It's hard to find online. You can go to the bookstore, live in www.amazon.cn, find Dangdang and Douban and buy one. I'll give you an English-Chinese gardener's collection.

6 1

Be quiet, my heart, and let the parting moment be sweet.

Be quiet, my heart, and let the parting time be sweet.

Let it not be dead, but complete.

Let it be not death, but perfection.

Let love melt into memory and pain melt into songs.

Let love melt into memory and pain melt into poetry.

Let the flight across the sky end in the folding of the wings on the nest.

Let the flight across the sky end in the folding of the wings on the nest.

Let the last touch of your hands be as gentle as the flower of the night.

Let the last contact between your hands be as gentle as a flower in the night.

Ah, beautiful ending, stand quietly for a while and say your last words silently.

Stop for a moment, oh, "beautiful ending" and say the last words silently.

I bow to you, raise my lamp and light up your way forward.

I bow to you, raise my lamp and light your way home.

62

On the dark path of dreams, I went to find the love that belonged to me in my previous life.

On the hazy dream path, I went to find the love of previous lives.

Her house is located at the end of a desolate street.

Her house is at the end of a quiet street.

In the evening breeze, her pet peacock dozed off on its perch, and pigeons were silent in their corner.

In the evening breeze, her favorite peacock fell asleep on the shelf, and the pigeon was silent in its corner.

She put the lamp by the door and stood in front of me.

She put the lamp by the door and stood in front of me.

She raised her big eyes to my face and asked silently, "How are you, my friend?"

She raised a pair of big eyes to look at my face and asked silently, "How are you, my friend?"

I tried to answer, but our language has been lost and forgotten.

I wanted to answer, but our language was lost and forgotten.

I thought and thought; I can't remember our names.

I thought about it, but I can't remember our names.

Tears glistened in her eyes. She raised her right hand to me. I took it and stood silently.

With tears in her eyes, she extended her right hand to me. I held her hand and stood silently.

Our lights flickered out in the evening breeze.

Our lights trembled and went out in the evening breeze.

63

Traveler, do you have to go?

Traveler, do you have to go?

In the dead of night, darkness enveloped the forest.

The night is silent and the darkness sleeps in the forest.

The lights on our balcony are bright, the flowers are fresh, and the young eyes are still awake.

Our balcony is brightly lit, the flowers are delicious, and the eyes of youth are still awake.

Is it time for you to leave?

Should you go?

Traveler, do you have to go?

Traveler, do you have to go?

We didn't bind your feet with pleading arms.

We have never embraced your feet with pleading arms.

Your door is open. Your horse has a saddle at the door.

Your door is open. Your horse standing outside the door is saddled.

If we tried to stop you from passing, it was because of our song.

If we want to get in your way, it's just our song.

Have we ever tried to stop you? That's with our eyes.

If we want to keep you, we only use our eyes.

Traveler, we can't keep you. We only have tears.

Traveler, we have no hope to keep you, we only have tears.

What irresistible flame shines in your eyes?

What kind of immortal fire shines in your eyes?

What restless fanaticism is running in your blood?

What kind of agitation is flowing in your veins?

What's calling you in the dark?

What brought you out of the darkness?

What terrible spell did you read among the stars in the sky, with a sealed secret message, and the night entered your heart silently and strangely?

What terrible spell have you read from the stars in the sky, that is, the sealed secret news brought by the silent and strange night entering your heart?

If you don't like happy parties, if you must be peaceful and tired, we will put out our lights and silence our piano.

If you don't like lively meetings, if you need a quiet and sleepy heart, we will blow out the lights and stop the piano.

We will sit quietly in the dark where the leaves rustle, and the tired moon will shed pale light on your window.

We will sit quietly in the dark in the sound of leaves, and the tired moon will shed pale light on your window.

Oh, traveler, what sleepless spirit touched you from the midnight heart?

Oh, on the way, what sleepless spirit contacted you from the heart of midnight?

64

I spent a day in the hot dust on the road.

I spent a day in the hot dust on the road.

Now, on a cool night, I knock on the door of the inn. It was abandoned and in ruins.

Now, on a cool night, I knock on the door of a small temple. This temple has been abandoned and collapsed.

A gloomy gray tree sticks out its hungry roots from a crack in the sidewalk.

A sad bodhi tree sticks out its hungry paw roots through the cracks in the broken wall.

A few days ago, travelers came here to wash their tired feet.

Pedestrians often come here to wash their feet.

In the twilight of the first month, they spread out mats in the yard and sat talking about strange land.

They spread out their mats in the yard in the twilight of the new moon and sat talking about the scenery of a strange place.

