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 | |
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Why do you whisper so faintly in my ears, O Death, my Death?
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When the flowers droop in the evening and cattle come back to their stalls, you stealthily come to my side and speak words that I do not understand.
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Is this how you must woo and win me with the opiate of drowsy murmur and cold kisses, O Death, my Death?
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Will there be no proud ceremony for our wedding?
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Will you not tie up with a wreath your tawny coiled locks?
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Is there none to carry your banner before you, and will not the night be on fire with your red torch-lights, O Death, my Death?
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Come with your conch-shells sounding, come in the sleepless night.
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Dress me with a crimson mantle, grasp my hand and take me.
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Let your chariot be ready at my door with your horses neighing impatiently.
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Raise my veil and look at my face proudly, O Death, my Death!
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