书城文学泰戈尔诗集:世界上最遥远的距离
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第3章 飞鸟集 (3)

and I feel the freedom of passing away.

我灵魂的忧伤是新娘的面纱,

等候着在午夜被掀开。

The sadness of my soul is her bride’ s veil.

It waits to be lifted in the night.

死之烙印将价值赋予生之硬币,

使其可以用生命来购买那些真正宝贵的东西。

Death’s stamp gives value to the coin of life;

making it possible to buy with life what is truly precious.

白云谦逊地站在天之一隅。

晨光冠之以辉煌。

The cloud stood humbly in a corner of the sky.

The morning crowned it with splendour.

泥土饱受侮辱,却以花朵作为回报。

The dust receives insult and in return offers her flowers.

尽管走过去,不必为了采集花朵而徘徊,

因为美丽的花儿会一路开放。

Do not linger to gather flowers to keep them, but walk on,

for flowers will keep themselves blooming all your way.

根是地下的枝。

枝是空中的根。

Roots are the branches down in the earth.

Branches are roots in the air.

逝去了的夏之曲,飘摇在秋间,

寻求它旧日的巢。

The music of the far-away summer flutters around the autumn seeking its former nest.

不要把你口袋里的功绩借给你的朋友,这会侮辱他。

Do not insult your friend by lending him merits from your own pocket.

那在无名之日里的感触,牵系我心,

宛如绿色的苔藓,缠绕着老树。

The touch of the nameless days clings to my heart

like mosses round the old tree.

回声讥笑她的原声,借以证明她是原声。

The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original.

当事业有成者自吹得到了上帝的特别恩宠时,上帝却感到羞耻。

God is ashamed when the prosperous boasts of his special favour.

我将影子投射在前方的路上,

因为我有一盏还没有燃亮的灯。

I cast my own shadow upon my path,

because I have a lamp that has not been lighted.

人们走入喧哗的人群中,想要淹没自己沉默的呼声。

Man goes into the noisy crowed to drown his own clamour of silence.

终止枯竭的是“死亡”,

而终止于无限的是“圆满的结束”。

That which ends in exhaustion is death,

but the perfect ending is in the endless.

太阳穿上朴素的光之衣,云朵却披上了绚丽的衣服。

The sun has his simple rode of light. The clouds are decked with gorgeousness.

群山如孩童般叫嚷,举起他们的双臂,想摘下繁星。

The hills are like shouts of children who raise their arms, trying to catch stars.

道路虽然熙熙攘攘,却十分落寞,因为没有人去爱它。

The road is lonely in its crowd for it is not loved.

权力夸耀它的恶行,却被飘落的黄叶与浮游的云嘲笑。

The power that boasts of its mischiefs is laughed at by the yellow leaves that fall, and clouds that pass by.

今天大地在阳光下向我细语,像一个纺纱的妇人,用一种已被遗忘的语言,哼唱着古老的抒情曲。

The earth hums to me today in the sun, like a woman at her spinning, some ballad of the ancient time in a forgotten tongue.

小草无愧于它所生长的伟大世界。

The grass-blade is worthy of the great world where it grows.

梦是一个喋喋不休的妻子,

睡眠是一个默默忍受的丈夫。

Dream is a wife who must talk,

sleep is a husband who silently suffers.

夜吻着逝去的日子,在他耳旁低语着:“我是死亡,是你的母亲。我来赋予你新生。”

The night kisses the fading day whispering to his ear, “I am death, your mother. I am to give you fresh birth.”

黑夜啊,我感觉到你的美了,

你的美犹如一个熄灯之后的可爱妇人。

I feel the beauty, dark night, like that of the loved woman when she has put out the lamp.

我把那些已逝去的尘世繁荣带到我的世界中。

I carry in my world that flourishes the worlds that have failed.

亲爱的朋友啊,当我静静地听着涛声时,

我感觉到了你伟大思想的沉默,就在暮色深沉的海滩上。

Dear friend, I feel the silence of your great thoughts of many a deepening eventide on this beach when I listen to these waves.

鸟以为把鱼抓在空中是一种善行。

The bird thinks it is an act of kindness to give the fish a life in the air.

黑夜对太阳说:“在月光下,你把你的情书送给了我;

在草地上,我已带着斑斑泪痕回答你了。”

“In the moon thou send thy love letters to me,”

said the night to the sun,

“I leave my answers in tears upon the grass.”

“伟大”是个天生的孩子;

当他死时,他把他伟大的孩提时代给了这个世界。

The Great is a born child;

when he dies he gives his great childhood to the world.

不是槌的打击,而是水的歌舞,使得鹅卵石臻于完美。

Not hammer-strokes, but dance of the water sings the pebbles into perfection.

蜜蜂在花丛中采蜜,离开时低语道谢。

花哨的蝴蝶却相信花儿应当向他致谢。

Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave.

The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him.

当你不想说出完全的真理时,畅所欲言是轻而易举的。

To be outspoken is easy when you do not wait to speak the complete truth.

“可能”问“不可能”:“你住在哪里?”

它回答道:“在那无能者的梦境里。”

Asks the Possible to the Impossible,

“Where is your dwelling place?”

“In the dreams of the impotent,” comes the answer.

如果你把所有的错误拒之门外,

那么真理也会被关在外面。

If you shut your door to all errors,

truth will be shut out.

我听见在我忧郁的心后面有东西在沙沙作响——可我看不见它们。

I hear some rustle of things behind my sadness of hear—I cannot see them

富含活力的闲暇就是工作;

海水的静止摆动成浪涛。

Leisure in its activity is work.

The stillness of the sea stirs in waves.

绿叶恋爱时便成了花朵。

花儿仰慕时便成了果实。

The leaf becomes flower when it loves.

The flower becomes fruit when it worships.

树根让树枝长出了果实,却不计回报。

The roots below the earth claim no rewards for making the branches fruitful

飘雨的黄昏,不停地吹着风。

我望着摇曳的树枝,思索着万物的伟大。

This rainy evening the wind is restless.

I look at the swaying branches and ponder over the greatness of all things.

子夜的暴风雪,像一个巨大的孩子,在不合时宜的黑夜中醒来,开始游戏和喧闹。

Storm of midnight, like a giant child awakened in the untimely dark, has begun to play and shout.

海啊,你这暴风雨寂寞的新娘啊,

你虽然卷起波浪去追随你的情人,却徒劳无功。

Thou raise thy waves vainly to follow the lover, O sea,

thou lonely bride of thy storm.

“言语”对“工作”说:“我羞愧于我的空虚。”

“工作”对“言语”说:“我一看见你,就知道自己是怎样的贫乏了。”

I am ashamed of my emptiness, said the Word to the Work.

“I know how poor I am when I see you,” said the Work to the Word.

时间是变化的财富,

然而时钟拙劣地模仿它,只有变化,而没有财富。

Time is the wealth of change,

but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth.

“真理”穿上衣裳,发现“事实”太过矜持,

在想象中,她行动自如。

Truth in her dress finds facts too tight.

In fiction she moves with ease.

当我四处旅行时,

路啊,我厌倦了你;

可现在,当你带着我去各处时,

我就爱上了你,与你结婚了。

When I travelled to here and to there,

I was tired of thee, O road,

but now when thou lead me to everywhere,

I am wedded to thee in love.

让我设想一下,繁星中有一个颗星,

引导我的生命去穿越那未知的黒暗。

Let me think that there is one among those stars that guides my life through the dark unknown.

女人,你用你优雅的手指,触摸我的器物,

于是秩序便如音乐似的倾泻出来。

Woman, with the grace of your fingers you touched my things and order came out like music.