The Five Images of Love_心灵鸡汤
grace rhys—novelist and essayist：mary dominic (1898), the wooing of sheila (1901), the bride (1909), five beads on a string (essays) (1907), etc.
no one understands the nature of love; it is like a bird of heaven that sings a strange language. it lights down among us, coming from whence we know not, going we know not how or when, striking out wild notes of music that make even fatigued and heavy hearts to throb and give back a tone of courage.
the sorts and kinds of love are infinite in number, infinite as the days of the years of time. each one of us is capable of many and various loves. we cannot love two creatures, not two dogs, with the same love. to each of those whom we love we offer a gem of different colour and value;—to the unknown master of the heavens, ah! who shall tell of what sort is the love we offer to him? yet in this love, too (which is natural worship), we discover the same vibrational atmosphere that invades the soul of all lovers.
i doubt we shall not get much nearer to the nature of love by mere talking. intellectual statements are of little use. god does not make intellectual statements, he creates. we have to find our way about in the vast medley of created things that life spreads out around us, and pick up what bits of knowledge we can as we make our way along.
let me choose five images that will give an idea of what the awaking of this new life means.
i. shall we not say that the creature without love is like the lamp unlit? there it is, and no one needs it. but touch it with flame, and it trembles and glows and becomes the centre of the room where it stands. everything that falls under its rays is new-gilt. so does the lover see all natural things quite new.
ii. or take the image of the withering plant that is dying of drought. the sun’s rays have parched it; the roots have searched and searched for moisture in a soil that grows every day harder and drier. the plant wilts and hangs its head; it is fainting and ready to die, when down comes the rain in a murmuring multitude of round scented drops. the purest thing alive, a distilled essence, necessary to life. under that baptism the plant lifts itself up; it drinks and rejoices. in the night it renews its strength; in the morning the heat it has had from the sun, reinforced by the rain, bursts out into coloured flowers. so i have known a man battered by hard life and the excess of his own passions: i have seen love come to such a man and take him up and cleanse him and set him on his feet; and from him has burst forth a flood of colour and splendour—creative work that now lends its fiery stimulus to thousands.
iii. another image might be of the harp that stands by itself in golden aloofness. then come the beautiful arms, the curving fingers that pluck at the strings, and the air is filled with melody; the harp begins to live, thrilling and rejoicing. down to its golden foot.
iv. or picture the unlighted house, empty at fall of night. the windows are dark; the door shut; the clean wind goes about and about it, and cannot find an entrance. the dull heavy air is faint within; it longs to be reunited to the wind of the world outside. then comes the woman with the key, and in she steps; the windows are opened, the imprisoned air rushes out, the wind enters; the lamps and the fire are lit; so that light fills windows and doors. the tables are set, there is the sound of footsteps; and more footsteps. the house glows and lives.
one could please oneself by many more images; such as the white garment of feathers that the young swans put on in the spring: the young flowers opening out their cups to the sun that fills them with his golden wine. all life is full of such images, because nature has ruled that love, energy, beauty, and joy are one.
v. a last image only i would like to add because of the pleasure it has given me. on the north door of the cathedral of chartres there is a sculptured design, some six hundred years old, of god creating the birds. god is charming, quite young, not more than thirty-eight or so; he has a most sweet expression. behind him a little stands the son, about seventeen, tall as he and very like him, but beardless. he has the same sweetness of look, as though upon each countenance an ineffable smile were just dawning. the father is holding something that time has broken in his hand; most likely it is a bird. what a fortunate moment! what a fortunate thought! no wonder they both look pleased. never have the birds disappointed him as have we, his ruder children. every spring since then these small creature
s praise him, head turned skywards, for the joy of the beloved, for the secret nest.
imagining and pondering, one is apt to grow a little wise; now perhaps we may say that love is a radiant atmosphere of the soul, a celestial energy, a fluid force.
this force, this energy is set running in the wide kingdom that is within us by some spirit touch. a soft tumult takes place in the life within; waves on waves of joy, desire, grief, ecstasy begin to run, making a trembling music that often causes the whole body to shake and tremble too.
i am in love with love; i do adore it;—from the smile on that rough fellow’s face as he talks to his dog, to the ardours of a st. francis or a joan of arc. that bright creative flame, winged, conferring the gift of tongues, master of all music, of all joy, is the best thing we have of life.
