泰戈尔情诗歌中英对照夏央
泰戈尔情诗歌中英对照
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And alas, youth is inexperienced and wilful, therefore it is but meet, that the old should take charge of the houhold, and the young take to the clusion of forest shades, and the vere discipline of courting.
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书上明注，那人到了五十岁，就该离开喧闹处，到隔绝人迹的地方去住。而诗人要正式宣布- 年青人才该去森林隐居。因为那儿是鲜花诞生之处，还有鸟儿和蜜蜂的飞绕;隐秘的角落等在那为恋人们的悄悄话而激动呢。那儿的月色，是使君子花的仅得一吻，却藏有一个深层含义，可那些懂得它的却还远远不到五十岁呢。利润分成
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可叹哦，年轻是缺乏经验而固执的，所以作为需要，年长者会控制家事，而年轻的，则需要去森林的阴暗处隐居，还有对男女求爱的要有严格规定。
.出则悌全文
Rabindranath Tagore‘s Vers -- Lover''s Gift
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泰戈尔爱情诗集-《恋人的馈赠》
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20. WHERE IS THE market for you, my song? Is it there where the learned muddle the summer breeze with their snuff ; where dispute is unending if the oil depend upon the cask, or the cask upon the oil; where yellow manuscripts frown upon the fleet-footed frivolousness of life? My song cries out. Ah, no, no, no.
Where is the market for you, my song? Is it there where the man of fortune grows enormo
us in pride and flesh in his marble palace, with his books on the shelves, dresd in leather, painted in gold, dusted by slaves, their virgin pages dedicated to the god obscure? My song gasped and said, Ah, no, no, no.
Where is the market for you, my song? Is it there where the young student sits, with his head bent upon his books, and his mind straying in youth''s dream-land; where pro is prowling on the desk, and poetry hiding in the heart? There among that dusty disorder would you care to play hide-and-ek? My song remains silent in shy hesitation.
Where is the market for you, my song? Is it there where the bride is busy in the hou, where she runs to her bedroom the moment she is free, and snatches, from under her pillows, the book of romance so roughly handled by the baby, so full of the scent of her hair? My song heaves a sigh and trembles with uncertain desire.餐饮标语
Where is the market for you, my song? Is it there where the least of a bird''s notes is never misd, where the stream''s babbling finds its full wisdom where all the lute-strings of the world shower their music upon two fluttering hearts? My song bursts out and cries,
Yes, yes.
我的歌儿啊，你的市场在哪里?是在那儿么，那学者将夏风和鼻烟相混合之处?抑或，在人们无休止的争议“是油和油桶谁更需要依赖谁”之处?又或者，是在发黄稿纸因人生船儿的漂泊般轻浮不定的而不悦的地方?我的歌儿哭喊到-哦，不， 不，不。
我的歌儿啊，你的听众在那里?那富人的书仅仅在书架上堆积如山，那些包着皮质的书皮，涂着金色，奴仆为它们拂去尘灰，那些处女般圣洁的篇章只是为神明的糊涂而著，在他因无限骄傲而用大理石来炫耀其财富的宫殿里么? 我的歌儿气喘吁吁的说，哦，不，不，不。
我的歌儿啊，你的听众在哪里?那学生坐在那里，头低垂到他的书上，心思却偏离在年青人的梦境，散文在他桌上徘徊，而诗歌却躲藏在他的心里，在他那里么? 在那杂乱无章纷繁的红尘里，你愿意玩那藏匿寻找躲猫猫的游戏么?我的歌儿在害羞的犹豫里沉默不语。
你的听众在哪里啊，我的歌儿?那新娘在屋子里忙碌，一旦得闲她就匆忙跑到她的卧室，从她的枕头下面，快快抽出，浪漫之书被她的孩子粗糙地对待，并充满着她头发的气息，是在那儿么?我的歌儿感叹一声，在不肯定的欲望里颤栗。
炒菜用什么锅最好
你的听众在哪里啊，我的歌儿?鸟儿的只言片语从不被人错过;溪水的咕噜声总能找到所有的智慧，这智慧是世上所有琵琶之音，以阵雨般洒向两颗烦恼不安的心，在那里么?我的歌儿爆发了出来并大声叫喊，是的，是的。
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(*哦，偶喜欢这组，开始严肃，后来浪漫，最后又是那么的幽默。但同时也感觉到一种沉重，泰戈尔的时代，其实资本主义已经来临，而人们已经在丢弃诗歌等文化，他所以才会如此感叹出这些来，其实，诗歌真的只是为了爱情而写么?显然不是，所以这结尾就显得无奈而匆匆，其实，估计连他自己也并不满意，这可以从他前面几段的不耐烦的讥讽里看出他的憎恨和无奈和哀叹。如今偶看来，实在实在，感觉太深刻了，如此深刻，以至于已经不再留恋这样的人世，这样没有灵魂，只有野兽和动物的人世!ok，偶已经再世好些次，但也已经向神明要求不再回来这黑暗而没有光明前途的人世!we r all doomed !)
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乘机的近义词购物卷.
Rabindranath Tagore‘s Vers -- Lover''s Gift
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泰戈尔爱情诗集-《恋人的馈赠》
21.(From the Bengali of Devendranath Sen)
METHINKS, MY love, before the daybreak of life you stood under some waterfall of happy dreams, filling your blood with its liquid turbulence. Or, perhaps, your path was through the garden of the gods, where the merry multitude of jasmine, lilies, and oleanders fell in your arms in heaps, and entering your heart became boisterous.
Your laughter is a song who words are drowned in the clamour of tune, a rapture of odour of flowers that are not en; it is like the moonlight breaking through your lips'' window when the moon is hiding in your heart. I ask for no reason, I forget the cau, I only know that your laughter is the tumult of insurgent life.
(诗人萨特扬德拉纳特?森所作)
我以为，我的爱，生命的黎明破晓前，你曾站在快乐美梦的飞瀑边，将它的澎湃之水填满你的血液。或者，也许，你所做的是走向神明们的花园，那里簇拥着欢欣的茉莉花，百合花以及夹竹桃花，许许多多争相飘落到你的双臂间，进入你心却变成喧闹不安。
你的欢笑，是一首歌呢，歌词却被喧嚣的声音湮没了， 那是百花无形芳菲的万分欣喜;恰若月色穿越过你的柔唇之窗，当那月儿藏在你的心窝窝里。我不寻求什么道理，我也忘却了为何如此，我只知道你的笑声是不俗人生里的小小骚动。
Rabindranath Tagore‘s Vers -- Lover''s Gift
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泰戈尔爱情诗集-《恋人的馈赠》
22. I SHALL GLADLY suffer the pride of culture to die out in my hou, if only in some for-tunate future I am born a herd boy in the Brinda forest.
The herd boy who grazes his cattle sitting under the banyan tree, and idly weaves gunja flowers into garlands, who loves to splash and plunge in the Jamuna''s cool deep stream.
He calls his companions to wake up when morning dawns, and all the hous in the lane hum with the sound of the churn, clouds of dust are raid by the cattle, the maid-ens come out in the courtyard to milk the kine.
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