蒐集了好幾首泰戈爾寫關於寶寶的詩,即使節錄短短幾句也可以描繪出愛寶寶的心情

徐翰林(譯)(2005)。泰戈爾的詩(原作者:Rabindranath Tagore羅賓德拉奈德?泰戈爾)。譯本出版地點:台北市:四塊玉
。(原著出版?:1913)

泰戈爾的詩The collection of Tagore's Poems
新月集 The Crescent Moon

嬰兒之道

只要嬰兒願意,此刻他便可飛上天堂
他之所以沒有離開我們並非沒有原因
他喜歡把投靠在媽媽懷中,那怕一刻都沒見到她都不行

嬰兒知道所有智慧的語言,那怕全世界沒有人知曉含意
他之所以不願說話,不是沒有原因的
他想做的事,就是要學從媽媽嘴裡說出來的話,這就是為什麼他看起來如此天真。

嬰兒有成堆的金銀珠寶,但他卻像一個乞兒一樣來到這個世界
他如此偽裝,並非沒有原因
這個可愛的小乞兒裸著身子,裝做完全無助的樣子,是想乞求媽媽愛的財富。

嬰兒在纖細的新月之境,自由自在,無拘無束
他放棄自由,並非沒有原因
他知道在媽媽心房的小小角落裡,有著無窮的歡樂,被摟在媽媽愛的臂彎裡,其甜蜜遠勝於自由。

嬰兒從不知道怎樣啼哭
他住在極為幸福的國度裡
他流淚,並非沒有原因
雖然他那可愛的小臉上的微笑,繫著媽媽熱切的心,然而他因小小麻煩發出的啜泣,卻成了憐惜與關愛的雙重牽絆。


If baby only wanted to, he could fly up to heaven this moment.
It is not for nothing that he does not leave us.
He loves to rest his head on mother's bosom, and cannot everbear to lose sight of her.
Baby know all manner of wise words, though few on earth can understand their meaning.
It is not for nothing that he never wants to speak.
The one thing he wants is to learn mother's words from mother's lips.
That is why he looks so innocent.
Baby had a heap of gold and pearls, yet he came like a beggar on to this earth.
It is not for nothing he came in such a disguise.
This dear little naked mendicant pretends to be utterly helpless, so that he may beg for mother's wealth of love.
Baby was so free from every tie in the land of the tiny crescent moon.
It was not for nothing he gave up his freedom.
He knows that there is room for endless joy in mother's little corner of a heart, and it is sweeter far than liberty

to be caught and pressed in her dear arms.
Baby never knew how to cry. He dwelt in the land of perfect bliss.
It is not for nothing he has chosen to shed tears.
Though with the smile of his dear face he draws mother's yearning heart to him, yet his little cries over tiny troubles weave the double bond of pity and love.

何時與為何

當我給你彩色玩具時,我的孩子,我明白了為什麼在雲端、在水中,會如此色彩斑斕,
明白了為什麼花兒會被上色-----當我給你彩色玩具時,我的孩子。

當我的歌唱令你翩翩起舞時,我明白了為什麼樹葉會哼著樂曲,
為什麼海浪將其和諧之音傳到聆聽著的大地心中-----當我的歌唱令你翩翩起舞時。

當我把糖果放到你貪婪的手中時,我明白了為什麼花杯裡會有蜜汁,
為什麼水果會醞釀著甜美的果汁-----當我把糖果放到你貪婪的手中時。

當我輕吻著你的小臉使你微笑時,我的寶貝,我確實明白了晨光中的天空流淌的是怎樣的歡欣,
夏日微風吹拂在我身上是怎樣的愉悅-----當我輕吻著你的小臉使你微笑時。

When and Why

When I bring you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and

why flowers are painted in tints-when I give coloured toys to you, my child.
When I sing to make you dance, I truly know why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices

to the heart of the listening earth-when I sing to make you dance.
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands, I know why there is honey in the cup of the flower, and why fruits

are secretly filled with sweet juice-when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.
When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in

morning light, and what delight the summer breeze brings to my body-when I kiss you to make you smile.

