The furthest distance in the world (Rabindranath Tagore)
The furthest distance in the world
Is not between life and death
But when I stand in front of you
Yet you don't know that
I love you
The furthest distance in the world
Is not when I stand in front of you
Yet you can't see my love
But when undoubtedly knowing the love from both
Yet cannot
Be together
The furthest distance in the world
Is not being apart while being in love
But when plainly cannot resist the yearning
Yet pretending
You have never been in my heart
The furthest distance in the world
Is not
But using one's indifferent heart
To dig an uncrossable river
For the one who loves you
If I love you---
I will never be a trumpet creeper
Clinging to your body to highlight my height;
If I love you---
I will never be a spoony bird
Repeating the monotonous song for a green shade;
Nor a spring
That brings perennial cool solace;
Nor steep peak
That increases your highness, reflect your eminence.
Even the sunlight.
Even the spring rain.
No, all these are not sufficient!
I must be a ceiba stand by your side,
A tree
With roots clinched underground,
And leaves touched in the cloud.
We nod to each other,
When each gust passes by,
But nobody
Can understand our words.
You have your iron body,
Like a knife, a sword,
As well as a halberd;
I have my red flowers,
Like a heavy sigh,
And a valiant torch.
We share cold, storms and thunders;
We enjoy brume, mist and neons,
Seems we are part always,
But we are together forever.
Only this can be called a great love,
The loyalty is this:
Not only your manful body I love,
But also the place you hold, and the land under your foot.
Sorry the English translation of this poem (by Tsangyang Gyatso) is still missing, yet might be found in Yu Dawchyuan, "Love Songs of the Sixth Dalai Lama", Academia Sinica Monograph, Series A, No.5, 1930.
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.作者: 不朽的神话 时间: 2010-9-20 21:40
