THE OTHER DAY as one was walking along a secluded wooded lane far from the noise and the brutality and the vulgarity of civilization, right away from everything that was put together by man, there was a sense of great quietness, enveloping all things - serene, distant and full of the sound of the earth. As you walked along quietly, not disturbing the things of the earth around you, the bushes, the trees, the crickets and the birds, suddenly round a bend there were two small creatures quarrelling with each other, fighting in their small way. One was trying to drive off the other. The other was intruding, trying to get into the other's little hole, and the owner was fighting it off. Presently the owner won and the other ran off. Again there was quietness, a sense of deep solitude. And as you looked up, the path climbed high into the mountains, the waterfall was gently murmuring down the side of the path; there was great beauty and infinite dignity, not the dignity achieved by man that seems so vain and arrogant. The little creature had identified itself with its home, as we human beings do. We are always trying to identify ourselves with our race, with our culture, with those things which we believe in, with some mystical figure, or some saviour, some kind of super authority. Identifying with something seems to be the nature of man. Probably we have derived this feeling from that little animal.
那天，当一个如漫步在一条人迹罕至的林荫道上， 远离文明的喧嚣、残忍和粗俗，远离人为制造的一切， 有一种囊括万物的伟大的安静感 —— 宁静，遥远，充满着大地的声音。 你静静地散步，没有打扰周围大地上的一切， 这些灌木丛、树林、蟋蟀和鸟儿。 突然，在转角处，有两个小家伙在相互争吵，以它们细微地方式在打斗， 一个正在试图驱赶另一个。 另一个是入侵者，企图进入另一个的巢穴，而这位主人正在为此而战斗。 现在这位主人获胜，另一个落荒而逃。 有一次，安静出现了，一种深沉的寂寥。 你抬头观看，这条路向上延伸进入大山，瀑布在小路的一侧轻轻地低语而下。 这里有一种伟大的美和无限的庄严，但不是人类获取的庄严，那看起来是如此的虚荣和傲慢。 这个小家伙认为那个窝是它的家，就像我们人类的做法。 我们总是试图让自己认同于我们的种族、我们的文化， 认同于我们相信的那些东西，某些神秘人物，或者某个救世主，某种超级权威。 对某个东西的认同，似乎是人的天性。 也许，我们的这种感觉恰恰源于那只小动物。
One wonders why this craving, longing, for identification exists. One can understand the identification with one's physical needs - the necessary things, clothes, food, shelter and so on. But inwardly, inside the skin as it were, we try to identify ourselves with the past, with tradition, with some fanciful romantic image, a symbol much cherished. And surely in this identification there is a sense of security, safety, a sense of being owned and of possessing. This gives great comfort. One takes comfort, security, in any form of illusion. And man apparently needs many illusions.
一个人在想，为什么有对认同的这种渴望，期盼。 一个人能理解这种认同于一个人的物质需求 —— 这些必需品，衣服、食物、居所、等等。 但是在里面，在这皮肤之下， 我们试图认同于我们的这个过去，认同于传统、某些奇异的浪漫画面、一个我们珍视的符号。 毫无疑问，这种认同之中，有一种安全感，保障感，一种被拥有和占据的感觉。 这带来了很大的安逸。 一个人从各种虚幻的形式中，去抓取安逸和安全。而人显然需要大量的虚幻。
In the distance there is the hoot of an owl and there is a deep-throated reply from the other side of the valley. It is still dawn. The noise of the day has not begun and everything is quiet. There is something strange and holy where the sun arises. There is a prayer, a chant to the dawn, to that strange quiet light. That early morning, the light was subdued, there was no breeze and all the vegetation, the trees, the bushes, were quiet, still, waiting. Waiting for the sun to arise. And perhaps the sun would not come up for another half hour or so, and the dawn was slowly covering the earth with a strange stillness.
远处有猫头鹰的鸣叫，随后从山谷的另一边传来一声深远的回应。 天还没亮，白天的喧闹还没开始，一切都是安静。 太阳升起的地方有某种奇特而神圣的东西， 有一种对黎明、对那奇特而安静的光的祈祷和吟唱。 那个早晨，光线柔和，没有一丝微风， 所有的植物、树林、灌木丛，安静，静止，等待。等待太阳的升起。 也许太阳在半个小时后才会升起， 这个黎明用一种奇怪的静止渐渐地覆盖大地。
Gradually, slowly, the topmost mountain was getting brighter and the sun was touching it, golden, clear, and the snow was pure, untouched by the light of day.
渐渐地，慢慢地，最高的山顶逐渐明亮， 太阳在触摸它，金黄，清晰，而雪依然纯净，未被日光所触碰。
As you climbed, leaving the little village paths down below, the noise of the earth, the crickets, the quails and other birds began their morning song, their chant, their rich worship of the day. And as the sun arose you were part of that light and had left behind everything that thought had put together. You completely forgot yourself. The psyche was empty of its struggles and its pains. And as you walked, climbed, there was no sense of separateness, no sense of being even a human being.
你继续往上爬，把乡间小路留在身后， 这里有大地的噪音，蟋蟀、鹌鹑和一些鸟儿唱起了它们的晨曲、它们的吟咏，它们对这一天深厚的崇敬。 当朝阳升起时，你就是那光的一部分，放弃了思想所拼凑的每一个东西。 你完全忘了你自己，心灵清空了它的挣扎和它的苦痛。 在你走路，爬山之时，没有分离感，甚至没有作为人类的感觉。
The morning mist was gathering slowly in the valley, and that mist was you, getting more and more thick, more and more into the fancy, the romance, the idiocy of one's own life. And after a long period of time you came down. There was the murmur of the wind, insects, the calls of many birds. And as you came down the mist was disappearing. There were streets, shops, and the glory of the dawn was fast fading away. And you began your daily routine, caught in the habit of work, the contentions between man and man, the divisions of identification, the division of ideologies, the preparations for wars, your own inward pain and the everlasting sorrow of man.
晨雾在山谷里慢慢聚集，那雾就是你， 越来越厚，越来越深地进入这幻想，这浪漫，这一个人自身生命的愚蠢之中。 良久之后，你下山了。一路上有风的低语，昆虫和许多鸟儿的呼唤。 当你下山时，这雾消失了。 出现了街道、商店，黎明的辉煌迅速消退。 然后你开始了你的日常公事， 陷进了工作的习惯中：人与人之间的争辩、认同的划分、 意识形态的划分、为战争而准备、你所拥有的内心的痛苦和人无尽的悲伤。