爱的五大意像
格雷斯•里斯
格雷斯•里斯，小说家和随笔作家。著有《玛丽•多明尼克》 (1898) ，《希拉的追求》(1901)，《新娘》(1909)和《一根线上的五颗珠子》（随笔）(1907)等。
没有人知道爱的本质是什么，它就象天堂里的鸟，吟唱着陌生的语言。它用光辉普照我们，它来无影、去无踪，它敲击出狂野的，弹拨于疲惫、沉重的心灵，呼唤出勇敢的乐音。
爱之多样，如一年之中的日日天天。我们每个人都具有各种不同的爱之能力，我们不会以同一种方式去爱恋两个人、两条狗。对每一位我们钟爱的人，我们奉献的是色彩不同、价值各异的宝石。对天国神秘的主，谁能说清我们奉献的是什么样的一种爱？然而，在这爱恋（这自然崇拜）之中，我们发现，侵入所有爱者心灵的，是相同的震颤。
我不信我们的讨论探讨不出爱之真谛。理性陈述常苍白无力，上帝不作理性陈述，上帝创造！我们要在生活展现给我们的无数繁杂的创造物之中，找到自己的方式，并在前行的过程中收集一点一滴的知识。
我选择5个意象来描画这一新生活之复苏意味着什么。
首先，我以为，无爱的生灵，就如置放在一旁尚未点燃的灯，没有人需要它。一经火焰点燃，它摇曳，它闪光，它成了屋里的中心。在它的照耀下，一切都似乎重新镀了一层金。正因为此，在拥有爱的人眼的里，世界全是新的。
其次，无爱的生灵就如即将死于干旱的枯萎的植物。太阳的光烧烤着它，植物的根在日益坚硬、干枯的土壤里寻觅养分。植物枯萎了，耷拉下脑袋。就在它晕眩之际、快要死去之时，突然普降喜雨，那是生命的甘霖。雨露滋润之下，植物昂起了头，它畅饮，它欢欣。夜晚，它恢复了体力。白天，它享受雨后强劲的阳光，绽放出五彩之花。我认识一位被艰难的生活和自己过度情感打磨的男人，我看到爱普降于他，扶持他，净化他，并支撑着他站立起来，使之迸发出壮丽与光彩----现在成了激励无数人的创新杰作。
第三，无爱的生灵就象一尊超然独立的竖琴，拨动琴弦的美丽手臂和纤纤玉指，让空气中弥漫起悦耳的旋律。竖琴顿时活了,开始振奋和欢欣，其情绪一直感染至琴基。
第四，无爱的生灵就象秋天的夜晚中一栋没有光亮的屋子,窗口黑暗，门窗紧闭，清新的风儿绕着它无法吹进。屋内沉闷的空气让人昏厥，渴望与外面清新的风儿汇集。这时，一位手持钥匙的佳人翩然而至,步入室内，推开窗,清风穿进；点亮灯，点燃炉，灯火照亮门窗。餐桌摆放停当,脚步声接踵而来，屋子开始弥漫起活力与生机。
我们还可以想象出更多自己喜欢的意象，比如春天里小天鹅生长起的洁白羽毛；向着给自己注入金色琼浆的太阳开放的花蕾。所有的生命都充满了这样的意象，因为大自然裁定，爱、活力、美和愉悦浑然合一。
我要补充的最后一个意象，是因为它曾经给我带来愉悦。沙特尔大教堂北门上的一个雕刻设计，有六百年之久,上面雕的是上帝造鸟。上帝很迷人，很年轻, 大概三十八岁左右，他表情甜美，身后站着天子，大约十七岁,和他一般高，跟他很相象,但没有胡子。他的脸上泛着同样甜美的神情，好像所有的表情中都呈现出一种不可言喻的微笑。天父正握着时间开辟于他手中的东西，很可能是一只鸟。多么幸运的时刻!多么吉利的主意!难怪他们看上去都很高兴。鸟儿从未像我们，他粗鲁的孩子一样，让他失望。从那以后，每到春天，这些小生灵便仰望长空，为心爱人儿的愉悦、为隐秘的鸟巢而赞美他。
想像与沉思,它能让我们变得更为明智。现在我们也许会说，爱是灵魂璀璨的氛围，是精妙的活力，是流动的力量。
这力量,这活力被某种精神触觉所导引，在我们宽广的身体王国中奔跑。生活中，温软的骚动被拨动，愉悦、欲望、悲伤和狂喜开始交替涌起,奏起让全身心震颤的乐音。
我与爱相恋，我真的很爱慕它----从那粗汉与自己的狗儿聊天时脸上呈现的微笑之中,从他对某个圣弗兰西斯或圣女贞德的热忱之中。那光亮创新的火焰,圣灵所赐的口才，所有、愉悦的主人，是我们从生活中获取的最佳赏赐。 （编辑：赵露）
（何朝阳，中国技术大学外语系）