The most is the gentleness of bowing,
Like a hibiscus out of water
The shyness of the cool breeze,
Take care, take care,
There is sweet sadness in the treasure-
Shian, Nora.
(Written during Tagore's visit to Japan in May 1924. This is the last poem of "Eighteen Poems of Annala".
The first is shian Nala, the transliteration of "Goodbye" in Japanese. )
2. Thank God! My heart is beating again.
Thank god! My heart is beating again,
The sky is blue, the sea is blue and the sun is shining
Remove the unpleasant traces during the rainy season,
And let go of the traps and knots in my heart,
Like the dew of Datura flower Ying Ying,
Forget the confusion in ethereal and freedom:—
Confused, confused! I don't know where it came from,
Imprisoning the natural outpouring of my heart,
Terrible nightmares, endless darkness,
The desire for awakening will only increase the numbness of the soul!
How many days, nights, mornings,
Laugh at my cocoon's enterprising existence?
I don't know how many times there have been bright moons, stars and clear skies,
The sound of mountains and the brilliance of running water ...
Live up to it! Live up to the call of nature,
Don't wake up, this drunken coma and stubbornness!
Now, due to this unknown and extensive talent,
Wandering between the blue waves and the green islands,
What's more, fishing boats are obsessed with shadows and pavilions in the air.
On the horizon, arouse distant dreams and dreams;
I can't help being horrified and ashamed.
Sometimes the charm of a smile is a mallet of enlightenment! )
What suddenly god liberated me?
Sorrow, like hsinchu, has cracked its sheath,
Show the green gauze wrapped inside and wash it for me.
Blindness, seeing the joy of the universe again.
This may be a sign that my life will be updated;
The spirit of nature! Accommodate my prayers,
Allow me to gaze firmly, allow
My enthusiastic dedication, allow me to keep it.
This shows magic, which is now and here,
This unparalleled destruction of all intervals!
I don't even ask my hopes, my melancholy,
The future and the past are just vague illusions,
Not to visit the world and enter the door of happiness,
Give me an immortal mark every time,-
Into dust, invisible dust,
Follow the wheel of nature, go on, go on, ...
3. Looking for stars
I rode a lame blind horse,
Whip the night;
Disappeared in the night,
I rode on a lame blind horse,
I rushed into the dark night,
To find a star;
In order to find a star,
I rushed into this dark wilderness.
I'm exhausted,
Tired of the animals under my feet,
The star has not appeared yet;
The stars have not yet appeared,
I'm exhausted,
Tired of saddles.
This time a crystal lamp appeared in the sky.
An animal fell in the wilderness,
There is a body lying in the dark.
This time there was a crystal light in the sky.
4. Snow in Spring (in memory of March 8th)
It snows heavily in the south during the New Year.
I went to Lingfeng to find out about Chunmei.
The remaining plum calyx petals are pickled in the snow,
I smiled and said that this color is still three points brighter!
Fate says: You should return to Beijing before the Flower Festival.
I have prepared a very bright spring scene for you:
White or cold snow,
But plum blossom is the blood of a thirteen-year-old child!
(April 1926, 1, Xu Zhimo was appointed as the editor-in-chief of the morning newspaper supplement, and this poem was published in the morning newspaper supplement that day. On March 1926, Duan shot and killed the petitioners, killing more than 200 people and even a 13-year-old child. )
5. In front of Axa Church
This is my own image, tonight.
Reflected in the forecourt of foreign education,
The cold and steep hall,
A vague figure.
I asked the statue in front of the temple:
"Who is in charge of this bizarre life?"
The old statue stared at me blankly,
As if blaming this strange question.
I turned to the cold and gloomy star again,
It rises behind this church,
But it answered me with a mocking charm,
Across from the starlight, I am with my mystery!
At this time, the old tree beside me,
He covered up the innocence under the war memorial,
Faint with a sigh, like
The bleak autumn rain falls in the desolate and empty yard.
He has at least one hundred years of experience,
He has seen all the changes in the world;
He also counted the practical jokes of life;
Aggressive in spring and summer, mother-in-law in winter.
He knows the oldest elder in this town,
Look at their baptized, yellow-haired babies;
Look at their spouses, in this Sect,—
Finally, look at their names on the tombstone!
He is tired of watching this semi-tragic comedy,
My carbuncle is even more reluctant;
So he and I became one and sighed-
Ah! My figure is covered with fallen leaves!
(Exeter, English city). )