It was a koto player carefully  tuning her instrument.

这是一位古者正在仔细地调音她的乐器。

No sounds of footsteps, no people chattering, no radios, no bamboo, no kotos being tuned.

有脚步声，有人们的闲聊声，有收音机，有竹子，有调音的古琴。

But the koto player just smiled a mysterious smile and went back to playing.

但这位古者只是神秘地笑了笑，然后继续弹。

Yoshio bowed to the koto player and ran to school.

吉雄向古者鞠了一躬，然后跑向学校。

" Sensei, " Yoshio said, " do you have a favorite sound? " " The most beautiful sound, " the koto  player said, " is the sound of ma, of silence." " Silence? " Yoshio asked.

“老师，” 吉雄说，“你有最喜欢的声音吗？ ” “最美丽的声音，” 这位古者说， “是‘ma’的声音， 即寂静的声音。” “安静？ ” 吉雄问道。

When the song finished, Yoshio said, " Sensei, I love sounds, but I've never heard a sound like that! " The koto player laughed, and it sounded like the metal bell that  swayed in the wind in Mama's garden.

当歌曲结束时， 吉雄说：“老师，我喜欢声音， 但我从来有听过这样的声音！ ” 古者笑了，听起来就像妈妈花园里随风摇曳的金属铃。