責備

「為什麼你的眼中有淚水,我的孩子?
他們是多麼可惡,時常責備你?
你寫字時墨水弄髒了小手和小臉-- 這就是他們所以罵你骯髒的原因嗎?
呸!他們敢罵滿月骯髒嗎?因為墨水也弄髒了她的臉?」

他們總是為一件小事責備你,我的孩子,他們總是平白無故地找你麻煩。
你在玩耍時不小心扯破了衣服——這就是他們說你邋遢的原因嗎?
呸,那從破碎的雲翳中露出微笑的秋之晨,他們要怎麼說呢?

別去理睬他們對你說什麼,我的孩子。
他們將你的錯誤行徑羅列了一長串。
誰都知道你特別喜歡糖果——這就是他們說你貪婪的原因嗎?
呸,那我們如此喜愛你,他們要怎麼說呢?

WHY ARE THOSE tears in your eyes, my child?
How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing?
You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing-is that why they call you dirty?
O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because it has smudged its face with ink?
For every little trifle they blame you, my child. They are ready to find fault for nothing.
You tore your clothes while playing-is that why they call you untidy?
O, fie! What would they call an autumn morning that smiles through its ragged clouds?
Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
They make a long list of your misdeeds.
Everybody knows how you love sweet things-is that why they call you greedy?
O, fie! What then would they call us who love you?

法官

你想說他什麼就盡情地說吧,但我了解我孩子的缺點。
我不是因為他好才愛他的,只是因為他是我的小寶貝。
如果你只是衡量他的優缺點,你怎會明白他是多麼可愛?

當我必須懲罰他時,他更成為我生命中的一部分了。
當我讓他流淚時,我的心也跟著一起哭泣。
只有我才有權去責罰他,因為只有深愛他的人才可以懲戒他。
你想說他什麼就盡情地說吧,但我了解我孩子的缺點。
我不是因為他好才愛他的,只是因為他是我的小寶貝。

如果你只是衡量他的優缺點,你怎會明白他是多麼可愛?
當我必須懲罰他時,他更成為我生命中的一部分了。
當我讓他流淚時,我的心也跟著一起哭泣。
只有我才有權去責罰他,因為只有深愛他的人才可以懲戒他。

The Judge

Say of him what you please, but I know my child's failings.
I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my little child.
How should you know how dear he can be when you try to weigh his merits against his faults?
When I must punish him he becomes all the more a part of my being.
When I cause his tears to come my heart weeps with him.
I alone have a right to blame and punish, for he only may chastise who loves.

玩具

孩子,整個早晨你那麼快樂地坐在泥土裡,玩著折斷的小樹枝。
我微笑著看你玩那根折斷的小樹枝。
我正忙著算賬,一小時一小時地累積著數字。
或許你看我一眼,想:“這種無聊的遊戲,竟毀了你整個早晨!”
孩子, 我已忘記了一心一意玩樹枝與泥餅的方法了。
我尋求貴重的玩具,收集大把的金銀。
無論你找到什麼,總能創造使你快樂的遊戲,我卻把時間和精力消磨在我永遠得不到的東西上。
在我單薄的獨木舟裡,我掙扎著要橫穿慾望之海,竟忘記了自己也在其中游戲。

Playthings

Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
l am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, “What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!”
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I can never obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game in it.


