the book of tea-第11章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


et！　　We　devastate　nature　in　order　to　make　sacrifice　to　him。　　We　boast　that　we　have　conquered　Matter　　and　forget　that　it　is　Matter　that　has　enslaved　us。　　What　atrocities　　do　we　not　perpetrate　in　the　name　of　culture　and　refinement！

Tell　me；　gentle　flowers；　teardrops　of　the　stars；　standing　in　the　garden；　nodding　your　heads　to　the　bees　as　they　sing　of　the　dews　and　the　sunbeams；　are　you　aware　of　the　fearful　doom　that　awaits　you？　　Dream　on；　sway　and　frolic　while　you　may　in　the　gentle　breezes　of　summer。　　To…morrow　a　ruthless　hand　will　close　　around　your　throats。　　You　will　be　wrenched；　torn　asunder　limb　　by　limb；　and　borne　away　from　your　quiet　homes。　　The　wretch；　she　may　be　passing　fair。　　She　may　say　how　lovely　you　are　while　her　fingers　are　still　moist　with　your　blood。　　Tell　me；　will　this　be　kindness？　It　may　be　your　fate　to　be　imprisoned　in　the　hair　of　one　whom　you　know　to　be　heartless　or　to　be　thrust　into　the　buttonhole　of　one　who　would　not　dare　to　look　you　in　the　face　were　you　a　man。　　It　may　even　be　your　lot　to　be　confined　in　some　narrow　vessel　with　only　stagnant　water　to　quench　the　maddening　thirst　that　warns　of　ebbing　life。

Flowers；　if　you　were　in　the　land　of　the　Mikado；　you　might　some　time　meet　a　dread　personage　armed　with　scissors　and　a　tiny　saw。　He　would　call　himself　a　Master　of　Flowers。　　He　would　claim　the　rights　of　a　doctor　and　you　would　instinctively　hate　him；　for　you　know　a　doctor　always　seeks　to　prolong　the　troubles　of　his　victims。　He　would　cut；　bend；　and　twist　you　into　those　impossible　positions　which　he　thinks　it　proper　that　you　should　assume。　　He　would　contort　your　muscles　and　dislocate　your　bones　like　any　osteopath。　He　would　burn　you　with　red…hot　coals　to　stop　your　bleeding；　and　thrust　wires　into　you　to　assist　your　circulation。　　He　would　diet　you　with　salt；　vinegar；　alum；　and　sometimes；　vitriol。　　Boiling　water　would　be　poured　on　your　feet　when　you　seemed　ready　to　faint。　It　would　be　his　boast　that　he　could　keep　life　within　you　for　two　or　more　weeks　longer　than　would　have　been　possible　without　his　treatment。　　Would　you　not　have　preferred　to　have　been　killed　at　once　when　you　were　first　captured？　　What　were　the　crimes　you　must　have　committed　during　your　past　incarnation　to　warrant　such　punishment　in　this？

The　wanton　waste　of　flowers　among　Western　communities　is　even　more　appalling　than　the　way　they　are　treated　by　Eastern　Flower　Masters。　　The　number　of　flowers　cut　daily　to　adorn　the　　ballrooms　and　banquet…tables　of　Europe　and　America；　to　be　thrown　away　on　the　morrow；　must　be　something　enormous；　if　strung　together　they　might　garland　a　continent。　　Beside　this　utter　carelessness　of　life；　the　guilt　of　the　Flower…Master　becomes　insignificant。　　He；　at　least；　respects　the　economy　of　nature；　　selects　his　victims　with　careful　foresight；　and　after　death　does　honour　to　their　remains。　　In　the　West　the　display　of　flowers　seems　to　be　a　part　of　the　pageantry　of　wealth；the　fancy　of　a　moment。　Whither　do　they　all　go；　these　flowers；　when　the　revelry　is　over？　Nothing　is　more　pitiful　than　to　see　a　faded　flower　remorselessly　　flung　upon　a　dung　heap。

Why　were　the　flowers　born　so　beautiful　and　yet　so　hapless？　　Insects　can　sting；　and　even　the　meekest　of　beasts　will　fight　when　brought　to　bay。　　The　birds　whose　plumage　is　sought　to　deck　some　bonnet　can　fly　from　its　pursuer；　the　furred　animal　whose　coat　you　covet　for　your　own　may　hide　at　your　approach。　　Alas！　　The　only　　flower　known　to　have　wings　is　the　butterfly；　all　others　stand　　helpless　before　the　destroyer。　　If　they　shriek　in　their　death　agony　　their　cry　never　reaches　our　hardened　ears。　　We　are　ever　brutal　to　　those　who　love　and　serve　us　in　silence；　but　the　time　may　come　when；　for　our　cruelty；　we　shall　be　deserted　by　these　best　friends　of　ours。　Have　you　not　noticed　that　the　wild　flowers　are　becoming　scarcer　　every　year？　　It　may　be　that　their　wise　men　have　told　them　to　　depart　till　man　becomes　more　human。　　Perhaps　they　have　migrated　to　heaven。

