From Tagore's Birds
I hear echoes, from the valley and the heart.
Harvesting an empty soul with a lonely sickle.
Repeated refusal, repeated happiness.
There are swaying oases in the desert.
I believe in myself.
Born like bright summer flowers.
Never flinch, enchanting as fire.
Bear the burden of heartbeat and breathing.
Enjoy it.
I hear music, from moonlight and body.
Aesthetics of assisting extreme bait to capture ethereal.
Life is full of intense and naive.
There are always memories running through the world.
I believe in myself.
Death is like a beautiful autumn leaf.
Not prosperous, not chaotic, and the posture is like smoke.
Even if it withers, it will retain the pride of plump muscles and clear bones.
Mysterious and mysterious.
I hear love, and I believe in love.
Love is a struggling blue-green algae.
Like a sad wind.
Through my bleeding veins
Faith in the years of stationing.
I believe I can hear everything.
Even foresee separation and meet another self.
And some moments are impossible to grasp.
No matter east or west, what is lost will never come back.
Please look at my hairpin,
Along the way, all the way to blossom.
Often missing something,
Deeply moved by wind, frost, rain and snow.
Prajna paramita, let me know.
Life is like summer flowers and death is like autumn leaves.
And care about what you have.
2. Fireflies
-Excerpt from Tagore's poetry collection "Gitanjali"
Little fireflies, in the Woods, in the dark dusk,
How happily you spread your wings!
You pour your heart into joy.
You are neither the sun nor the moon,
Aren't you less fun?
You ended your life,
You lit your own lamp;
Everything you have is your own,
You owe nobody;
You just obeyed,
Your inner strength.
You broke through the darkness,
You are young, but you are not young,
Because all the light in the universe,
Are all your relatives.
Ignite yourself in the dark night sky and send a ray of light to you in the distance. .
All the happiness comes from me and you who are burning in the dark. .
Extended data:
Tagore made bold innovations in poetry, genre, language and expression. Stylistically, realistic themes are regarded as having contemplative factors, and contemplative genres are regarded as having realistic factors; Genre, the poet created the form of "story poem" and political lyric poem; He also devoted himself to writing free verse.
Tagore is good at learning and using spoken language in people's lives, making the language of poetry lively and vivid; In terms of creative methods, he organically combines realism with romanticism, but romanticism is more important in lyric poetry and realism is more in narrative works.
Tagore's women come from different castes and classes and have different identities.
Such as child brides, widowed girls, buried widows, deceived girls, traditional Indian housewives, well-educated celebrities and intellectual women with new ideas. These women are often portrayed as victims of traditional bad habits, pursuers of happy love and new Indian women in the author's ideal.
The low status and miserable situation of Indian women are the result of politics, race, religion and husband's bondage, and are the reflection of all kinds of disadvantages caused by Indian religious society.
Baidu encyclopedia-Tagore
2. Tagore's poem about ideal 1, "Life is like summer flowers"-I heard the echo of the valley and the heart from Tagore's Birds.
Harvesting an empty soul with a lonely sickle. Repeated refusal, repeated happiness.
There are swaying oases in the desert. I believe in myself.
Born like bright summer flowers. Never flinch, enchanting as fire.
Bear the burden of heartbeat and breathing. Enjoy it.
I hear music, from moonlight and body. Aesthetics of assisting extreme bait to capture ethereal.
Life is full of intense and naive. There are always memories running through the world.
I believe in myself. Death is like a beautiful autumn leaf.
Not prosperous, not chaotic, and the posture is like smoke. Even if it withers, it will retain the pride of plump muscles and clear bones.
Mysterious and mysterious. I hear love, and I believe in love.
Love is a struggling blue-green algae. Like a sad wind.
The belief that I have been holding on to for many years. I believe I can hear everything.
Even foresee separation and meet another self. And some moments are impossible to grasp.
No matter east or west, what is lost will never come back. Look at my hairpins, they are blooming all the way.
I often miss some and am deeply moved by wind, frost, rain and snow. Prajna paramita lives like summer flowers and dies like autumn leaves.
And care about what you have. 2, fireflies-from Tagore's poetry collection "Gitanjali" Little fireflies, in the Woods, in the dark twilight, how happily you spread your wings! You pour your heart into joy.
You are not the sun, and you are not the moon. Don't you have less fun? You have completed your own survival, and you have lit your own lamp; All you have is your own, and you don't owe anyone; You just obeyed, your inner strength. You broke the shackles of darkness. You are small, but you are not small, because all the light in the universe is your relatives.
Ignite yourself in the dark night sky and send a ray of light to you in the distance. All the happiness comes from me and you who are burning in the dark.
. Extended information:
Tagore made bold innovations in poetry, genre, language and expression. Stylistically, realistic themes are regarded as having contemplative factors, and contemplative genres are regarded as having realistic factors; Genre, the poet created the form of "story poem" and political lyric poem; He also devoted himself to writing free verse.
Tagore is good at learning and using spoken language in people's lives, making the language of poetry lively and vivid; In terms of creative methods, he organically combines realism with romanticism, but romanticism is more important in lyric poetry and realism is more in narrative works. Tagore's women come from different castes and classes and have different identities.