被忽略的盛會

啊!誰把那條小裙子染上了顏色,我的孩子,誰給你溫潤的四肢套上那件小紅衣?
你清晨起來在院子裡玩耍,你跑得搖搖晃晃跌跌撞撞。但究竟是誰把那條小裙子染上顏色的,我的孩子?
什麼事讓你大笑,我生命的小蓓蕾?
媽媽站在門口,微笑地望著你。
他拍著手,手鐲叮噹作響,你手執竹竿跳著舞,活像一個小牧童。
但究竟什麼事讓你大笑,我生命的小蓓蕾?
喔,小乞兒,你雙手摟著媽媽的脖子,想要些什麼?
喔,貪婪的心,要我把整個世界從天上摘下來,像摘果實那樣,把它放在你纖小你玫瑰色掌心裡嗎?
喔,小乞兒,你在乞求什麼?
風歡喜地帶走你腳踝上的叮噹聲。
太陽微笑著,看你梳洗。
當你在媽媽臂彎裡睡覺時,天空凝視著你,晨光輕聲細語地來到你窗前,輕吻你的眼睛。
風歡喜地帶走你腳踝上的叮噹聲。
夢中的精靈正穿越薄暮的天空向你飛來。
那世界之母藉著你媽媽的心,保留與你比鄰的位子。
他,那個位群星奏樂的人正拿著長笛站在你窗前。
夢中的精靈正穿越薄暮的天空向你飛來。

Ah, who was it coloured that little frock, my child, and coveredyour sweet limbs with that little red tunic?
You have come out in the morning to play in the courtyard,tottering and tumbling as you run.
But who was it coloured that little frock, my child?
What is it makes you laugh, my little life-bud?
Mother smiles at you standing on the threshold.
She claps her hands and her bracelets jingle, and you dancewith your bamboo stick in your hand like a tiny little shepherd.
But what is it makes you laugh, my little life-bud?

O beggar, what do you bed for, clinging to your mother's neckwith both your hands?

O greedy heart, shall I pluck the world like a fruit from thesky to place it on your little rosy palm?

O beggar, what are you begging for?

The wind carries away in glee the tinkling of your ankletbells.
The sun smiles and watches your toilet.
The sky watches over you when you sleep in your mother's arms,and the morning comes tiptoe to your bed and kisses your eyes.
The wind carried away in glee the tinkling of your ankletbells.
The fairy mistress of dreams is coming towards you, flyingthrough the twilight sky.
The world-mother keeps her seat by you in your mother's heart.
He who plays his music to the stars is standing at your windowwith his flute.
And the fairy mistress of dreams is coming towards you, flyingthrough the twilight sky.

竊眠者

誰從嬰兒的眼中竊去了睡眠?我必須知道。
媽媽把他的水壺夾在腰間,去鄰村汲水。

正午時分,孩童的戲耍時間已經結束;池塘裡的鴨子沉默無聲。
牧童在榕樹的樹蔭下睡去了。
白鶴莊嚴而安靜地立在芒果樹旁的泥沼中。

此時,竊眠者進來,從嬰兒眼中偷走了睡眠,飛走了。
當媽媽回來時,發現嬰兒在屋裡的地板爬著。
誰從嬰兒的眼中竊去了睡眠?我必須知道。
我一定要找到她,把他鎖起來。
我一定要去那個黑洞裡查找,在那兒,一條小溪從圓的、有皺紋的石頭中汨汨流出。
我一定要在醉花叢中氤氳的樹影裡尋找,在那兒,鴿子在牠們的角落裡咕咕地叫著,精靈的腳環在繁星滿空的靜夜裡叮噹作響。

黃昏時,我睥睨著竹林呢喃的靜謐,螢火蟲在那兒揮霍著牠們的光芒,我將尋問我遇到的每個生靈:「誰能告訴我竊眠者住在哪裡?」

誰從嬰兒的眼中竊去了睡眠?我必須知道。
我一旦抓住她,
就好好教訓她一頓!
我將闖入她的窩,看看她把竊得的睡眠藏在何處。
我將奪來她的一切,帶回家。
我要牢牢鎖住她的羽翼,
把她放在河邊,
給她一根蘆葦,
讓她在燈心草和睡蓮間釣魚為戲。
黃昏,街市已經收了,
村裡的孩子們坐在媽媽的膝上,
於是夜鳥便在她耳邊譏笑著說:
「你現在要竊誰的眠呢?」

