Thursday, January 17, 2008

泰戈爾詩選

Rabindranath Tagore(1861–1941)

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You idol is shattered in the dust to prove that God's dust is greater than your idol.

           My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening.


Take my wine in my own cup, friend.
It loses its wreath of foam when poured into that of others.

         
Tiny grass, your steps are small, but you possess the earth under your tread.

    
God grows weary of great kingdoms, but never of little flowers.

  
What is this unseen flame of darkness whose sparks are the stars?

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Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.


I cast my own shadow upon my path, because I have a lamp that has not been lighted.


My evening came among the alien trees and spoke in a language which my morning stars did not know.


God waits for man to regain his childhood in wisdom.


Man's history is waiting in patience for the triumph of the insulted man.


Release me from my unfulfilled past clinging to me from behind making death difficult.

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