泰戈尔一生笔耕不辍,爱的数量尤多,其爱情诗内容广泛,种类繁多,吸引了世界上的不少读者。

　　泰戈尔情《恋人的馈赠》中英对照

　　1. YOU ALLOWED your kingly power to vanish, Shajahan, but your wish was to make imperishable a tear-drop of love.

　　Time has no pity for the human heart, he laughs at its sad struggle to remember.

　　You allured him with beauty, made him captive, and crowned the formless death with fadeless form.

　　The secret whispered in the hush of night to the ear of your love is wrought in the perpetual silence of stone.

　　Though empires crumble to dust, and centuries are lost in shadows， the marble still sighs to the stars, “I remember.”

　　“I remember." - But life forgets, for she has her call to the Endless and she goes on her voyage unburdened, leaving her memories to the forlorn forms of beauty.

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　　泰戈尔爱情诗集-《恋人的馈赠》

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　　1。你准许你那王者般的威力消失了去，沙加汗，可你那希翼，原是想作一滴永恒的爱的泪滴。

　　时光对人心无怜无惜，他嘲笑它悲哀的挣扎以记住过去。

　　你以美貌吸引了他，使他做了你爱的俘虏，并冠于了无形的死亡以永不消逝的形式。

　　静静夜里，那悄声传入你爱人耳朵的秘密，被精致得永存于石头的沉寂。

　　即便帝国化作尘土，世纪也消失于阴影，大理石却向星星叹息曰，“我记得呢。”

　　“我记得。”-可生活会忘却，只因她被永恒召唤，并轻松的做起她的行旅，仅将她的记忆留于了美丽的孤寂形式。

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　　(* 这个说的是印度国王纪悼王后的。)

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　　2。COME TO MY garden walk, my love. Pass by the fervid flowers that press themselves on your sight. Pass them by, stopping at some chance joy, that like a sudden wonder of sunset illumines, yet eludes.

　　For love''s gift is shy, it never tells its name, it flits across the shade, spreading a shiver of joy along the dust. Overtake it or miss it for ever. But a gift that can be grasped is merely a frail flower, or a lamp with a flame that will flicker.

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　　来我的花园足径走走啊，我的爱。经由我那些热情奔放的花朵呀，他们相拥着贴近你的眼前。经由他们呀，若可能心欢喜时就驻步慢慢看，那欢喜啊，犹若夕阳突然变换的奇幻，却又转眼即消散。

　　给爱的馈赠是害羞呢，它从来不说自己的名姓，却轻盈盈的掠过自己的阴影，沿着尘埃传开令人激颤的欣喜。超越它，抑或会永远错过它。可一个能得到的礼物，仅仅是朵娇弱的花朵，抑或是一盏火光闪烁的油灯呢。

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　　3。THE FRUITS COME in crowds into my orchard, they jostle each other. They surge up in the light in an anguish of fullness.

　　Proudly step into my orchard, my queen, sit there in the shade, pluck the ripe fruits from their stems, and let them yield, to the utmost, their burden of sweetness at your lips.

　　In my orchard the butterflies shake their wings in the sun, the leaves tremble, the fruits clamour to come to completion.

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　　我的果园里，鲜美的果实蜂拥而至，他们互相挤挤撞撞的。阳光下，他们怒冲冲地丰盈着体态，波涛般汹涌而此起彼伏。

　　骄傲地来到我的花园啊， 我的王后，坐在那树荫里，摘下那些已然成熟的果子呀，让它们咿呀惊叫，不管它们如何叫得响亮，它们的重担--那甜蜜，只是为了你的柔唇而生的哦。

　　我的花园里，阳光下，蝴蝶呼扇着蝶衣，树叶儿微微颤，果子喧哗着将变得丰美圆满。

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　　4。SHE IS NEAR TO my heart as the meadow-flower to the earth; she is sweet to me as sleep is to tired limbs. My love for her is my life flowing in its fullness, like a river in autumn flood, running with serene abandonment.

　　My songs are one with my love, like the murmur of a stream, that sings with all its waves and currents.

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　　她如此贴近我心，犹如湿漉漉草坪上的花朵贴近大地;她对我而言如此甜蜜，犹如睡眠之于疲倦的四肢;我对她的爱，是我的生命流淌最丰美之时，犹如一条河水在秋日的泛滥，奔淌着静静的狂流。

　　我的歌充满着我的爱，若夏日的小溪低声悄语，以它的波和浪卷起欢歌。

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　　5。I WOULD ASK for still more, if I had the sky with all its stars, and the world with its endless riches; but I would be content with the smallest corner of this earth if only she were mine.

