THE RAIN-WASHED hills were sparkling in the morning sun and the sky behind them was very blue. The valley, full of trees and streams, was high up among the hills; not too many people lived there, and it had a purity of solitude. There were a number of white buildings with thatched roofs, and many goats and cattle; but it was out of the way, and you wouldn’t ordinarily come upon it unless you knew or had been told of its existence. At its entrance a dustless road went by, and as a rule no one came into this valley without some definite purpose. It was unspoiled, secluded and far away, but that morning it seemed especially pure in its solitude, and the rain had washed away the dust of many days. The rocks on the hills themselves seemed to be watching, waiting. These hills extended from east to west, and the sun rose and set among them. There was one which rose against the blue sky like a temple sculptured out of a living rock, square and splendid. A path wound its way from one end of the valley to the other, and at a certain point along this path the sculptured hill could be seen. Set further back than the other hills, it was darker, heavier, endued with great strength. By the side of the path was stream gently whispered, moving eastward towards the sun, and the wide wells were full of water which held hope for the summer and beyond. Innumerable frogs were making a loud noise all along the quiet stream, and a large snake crossed the path. It was in no hurry and moved lazily, leaving a trail in the soft damp earth. Becoming aware of the human presence, it stopped, its black, forked tongue darting in and out of its pointed mouth. Presently it resumed its journey in search of food, and disappeared among the bushes and the tall, waving grass. It was a lovely morning, and pleasant under a big mango tree which stood by an open well. The fragrance of fresh washed leaves was in the air, and the smell of the mango. The sun didn’t come through the heavy leaves, and you could set there for a long time on a slab of rock which was still damp.
被雨水冲洗过的群山，在清晨的阳光下闪烁， 它们身后的天空深蓝。 这山谷满是树木和溪流，耸立于群山之间。 住在那里的人不多，而且有一种幽远的纯洁。 有许多白色的建筑物，它们的顶部由茅草铺成，还有许多山羊和牛； 但没有路可以进入， 除非你知道或被告知它的存在，否则你通常不会遇到它。 在它的入口处，有一条没有灰尘的路， 通常，没有人会在没有明确意图的情况下进入这个山谷。 它是未受破坏的、僻静而遥远， 但那天早上，在它的幽静里，似乎特别地纯净， 雨水已经冲走了数日的尘土。 山上的岩石似乎在观察、等待。 这些山脉从东向西绵延，太阳在它们中间升起和落下。 有一次太阳在蓝天的衬托下升起， 就像一座用鲜活的岩石雕刻出的庙宇，庄严而壮丽。 一条小路从山谷的一端蜿蜒到另一端， 在这条路的某个点，可以看到一座被雕刻的山。 它比其它的山更靠后、更黑黝、更沉重，充满巨大的力量。 路边的溪水轻柔地悄然流淌，朝着太阳，向东而去， 开阔的源泉，充盈着水，为夏天和之后的日子带来了希望。 无数的青蛙沿着安静的溪流发出一片巨响， 一条大蛇穿过小路。 它不着急，懒洋洋地移动，在柔软潮湿的泥土中留下一条痕迹。 当意识到人类的存在，它停了下来， 黑色的、分叉的舌头在尖尖的嘴里进进出出。 现在，它恢复了寻找食物的旅途， 消失在灌木丛与高高的波浪般起伏的草丛里。 它是一个可爱的早晨，站在泉边的一棵大芒果树下，让人愉快。 刚洗过的新叶散发出芬芳，空气中有芒果的香味。 太阳没有穿透厚重的树叶， 你可以在一块依然潮湿的岩石板上停留很长的时间。
The valley was in solitude and so was the tree. These hills were some of the oldest on earth, and so they knew what it is to be alone and far away. Loneliness is sad with the creeping desire to be related, not to be cut off; but this sense of solitude, this aloneness was related to everything, part of all things. You were not aware that you were alone, for there was the trees, the rocks, the murmuring water. You are only aware of your loneliness, not of your solitude; and when you are aware of your solitude, you have become lonely. The hills, the streams, that man passing by, were all part of this solitude whose purity held all impurity within itself, and was not soiled by it. But impurity could not share this solitude. It is impurity that knows loneliness, that is burdened with sorrow and pain of existence. Sitting there under the tree, with large ants crossing your leg, in that measureless solitude there was the movement of timeless age. It wasn’t a space-covering movement, but a movement within itself, a flame within the flame, a light within the emptiness of light. It was a movement that would never stop, for it had no beginning and no cause to end. It was a movement that had no direction, and so it covered space. There under that tree time stood still, like the hills, and this movement covered it and went beyond it; so time could never overtake this movement. The mind could never touch the hem of it; but the mind was this movement. The watcher could not race with it, for he was able only to follow his own shadow and the words that clothed it. But under that tree, in that aloneness, the watcher and his shadow were not.