In the morning, birds make them happy, friendly flowers nod to them from the roadside, and they wake up refreshed.

Getting up early makes them refreshed, birds make them happy, and friendly flowers on the roadside nod to them.

But when I came here, there was no lighted lamp waiting for me.

But there was no light waiting for me when I came.

The black smoke left by many forgotten night lights stared at the wall like blind eyes.

Only the black smoke left by the lamp stared at me from the wall like the eyes of the blind.

Fireflies fly around in the bushes near the dry pond, and bamboo branches cast their shadows on the grassy path.

Fireflies flicker in the grass beside the dry pool, and bamboo shadows sway on the deserted path.

At the end of the day, I'm nobody's guest.

In the end I became a guest without a host.

The long night is in front of me, and I'm tired.

It's been a long night for me and I'm very tired.

65

Is that your phone again?

Did you call me again?

Night has come. Tiredness hugs me like courting arms.

When night came, I felt sleepy and hugged me with my arms, like a plea of love.

Did you call me?

Did you call me?

I gave you all my days, cruel mistress. Are you going to deprive me of my nights?

I gave you all day, cruel housewife. Do you still want to steal my night?

Somewhere everything has an end, and the dark loneliness is your own.

Everything has an end, and the dark silence is unique to individuals.

Does your voice have to penetrate it and hit me?

Does your voice have to penetrate the darkness to stab me?

In front of your door, is there no sleeping music in the dark?

Isn't there music to sleep in front of your house at night?

Have the stars with silent wings never climbed the sky on your heartless tower?

Will the stars with silent wings never climb your heartless tower?

In your garden, do flowers never fall on the dust in a gentle death?

Will the flowers in your garden die soft on the ground forever?

Do you have to call me, you restless man?

Do you have to call me, you restless man?

Then let the sad eyes of love stare and cry in vain.

Then let the sad eyes of love cry for hope in vain.

Let the lights burn in the lonely house.

Leave the light on in the empty room.

Let the ferry take the tired workers home.

Let the ferry take those sleepy workers home.

I left my dream and ran to your call.

I left my dream behind to accept my call.

66

A wandering madman is looking for a touchstone. His hair is disheveled, taupe and dusty, his body has worn into a shadow, his lips are closed, just like his closed heart door, and his burning eyes are like fireflies looking for its partner.

A wandering madman is looking for the philosopher's stone. His brown hair is covered with dust and his body is as thin as a shadow. His lips are tight, just like the closed door of his heart. His red eyes are like the light of fireflies, looking for his lover.

Before him, the endless ocean roared.

The boundless sea roared before him.

The chattering waves keep talking about hidden treasures and laughing at ignorance that doesn't know its meaning.

The noisy waves kept talking about the hidden jewels and laughing at the fools who didn't understand their meaning.

Maybe he has no hope now, but he won't rest, because searching has become his life-

Maybe now he has no hope, but he refuses to rest, because seeking has become his life-

Just like the ocean always opens its arms to the sky to meet the unattainable-

Just like the ocean always reaches out to the sky and asks for what it can't get-

It's like the stars are circling, but they are looking for a goal that can never be achieved-

It's like a star walking in a circle, but looking for a goal that can never be reached-

Even so, on the lonely coast, the madman with gray brown hair is still roaming, looking for the touchstone.

In that lonely seaside, the madman with messy hair is still wandering for the stone.

One day, a village boy came up and asked, "Tell me, where did this gold chain around your waist come from?"

One day, a village boy came up and asked, "Tell me, where did the gold chain around your waist come from?"

The madman was startled-the chain that used to be iron really turned into gold; This is not a dream, but he doesn't know when it changed.

The madman was startled-it turned out that the iron chain had really turned into gold; This is not a dream, but he doesn't know when it will come true.

He knocked wildly on his forehead-where did he succeed and didn't know it?

He rapped wildly on his forehead-when, oh, when did he succeed unconsciously?

It has become a habit to pick up pebbles and touch chains and then throw them away without seeing if there is any change; In this way, the madman found and lost the touchstone.

It has become a habit to pick up a pebble and touch the chain, and then throw it away without looking at the change. That's it. The madman found and lost the philosopher's stone.

The sun is setting in the west and the sky is golden.

The sun sets and the sky is golden.

The madman followed his footsteps and searched for the lost treasure again. His strength disappeared, his body bent, and his heart was in the dust, like a tree uprooted.

The madman walked back along his footprints, looking for his lost treasure. His strength is exhausted, his body is bent, and his heart hangs in the dust like a uprooted tree.