How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find

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问题     How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In the spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter’s sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool waters of a brook rush thought my open finger. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the page ant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.

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答案 我独自一人,在林子里散步一小时之久而没有看到任何值得注意的东西,那怎么可能呢?我自己,一个不能看见东西的人,仅仅通过触觉,都发现许许多多令我有兴趣的东西。我感触到一片树叶的完美的对称性。我用手喜爱地抚摸过一株白桦那光潮的树皮,或一棵松树的粗糙树皮。春天,我摸着树干的枝条满怀希望地搜索着嫩芽,那是严冬的沉睡后,大自然苏醒的第一个迹象。我抚摸过花朵那令人愉快的天鹅绒般的质地,感觉到它那奇妙的卷绕,一些大自然奇迹向我展现了。有时,如果我很幸运,我把手轻轻地放在一棵小树上,还能感受到一只高声歌唱的小鸟的愉快颤抖,我十分快乐地让小溪涧的凉水穿过我张开的手指流淌过去。对我来说,一片茂密的地毯式的松针叶或松软而富弹性的草地比最豪华的波斯地毯更受欢迎。对我来说四季的壮观而华丽的展示是一部令人激动的、无穷尽的戏剧。这部戏剧的表演,通过我的手指尖端涌淌出来。

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