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


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    57
    
    I plucked your flower, O world! I pressed it to my heart and the thorn pricked.
    When the day waned and it darkened, I found that the flower had faded, but the pain remained.
    More flowers will come to you with perfume and pride, O world! But my time for flower-gathering is over, and through the dark night I have not my rose, only the pain remains.
    

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