You have sublimated my life, which is your joy. This fragile cup, you keep emptying it and filling it with new life.
A small reed flute, you carry it over mountains and mountains, and blow out music that will never repeat from the flute tube.
With the immortal touch of your hands, my little heart melts into boundless happiness and makes a tone that is difficult to express in words.
Your infinite gift is so paranoid that it pours into my little hand. Time has passed and you are still pouring. There is always room in my hand to fill it.
two
My heart seemed to burst with pride when you ordered me to sing. I looked up at your face and tears welled up in my eyes.
All the confusion and anxiety in my life have melted into a sweet and gentle harmony-my praise is like a happy bird flapping its wings across the ocean.
I know you like my singing. I know that only because I am a singer can I come to your side.
I spread the wings of my song and touched your feet, which I never dared to touch.
I was so dizzy with singing that I got carried away. You are my master, but I call you a friend.
Twenty-nine
The man imprisoned by my name is crying in prison. I build walls every day. When this wall was built as high as the sky, my true self was buried in the shadow of the high wall.
I am proud of this high wall. I daub it with sand for fear that there is still a gap in my name: I have exhausted my mind, but my true self has disappeared from my sight.
thirty
I will go to the appointment alone. Who followed me in the dark?
I tried to escape, but I couldn't escape.
He strode past, making the ground dusty; Every word that comes out of my mouth is mixed with his call.
He is my self, my Lord, and he has no sense of shame; But I'm embarrassed to go to your house with him.
Fifty-six
Because your happiness fills my heart, because you have always been accommodating to me. Oh, your God, who would you love if I didn't exist?
You begged me to share this wealth with you. Your happiness has been flying in my heart. In my short life, your will will shine forever.
So, you, the king of kings, carved it carefully to win my heart. So your love exerts a subtle influence on your lover's love. There, you appeared as our completely unified image.
sixty
Children play together on the seashore of the vast world. Overhead is an infinitely still sky, and restless waves are rushing and noisy. On the seashore of the world, children meet happily.
They build houses with sand and play shell games. They woven the dead leaves into boats and watched them drift to the sea with a smile. Children are playing games on the seashore of the world.
They can't swim or cast nets. Jewelry seekers dive for pearls, businessmen struggle for their lives, and children collect stones but throw them away. They don't look for pearls at the bottom of the sea or cast nets.
The sea was full of laughter and a pale smile flashed on the shore. Dangerous waves are like a mother rocking a baby's cradle and humming a boring song to her child. The sea is playing with children, and a pale smile shines on the coast.
Children play together on the seashore of the vast world. Storms are cruising in the boundless sky, ships are broken and fragmented in the messy sea, death is spreading wildly, but children are playing. On the seashore of the world, children meet happily and solemnly.
Sixty-seven
You are like the sky, and you are like a bird's nest.
Ah, beautiful you, in the nest, are your love, embracing your soul with color, sound and fragrance.
There, when the morning came, he carried a golden basket in his right hand, which contained beautiful garlands and quietly crowned the earth.
There, dusk came, jumping over the barren bushes where no one was grazing animals, walking through the path where horses and chariots disappeared, and holding the cool wind of peace on the quiet western ocean in her golden bottle.
However, there, pure white light occupied the endless sky soaring for the soul. There is no day or night, no shape or color, and there is nothing to say forever.
Ninety-five
When I first crossed the threshold of life, I didn't notice any difference.
What power makes me open in this boundless darkness, like a flower, blooming in the forest at midnight!
The light made me get up early, and I immediately felt that I was an acquaintance in the world. That incredible and indescribable thing had held me in my arms in the image of my mother.
Similarly, in death, this equally unknown thing appears as a familiar face. I love life, and I know I love death as well.
When the mother took the right breast out of the baby's mouth, he cried one after another, but he immediately got a little comfort from the left breast.
One hundred and three
My Lord, in my folded worship of you, let all my senses appear at your feet and touch the invisible world.
Like a wet and heavy cloud in July, it comes to you with raindrops that haven't fallen yet. In my folded worship of you, let my whole heart bow down at your door.
Let all my poems, accompanied by different tunes, merge into a torrent and pour into the quiet and lonely sea in my folded worship of you.
Like a group of cranes that leave home and come home, they fly to their mountain nests day and night. In my worship of you, let my life, let my life return to its permanent hometown.
