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弹响你的琴弦，
我将踏上此途，
它永远通向另一个黎明。
第三位神
爱胜利了！
爱的纯白与嫩绿躺在湖边，
爱的骄傲与庄严在高塔或阳台；
爱在花园里或在荒无人迹的沙漠中，
爱是我们的君王与主人它不是肉体恣肆的衰竭，
亦非欲望的崩溃
——当欲望与自我搏斗时；
它也不是拿起武器与灵魂抗争的肉体。
爱从不反叛。
它为神圣的森林留下被古老命运踩踏的路，
面对永恒唱出、舞出它的秘密。
爱是挣脱枷锁的青年，
男人从泥沼中获得自由，
女人被火焰温暖，
被那比我们天堂更高远的天空的光焰。
爱是心灵深处的一串笑。
它是一个狂野的冲击，
使你平静从而清醒。
它是大地上又一个新的黎明，
一个尚未到达你我眼帘，
却已到达它那更为伟大心中的白昼。
兄弟们！我的兄弟们！
新娘来自黎明的心中，
新郎从黄昏而来。 山谷中正在举行婚礼， 一个无比广阔的日子，丰富得难以记述。
第二位神
它就这样，
从第一个清晨
把平原推向高山与低谷，
它就这样，
一直到最后一个日暮。
我们的根已在山谷中生长出飞舞的枝条，
我们是升上至高处的芳歌的花朵。
永恒的与垂死的，是一对向大海呼唤的孪生河流。
在呼唤与呼唤间没有虚空，
虚空仅只存在于耳中。
时间使我们的听觉更加可靠，
并赋予它更多的欲望。
只有垂死中的怀疑才能平息这声响，
我们已超越怀疑。
人类是我们较年轻的心的孩子。
人类是正在缓慢出现的神；
在他的喜悦与痛苦之间，
躺卧着我们的睡眠，及其梦幻。
第一位神
让歌者放声歌唱，
让舞者旋转她的双足，
让我得到片刻的满足，
让我的灵魂在今夜静息。
偶尔我也可能轻眠、沉睡，凝望一个更光明的世界和赋予我思想更多星光的生物。
第三位神
现在我将起身，
让自己摆脱时空，
我将在未被践踏的土地上舞蹈，
那舞者的双足将随我的双足一起跳动；
我将在更高阔的天空中歌唱，
人的声音将在我的声音中震颤。
我们将穿过薄暮或许在另一个世界的黎明醒来。
但爱会长存，它的指纹将不会被抹去。
福佑的熔炉在燃烧，
火花飞溅，
每一颗火花便是一个太阳对于我们，
最正确、最明智之举是：
寻得一个浓荫遮蔽的角落，
并在我们大地的神性中睡去，
让爱，人类的和脆弱的，
去支配即将到来的日子。
c o m
The Earth Gods
小＿说txt天＿堂
the earth gods
when the night of the twelfth aeon fell；
and silence； the high tide of night； swallowed the hills；
the three earth…born gods； the master titans of life；
appeared upon the mountains。
rivers ran about their feet；
the mist floated across their breasts；
and their heads rose in majesty above the world。
then they spoke； and like distant thunder
their voices rolled over the plains。
first god
the wind blows eastward；
i would turn my face to the south；
for the wind crowds my nostrils with the odors of dead things。
second god
it is the scent of burnt flesh； sweet and bountiful。
i would breathe it。
first god
it is the odor of mortality parching upon its own faint flame。
heavily does it hang upon the air；
and like foul breath of the pit
it offends my senses。
i would turn my face to the scentless north。
second god
it is the inflamed fragrance of brooding life
this i would breathe now and forever。
gods live upon sacrifice；
their thirst quenched by blood；
their hearts appeased with young souls；
their sinews strengthened by the deathless sighs
of those who dwell with death；
their thrones are built upon the ashes of generations。
first god
weary is my spirit of all there is。
i would not move a hand to create a world
nor to erase one。
i would not live could i but die；
for the weight of aeons is upon me；
and the ceaseless moan of the seas exhausts my sleep。
could i but lose the primal aim
and vanish like a wasted sun；
could i but strip my divinity of its purpose
and breathe my immortality into space；
and be no more；
could i but be consumed and pass from times memory
into the emptiness of nowhere！
third god
listen my brothers； my ancient brothers。
a youth in yonder vale
is singing his heart to the night。
his lyre is gold and ebony。
his voice is silver and gold。
second god
i would not be so vain as to be no more。
i could not but choose the hardest way；
to follow the seasons and support the majesty of the years；
to sow the seed and to watch it thrust through the soil；
to call the flower from its hiding place
and give it strength to nestle its own life；
and then to pluck it when the storm laughs in the forest；
to raise man from secret darkness；
yet keep his roots clinging to the earth；
to give him thirst for life； and make death his cupbearer；
to endow him with love that waxeth with pain；
and exalts with desire； and increases with longing；
and fadeth away with the first embrace；
to girdle his nights with dreams of higher days；
and infuse his days with visions of blissful nights；
and yet to confine his days and his nights
to their immutable resemblance；
to make his fancy like the eagle of the mountain；
and his thought as the tempests of the seas；
and yet to give him hands slow in decision；
and feet heavy with deliberation；
to give him gladness that he may sing before us；
and sorrow that he may call unto us；
and then to lay him low；
when the earth in her hunger cries for food；
to raise his soul high above the firmament
that he may foretaste our tomorrow；
and to keep his body groveling in the mire
that he may not forget his yesterday。
thus shall we rule man unto the end of time；
governing the breath that began with his mothers crying；
and ends with the lamentation of his children。
first god
my heart thirsts； yet i would not drink the faint blood of a feeble race；
for the cup is tainted； and the vintage therein is bitter to my mouth。
like thee i have kneaded the clay and fashioned it to breathing forms
that crept out of my dripping fingers unto the marshes and the hills。
like thee i have kindled the dark depths of beginning life
and watched it crawl from caves to rocky heights。
like thee i have summoned spring and laid the beauty thereof
for a lure that seizes youth and binds it to generate and multiply。
like thee i have led man from shr