Come， O come to my lake， if you would plunge to your death.
13
我一无所求，只站在林边树后。
倦意还逗留在黎明的眼上，露润在空气里。
湿草的懒味悬垂在地面的薄雾中。
在榕树下，你用乳油般柔嫩的手挤着牛奶。
我沉静地站立着。
我没有说出一个字，那是藏起的鸟儿在密叶中歌唱。
杧果树在树径上撒着繁花，蜜蜂一只一只地嗡嗡飞来。
池塘边，湿婆天的庙门开了，朝拜者开始诵经。
你把罐儿放在膝上挤着牛奶。
我提着空桶站立着。
我没有走近你。
天空和庙里的锣声一同醒起。
街尘在驱走的牛蹄下飞扬。
把汩汩发响的水瓶搂在腰上，女人们从河边走来。
你的钏镯叮当，乳沫溢出罐沿。
晨光渐逝，而我没有走近你。
I asked nothing， only stood at the edge of the wood behind the tree.
Languor was still upon the eyes of the dawn， and the dew in the air.
The lazy smell of the damp grass hung in the thin mist above the earth.
Under the banyan tree you were milking the cow with your hands， tender and fresh as butter.
And I was standing still.
I did not say a word. It was the bird that sang unseen from the thicket.
The mango tree was shedding its flowers upon the village road， and the bees came humming one by one.
On the side of the pond the gate of Shiva's temple was open and the worshipper had begun his chants.
With the vessel on your lap you were milking the cow.
I stood with my empty can.
I did not come near you.
The sky woke with the sound of the gong at the temple.
The dust was raised in the road from the hoofs of the driven cattle.
With the gurgling pitchers at their hips， women came from the river.
Your bracelets were jingling， and foam brimming over the jar.
The morning wore on and I did not come near you.
14
我在路边行走，也不知道为什么，时已过午，竹枝在风中簌簌作响。
横斜的影子伸臂拖住流光的双足。
布谷鸟都唱倦了。
我在路边行走，也不知道为什么。
低垂的树阴盖住水边的茅屋。
有人正忙着工作，她的钏镯在一角放出音乐。
我在茅屋前面站着，我不知道为什么。
曲径穿过一片芥菜田地和几层杧果树林。
它经过村庙和渡头的市集。
我在这茅屋面前停住了，我不知道为什么。
好几年前，三月风吹的一天，春天倦慵地低语，杧果花落在地上，浪花跳起掠过立在渡头阶沿上的铜瓶。
我想着三月风吹的这一天，我不知道为什么。
阴影更深，牛群归栏。
冷落的牧场上日色苍白，村人在河边待渡。
我缓步回去，我不知道为什么。
I was walking by the road， I do not know why， when the noonday was past and bamboo branches rustled in the wind.
The prone shadows with their outstretched arms clung to the feet of the hurrying light.
The koels were weary of their songs.
I was walking by the road， I do not know why.
The hut by the side of the water is shaded by an overhanging tree.
Some one was busy with her work， and her bangles made music in the corner.
I stood before this hut， I know not why.
The narrow winding road crosses many a mustard feld， and many a mango forest.
It passes by the temple of the village and the market at the river landing place.
I stopped by this but， I do not know why.
Years age it was a day of breezy March when the murmur if the spring was languorous， and mango blossoms were dropping on the dust.
The rippling water leapt and licked the brass vessel that stood on the landing step.
I think of that day of breezy March， I do not know why.
Shadows are deepening and cattle returning to their folds.
The light is grey upon the lonely meadows， and the village are waiting for the ferry at the bank.
I slowly return upon my steps， I do not know why.
15
我像麝鹿一样在林阴中奔走，为着自己的香气而发狂。
夜晚是五月正中的夜晚，清风是南国的清风。
我迷了路，我游荡着，我寻求那得不到的东西，我得到我所没有寻求的东西。
我自己的愿望的形象从我心中走出，跳起舞来。
这闪光的形象飞掠过去。
我想把它紧紧捉住，它躲开了又引着我飞走下去。
我寻求那得不到的东西，我得到我所没有寻求的东西。
I run as a musk-deer runs in the shadow of the forest mad with his own perfume.
