园丁集 第十二章（3）（2/2）
《园丁集》作者：（印度）泰戈尔（Tagore，… 2017-04-14 03:38
t I pursue the vision that eludes me.
I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands, because I am hunting for the golden stag.
You come and buy in the market and go back to your homes laden with goods, but the spell of the homeless winds has touched me I know not when and where.
I have no care in my heart; all my belongings I have left far behind me.
I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands—because I am hunting for the golden stag.
The Gardener 70
I remember a day in my childhood I floated a paper boat in the ditch.
It was a wet day of July; I was alone and happy over my play.
I floated my paper boat in the ditch.
Suddenly the storm clouds thickened, winds came in gusts, and rain poured in torrents.
Rills of muddy water rushed and swelled the stream and sunk my boat.
Bitterly I thought in my mind that the storm came on purpose to spoil my happiness; all its malice was against me.
The cloudy day of July is long today, and I have been musing over all those games in life wherein I was loser.
I was bl***ng my fate for the many tricks it played on me, when suddenly I remembered the paper boat that sank in the ditch.
The Gardener 71
The day is not yet done, the fair is not over, the fair on the river-bank.
I had feared that my time had been squandered and my last penny lost.
But no, my brother, I have still something left. My fate has not cheated me of everything.
The selling and buying are over.
I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands, because I am hunting for the golden stag.
You come and buy in the market and go back to your homes laden with goods, but the spell of the homeless winds has touched me I know not when and where.
I have no care in my heart; all my belongings I have left far behind me.
I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands—because I am hunting for the golden stag.
The Gardener 70
I remember a day in my childhood I floated a paper boat in the ditch.
It was a wet day of July; I was alone and happy over my play.
I floated my paper boat in the ditch.
Suddenly the storm clouds thickened, winds came in gusts, and rain poured in torrents.
Rills of muddy water rushed and swelled the stream and sunk my boat.
Bitterly I thought in my mind that the storm came on purpose to spoil my happiness; all its malice was against me.
The cloudy day of July is long today, and I have been musing over all those games in life wherein I was loser.
I was bl***ng my fate for the many tricks it played on me, when suddenly I remembered the paper boat that sank in the ditch.
The Gardener 71
The day is not yet done, the fair is not over, the fair on the river-bank.
I had feared that my time had been squandered and my last penny lost.
But no, my brother, I have still something left. My fate has not cheated me of everything.
The selling and buying are over.