IT WAS A narrow street, fairly crowded, but without too much traffic. When a bus or a car passed, one had to go to the very edge, almost into the gutter. There were a few very small shops, and a small temple without doors. This temple was exceptionally clean, and the local people were there, though not in large numbers. At the side of one of the shops a boy was sitting on the ground making garlands and small bouquets of flowers; he must have been twelve or fourteen. The thread was in a small jar of water, and in front of him, spread in little heaps on a damp cloth, were jasmine, a few roses, marigold and other flowers. With the string in one hand he would pick up with the other an assortment of flowers, and with a quick, deft twist of the string they would be tied and a bouquet would be made. He was paying hardly any attention to what his hands were doing; his eyes would wander over to the passing people, smile in recognition of someone, come back to his hands, and wander off again. presently he was joined by another boy, and they began talking and laughing, but his hands never left off their task. By now there was quite a pile of tied flowers, but it was a little too early to sell them. The boy stopped, got up and went off, but soon returned with another boy smaller than himself, perhaps his brother. Then he resumed his pleasant work with the same ease and rapidity. Now people were coming to buy, one by one or in groups. They must have been his regular customers, for there were smiles, and a few words were exchanged. From then on he never moved from his place for over an hour. There was the fragrance of many flowers, and we smiled at each other.
这是一条狭窄的街道，很是拥挤，却没有太严重的阻塞。 当公共汽车或汽车经过时，人必须走到最边上，几乎踏入了排水沟。 有几家很小的商店，还有一座没有门的小庙。 这座寺庙非常干净， 本地人在那儿，虽然人数不多。 在某个商店的旁边， 一个男孩坐在地上做花环和小花束； 他一定是十二岁或十四岁。 丝线放在他面前的小水罐里， 湿布上成堆地铺着一些茉莉花、玫瑰、万寿菊和其它种类的花。 他一只手拿绳子，另一只手拿起各种各样的花， 然后快速、灵巧地扭动绳子，它们就会被绑起来，一个花环就做成了。 他几乎不注意他的手在做什么。 他的眼睛游走于路过的行人， 当认出某人时，报以微笑，并把视线再转向他的手上，然后再次游走。 现在，他和另一个男孩一起，他们开始说话和大笑， 但他的手从未离开过他们的任务。 到现在为止，已经有一堆穿好的花， 但现在卖掉它们还为时过早。 男孩停了下来，起身走了， 但很快就带着另一个比自己小的小男孩回来了，也许是他的弟弟。 然后，他以同样轻松和迅速的方式恢复了他愉快的工作。 现在人们来买，一个接一个地或成群结队。 他们一定是他的常客，因为有笑容，还交谈了几句话。 从那时算起的一个多小时里，他再也没有离开过。 有许多花的芬芳，我们互相微笑。
The road led to a path, and the path to the house.
这条路通向一条小路，小路通向那所房子。
How we are bound to the past! But we are not bound to the past: we are the past. And what a complicated thing the past is, layer upon layer of undigested memories, both cherished and sorrowful. It pursues us day and night, and occasionally there is a breakthrough, revealing a clear light. The past is like a shadow, making things dull and weary; in that shadow, the present loses its clarity, its freshness, and tomorrow is the continuation of the shadow. The past, the present and the future are tied together by the long string of memory; the whole bundle is memory, with little fragrance. Thought moves through the present to the future and back again; like a restless animal tied to a post, it moves within its own radius, narrow or wide, but it is never free of its own shadow. This movement is the occupation of the mind with the past, the present and the future. The mind is the occupation. If the mind is not occupied, it ceases to exist; its very occupation is its existence. The occupation with insult and flattery, with God and drink, with virtue and passion, with work and expression, with storing up and giving, is all the same; it is still occupation, worry, restlessness. To be occupied with something, whether with furniture or God, is a state of pettiness, shallowness.
