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“My feet are languid with the burden of my heart； and I stand still in the shadow。”
“Ah； shame！”
“Well； some march on their way and some linger； some are free and some are fettered—and my feet are languid with the burden of my heart。”
The Gardener 26
“What es from your willing hands I take。 I beg for nothing more。”
“Yes； yes； I know you； modest mendicant； you ask for all that one has。”
“If there be a stray flower for me I will wear it in my heart。”
“But if there be thorns？”
“I will endure them。”
“Yes； yes； I know you； modest mendicant； you ask for all that one has。”
“If but once you should raise your loving eyes to my face it would make my life sweet beyond death。”
“But if there by only cruel glances？”
“I will keep them piercing my heart。”
“Yes； yes； I know you； modest mendicant； you ask for all that one has。”
The Gardener 27
“Trust love even if it brings sorrow。 Do not close up your heart。”
“Ah no； my friend； your words are dark； I cannot understand them。”
“The heart is only for giving away with a tear and a song； my love。”
“Ah no； my friend； your words are dark； I cannot understand them。”
“Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop； while it laughs it dies。 But sorrow is strong and abiding。 Let sorrowful love wake in your eyes。”
“Ah no； my friend； your words are dark； I cannot understand them。”
“The lotus blooms in the sight of the sun； and loses all that it has。 It would not remain in bud in the eternal winter mist。”
“Ah no； my friend； your words are dark； I cannot understand them。”
The Gardener 28
Your questioning eyes are sad。 They seek to know my meaning as the moon would fathom the sea。
园丁集 第十章（3）
I have bared my life before your eyes from end to end； with nothing hidden or held back。 That is why you know me not。
If it were only a gem I could break it into a hundred pieces and string them into a chain to put on your neck。
If it were only a flower； round and small and sweet； I could pluck it from its stem to set it in your hair。
But it is a heart； my beloved。 Where are its shores and its bottom？
You know not the limits of this kingdom； still you are its queen。
If it were only a moment of pleasure it would flower in an easy smile； and you could see it and read it in a moment。
If it were merely a pain it would melt in limpid tears； reflecting its inmost secret without a word。
But it is love； my beloved。
Its pleasure and pain are boundless； and endless its wants and wealth。
It is as near to you as your life； but you can never wholly know it。
The Gardener 29
Speak to me； my love！ Tell me in words what you sang。 The night is dark。
The stars are lost in clouds。 The wind is sighing through the leaves。
I will let loose my hair。 My blue cloak will cling round me like night。 I will clasp your head to my bosom，and there in the sweet loneliness murmur on your heart。 I will shut my eyes and listen。 I will not look in your face。
When your words are ended； we will sit still and silent。 Only the trees will whisper in the dark。
The night will pale。 The day will dawn。 We shall look at each other's eyes and go on our different paths。
Speak to me； my love！ Tell me in words what you sang。
The Gardener 30
You are the evening cloud floating in the sky of my dreams。
I paint you and fashion you ever with my love longings。
You are my own； my own； Dweller in my endless dreams！
Your feet are rosy…red with the glow of my heart’ s desire；
Gleaner of my sunset songs！
Your lips are bitter…sweet with the taste of my wine of pain。
You are my own； my own； Dweller in my lonesome dreams！
With the shadow of my passion have I darkened your eyes； haunter of the depth of my gaze！
I have caught you and wrapt you； my love； in the net of my music。
You are my own； my own； Dweller in my deathless dreams！
The Gardener 31
My heart； the bird of the wilderness； has found its sky in your eyes。
They are the cradle of the morning； they are the kingdom of the stars。
My songs are lost in their depths。
Let me but soar in that sky； in its lonely immensity。
Let me but cleave its clouds and spread wings in its sunshine。
The Gardener 32
Tell me if this be all true； my lover； tell me if this be true。
When these eyes flash their lightning the dark clouds in your breast make stormy answer。
