16

Hands cling to hands and eyes linger on eyes; thus begins the record of our hearts.

It is the moonlit night of March; the sweet smell of henna is in the air; my flute lies on the earth neglected and your garland of flowers is unfinished.

This love between you and me is simple as a song.

Your veil of the saffron colour makes my eyes drunk.

The jasmine wreath that you wove me thrills to my heart like praise.

It is a game of giving and withholding, revealing and screening again; some smiles and some little shyness, and some sweet useless struggles.

This love between you and me is simple as a song.

No mystery beyond the present; no striving for the impossible; no shadow behind the charm; no groping in the depth of the dark.

This love between you and me is simple as a song.

We do not stray out of all words into the ever silent; we do not raise our hands to the void for things beyond hope.

It is enough what we give and we get.

We have not crushed the joy to the utmost to wring from it the wine of pain.

This love between you and me is simple as a song.

手握着手，眼望着眼；就这样开始了我们的心路历程。

三月的月明之夜；空气里有凤仙花的甜蜜；我的横笛躺在地上，你的花环也没有编成。

你我之间的爱像歌曲一样淳朴。

你橘黄色的面纱使我眼睛迷醉。

你为我编的茉莉花环使我心激动，像受了表扬。

这是一个又予又留、又隐又现的游戏；有些微笑，有些羞怯，也有些甜蜜的无用的斗争。

你我之间的爱像歌曲一样淳朴。

没有当前以外的神秘，不强求做不到的事情，没有魅惑后面的阴影，没有幽暗深处的探求。

你我之间的爱像歌曲一样淳朴。

我们没有走出一切语言之外而进入永远的沉默；我们没有举起手，寻求希望以外的东西。

我们付出，得到，这足够了。

我们没有乐极生悲榨取痛苦的酒。

你我之间的爱像歌曲一样淳朴。