Such as child brides, widowed girls, buried widows, deceived girls, traditional Indian housewives, well-educated celebrities and intellectual women with new ideas. These women are often portrayed as victims of traditional bad habits, pursuers of happy love and new Indian women in the author's ideal. The low status and miserable situation of Indian women are the result of politics, race, religion and husband's bondage, and are the reflection of all kinds of disadvantages caused by Indian religious society.
Baidu encyclopedia-Tagore.
3. Tagore's dream house is a combination of walls and beams; Home is made up of love and dreams.
Tagore once I dreamed that we were strangers, but in reality we loved each other deeply. We woke up to find each other dead. My heart is a bird in the wilderness, and I found its sky in your eyes. My heart is a wild bird, and I found the sky in your eyes. It is the tears of the earth that keep her smile young.
It is the tears of the earth that keep her smile in bloom. If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars. If you miss the sun and lose your teacher, you will also miss the stars. You can't see yourself, all you see is your own shadow.
You can't see yourself, all you see is your shadow. The waterfall sings, "When I found my freedom, I found my song." The waterfall sings, "When I am free, I have a song." You smiled slightly and said nothing to me.
And I feel like I've been waiting for this for a long time. You smile and don't say anything to me, and I feel that I have been waiting for this for a long time. Man can't express himself in history, he struggles to get ahead in history.
Man can't show himself in his history, he can only struggle forward in history. Like the meeting of seagulls and waves, we meet and come near. The seagulls flew away, the waves rolled away and we parted.
Like the meeting of seagulls and waves, we meet and come near. The seagulls flew away, the waves rolled away and we left. When we are very humble, we are closest to greatness. When we are very humble, we approach greatness. Never be afraid of this moment-the eternal voice sings like this.
Never be afraid of the moment-it is the eternal voice. "Perfect" decorates itself beautifully for the love of "incomplete". "Perfection" dresses itself up with beauty for the love of "perfection". Mistakes can't stand failure, but truth is not afraid of failure.
Mistakes can't stand failure, but correctness can. This lonely evening is shrouded in fog and rain, and I feel its sigh in my inner loneliness. In my lonely heart, I feel this scene filled with mistakes and rain. We read the world wrong and said it deceived us.
We read the world wrong and said it depends on us. People build dikes for themselves. Men set up roadblocks for him. Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.
Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves. I think of other times floating on the stream of life and death, love and forgotten, and I feel the freedom to leave this world. I think of other times floating on the stream of life, love and death. They are forgotten, and I feel the freedom to die. Just walk past, don't stay to pick flowers for preservation, because flowers will continue to bloom along the way.
Just walk there, don't stop to collect flowers for preservation, because the flowers will continue to bloom along the way. Thoughts pass through my heart like a flock of wild ducks flying across the sky. I heard them flapping their wings.
Thoughts pass through my mind like a flock of wild ducks flying across the sky. I hear the sound of their wings. "Who drives me forward like fate?" "That's me, striding behind my back." Who drives me forward like fate? Strode mysteriously on my back. Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sign. Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sign. The desert is burning for the love of the green leaves, but she shakes her head and flies away with a smile.
The boundless desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away. Dancing water! When the sands in your way beg for your song and movement, will you bear the burden of their lameness? The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Are you willing to bear the burden of lameness? Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening in the silent forest. Regret calms down in my heart, just like the silence in the silent forest. I can't choose the best, but the best chose me.
I can't choose the best. The best choice is me. People who carry lanterns have shadows to cover the road ahead. Those who carry the lamp on their backs cast their shadows in front of them. Rest belongs to work just as eyelids belong to eyes.
Rest is what the eyes are to the eyes. Stars are not afraid to appear, because they are like fireflies. Stars are not afraid to look like fireflies. Sparrows are worried about peacocks, because peacocks have their tails.
Sparrows are sad that peacocks have buried their tails. The waterfall sings, "Although the thirsty only need a little water, I am willing to give my all." The waterfall sings, "I give all my water happily", although the thirsty need only a little water. The woodcutter's axe asked the tree for its handle, and the tree gave it. The woodcutter's axe begged the tree for its handle, and the tree gave it. People who want to do good are knocking at the door; The lover saw that the door was open.
People who want to do good are knocking at the door; The lover found the door open. The scabbard protects the sharpness of the sword, but it is content with its own dullness. This.
Tagore urgently needs the green leaves of his prose poems about ideals and wishes.
The green leaves of countless invisible hearts stretch around me for thousands of years.
I am attached to these trees. They are long-lasting almsgiving monks who are eager for sunshine. Every day, they scoop out the sweet juice of light from the sky and inject the stored invisible flame into the deepest bone marrow of life. From flowers, from birds' singing, from lovers' touching, from affectionate commitment, from tears' eagerness to dedication, we extract the crystallization of pure and fragrant beauty.
Many forgotten or remembered beauties have left a real taste of "immortality" in my veins.
The storm of bitterness and joy caused by various conflicts shook the leaves that spread my feelings, adding intensive joy and trembling, bringing humiliating reprimands, uneasy embarrassment, pollution distress and protests under the pressure of life.