我们与过去如此地纠缠！ 但我们不是被过去纠缠：我们就是过去。 过去是一个多么复杂的东西， 一层又一层的、没有消化的记忆，既珍贵又悲伤。 它日夜不停地追逐我们， 偶尔有一道裂隙，露出一道清澈的光芒。 过去就像一个影子，让事物变得沉闷和疲惫； 在那片阴影中，现实失去了它的明晰，它的清新， 而明天，就是阴影的蔓延。 过去、现在和未来，被一长串的记忆栓在一起； 整束捆绑就是记忆，带有一丝芬芳。 思想从现在移动到未来，再回来； 像一只被绑在柱子上的躁动不安的动物， 在它自己的半径内移动，不论宽窄，却总是不能摆脱它自己的影子。 这个移动，是头脑率领着过去、现在和未来，在攻占。 这个头脑就是占据物。 如果头脑不被占据，它就不复存在； 它即是它的占据物 —— 它占据着 侮辱与奉承、上帝与美酒、美德与激情、 工作与展现、储蓄与给予，这一切都属于头脑； 它还在占据、担忧、躁动不安。 被某个东西所占据，无论它是家具还是上帝， 都处于一种琐碎的、肤浅的状态。
Occupation gives to the mind a feeling of activity, of being alive. That is why the mind stores up, or renounces; it sustains itself with occupation. The mind must be busy with something. What it is busy with is of little importance; the important thing is that it be occupied, and the better occupations have social significance. To be occupied with something is the nature of the mind, and its activity springs from this. To be occupied with God, with the State, with knowledge, is the activity of a petty mind. Occupation with something implies limitation, and the God of the mind is a petty god, however high it may place him. Without occupation, the mind is not; and the fear of not being makes the mind restless and active. This restless activity has the appearance of life, but it is not life; it leads always to death – a death which is the same activity in another form.
占据给头脑一种活动、活着的感觉。 那就是为什么头脑在储蓄或丢弃；它通过占据以养活它自己。 头脑必定忙于某个事物。 它忙于什么事物并不重要； 重要的是它被占据， 占据更好的事物，具有社会意义。 被某个事物所占据，就是头脑的本质，它的活动由此喷发。 被上帝、政府、知识占据，是一个渺小的头脑的一场活动。 占据某个事物，意味着限制， 因而头脑中的上帝，是一位可怜的上帝，无论它被他放在多高的地方。 没有占据的事物，头脑就不存在； 这种‘不存在’的恐惧，使头脑躁动不安和活跃。 这种躁动不安的活动有生命的表象，它却不是生命； 它总是导致死亡 —— 而死亡是同一个活动的另一种表现形式。
The dream is another occupation of the mind, a symbol of its restlessness. Dreaming is the continuation of the conscious state, the extension of what is not active during the waking hours. The activity of both the upper and the deeper mind is occupational. Such a mind can be aware of an end only as a continued beginning; it can never be aware of ending, but only of a result, and result is ever continuous. The search for a result is the search for continuity. The mind, the occupation, has no ending; and only to that which ends can there be the new, only to that which dies can there be life. The death of occupation, of the mind, is the beginning of silence, of total silence. There is no relationship between this imponderable silence and the activity of the mind. To have relationship, there must be contact, communion; but there is no contact between silence and the mind. The mind cannot commune with silence; it can have contact only with its own self-projected state which it calls silence. But this silence is not silence, it is merely another form of occupation. Occupation is not silence. There is silence only with the death of the mind’s occupation with silence.
梦是头脑的另一种占据，是它焦躁不安的象征。 梦想，是意识形态的延续， 做梦，是人在清醒的时候，处于不活跃的那一部分的意识的扩展。 上表层的和更深层的头脑的活动，都具有攻伐性。 这样的头脑只能意识到一个结果 —— 一个不断进取的开端； 它永远不能意识到结束，却只能意识到一个结果，而结果总是具有连续性。 对结果的搜寻就是对连续性的搜寻。 这个头脑，这个占领者，看不到终点； 只有在那尽头处，才有新的，只有死亡，才有生命。 占领者的死亡，头脑的死亡，是安静，是完全地安静的开端。 这种不可思议的安静与头脑的活动无关。 要产生关系，必须有接触、交融； 但安静与头脑之间没有接触。 头脑不能与安静交融； 它只能与它称之为‘安静’的自我投射出的状态接触。 但这种‘安静’不是安静，它只是另一种形式的占据物。 占据物是不安静的。 只有当头脑的占据物 —— ‘安静’死去，才有安静。
Silence is beyond the dream, beyond the occupation of the deeper mind. The deeper mind is a residue, the residue of the past, open or hidden. This residual past cannot experience silence; it can dream about it, as it often does, but the dream is not the real. The dream is often taken for the real, but the dream and the dreamer are the occupation of the mind. The mind is a total process, and not an exclusive part. The total process of activity, residual and acquiring, cannot commune with that silence which is inexhaustible.
安静超越了梦想，超越了更深层的头脑的占据物。 更深的头脑是一个残余，是过去的残余，不论是敞亮的还是隐匿的。 这个过去的残渣，不能体验安静； 它可以梦想它，它经常这么做，但梦想是不真实的。 梦想，经常被视为真实， 但梦和做梦者，都是头脑的战利品。 头脑是一个完整的进程，而不是一个排它性的部分。 它的整个活动进程， 无论是残留的，还是正在猎取的，都无法与那取之不尽、用之不竭的安静交融。