bluebells in the wood, and beside the wood was the yellow mustard, stretching almost to the horizon; and then the green wheat field that stretched as far as the eye could see. The road passed villages and towns, and a side road led to a lovely wood with new fresh spring leaves and the smell of damp earth; and there was that peculiar feeling of spring, and the newness of life. You were very close to nature then as you watched your part of the earth - the trees, the new delicate leaf, and the stream that went by. It was not a romantic feeling or an imaginative sensation, but actually you were all this - the blue sky and the expanding earth.
这是个春天的早晨，树林里有大片大片的风铃草，树林边是几乎延伸到了地平线的黄色芥菜；接着是眼睛望不到边的绿色麦田。这条马路穿过村庄和城镇，另一条支路则通向有着新鲜的春叶和湿润的泥土气息的美丽树林；有种特别的春天的感觉和生命的新鲜感。当你看着这片土地——树木、新生的嫩叶和流过的小溪，那时你与自然非常亲近。这不是一种浪漫的感觉或者一种充满想象力的感受，而是你实际上就是这一切——蓝天和宽广的大地。
The road led to an old house with an avenue of tall beeches with their young, fresh leaves, and you looked up through them at the blue sky. It was a lovely morning, and the copper-beech was still quite young, though very tall. He was a big man with very large hands, and he filled that enormous chair. He had a kindly face and he was ready to laugh. It is strange how little we laugh. Our hearts are too oppressed, made dull, by the weary business of living, by the routine and the monotony of everyday life. We are made to laugh by a joke or a witty saying, but there is no laughter in ourselves; the bitterness which is man's ripening fruit seems so common. We never see the running water and laugh with it; it is sad to see the light in our eyes grow duller and duller each day; the pressures of agony and despair seem to colour our whole life with their promise of hope and pleasure, which thought cultivates.
马路通向一座老房子，有着新鲜嫩叶的高大山毛榉排成了一条大道，你透过它们仰望蓝天。这是个可爱的清晨，紫叶山毛榉树还很年轻，尽管已经很高了。他块头很大，双手也很大，一个人占满了那把大椅子。他有张温和的脸，也很爱笑。奇怪的是我们笑得多么少。我们的心太过压抑，被枯燥的生活琐事、被例行公事和单调的日常生活变得迟钝。我们会被笑话或机智的言语逗笑，但是我们内心没有欢笑；作为人类成熟的果实的痛苦看起来是如此普遍。我们从不去看流淌的河水并为之欢笑；看到我们眼中的光亮每天变得越来越黯淡，真令人痛心；痛苦和绝望的压力似乎用它们对希望和快乐的承诺浸染了我们的整个生命，而这些都是思想的产物。
He was interested in that peculiar philosophy of the origin and acceptance of silence - which probably he had never come upon. You can't buy silence as you would buy good cheese. You can't cultivate it as you would a lovely plant. It doesn't come about by any activity of the mind or of the heart. The silence that music produces as you listen to it is the product of that music, induced by it. Silence isn't an experience; you know it only when it is over.
他对关于寂静的起源和纳受的那套特定的哲学很感兴趣——而他或许从未遭遇过寂静。你无法像买到好奶酪一样买到寂静。你无法像培育一株可爱的植物那样培育它。它无法通过头脑或心灵的任何行为产生。当你听音乐时，音乐产生的寂静是那音乐引发的产物。寂静不是一次经验；只有当它结束的时候，你才知道那是寂静。
Sit, sometime, on the bank of a river and look into the water. Don't be hypnotized by the movement of the water, by the light, the clarity and the depth of the stream. Look at it without any movement of thought. The silence is all round you, in you, in the river, and in those trees that are utterly still. You can't take it back home, hold it in your mind or your hand and think you have achieved some extraordinary state. If you have, then it is not silence; then it is merely a memory, an imagining, a romantic escape from the daily noise of life.
有时候可以坐在河岸边看看流水。不要被流水的运动、被光线、被溪流的清澈和深度催眠。不带任何思想活动地看着它。寂静就在你周围、在你内心、在河水中，在一动不动的那些树木中。你无法把它带回家、把它留在脑海中或者握在手中，以为自己达到了某种非凡的状态。如果你达到了，那么它就不是寂静；那么它就只是一个记忆、一次想象中的对日常喧嚣生活的浪漫逃避。
Because of silence everything exists. The music you heard this morning came to you out of silence, and you heard it because you were silent, and it went beyond you in silence.
一切因为寂静而存在。你今天早上听到的音乐来自寂静，因为你安静所以听到了它，而它又在寂静中飘向了远方。
Only we don't listen to the silence because our ears are full of the chatter of the mind. When you love, and there is no silence, thought makes of it a plaything of society whose culture is envy and whose gods are put together by the mind and the hand. Silence is where you are, in yourself and beside yourself.
我们不去倾听寂静，只因为我们的耳朵充满了头脑的喋喋不休。当你去爱却没有寂静时，思想就把爱变成了社会的一件玩物，而社会的文化是嫉妒，社会的神祗由头脑和双手制造。寂静就在你所在之处、在你内心、在你身边。
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