The strange movement of right and wrong is surging with the waves of spiritual interests, and passion sends all greedy ideas into the sacrifice hall.
The whisper of green leaves, which can't be felt through the ages, makes me disillusioned. In the noon leisure time when the eagle hovers, the bees buzz and the tears are crystal clear, the lovers who shake hands and sit silently wander, and their green sympathy falls, brushing the edge of the sari on the girl lying in bed's undulating and soft chest.
Tagore urgently needs the green leaves of his prose poems about ideals and wishes.
The green leaves of countless invisible hearts stretch around me for thousands of years.
I am attached to these trees. They are long-lasting almsgiving monks who are eager for sunshine. Every day, they scoop out the sweet juice of light from the sky and inject the stored invisible flame into the deepest bone marrow of life. From flowers, from birds' singing, from lovers' touching, from affectionate commitment, from tears' eagerness to dedication, we extract the crystallization of pure and fragrant beauty.
Many forgotten or remembered beauties have left a real taste of "immortality" in my veins.
The storm of bitterness and joy caused by various conflicts shook the leaves that spread my feelings, adding intensive joy and trembling, bringing humiliating reprimands, uneasy embarrassment, pollution distress and protests under the pressure of life.
The strange movement of right and wrong is surging with the waves of spiritual interests, and passion sends all greedy ideas into the sacrifice hall.
The whisper of green leaves, which can't be felt through the ages, makes me disillusioned. In the noon leisure time when the eagle hovers, the bees buzz and the tears are crystal clear, the lovers who shake hands and sit silently wander, and their green sympathy falls, brushing the edge of the sari on the girl lying in bed's undulating and soft chest.
Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, have a sign. Fly there. Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sign. Troupe of little vagrants of the world, please leave your footprints in my words. Leave your footprints in my words. The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes smaller, like a song. As small as one kiss of the eternal. The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal. 4 is the tears of the earth. Keep her smile young. It is the teachers of the earth who keep their youthful smiles. The boundless desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass. She shook her head and flew away with a smile. The boundless 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 will also miss the stars. The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Are you willing to bear the burden of lameness? The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Are you willing to bear the burden of lameness? Her eager face haunts my dreams like the rain at night. Her wishing face hurt my dreams like rain at night. Once, we dreamed that everyone was a stranger. We are awake. I know we love each other. Once we dreamed that we were strangers. We woke up only to find each other dead. The worries in my heart calmed down. It's like dusk arrival in the silent forest. Sorry to rush into peace in my heart, like an event in the silent forest. Some invisible hands, such as lazy thoughts, have ripples of music playing in my heart. Some unseen fingers, like an idle breeze, are playing the music of the ripples on my heart. "This is an eternal question." "What's your answer, sky?" "It's eternal silence." What is your language, sea water? The language of eternal questions. What's your answer, sky? The language of eternal silence 13 Listen quietly, my heart, to the whispers of the world, which is the expression of its love for you. Listen to the whispers of the world. This is its sign of love for you. It's like the darkness at night-great. But the illusion of knowledge is like the fog in the morning. The mystery of creation is like the darkness of night-great. The illusion of knowledge is like the fog of money. Ng。 15 Don't let your love sit on a cliff just because it is high. Don't seat your love on a cliff just because it is high. Nodded to me and walked over. I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes. These thoughts are the rustle of leaves; They whispered happily in their hearts. These little thoughts are the rust of leaves; They whispered happily in my heart. You can't see yourself, you can only see your own shadow. You can't see yourself, all you see is your shadow. God, my wish is stupid. They shout in your song. Let me hear it. My wishes are tools, and they should go through my songs. My master. Let me listen. I can't choose the best. It's the best choice for me. I can't choose the best. The best choice me.2 1 Those who carry the lamp on their backs, I cast their shadows in front of myself. Those who carry the lamp on their backs cast their shadows in front of them. My existence is a permanent magic to me. This is life. My existence is a permanent surprise, and this is life. 23 "Our rustling leaves have a voice in response to the wind and rain. Who are you, so silent? " "I'm just a flower." We, rusty leaves, all have voices to respond to the storm, but who are you, so silent? "I'm just a flower. The relationship between rest and work is like the relationship between eyelids and eyes. Rest belongs to work, just as eyes belong to eyes. 25 people are newborn children, and his strength is the strength of growth. Man is a born child. His strength is the strength of growth. God wants us to reward him because of the flowers he gave us, not the sun and the earth. God wants us to answer him in the flowers he gave us, not in the sun and the land. Light plays like a naked child among the green leaves. It doesn't know that people will cheat. Light, like a naked child, plays happily among the green leaves. It doesn't know that people can lie. Ah, beauty, find yourself in love, not in the flattery of your mirror. Ah, beauty, find yourself in love, not in the flat mirror of your mirror. My heart beats her waves at the shore of the world and writes on it her signature in tears: "I love you." My heart beats her waves at the shore of the world and writes her signature on it in tears: "I love them." "30" Moon, what are you waiting for? ""Salute to the sun, and I will give way to it. "The moon, yes.