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　　我依然会要求很多，若我拥有整个天空及其繁星，若我拥有这世界的无穷的金银;可若她是我的，我哪怕在这世界只拥有一个小小角落，也因此心满意足了。

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　　--待续--

　　(* 特别喜欢诗圣泰戈尔深沉、细腻、充满哲思和宗教色彩、想像丰富的古典派诗，所以就翻译了一些;有人说他写的太简单，偶要说-那是因为你根本没有看懂。他的诗歌意思有很多层次，偶总是琢磨不透，所以薄薄的两个诗集翻来翻去快看烂了，赫赫。他写的很多集子是给他暗恋的一个嫂子，因为他俩是青梅竹马的知音，因为她过早去世，所以他总对她怀念不尽，你细细品味就会知道哪些部分其实是写给她的哦。)

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　　Rabindranath Tagore‘s Verses -- Lover''s Gift

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　　泰戈尔爱情诗集-《恋人的馈赠》

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　　6.IN THE LIGHT of this thriftless day of spring, my poet, sing of those who pass by and do not linger, who laugh as they run and never look back, who blossom in an hour of unreasoning delight, and fade in a moment without regret.

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　　Do not sit down silently, to tell the beads of your past tears and smiles, - do not stop to pick up the dropped petals from the flowers of overnight, do not go to seek things that evade you, to know the meaning that is not plain, - leave the gaps in your life where they are, for the music to come out of their depths.

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　　在这春天可奢侈去的阳光里，我的诗人，歌唱那些路过却不会踯躅不去的人们吧，歌唱那些边跑边笑一去不返的人们吧，歌唱那些莫名却轻松而绽了一小时的花卉吧，它们旋开即落却毫不后悔呢。

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　　不要默默的坐下，说说你以往珠子般的泪儿以及微笑呀;--不要停下捡起隔夜而落的瓣瓣落花;不要去寻觅躲着你的东西，也不要去了解那不同寻常的深意;--倘若你人生有缺，随它去吧，音乐，会在那深深处飘荡而出。

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　　7.IT IS LITTLE that remains now, the rest was spent in one careless summer. It is just enough to put in a song and sing to you; to weave in a flower- chain gently clasping your wrist; to hang in your ear like a round pink pearl, like a blushing whisper; to risk in a game one evening and utterly lose.

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　　My boat is a frail small thing, not fit for crossing wild waves in the rain. If you but lightly step on it I shall gently row you by the shelter of the shore, where the dark water in ripples are like a dream-ruffled sleep; where the dove''s cooing from the drooping branches makes the noon- day shadows plaintive. At the day''s end, when you are tired, I shall pluck a dripping lily to put in your hair and take my leave.

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　　现在我已所剩无几，其它的早就消磨在漫不经心的夏季，仅存的这些，足以做首歌儿歌唱给你，或者编进花儿里，再将花儿串起，你戴着会轻敲你的手腕儿呢;或者挂在你的耳朵上，如一颗粉色圆润的珍珠，又如一句害羞的呢喃耳语;或者某个夜晚冒险玩游戏，然后全部输了去。

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　　我的船儿是那般的弱小呢，不适于在大雨里渡过狂风巨浪的。若你只轻轻步入这船儿，我会沿岸边的树荫悠悠地划桨，那儿沉沉暗水泛起涟漪，尤若酣睡被梦翻起;那儿低垂的树枝里，树鸽咕咕的叫鸣，使那中午的影子充满忧悒。 当白昼过尽，当你疲倦之时，我会摘一朵滴水的百合，插入你的发际，然后就离去。

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　　8.THERE IS ROOM for you. You are alone with your few sheaves of rice. My boat is crowded, it is heavily laden, but how can I turn you away? your young body is slim and swaying; there is a twinkling smile in the edge of your eyes, and your robe is coloured like the rain-cloud.

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　　The travellers will land for different roads and homes. You will sit for a while on the prow of my boat, and at the journey''s end none will keep you back.

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　　Where do you go, and to what home, to garner your sheaves? I will not question you, but when I fold my sails and moor my boat, I shall sit and wonder in the evening, - Where do you go, and to what home, to garner your sheaves?

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　　还有些为你而留的余地。你只身带着几束稻子。我的船儿拥拥挤挤，装载沉沉，可我又怎能将你所拒?你年轻的身子那般纤细，摇晃不定;你的眼角微笑闪闪，你的袍色雨云一般。

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　　乘客靠岸后路途各异、归家各异。你会在我的船头稍坐歇息，可船到了目的地，无人会阻拦你的离去。

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　　为储存那些稻子，你会去往哪里，会走向哪个屋子?我不会询问你的，可当我收起我的帆、停泊了我的船，我会坐在夜里痴痴而疑-只为储存那些稻子，你去了哪里，走向了哪个屋子?

　　Rabindranath Tagore‘s Verses -- Lover''s Gift

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　　泰戈尔爱情诗集-《恋人的馈赠》

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　　9.WOMAN, YOUR basket is heavy, your limbs are tired. For what distance have you set out, with what hunger of profit? The way is long and the dust is hot in the sun.

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　　See, the lake is deep and full, its water dark like a crow''s eye. The banks are sloping and tender with grass.

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　　Dip your tired feet into the water. The noon-tide wind will pass its fingers through your hair; the pigeons will croon their sleep songs, the leaves will murmur the secrets that nestle in the shadows.

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　　What matters it if the hours pass and the sun sets; if the way through the desolate land be lost in the waning light.