山谷是幽静的，树也是。 这些山脉属于地球上最古老的某部分， 所以，他们知道什么是独立和遥远。 孤独是悲伤的，渴望着联络，不被切断； 而这幽静，这个独立，与一切关联，是一切的一部分。 你没有意识到你是独立的， 因为那里有树木、岩石、喃喃自语的溪水。 你只能意识到你的孤独，而不是你的清幽； 当你意识到你的清幽时，你已经变得孤独。 山脉、溪流、那个路人，都是幽静的一部分， 它的纯洁包涵所有的不纯洁，却没被玷污。 但那不纯洁的，不能分享这种幽静。 那不纯洁的知道孤独，背负着悲伤与痛苦。 坐在树下，大蚂蚁穿过你的腿， 在那无法衡量的幽静里，有亘古不变的运动。 它不是一种覆盖空间的运动，而是它里面的一个运动， 火焰中的火焰，光里的虚无中的光。 它是一个永不停止的运动，因为它没有开始，也没结束的原因。 这是一个没有方向的运动，所以它覆盖了太空。 在那棵树下，时光静穆，如同群山， 这个运动覆盖了它，远离了它；所以时间总赶上这个运动。 头脑永远无法触及它的裙摆；但头脑就是这个运动。 观察者无法与它赛跑， 因为他只能追随他自己的影子和那披在影子上的文字。 但在那棵树下，在那独立中，观察者和他的影子不在。
The wells were full, the hills were still watching and waiting, and the birds were still flying in and out among the leaves.
泉源充溢，群山仍然在观察和等待， 鸟儿们仍在树叶间飞来飞去。
A man and his wife and there friend were sitting in the sunlit room. There were no chairs, but only a straw mat on the floor, and we all sat around it. Of the two windows, one looked out on a blank, weather-beaten wall, and through the other were visible some bushes which needed watering. One was in bloom, but without sent. The husband and wife were fairly well-to-do, and they had grown-up children who were living there own lives. He was retired, and they had a little place of there own in the country. They rarely came to town, he said, but they had come especially to hear the talks and discussions. During the three weeks of the meetings there particular problem had not been touched upon, and so they were here. Their friend, an oldish, grey-headed man who was growing bald, lived in town. He was a well-known lawyer with an excellent practice.
一个男人和他的妻子以及他的朋友，坐在阳光明媚的房间里。 没有椅子，地板上的只有一个草席，我们都围着它坐下。 在两扇窗户中，一扇窗望向一堵空的、饱经风霜的墙壁， 另一扇窗透过窗户可以看到一些需要浇水的灌木丛。 一棵正在发芽，还没有长出新叶。 这对夫妻相当富裕， 他们有抚养成人的孩子们，已经在那里过自己的生活。 他退休了，他们在乡下有一小块地。 他说，他们很少来镇上， 但他们来了，是特别想听讲话和讨论。 在为期三周的讲话期间， 没有触及到某些具体的问题，因此他们到了这儿。 他们的朋友，一个年老的灰头男人，正在长成秃头，住在镇上。 他是一位著名的律师，拥有出色的执业经验。
“I know you don’t approve of our profession, and sometimes I think you are right,” said the lawyer. “Our profession is not what it should be; but what profession is? The three professions of lawyer, soldier and policeman are, as you say, detrimental to man and a disgrace to society – and I would include the politician. Being in it, I can’t at this late date get out of it, though I have given considerable thought to the matter. But I am not here to talk about this, though I would like very much to avail myself of another opportunity to do so. I came with my friends because there problem interests me too.”
