On love
Then said Almitra, speak to us of love.
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow me, though his way are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crown you, so shall he crucify you. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, so that 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 rifts 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 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 in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, then it is better for you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor into the sea sonless world where you should all 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 possessed not nor would it 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 the god.” And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds your worth, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself. But to fulfill itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, lets these be your desires:
To melt and 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 prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
说 爱
于是爱尔美差说，请给我们谈爱。
他举头望着众人，他们一时沉默了。他用洪亮的声音说：
当爱召唤你时，追随他，哪怕他的道路艰难险峻。当爱展开双臂拥抱你，屈服于他，哪怕他翅膀中的剑会伤害你。当爱向你倾诉，信从他，就算他的声音会让你美梦破碎，如同北风吹荒了园林。因为爱让你戴上荆冠的同时，也会将你钉上十字架。爱使你成长，也会为你修剪。爱攀上你的枝头，抚弄你阳光下最柔嫩的枝条时，也会潜入你的脚下，将你深扎于泥土中的根须颤动。
如同一捆稻草，他将你束紧，他锤打你，使你赤裸，他筛分你，让你脱去皮壳；他碾磨你，直到你色泽洁白；他揉磨你，使你柔韧；然后他将你送上他的圣火，使你成为上帝圣餐中的圣饼。
这些都是爱为你做的事情，使你知道你内心的秘密，也让它们变成你生命中心的华章。
但是，如果出于恐怖，你只想寻求爱的平和与快乐，那你只好掩饰你的赤裸，穿越爱的打鼓场，进入一个没有季节的世界；在那里，你将欢笑，却无法笑出你所有的快乐，你将哭泣，却无法倾诉你所有的悲伤。
爱只有自身可以给予，爱也只有自身可以索取。爱不占有，亦不隶属；因为爱对于爱，已经足够。
当你在爱的时候，不要说：“上帝在我心中。”你要说：“我在上帝心中。”不要想去引导爱，因为如果他发现你值得，回引导你，爱没有别的愿望，只有成全自己。但你在爱时，你定要有所期盼，就让这成为你的愿望吧：
融化如涓涓细流，对夜唱着自己的旋律。
去体味太过敏感温柔给心灵带来的痛苦。
因为你对爱的领悟而受伤；并甘心情愿而快乐地流血。
在清晨醒来，心神飞扬，感激又迎来了爱的一天。
在午间休憩，深思爱的痴迷。
在黄昏回家，心存感激。
然后，带着心中为爱人的祝福和唇间的颂歌入眠。
（节选自卡里?纪伯论的《生而为赢》）
