Chapter 47 Acoustic - 5

Now that the vehicle has driven away, all the restless world is far away from it, the fish in the lake no longer feel the vibration, and I feel extremely lonely.During the rest of the long afternoon, my meditation was rarely interrupted by the faint sound of a carriage, or the sound of donkeys and horses on the far road. Sometimes, on Sundays, I hear bells: Lincoln, Acton, Bedford, or Concord, when the wind is right, so soft and sweet, as if a melody of nature, worth drifting into the moors .Over the forest at a reasonable distance, it got some sort of oscillating swell, as if the pine needles on the horizon were plucked by the strings of a great harp.All sounds, when heard at the greatest possible distance, have the same effect as the trembling of the cosmic lyre strings, just as the farthest mountain ridges, when viewed far away, Because of this, it will be stained with the same bluish tint.The bells that came to me this time brought a melody that stretched the air, and after it had greeted every leaf and every pine needle, they took it up and gave it another tune , and passed from one valley to another.The echo, within a certain limit, is the original sound, and that is its magic and loveliness.Not only does it repeat the bells that are worth repeating, but it also repeats some of the sounds in the woods; some of the tweets and melodies sung by a banshee.

At dusk, on the distant horizon, some cows call into the forest. It is very sweet and has an elegant melody. At first I thought it was the voice of some troubadours. Some nights, I heard them serenade. Maybe they are Wandering through the valley; but after listening to it, I was gladly disappointed. After a long stretch, it turned out to be the sound of a cow, free music.I said, to my ears, the singing of young people is similar to that of a cow. I am not being sarcastic. I admire their singing voices very much. These two voices are, in the end, heavenly. Very punctual, at half past seven in a certain part of the summer, after the night train passed by, the nighthawks would sing Vespers for half an hour, standing on the tree stump in front of my door, or on the roof beams.As accurate as clocks are, every evening, within five minutes of a certain time after sunset, they must begin to sing.What a rare opportunity, I figured out their habits.Sometimes, I heard four or five of them singing at different places in the forest, and the pitches were accidentally one bar apart. They were really close to me, and I could still hear the click of the tongue behind each note, and often I heard a unique buzzing sound, like a fly thrown into a spider's web, but it was louder.Sometimes a nightjar was in the woods, only a few feet around me, circling, flying, flying, as if they were held by a rope, perhaps because I was near their eggs.They sang now and then throughout the night, and were especially musical just before and near dawn.

When the other birds quieted down, the owl picked it up, like a mourning woman, uttering the sad cry of "woo-loo-loo" since ancient times, quite in the style of Ben Jonson's poetry.Wise witch of midnight!This is not as real and rigid as some poets sing "Jiu-wei" and "Jiu-hu"; it is not a joke, but it is a lament in the cemetery, like a pair of lovers who committed suicide in the forest of hell, Thinking of the pain and joy of love in life, they comfort each other.Yet I love to hear their lamentations, their doleful echoes, Trilling along the wood-side; Makes me think now and then of music and song-birds;They are the personifications of a fallen soul, gloomy spirits, portents of sorrow, who once had human form, walked the land by night doing dark deeds, and now in the scene of crime they sang dirges for atonement.They made me feel freshly that in our common dwelling, nature is really unpredictable and full of energy.Uh-heh-heh-heh-heh-I want never-no-no-life-uh!On this side of the lake, a nighthawk sighed like this, circled in anxious disappointment, and finally landed on another gray-black oak tree, so——I will never—never—never—live --Ok!On the far side another nightjar answered tremblingly, faithfully, and, far from Lincoln's woods, came a faint echo-never-never-never- Ok!