72
With days of hard travail I raised a temple. It had no doors or windows， its walls were thickly built with massive stones.
用了几天的苦工，我盖起一座庙宇。这庙里没有门窗，墙壁是用层石厚厚地垒起的。
I forgot all else， I shunned all the world， I gazed in rapt contemplation at the image I had set upon the altar.
我忘掉一切，我躲避大千世界，我神注目夺地凝视着我安放在龛里的偶像。
It was always night inside， and lit by the lamps of perfumed oil.
里面永远是黑夜，以香油的灯盏来照明。
The ceaseless smoke of incense wound my heart in its heavy coils.
不断的香烟，把我的心缭绕在沉重的螺旋里。
Sleepless， I carved on the walls fantastic figures in mazy bewildering lines——winged horses， flowers with human faces， woman with limbs like serpents.
我彻夜不眠，用扭曲混乱的线条在墙上刻画出一些奇异的图形——生翼的马，人面的花。四肢像蛇的女人。
No passage was left anywhere through which could enter the song of birds， the murmur of leaves or hum of the busy village.
我不在任何地方留下一线之路，使鸟的歌声，叶的细语，或村镇的喧嚣得以进入。
The only sound that echoed in its dark dome was that of incantations which I chanted.
在沉黑的仰顶上，唯一的声音是我礼赞的回响。
My mind became keen and still like a pointed flame， my senses swooned in ecstasy.
我的心思变得强烈而镇定，像一个尖尖的火焰。我的感官在狂欢中昏晕。
I knew not how time passed till the thunderstone had struck the temple， and a pain stung me through the heart.
我不知时间如何度过，直到巨雷震劈了这座庙宇，一阵剧痛刺穿我的心。
The lamp looked pale and ashamed； the carvings on the walls， like chained dreams， stared meaningless in the light as they fain hide themselves.
灯火显得苍白而羞愧；墙上的刻画像是被锁住的梦，无意义地瞪视着，仿佛要躲藏起来。
I looked at the image on the altar. I saw it smiling and alive with the living touch of God. The night I had imprisoned had spread its wings and vanished.
我看着龛上的偶像，我看见它微笑了，和神的活生生的接触，它活了起来。被我囚禁的黑夜，展起翅来飞逝了。