(Bing Xin translation)
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In the world of Indian literature, Tagore's poems are dazzling, and his "Chittaglia" is even more amazing all over the world. 19 12, Tagore translated Chittagli, originally written in Bengali, into English prose poems and published them in Britain, which immediately caused a shock in the literary world. Ye Zhi, a poet, expressed his admiration and conviction in the preface of the first English edition of this poem: "Tagore's prose translation of these poems has made my heart surge, and nothing has touched me like this for many years ... these lyric poems. A tradition of combining poetry and religion passed from one century to another, collecting metaphors and emotions from learned people and uneducated people, and bringing the thoughts of scholars and nobles back to the public. " The Swedish poet Werner von Heidenstam once strongly recommended Chittaglia to the Swedish Academy: "I read these poems and was deeply moved. I don't remember whether I have read such beautiful lyrics in twenty years. I really don't know how long I enjoyed them, just like taking a sip of cool and fresh spring water. In the thoughts and feelings of each of them, passion and the purity of love, the clarity of mind, the beauty of style and the naturalness are all integrated, revealing a complete, profound and rare spiritual beauty. His works have no disputes, no sharp things, no hypocrisy, no arrogance or inferiority. If a poet can have this quality at any time, then he is qualified to win the Nobel Prize. He is the poet Tagore. " Tagore 19 13 won the Nobel Prize in Literature.
Chittaglia consists of 65,438+003 poems, which Tagore selected from his own collection of poems, Wa Vidya, Koya and Chittaglia, and his poems scattered in newspapers and magazines since 65,438+0908. This collection of poems was first published in 19 10. It is a masterpiece of Tagore's philosophical poems. The arrangement of poems in Gitanjali is the result of the poet's ingenuity, and there are rules to follow. The structure of poetry collection is like a symphony. The song 1 to 7 is a prelude. The reason why poets write songs is to listen to God's command and sing life with "eternal melody" and "beautiful harmony" so as to realize their desire to be one with God. Songs 8 to 35 are the first movement, and the theme is missing God. Songs 36 to 56 are the second movement, and the theme is meeting God. The 57th to 85th songs are the third movement with the theme of Ode to Joy. Songs 86 to 100 are the fourth movement, and the theme is ode to death. These four movements revolve around the theme of Brahma and Me, showing colorful and ever-changing complex thoughts and feelings. The last three poems are the conclusion, which summarizes the content and significance of the poem.
Gitanjali means to dedicate a poem to Brahma (God) in the poet's heart. In the author's own words, this is dedicated to God who gave him body, light and poetry. Mr. Ji Xianlin once pointed out: "Although Tagore was also influenced by western philosophy, his ideological keynote was pantheism-like thoughts from Rigveda to Upanishads and Vedanta in ancient India. This kind of thinking advocates the unity of all things in the universe, and this kind is called Brahma. Brahma is the unity of the universe and the essence of the world. Man and Brahma are also a unity. " I "is synonymous with Brahma, and Brahma is the highest I". There is no difference between human nature and natural nature. Both of them are part of Brahma, the essence of the world, and they are interdependent and interrelated. "In Chittaglia, God is everywhere, appearing in different forms, which can be met but not sought (this is the image of Brahman in Indian religion). When man realizes "Brahma and I are one" and "appears in the image of our complete unity" (No.56), the poet's heart is full of light and joy. In the kingdom of God, "there is no day and night, no shape and color, and there is nothing to say forever" (67). In the thinking of religious philosophy, the poet understood the true meaning of "finite" and "infinite", "life" and "death". "I love life, and I know I love death" (No.95).
However, Gitanjali is not a religious hymn in the general sense. Between the lines, we see innocent children chasing and laughing at the seaside, Indian girls walking in the fields, skirts fluttering, Indian workers playing flutes in gardens and ferries, whispering to people ... In Gitanjaly, "God" is synonymous with "true self" and "truth" (see the 29th poem). Only by breaking the prison wall of "name" can we return to "true self"; Only by getting rid of the "ego" (see Song 30) can we gain insight into the truth. "True self" is as pure as a child's heart. Only by maintaining this purity can life get rid of the threat of death and gain eternity (see Song 60).
In Chittaglia, there are fresh and colorful natural landscapes, mysterious reflections on another wonderful world, and records the experience of real life and the joys and sorrows of the world. Poets have both the piety and nobility of saints and the affection and love of mortals. All this is not only the expression of the poet's extensive, meticulous, rich and complicated inner world, but also the ultimate beauty of poetry everywhere. I can also deeply understand how much the poet loves his country and those who love peace.
(Shi Weiming)