Is it true that my lips are sweet like the opening bud of the first conscious love？
Do the memories of vanished months of May linger in my limbs？
Does the earth； like a harp； shiver into songs with the touch of my feet？
Is it then true that the dewdrops fall from the eyes of night when I am seen； and the morning light is glad when it wraps my body round？
园丁集 第十章（4）
Is it true； is it true； that your love travelled alone through ages and worlds in search of me？
That when you found me at last； your age…long desire found utter peace in my gentle speech and my eyes and lips and flowing hair？
Is it then true that the mystery of the Infinite is written on this little forehead of mine？
Tell me； my lover； if all this be true。
The Gardener 33
I love you； beloved。 Forgive me my love。
Like a bird losing its way I am caught。
When my heart was shaken，it lost its veil and was naked。 Cover it with pity； beloved； and forgive me my love。
If you cannot love me； beloved； forgive me my pain。
Do not look askance at me from afar。
I will steal back to my corner and sit in the dark。
With both hands I will cover my naked shame。
Turn your face from me； beloved； and forgive me my pain。
If you love me； beloved； forgive me my joy。
When my heart is borne away by the flood of happiness； do not smile at my perilous abandonment。
When I sit on my throne and rule you with my tyranny of love； when like a goddess I grant you my favour； bear with my pride； beloved； and forgive me my joy。
The Gardener 34
Do not go； my love； without asking my leave。
I have watched all night； and now my eyes are heavy with sleep。
I fear lest I lose you when I am sleeping。
Do not go； my love； without asking my leave。
I start up and stretch my hands to touch you。 I ask myself； “Is it a dream？”
Could I but entangle your feet with my heart and hold them fast to my breast！
Do not go； my love； without asking my leave。
The Gardener 35
Lest I should know you too easily； you play with me。
You blind me with flashes of laughter to hide your tears。
I know； I know your art。
You never say the word you would。
Lest I should not prize you； you elude me in a thousand ways。
Lest I should confuse you with the crowd； you stand aside。
I know； I know your art。
You never walk the path you would。
Your claim is more than that of others； that is why you are silent。
With playful carelessness you avoid my gifts。
I know； I know your art。
You never will take what you would。
The Gardener 36
He whispered；“My love； raise your eyes。”
I sharply chid him； and said“Go！”； but he did not stir。
He stood before me and held both my hands。 I said；“Leave me！”； but he did not go。
He brought his face near my ；“What a shame！”；but he did not move。
His lips touched my cheek。 I trembled and said；“You dare too much”； but he had no shame。
He put a flower in my hair。 I said；“It is useless！”； but he stood unmoved。
He took the garland from my neck and went away。 I weep and ask my heart；“Why does he not e back？”
The Gardener 37
Would you put your wreath of fresh flowers on my neck； fair one？
But you must know that the one wreath that I had woven is for the many； for those who are seen in glimpses； or dwell in lands unexplored； or live in poets’ songs。
It is too late to ask my heart in return for yours。
园丁集 第十章（5）
There was a time when my life was like a bud； all its perfume was stored in its core。
Now it is squandered far and wide。
Who knows the enchantment that can gather and shut it up again？
My heart is not mine to give to one only； it is given to the many。
The Gardener 38
My love； once upon a time your poet launched a great epic in his mind。
Alas； I was not careful； and it struck your ringing anklets and came to grief。
It broke up into scraps of songs and lay scattered at your feet。
All my cargo of the stories of old wars was tossed by the laughing waves and soaked in tears and sank。
You must make this loss good to me； my love。
If my claims to immortal fame after death are shattered； make me immortal while I live。
And I will not mourn for my loss nor blame you。
The Gardener 39
I try to weave a wreath all the morning； but the flowers slip and they drop out。
You sit there watching me in secret through the corner of your prying eyes。
Ask those eyes； darkly planning mischief； whose fault it was。
I try to sing a song； but in vain。
A hidden smile trembles on your lips； ask of it the