一直很喜欢泰戈尔的《飞鸟集》,初读这些小诗,如同在暴风雨过后的初夏清晨,推开卧室的窗户,看到一个淡泊清透的世界,一切都是那样的清新、亮丽,可是其中的韵味却很厚实,耐人寻味。 《飞鸟集》创作于1913年,是泰戈尔的代表作之一,也是世界上最杰出的诗集之一。《飞鸟集》英文本题名为Stray Birds。其中”stray”为漂泊的意思,”birds”是鸟,有时还可指人。这部思绪点点的散文诗集,包括300余首清丽的小诗。诗人把这些小诗收在一起并题为《飞鸟集》,意在用这些描叙南来北往的漂泊者的长途跋涉的诗句,把自己比作寻求理想境界的“永恒的旅客”,记录自己的行程。。因此,在一两行的诗句中,往往捕捉一个自然景物,叙说一个素理,犹如空中的闪电,海波的泛光,夕阳的余辉,黎明的暗影,给人一种鲜明的印象,蕴藏一种深奥的哲理,从而给人们以多方面的人生启示,引领世人探寻真理和智慧的源泉。 今天Spiiker-Beautiful Mind 带给大家《Stray Birds 飞鸟集》片段,一起来听听看吧~ 是大地的泪点,使她的微笑保持着青春不谢。 无垠的沙漠热烈追求一叶绿草的爱,她摇摇头笑着飞开了。 如果你因失去了太阳而流泪,那么你也将失去群星了。 跳舞着的流水呀,在你途中的泥沙,要求你的歌声,你的流动呢。你肯挟 她的热切的脸,如夜雨似的,搅扰着我的梦魂。 有一次,我们梦见大家都是不相识的。 忧思在我的心里平静下去,正如暮色降临在寂静的山林中。 有些看不见的手,如懒懒的微(风思)的,正在我的心上奏着 “海水呀,你说的是什么?” 静静地听,我的心呀,听那世界的低语,这是它对你求爱的表示呀。 创造的神秘,有如夜间的黑暗--是伟大的。而知识的幻影却不过如晨间 不要因为峭壁是高的,便让你的爱情坐在峭壁上。 我今晨坐在窗前,世界如一个路人似的,停留了一会,向我点点头又走过 这些微(风思),是树叶的簌簌之声呀;它们在我的心里欢悦地微语着。 你看不见你自己,你所看见的只是你的影子。 神呀,我的那些愿望真是愚傻呀,它们杂在你的歌声中喧叫着呢。 我不能选择那最好的。 那些把灯背在背上的人,把他们的影子投到了自己前面。 我的存在,对我是一个永久的神奇,这就是生活。 “我们萧萧的树叶都有声响回答那风和雨。你是谁呢,那样的沉默着?” 休息与工作的关系,正如眼睑与眼睛的关系。 人是一个初生的孩子,他的力量,就是生长的力量。 神希望我们酬答他,在于他送给我们的花朵,而不在于太阳和土地。 光明如一个裸体的孩子,快快活活地在绿叶当中游戏,它不知道人是会欺 See more information, you can visit us
It is the tears of the earth that keep here smiles in bloom.
The mighty desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who
shakes her head and laughs and flies away.
If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.
瘸足的泥沙而俱下么?
The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing
water. Will you carry the burden of their lameness?
Her wishful face haunts my dreams like the rain at night.
我们醒了,却知道我们原是相亲相爱的。
Once we dreamt that we were strangers.
We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.
Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening among
the silent trees.
潺(氵爰)的乐声。
Some unseen fingers, like an idle breeze, are playing upon my heart
the music of the ripples.
“是永恒的疑问。”
“天空呀,你回答的话是什么?”
“是永恒的沉默。”
" What language is thine, O sea? "
"The language of eternal question."
"What language is thy answer, O sky?"
"The language of eternal silence."
Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes
love to you.
之雾。
The mystery of creation is like the darkness of night--it is great.
Delusions of knowledge are like the fog of the morning.
Do not seat your love upon a precipice because it is high.
去了。
I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops
for a moment, nods to me and goes.
There little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their
whisper of joy in my mind.
What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow.
让我只是静听着吧。
My wishes are fools, they shout across thy song, my Master.
Let me but listen.
是那最好的选择我。
I cannot choose the best.
The best chooses me.
They throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on
their back.
That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.
“我不过是一朵花。”
"We, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms,
but who are you so silent?"
"I am a mere flower."
Rest belongs to the work as the eyelids to the eyes.
Man is a born child, his power is the power of growth.
God expects answers for the flowers he sends us, not for the sun
the earth.
诈的。
The light that plays, like a naked child, among the green leaves
happily knows not that man can lie.