“我知道你不赞成我们的职业， 有的时候，我想你是对的，” 律师说。 “我们的职业不是它应有的样子。但什么职业是呢？ 正如你所说，律师、军人和警察 这三种职业对人类有害，对社会是一种耻辱 —— 我会把政治家包括在内。 深陷其中，我无法在这么晚的时候摆脱它， 尽管我已经对这个问题进行了相当多的思考。 但是，我在这儿不是要谈论这个问题， 尽管我非常希望利用另一次机会这样做。 我和我的朋友一起过来，因为那个问题我也感兴趣。”
“What we want to talk about is rather complex, at least as far as I can see,” said the husband. “My lawyer friend and I have been interested for many years in religious matters – not in mere ritualism and conventional beliefs, but in something much more than the usual paraphernalia of religions. Speaking for myself, I may say that I have meditated for a number of years on various questions pertaining to the inner life, and I always find myself wandering about in circles. For the present I do not want to talk over the implications of meditation, but to go into the question of simplicity. I feel one must be simple, but I’m not sure I know what simplicity is. Like most people, I am a very complex being; and is it possible to become simple?”
“我们想谈论的东西相当复杂， 至少我是这么看的，” 丈夫说。 “我和我的律师朋友多年来一直对宗教事务感兴趣 —— 不仅仅是仪式主义和传统信仰， 而是比通常的宗教物什更多的东西。 就我个人而言，我可以这么说， 关于内在生活的各种问题，我已经沉思了多年， 而总是发现自己在里面打转。 就目前而言，我不想谈论冥想的含义， 而是要讨论关于简单的问题。 我觉得一个人必须很简单，但我不确定我是否知道什么是简单。 像大多数人一样，我自己很复杂；我有可能变得简单吗？”
To become simple is to continue in complexity. It is not possible to become simple, but one can approach complexity with simplicity. “But how can the mind, which is very complex, approach any problem simply?”
变得简单，就是继续复杂化。 不可能变得简单，但人可以简单地处理复杂。 “但是，非常复杂的头脑怎么能简单地处理任何问题呢？”
Being simple and becoming simple are two entirely distinct processes, each leading in a different direction. Only when the desire to become ends is there the action of being. But before we go into all that, may one ask why you feel that you must have the quality of simplicity? What is the motive behind this urge?
简单和变得简单，是两个完全不同的过程， 各自朝着不同的方向发展。 只有结束想要‘变成’的欲望，才存在行动。 但在我们进入所有这些之前，人可以问： 为什么你觉得你必须具有简单的品质？ 这个冲动背后的动机是什么？
“I really don’t know. But life is getting more and more complicated; there is greater struggle, with growing indifference and wider superficiality. Most people are living on the surface and making a lot of noise about it, and my own life is not very deep; so I feel I must become simple.”
“我真的不知道。但生活越来越复杂。 挣扎更加激烈，冷漠日益严重，肤浅的程度越来越高。 大多数人都生活在表面上，并在上面制造出很多噪音， 而我自己的生活并不深刻；所以我觉得我必须变得简单。”
Simple in outward things, or inward? “In both ways.”
是外在的简单，还是内在的？“两方面都要。”
Is the outward manifestation of austerity – having few clothes, taking only one meal a day, doing without the usual comforts, and so on – an indication of simplicity?
