Ranbindranath Tagore
Hands cling to hands and eyes Iinger on eyes,
thus begins the record of our hearts.
It is the moonlit night of March,
the sweet smell of henna is in the air,
my flute lies on the earth neglected
and your garland of flowers is unfinished.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
Your veil of the saffron colour makes my eyes drunk.
The jasmine wreath that you wove me thrills to my heart like
praise.
It is a game of giving and withholding, revealing and screening
again;some smiles and some little shyness,
and some sweet useless struggles.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
No mystery beyond the present;
no striving for the impossible;
no shadow behind the charm;
no groping in the depth of the dark.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
We do not stray out of all words into the ever silent;
we do not raise our hands to the void for things beyond hope.
It is enough what we give and we get.
We have not crushed the joy to the utmost to wring from it the
wine of pain.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
羅賓德拉納特·泰戈?duì)?/p>
兩手相挽,凝眸相視,
這樣開(kāi)始了我們的心的記錄。
這是三月的月明之夜,
空氣里是指甲花的甜香,
我的橫笛遺忘在地上,
而你的花環(huán)也沒(méi)有編成。
你我之間的愛(ài)情像歌曲般單純。
你的番紅花色的面紗,使我醉眼陶然。
你為我編的茉莉花環(huán)使我心震顫,像是受了贊揚(yáng)一般。
這是一種欲予故奪、欲露故藏的游戲;
有些微笑,有些羞怯,
還有一些甜柔的無(wú)用的掙扎。
你我之間的愛(ài)情像歌曲般單純。
沒(méi)有超越現(xiàn)實(shí)的神秘;
沒(méi)有對(duì)不可能的事物的強(qiáng)求;
沒(méi)有藏在魅力背后的陰影;
也沒(méi)有在黑暗深處的摸索。
你我之間的愛(ài)情像歌曲般單純。
我們并不背離一切言語(yǔ)而走入永遠(yuǎn)緘默的歧途;
我們并不向空虛伸手要求超乎希望的事物。
我們所給予的和我們所得到的,都已經(jīng)足夠。
我們不曾過(guò)度地耽于歡樂(lè)而從中榨出痛苦的醇酒。
你我之間的愛(ài)情像歌曲般單純。
實(shí)戰(zhàn)提升
背景知識(shí)
羅賓德拉納特·泰戈?duì)枺≧anbindranath Tagore),印度著名詩(shī)人、作家、藝術(shù)家和社會(huì)活動(dòng)家。1913年獲諾貝爾文學(xué)獎(jiǎng)。泰戈?duì)柺蔷哂芯薮笫澜缬绊懙淖骷摇K矊?xiě)了50多部詩(shī)集,被稱為“詩(shī)圣”。
《園丁集》是泰戈?duì)柕囊徊恐匾拇碜?,是一部“生命之歌”,它更多地融入了?shī)人青春時(shí)代的體驗(yàn),細(xì)膩地描敘了愛(ài)情的幸福、煩惱與憂傷,可以視為一部青春戀歌。詩(shī)人在回首往事時(shí)吟唱出這些戀歌,在回味青春心靈的悸動(dòng)時(shí),無(wú)疑又與自己的青春保有一定距離,并進(jìn)行理性的審視與思考,使這部戀歌不時(shí)地閃爍出哲理的光彩。
單詞注解
Iinger['li?g?]逗留,徘徊
stray[strei]迷路,走失;走散
void[v?id]空閑的,閑散的
crush[kr??]壓碎,壓壞
名句誦讀
lt is the moonlit night of March;the sweet smell of henna is in the air;my flute lies on the earth neglected and your garland of flowers is unfinished.
We do not stray out of all words into the ever silent;we do not raise our hands to the void for things beyond hope.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.