Much　may　be　said　in　favor　of　him　who　cultivates　plants。　　The　man　of　the　pot　is　far　more　humane　than　he　of　the　scissors。　　We　watch　with　delight　his　concern　about　water　and　sunshine；　his　feuds　with　parasites；　his　horror　of　frosts；　his　anxiety　when　the　buds　come　slowly；　his　rapture　when　the　leaves　attain　their　lustre。　　In　the　East　the　art　of　floriculture　is　a　very　ancient　one；　and　the　loves　of　a　poet　and　his　favorite　plant　have　often　been　recorded　in　story　and　song。　　With　the　development　of　ceramics　during　the　Tang　and　Sung　dynasties　we　hear　of　wonderful　receptacles　made　to　hold　plants；　not　pots；　but　jewelled　palaces。　　A　special　attendant　was　detailed　to　wait　upon　each　flower　and　to　wash　its　leaves　with　soft　brushes　made　of　rabbit　hair。　It　has　been　written　＇〃Pingtse〃；　by　Yuenchunlang＇　that　the　peony　should　be　bathed　by　a　handsome　maiden　in　full　costume；　that　a　winter…plum　should　be　watered　by　a　pale；　slender　monk。　　In　Japan；　one　of　the　most　popular　of　the　No…dances；　the　Hachinoki；　composed　during　the　Ashikaga　period；　is　based　upon　the　story　of　an　impoverished　knight；　who；　on　a　freezing　night；　in　lack　of　fuel　for　a　fire；　cuts　his　cherished　plants　in　order　to　　entertain　a　wandering　friar。　　The　friar　is　in　reality　no　other　than　Hojo…Tokiyori；　the　Haroun…Al…Raschid　of　our　tales；　and　the　sacrifice　is　not　without　its　reward。　　This　opera　never　fails　to　draw　tears　from　a　Tokio　audience　even　to…day。

Great　precautions　were　taken　for　the　preservation　of　delicate　blossoms。　　Emperor　Huensung；　of　the　Tang　Dynasty；　hung　tiny　golden　bells　on　the　branches　in　his　garden　to　keep　off　the　birds。　　He　it　was　who　went　off　in　the　springtime　with　his　court　musicians　to　gladden　the　flowers　with　soft　music。　A　quaint　tablet；　which　tradition　ascribes　to　Yoshitsune；　the　hero　of　our　Arthurian　legends；　is　still　extant　in　one　of　the　Japanese　monasteries　＇Sumadera；　near　Kobe＇。　It　is　a　notice　put　up　for　the　protection　of　a　certain　wonderful　plum…tree；　and　appeals　to　us　with　the　grim　humour　of　a　warlike　age。　　After　referring　to　the　beauty　of　the　blossoms；　the　inscription　says：　〃Whoever　cuts　a　single　branch　of　this　tree　shall　forfeit　a　finger　therefor。〃　　Would　that　such　laws　could　be　enforced　nowadays　against　those　who　　wantonly　destroy　flowers　and　mutilate　objects　of　art！

Yet　even　in　the　case　of　pot　flowers　we　are　inclined　to　suspect　the　selfishness　of　man。　　Why　take　the　plants　from　their　homes　and　ask　them　to　bloom　mid　strange　surroundings？　　Is　it　not　like　asking　the　birds　to　sing　and　mate　cooped　up　in　cages？　Who　knows　but　that　the　orchids　feel　stifled　by　the　artificial　heat　in　your　conservatories　and　hopelessly　long　for　a　glimpse　of　their　own　Southern　skies？

The　ideal　lover　of　flowers　is　he　who　visits　them　in　their　native　haunts；　like　Taoyuenming　＇all　celebrated　Chinese　poets　and　philosophers＇；　who　sat　before　a　broken　bamboo　fence　in　converse　with　the　wild　chrysanthemum；　or　Linwosing；　losing　himself　amid　mysterious　fragrance　as　he　wandered　in　the　twilight　among　the　plum…blossoms　of　the　Western　Lake。　'Tis　said　that　Chowmushih　slept　in　a　boat　so　that　his　dreams　might　mingle　with　those　of　the　lotus。　　It　was　the　same　spirit　which　moved　the　Empress　Komio；　one　of　our　most　renowned　Nara　sovereigns；　as　she　sang：　〃If　I　pluck　thee；　my　hand　will　defile　thee；　O　flower！　Standing　in　the　meadows　as　thou　art；　I　offer　thee　to　the　Buddhas　of　the　past；　of　the　present；　of　the　future。〃

However；　let　us　not　be　too　sentimental。　　Let　us　be　less　luxurious　but　more　magnificent。　　Said　Laotse：　〃Heaven　and　earth　are　pitiless。〃　　Said　Kobodaishi：　〃Flow；　flow；　flow；　flow；　the　current　of　life　is　ever　onward。　　Die；　die；　die；　die；　death　comes　to　all。〃　Destruction　faces　us　wherever　we　turn。　　Destruction　below　and　above；　destruction　behind　and　before。　　Change　is　the　only　Eternal；why　not　as　welcome　Death　as　Life？　　They　are　but　counterparts　one　of　the　other；The　Night　and　Day　of　Brahma。　Through　the　disintegration　of　the　old；　re…creation　becomes　possible。　　We　have　worshipped　Death；　the　relentless　goddess　of　mercy；　under　many　different　names。　　It　was　the　shadow　of　the　All…devouring　that　the　Gheburs　greeted　in　the　fire。　　It　is　the　icy　purism　of　the　sword…soul　before　which　Shinto…Japan　prostrates　herself　even　to…day。　　The　mystic　fire　consumes　our　weakness；　the　sacred　sword　cleaves　the　bondage　of　desire。　　From　our　ashes　sp