简朴的外在表现 —— 拥有很少的衣物，每天只吃一顿饭，行动时没有平常的舒适，等等 —— 是简单的表现吗？
“Outward austerity is necessary, is it not?”
“外在的简朴是必要的，不是吗？”
We will find the truth of the falseness of that presently. Do you think it is simplicity to have a mind cluttered with beliefs, with desires and there contradictions, with envy and the pursuit of power? Is there simplicity when the mind is occupied with its own advancement in virtue? Is an occupied mind a simple mind? “When you put it that way, it becomes obvious that it is not a simple mind. But how can one’s mind be cleansed of its accumulations?”
我们将从目前的虚伪中找出它的真相。 你觉得一个装满了信仰、欲望和矛盾、嫉妒和对权力的追求的头脑， 是简单的吗？ 当头脑被自己在美德方面所取得的进步所占据时，有简单吗？ 一个被占据的头脑是一个简单的头脑吗？ “当你那样说时，很明显它不是一个简单的头脑。 但是，一个人的头脑怎么才能清除它的积累物呢？”
We haven’t come to that yet, have we? We see that simplicity is not a matter of outward expression, and that as long as the mind is crowded with knowledge, experiences, memories, it is not truly simple. Then what is simplicity? “I doubt that I can give a correct definition of it. These things are very difficult to put into words.”
我们还没有达到那一点，对吧？ 我们看到，简单不是一个外在表现的事情， 只要头脑中充满了知识、体验、记忆， 就没有真正的简单。 那么，什么是简单？ “我怀疑我能给出一个正确的定义。 这些东西很难用言语来表达。”
We are not seeking a definition, are we? We will find the right words when we have the feeling of simplicity. You see, one of our difficulties is that we to find an adequate verbal expression without feeling the quality, the inwardness of the thing. Do we ever feel anything directly? Or do we feel everything through words, through concepts and definitions? Do we ever look at a tree, at the see, at the sky, without forming words, without a remark about them?
我们不是在寻求一个定义，是吗？ 当我们有简单的感觉，我们会找到正确的词语。 你看，我们的困难之一就是， 我们在找一个适当的口头表达， 而不去感受这个东西的性质和内涵。 我们可曾直接地感受过任何一个东西？ 还是我们在通过文字，通过概念和定义而感受每一个东西？ 我们可曾看一棵树、大海、天空， 而不去形成文字，不给它们一个评论？
“But how is one to feel the nature or quality of simplicity?”
“但是，人如何感受简单的性质或品格呢？”
Are you not preventing yourself from feeling its nature by asking for a method which will bring it about? When you are hungry and there is food before you, you do not ask “How am I to eat?” You just eat. The ‘how’ is always a digression from the fact. The feeling of simplicity has nothing to do with your opinions, words or conclusions about that feeling. “But the mind, with its complexities, is always interposing what it thinks it knows about simplicity.”
通过要求一种可以实现简单的方法 你难道不是正在阻止你自己感受它的性质吗？ 当你饥饿，面前有食物时，你不会问“我怎么吃？” 你只是吃。‘怎么’总是对这个事实的偏离。 简单的感觉 与你对这种感觉的观点、词语或相关的结论无关。 “但是，这个头脑以及它的复杂性， 总是在插嘴，认为它自己知道简单。”
Which prevents it from staying with the feeling. Have you ever tried to stay with the feeling? “What do you mean by staying with the feeling?”
是谁在阻拦这种感觉的来临？ 你有没有试过与那种感觉相处？ “你说的‘与那种感觉相处’是什么意思？”
You stay with a feeling of pleasure, don’t you? Having tasted it, you try to hold onto it, you scheme to continue with it, and so on. Now, can one stay with the feeling which the word ‘simplicity’ represents? “I don’t think I know what the feeling is, so I can’t stay with it.”
