12 If you would be busy and fill your pitcher, come, O come to my lake. The water will cling round your feet and babble its secret. The shadow of the coming rain is on the sands, and the clouds hang low upon the blue lines of the trees like the heavy hair above your eyebrows. I know well the rhythm of your steps, they are beating in my heart. Come, O come to my lake, if you must fill your pitcher.
If you would be idle and sit listless and let your pitcher float on the water, come, O come to my lake. The grassy slope is green, and the wild flowers beyond number. Your thoughts will stray out of your dark eyes like birds from their nests. Your veil will drop to your feet. Come, O come to my lake if you must sit idle.
If you would leave off your play and dive in the water, come, O come to my lake. Let your blue mantle lie on the shore; the blue water will cover you and hide you. The waves will stand a-tiptoe to kiss your neck and whisper in your ears. Come, O come to my lake, if you would dive in the water.
If you must be mad and leap to your death, come, O come to my lake. It is cool and fathomlessly deep. It is dark like a sleep that is dreamless. There in its depths nights and days are one, and songs are silence. Come, O come to my lake, if you would plunge to your death.
上大学时偶遇泰戈尔的《The Gardener》，才开始对英语感兴趣。其后一直找不到这本书，不料昨天竟然从图书馆借得。翻开书后的借书印戳，赫然看到最后一个印戳是1919年！五四运动那年！其余印戳多是1917，即距今刚好100年了。此书基本完好，一个世纪以来，最多就是近十来年电子化不再使用印戳时有人借过而没有留下痕迹。
贴一首喜欢的：
12
If you would be busy and fill your pitcher, come, O come to my
lake.
The water will cling round your feet and babble its secret.
The shadow of the coming rain is on the sands, and the clouds
hang low upon the blue lines of the trees like the heavy hair
above your eyebrows.
I know well the rhythm of your steps, they are beating in my
heart.
Come, O come to my lake, if you must fill your pitcher.
If you would be idle and sit listless and let your pitcher float
on the water, come, O come to my lake.
The grassy slope is green, and the wild flowers beyond number.
Your thoughts will stray out of your dark eyes like birds from
their nests.
Your veil will drop to your feet.
Come, O come to my lake if you must sit idle.
If you would leave off your play and dive in the water, come, O
come to my lake.
Let your blue mantle lie on the shore; the blue water will cover
you and hide you.
The waves will stand a-tiptoe to kiss your neck and whisper in
your ears.
Come, O come to my lake, if you would dive in the water.
If you must be mad and leap to your death, come, O come to my
lake.
It is cool and fathomlessly deep.
It is dark like a sleep that is dreamless.
There in its depths nights and days are one, and songs are
silence.
Come, O come to my lake, if you would plunge to your death.
觉得泰戈尔的诗也有某种妩媚，跟李太白《月下独酌》之类的诗篇的流转酥润、松动摇曳是相通的。这也许才是真正的诗才。雄浑奇崛并不那么难做到，譬如李贺、辛弃疾、韩愈（最近才读）。李太白的《将进酒》《秦王扫六合》之类不但雄奇，且生陶醉之感，就是因为他具备前一种素质。
偶感，一念，与诗友分享一下而已。
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