园丁集 泰戈尔著 冰 心译
Title: The Gardener Author: Rabindranath Tagore


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    41
    
    I long to speak the deepest words I have to say to you; but I dare not, for fear you should laugh.
    That is why I laugh at myself and shatter my secret in jest.
    I make light of my pain, afraid you should do so.
    I long to tell you the truest words I have to say to you; but I dare not, being afraid that you would not believe them.
    That is why I disguise them in untruth, saying the contrary of what I mean.
    I make my pain appear absurd, afraid that you should do so.
    I long to use the most precious words I have for you; but I dare not, fearing I should not be paid with like value.
    That is why I gave you hard names and boast of my callous strength.
    I hurt you, for fear you should never know any pain.
    I long to sit silent by you; but I dare not lest my heart come out at my lips.
    That is why I prattle and chatter lightly and hide my heart behind words.
    I rudely handle my pain, for fear you should do so.
    I long to go away from your side; but I dare not, for fear my cowardice should become known to you.
    That is why I hold my head high and carelessly come into your presence.
    Constant thrusts from your eyes keep my pain fresh for ever.
    

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