你和一种愉悦的感觉相处，不是吗？ 品尝过它之后，你试图抓住它，你计划继续与它待在一起，等等。 现在，一个人可以与‘简单’这个词所代表的感觉相处吗？ “我不认为我知道那是什么感觉，所以我不能和它待在一起。”
Is there the feeling apart from the reactions aroused by that word ‘simplicity’? Is there the feeling separate from the word, the term, or are they inseparable? The feeling itself and the naming of it are almost simultaneous, aren’t they? The word is always put together, maid up, but the feeling is not; and it is very arduous to separate the feeling from the word. “Is such a thing possible?”
除了‘简单’这个词引起的反应之外，存在这种感觉吗？ 是否存在与这个词语、这个专用术语分开的感觉？或者，它们密不可分？ 感觉本身和它的称呼几乎是同时出现的，不是吗？ 这个称呼总是包含了两者 —— ‘服务员，快过来’，但这种感觉不是； 而且要将感觉与名称分开，是非常艰巨的。 “这种的事情，有可能吗？”
Is it not possible to feel intensely, purely, without contamination? To feel intensely about something – about the family, about the country, about a cause – is comparatively easy. Intense feeling or enthusiasm may arise through identifying oneself with a belief or ideology, for example. Of this one knows. One may see a flock of white birds in the blue sky and almost faint with the intense feeling of such beauty, or one may recoil with horror at the cruelty of man. All such feelings are aroused by a word, by a scene, by an act, by an object. But is there not an intensity of feeling without an object? And is not that feeling incomparably great? Is it then a feeling, or something entirely different?
难道不可能在没有污染的情况下强烈地、纯粹地感受吗？ 强烈地感受某个东西 —— 家人、乡村、一个原因 —— 是相对容易的。 强烈的感受或热情， 可以通过将自己与某种信仰或意识形态相认同，这样就能产生。例如： 一个人所知晓的，一个人可能会看到一群白色的鸟儿在蓝天下， 几乎被这种强烈的美感所晕倒， 或者一个人可能会对人类的残忍感到恐惧。 所有这些感受都是由一个词、一个场景、一个行为、一个对象所唤醒的。 但是，没有了对象，就不存在强烈的感觉吗？ 这种感觉难道不是无比的伟大吗？ 那么，它到底是一种感觉，还是一种完全不同的东西？
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about sir. I hope you don’t mind my telling you so.”
“恐怕我不知道你在说什么，先生。 我希望你别介意。”
Not at all. Is there a state without cause? If there is, then can one feel it out, not verbally or theoretically, but actually be aware of that state? to be thus acutely aware, verbalization in every form, and all identification with the word, with memory, must wholly cease. Is there a state without cause? Is not love such a state? “But love is sensual, and beyond that is the divine.”
一点也不。存在一个没有原因的状态吗？ 如果有，那么人能不能感觉到它，不是口头上或理论上， 而是真正意识到那种状态？ 为了敏锐地感受， 各种形式的描述，以及词语、记忆的所有认同， 必须完全消失。 存在一个没有原因的状态吗？爱不是那样的状态吗？ “但爱是感官性的，超越那些的，是神。”
We are back in the same confusion, are we not? To divide love as this and that is worldly; from this division there is profit. To love without the verbal-moral hedge around it is the state of compassion, which is not aroused by an object. Love is action, and all else is reaction. An act born of reaction only breeds conflict and sorrow. “If I may say so, sir, this is all beyond me. Let me be simple, and then perhaps I shall understand the profound.”
我们又回到了同样的困惑中，不是吗？ 把爱割裂成两半，这种爱和那种红尘中的爱； 这一刀割下去，就有利可图了。 没有被言词化的伦理道德所羁绊的爱 是一种慈，完整的激情，不是由一个对象所唤醒的。 爱是行动；而其余的一切，都是反应。 由反应而产生的行动，只会滋生冲突和悲伤。 “如果我可以这么说，先生，这一切都超出了我的理解范围。 让我简单一点，然后，也许我会理解那深刻的东西。”