Photo by David Whyte
THE JOURNEY / David Whyte
旅程
the geese turn into
the light again
山岳之上，
群雁迴轉
向光，
painting their
black silhouettes
on an open sky.
將其黑色輪廓
勾勒於
開敞穹蒼。
Sometimes everything
has to be
enscribed across
the heavens
有時
必須讓一切
鑲嵌於
整面天空，
so you can find
the one line
already written
inside you.
你才得以尋獲
早已刻寫於
你之內的
那一行。
Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that
有時就是需要
一面廣袤天空，
才能尋獲
first, bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.
那第一個
楔入你心的
明亮而
無法言喻的自由。
Sometimes with
the bones of the black
sticks left when the fire
has gone out
有時會有人
在火光熄滅之後
拾起焦黑的
殘枝遺骨，
someone has written
something new
in the ashes
of your life.
於你生命的
灰燼裡
寫下一點
嶄新的什麼。
You are not leaving,
even as the light
fades quickly now,
you are arriving.
你並非離去，
即使在火光驟逝
的此刻，
你是抵達。
(Mary May 譯）
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