搜搜做题作业网24课散文诗两首《金色花》的翻译
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24课散文诗两首《金色花》的翻译
金色花 (泰戈尔)
假如我变成了一朵金色花,只是为了好玩,
长在那棵树的高枝上,笑哈哈地在风中摇摆,又在新
生的树叶上跳舞?妈妈,你会认识我么?
你要是叫道：“孩子,你在哪里呀?”我暗
暗地在那里匿笑,却一声不响.
我要悄悄地开放花瓣儿,看着你工作.
当你沐浴后,湿发披在两肩,穿过金色花的
林荫,走到你做祷告的小庭院时,你会嗅到这花的香
气,却不知道这香气是从我身上来的.
当你吃过中饭,坐到窗前读《罗摩衍那》,
那棵树的阴影落在你头发与膝上时,我便要投我的小
小的影子在你的书页上,正投在你所读的地方.
但是你会猜得出这就是你的小孩子的小影子
么?
当你黄昏时拿了灯到牛棚里去,我便要突然
地再落到地上来,又成了你的孩子,求你讲个故事给
我听.
“你到哪里去了,你这坏孩子?”
“我不告诉你,妈妈.”这就是你同我那时
所要说的话了.
The Champa Flower
R.Rabindranath Tagore
Suppousing I became a champa flower,just for fun,and grew on a branch high up that tree,and shook in the wind with laughter and danced upon the newly budded leaves,would you know me,mother?
You would call,“Baby,where are you?”and I should laugh to myself and keep quite quite.
I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work.
When after your bath,with wet hair spread on your shoulders,you walked through the shadow of the champa tree to the little court where you say your prayers,you would notice the scent of the flower,but not know that it came from me.
When after the midday meal you sat at the window reading Ramayana,and the tree’s shadow fell over your hair and your lap, I should fling my wee little shadow on to the page of your book,just where you were reading,
But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child?
When in the evening you went to the cowshed with the lighted lamp in your hand,I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and be your own baby once more,and beg you to tell me a story.
“Where have you been,you naughty child?”
“I won’t tell you ,mother.”that’s what you and I would say then.
假如我变成了一朵金色花,只是为了好玩,
长在那棵树的高枝上,笑哈哈地在风中摇摆,又在新
生的树叶上跳舞?妈妈,你会认识我么?
你要是叫道：“孩子,你在哪里呀?”我暗
暗地在那里匿笑,却一声不响.
我要悄悄地开放花瓣儿,看着你工作.
当你沐浴后,湿发披在两肩,穿过金色花的
林荫,走到你做祷告的小庭院时,你会嗅到这花的香
气,却不知道这香气是从我身上来的.
当你吃过中饭,坐到窗前读《罗摩衍那》,
那棵树的阴影落在你头发与膝上时,我便要投我的小
小的影子在你的书页上,正投在你所读的地方.
但是你会猜得出这就是你的小孩子的小影子
么?
当你黄昏时拿了灯到牛棚里去,我便要突然
地再落到地上来,又成了你的孩子,求你讲个故事给
我听.
“你到哪里去了,你这坏孩子?”
“我不告诉你,妈妈.”这就是你同我那时
所要说的话了.
The Champa Flower
R.Rabindranath Tagore
Suppousing I became a champa flower,just for fun,and grew on a branch high up that tree,and shook in the wind with laughter and danced upon the newly budded leaves,would you know me,mother?
You would call,“Baby,where are you?”and I should laugh to myself and keep quite quite.
I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work.
When after your bath,with wet hair spread on your shoulders,you walked through the shadow of the champa tree to the little court where you say your prayers,you would notice the scent of the flower,but not know that it came from me.
When after the midday meal you sat at the window reading Ramayana,and the tree’s shadow fell over your hair and your lap, I should fling my wee little shadow on to the page of your book,just where you were reading,
But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child?
When in the evening you went to the cowshed with the lighted lamp in your hand,I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and be your own baby once more,and beg you to tell me a story.
“Where have you been,you naughty child?”
“I won’t tell you ,mother.”that’s what you and I would say then.