It is the pang of separation that spreads throughout
The world and gives birth to shapes innumetable
In the infinite sky.
It is this sorrow of separation that gazes
In silence all nights from star to star
And becomes lyric among rustling leaves
In rainy darkness of July.
It is this overspreading pain that
Deepens into loves and desires,
Into sufferings and joy in human homes;
And this it is that ever melts and
Flows in songs through my poet’s heart.
If the day is done,
If birds sing no more.
If the wind has fiagged tired,
Then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me,
Even as thou hast wrapt the earth with。
The coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed,
The petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.
From the traverer,
Whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended,
Whose garment is torn and dust-laden,
Whose strength is exhausted,remove shame and poverty,
And renew his life like a flower under.
The cover of thy kindly night.
By Rabindranath Tagore
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.
O Troupe of little vagrants of the world,leave your footprints in my words.
The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover.
It becomes small as one song,as one kiss of the eternal.
It is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom.
The mighty 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 also miss the stars.
The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement,dancing water,Will you carry the burden of their lameless?
Her wishful face haunts my dreams like the rain at night.
Once we dreamt that we were strangers.
We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.
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 come near you.(短文学网 www.duanwenxue.com)
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.
In the deep shadows of the rainy july ,with secret steps,
Thou walkest,silent as night ,eluding all watchers.
Today the morning has closed its eyes ,
Heedless of the insistent calls of the loud east wind ,
And a thick veil has been drawn over the ever-wakeful blue sky.
The woodlands have hushed their songs,
And doors are all shut at every house .
thou art the solitary wayfarer in this deserted street.
Oh my only friend,my best beloved,
The gates are open in my house -do not pass by like a dream.
Life, thin and light-off time and time again
I heard the echo, from the valleys and the heart
Open to the lonely soul of sickle harvesting
Repeat outrightly, but also repeat the well-being of
Eventually swaying in the desert oasis
I believe I am
Born as the bright summer flowers
Do not withered undefeated fiery demon rule
Heart rate and breathing to bear the load of the cumbersome
I heard the music, from the moon and carcass
Auxiliary extreme aestheticism bait to capture misty
Filling the intense life, but also filling the pure
There are always memories throughout the earth
I believe I am
Died as the quiet beauty of autumn leaves
Sheng is not chaos, smoke gesture
Even wilt also retained bone proudly Qing Feng muscle
I hear love, I believe in love
Love is a pool of struggling blue-green algae
As desolate micro-burst of wind
Bleeding through my veins
Years stationed in the belief
I believe that all can hear
Even anticipate discrete, I met the other their own
Some can not grasp the moment
Left to the East to go West, Gu, the dead must not return to
See, I head home Zanhua, in full bloom along the way all the way
Frequently missed some, but also deeply moved by wind, frost, snow or rain
Prajna Paramita, soon as soon as
Shengruxiahua dead, as an autumn leaf
Also care about what has