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I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
我常想，如果每一個人在剛成年時，有幾天突然既盲又聾，也不失為一件幸事。黑暗會令他更感激光明；寂靜會教他領會聲音的樂趣。
Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. "Nothing in particular," she replied. I might have shown disbelief had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.
有時我會試探視力正常的朋友，問他們看見了什么。最近，一位非常要好的朋友來看我，她剛剛在樹林里走了很長時間，我問她看見了什么。“沒什么，”她回答說。我本應覺得難以置信，不過我早已習慣類似回答，因為很久以前我就知道視力正常的人看到的東西很少。
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 bark of a pine. In 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 texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable folds; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me.
我問自己，在樹林里散步一個小時，看不到任何值得注意的東西，這怎么可能呢？我看不見東西，只憑觸摸，卻也能發現數以百計的有趣的東西。我感覺到樹葉的精巧對稱。我的手愛撫著白樺樹光滑的樹皮，或是松樹粗糙的樹干。春天里，我懷著希望觸摸著樹枝尋找新芽，那是大自然從冬眠中蘇醒后的第一個征象。我感受花朵的悅人紋理，發現它的可愛褶皺，大自然的神奇一角展現在我的面前。