The night is the night of mid-May， the breeze is the breeze of the south.
I lose my way and I wander， I seek what I cannot get， I get what I do not seek.
From my heart comes out and dances the image of my own desire.
The gleaming vision fits on.
I try to clasp it firmly， it eludes me and leads me astray.
I seek what I cannot get， I get what I do not seek.
16
手握着手，眼恋着眼，这样开始了我们的心的记录。
这是三月的月明之夜，空气里有凤仙花的芬芳；我的横笛抛在地上，你的花串也没有编成。
你我之间的爱像歌曲一样的单纯。
你橙黄色的面纱使我眼睛陶醉。
你给我编的茉莉花环使我心震颤，像是受了赞扬。
这是一个又予又留、又隐又现的游戏；有些微笑，有些娇羞，也有些甜柔的无用的抵拦。
你我之间的爱像歌曲一样的单纯。
没有现在以外的神秘；不强求那做不到的事情；没有魅惑后面的阴影；没有黑暗深处的探索。
你我之间的爱像歌曲一样的单纯。
我们没有走出一切语言之外，进入永远的沉默；我们没有向天空举手，寻求希望以外的东西。
我们付与，我们取得，这就够了。
我们没有把喜乐压成微尘来榨取痛苦之酒。
你我之间的爱像歌曲一样的单纯。
Hands cling to hands and eyes linger on eyes； thus begins the record of our hearts.
It is the moonlit night of March； the sweet smell of henna is in the air； my fute lies on the earth neglected and your garland of fowers is unfnished.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
Your veil of the saffron colour makes my eyes drunk.
The jasmine wreath that you wove me thrills to my heart like praise.
It is a game of giving and withholding， revealing and screening again； some smiles and some little shyness， and some sweet useless struggles.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
No mystery beyond the present； no striving for the impossible； no shadow behind the charm； no groping in the depth of the dark.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
We do not stray out of all words into the ever silent； we do not raise our hands to the void for things beyond hope.
It is enough what we give and we get.
We have not crushed the joy to the utmost to wring from it the wine of pain.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
17
黄鸟在自己的树上歌唱，使我的心喜舞。
我们两人住在一个村子里，这是我们的一份快乐。
她心爱的一对小羊，到我园里的树阴下吃草。
它们若走进我的麦地，我就把它们抱在臂里。
我们的村子名叫康遮那，人们管我们的小河叫安遮那。
我的名字村人都知道，她的名字是软遮那。
我们中间只隔着一块田地。
在我们树里做窝的蜜蜂，飞到他们林中去采蜜。
从他们渡头衔上流来的落花，飘到我们洗澡的池塘里。
一筐一筐的红花干从他们地里送到我们的市集上。
我们村子名叫康遮那，人们管我们的小河叫安遮那。
我的名字村人都知道，她的名字是软遮那。
到她家去的那条曲巷，春天充满了杧果的花香。
他们亚麻子收成的时候，我们地里的苎麻正在开放。
在他们房上微笑的星辰，送给我们以同样的闪亮。
在他们水槽里满溢的雨水，也使我们的迦昙树林喜乐。
我们村子名叫康遮那，人们管我们的小河叫安遮那。
我的名字村人都知道，她的名字是软遮那。
The yellow birds sings in their tree and makes my heart dance with gladness.
We both live in the same village， and that is our one piece of joy.
Her pair of pet lambs come to graze in the shade of our garden trees.
If they stray into my barley feld， I take them up in my arms.
The name of our village is Khanjana， and Anjana they call our river.
My name is known to all the village， and her name is Ranjana.
Only one feld lies between us.
Bees that have hived in our grove go to seek honey in theirs.
Flowers launched from their landing-stairs come floating by the stream where we bathe.
Baskets of dried kusm fowers come from their felds to our market.
The name of our village is Khanjana， and Anjana they call our river.
My name is known to all the village， and her name is Ranjana.