园丁集 泰戈尔著 冰 心译
Title: The Gardener Author: Rabindranath Tagore 英文 中文 双语对照 双语交替 首页 目录 上一章 下一章 | |
46
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You left me and went on your way.
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I thought I should mourn for you and set your solitary image in my heart wrought in a golden song.
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But ah, my evil fortune, time is short.
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Youth wanes year after year; the spring days are fugitive; the frail flowers die for nothing, and the wise man warns me that life is but a dew-drop on the lotus leaf.
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Should I neglect all this to gaze after one who has turned her back on me?
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That would be rude and foolish, for time is short.
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Then, come, my rainy nights with pattering feet; smile, my golden autumn; come, careless April, scattering your kisses abroad.
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You come, and you, and you also!
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My loves, you know we are mortals. Is it wise to break one's heart for the one who takes her heart away? For time is short.
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It is sweet to sit in a corner to muse and write in rhymes that you are all my world.
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It is heroic to hug one's sorrow and determine not to be consoled.
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But a fresh face peeps across my door and raises its eyes to my eyes.
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I cannot but wipe away my tears and change the tune of my song.
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For time is short.
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