First, "Golden Flower"
If I become a golden flower, for fun, I will grow on a tall branch, swing in the air with a smile and dance on new leaves. Mom, will you know me?
If you yell, "Where are you, son?" I snickered there, but didn't say a word.
I will quietly open my petals and watch you work.
When you take a shower, put your wet hair on your shoulders, walk through the shade of golden flowers and walk to the yard where you pray, you will smell the flowers, but you don't know that the fragrance comes from me.
When you sit at the window and read Ramayana after lunch, the shadow of that tree falls on your hair and knees, and I will cast my little shadow on your page, where you are reading.
But can you guess that this is a small shadow of your child?
When you go to the cowshed with a lamp at dusk, I will suddenly fall to the ground again and become your child again. Please tell me a story.
"Where have you been, you bad boy?"
"I won't tell you, mom." That's what you and I were trying to say.
Second, "Life is like summer flowers"
Let life be as beautiful as summer flowers.
Life is frivolous again and again.
Frivolous and tireless
-inscription
1
I hear echoes, from the valley and the heart,
Harvesting an empty soul with a lonely sickle,
Repeated rejections and happiness,
There are swaying oases in the desert,
I believe in myself,
Born like a brilliant summer flower,
Fearless, as charming as fire,
Bear the burden of heartbeat and breathing,
Never tired,
2
I hear music, from moonlight and body,
The auxiliary pole bait captures the ethereal beauty,
Life is full of intense and naive,
There are always memories throughout the world,
I believe in myself,
Death is like a beautiful autumn leaf,
Not full, not chaotic, gestures like smoke,
Even if it withers, it will retain the pride of plump muscles and clear bones.
Mysterious and mysterious,
three
I hear love, I believe in love,
Love is a struggling blue-green algae,
Like a sad wind,
Through my bleeding veins,
Belief in the garrison years,
four
I believe everything can be heard,
Even foresee separation, meet another self,
Some moments are impossible to grasp,
No matter east or west, what is lost will never come back.
Look at the hairpin flowers on my head, blooming all the way.
I often miss some and am deeply moved by wind, frost, rain and snow.
five
Prajna paramita, with sound,
Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.
And care about what you have.
Third, the "paper boat"
I put the paper boats one by one in the swift stream every day.
I wrote my name and the name of the village where I lived in big black letters on the paper boat.
I hope people living in different places can get this paper boat and know who I am.
I put the beautiful flowers growing in the garden on my boat.
I hope these dawn flowers can be safely brought to the shore at night.
I threw the paper boat into the water and looked up at the sky.
I saw a small cloud covered with white sails of the wind.
I wonder what my playmates are in the sky. Put these boats down and race with me!
When night came, my face was buried in my arm,
I dreamed that my boat was floating slowly under the midnight starlight.
The sleeping fairy sat on the boat with a basket full of dreams.
Fourth, farewell.
I should go, mom; I'm leaving.
When you stretch out your arms to hug the child sleeping in bed in the dark at the silent dawn, I will say, "The child is not there!" " "-mom, I have to go.
I want to become a breeze to touch you; I want to be a ripple in the water. When you bathe, I kiss you again and again.
On a windy night, when raindrops pattering on the leaves, you will hear me whisper in bed: when lightning flashes into your room from the open window, my laughter flashes with him.
If you can't sleep all night and miss your children until late at night, I will sing to you in the starry sky: "Sleep!" " Mom, go to sleep. "
I will sit in the wandering moonlight, sneak into your bed and lie on your chest while you are sleeping.
I want to become a dream, from the tiny cracks in your eyelids to the depths of your sleep. When you wake up and look around in surprise, I fly away like a shining firefly in the dark.
When Mother's Day (Mother's Day in October in India) approaches, when the children next door come to play at home, I will melt into the flute and the price will fluctuate in your heart all day.
My dear aunt brought a gift to her mother, and asked, "Where are our children, sister?" Mom, you will tell her gently: "He, he is now in my pupil, he is now in my body, in my soul."
Verb (short for verb) sympathy
If I were just a puppy, not your child,
Dear mom, when I want to eat something on your plate, will you say "no" to me?
Are you going to kick me out and say, "Go away, you naughty dog"?
Then, go, mom, go!
When you call me, I will never come to you again and never let you feed me again.
If I were just a little green parrot instead of your child,
Dear mother, do you want to lock me tightly so as not to fly away?
You have to shake my hand and say, "What an ungrateful bitch! Biting its chain all night "
Then, go, mom, go!
I'm going to run into the Woods; I will never let you hold me in your arms again.
Baidu encyclopedia-Tagore's prose poems