Sleep-Stealer

Who stole sleep from baby's eyes? I must know.
Clasping her pitcher to her waist mother went to fetch water fromthe village near by.
It was noon. The children's playtime was over; the ducks in the pond were silent.
The shepherd boy lay asleep under the shadow of the banyan tree.
The crane stood grave and still in the swamp near the mango grove.
In the meanwhile the Sleepstealer came and, snatching sleep from baby's eyes, flew away.
When mother came back she found baby travelling the room over on all fours.
Who stole sleep from our baby's eyes? I must know. I must find her and chain her up.
I must look into that dark cave, where, through boulders and scowling stones, trickles a tiny stream.
I must search in the drowsy shade of the bakula grove, where pigeons coo in their corner, and fairies' anklets tinkle in the stillness of starry nights.
In the evening I will peep into the whispering silence of the bamboo forest, where fireflies squander their light,

and will ask every creature I meet, 'Can anybody tell me where the Sleep-stealer lives?'
Who stole sleep from baby's eyes? I must know.
Shouldn't I give her a good lesson if I could only catch her!
I would raid her nest and see where she hoards all her stolen sleep.
I would plunder it all, and carry it home.
I would bind her two wings securely, set her on the bank of the river, and then let her play at fishing with a reed among the rushes and water-lilies.
When the marketing is over in the evening, and the village children sit in their mothers' laps, then the night birds will mockingly din her ears with:

'Whose sleep will you steal now?'

開始

我是從哪裡來的,你在哪裡把我撿來的?孩子問他的媽媽。

她把孩子緊緊的摟在胸前,半哭半笑的回答道:
你曾經是我藏在心底的心願,我的寶貝。
你曾藏在我兒時玩的泥娃娃身上;每天早晨我用泥土塑造我的神像,
那時我塑造完又捏碎的就是你。
你曾與我們家的守護神一樣被敬奉,我敬拜家神時也就敬拜了你。
曾活在我一切的希望和愛?,活在我的生命?,活在我母親的生命?。
在支配著我們停不滅的精神之膝上,你已經被撫育了好幾代。
當我還是個少女的時候,我心的花瓣張開,你就像花香似的散發出來。
你軟軟的溫柔,在我青春的肢體上開花了,像太陽出來前天空上的一片曙光。
上天的第一個寵兒,晨曦的雙生兄弟,你在世界生命的溪河?流著,終於停泊在我的心頭。
當我凝視你的臉,神秘之感淹沒了我,你原屬於一切人的,現在竟成了我的。
為了怕失掉你,我把你緊緊的摟在胸前,是什麼魔術把這世界的寶物網羅到我這雙纖細的臂彎??」

The Beginning

"Where have I come from, where did you pick me up?" the baby askedits mother.
She answered, half crying, half laughing, and clasping the baby to her breast-
You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling.
You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made the unmade you then.
You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship I worshipped you.
In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my mother you have lived.
In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have been nursed for ages.
When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered as a fragrance about it.
Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow in the sky before the sunrise.
Heaven's first darling, twain-born with the morning light, you have floated down the stream of the world's life, and at last you have stranded on my heart.
As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong
to all have become mine.
For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What magic has snared the world's treasure in these slender arms of mine?"

孩童的世界

我願我能在我孩子自己的世界中佔一方淨土。
我知道繁星會對他私語,天空也會俯身來到他面前,用它傻傻的的雲朵和彩虹來逗弄他。
那些讓人以為不會說話和看起來永不會動彈的人,帶著他們的故事和滿是明亮玩具的托盤悄悄地爬到他的窗前。
我願我能在穿越孩子心靈的道路上旅行,擺脫所有的束縛;
在那裡,使者徒然奔走於沒有歷史的王國君主間;
在那裡,理智把她的法則當作風箏來飛,真理也會使事實擺脫羈絆,得以自由。

Baby's World

I wish I could take a quiet corner in the heart of my baby's very own world.
I know it has stars that talk to him, and a sky that stoops down to his face to amuse him with its silly clouds and rainbows.
Those who make believe to be dumb, and look as if they never could move, come creeping to his window with their stories and with trays crowded with bright toys.
I wish I could travel by the road that crosses baby's mind, and out beyond all bounds;
Where messengers run errands for no cause between the kingdoms of kings of no history;
Where Reason makes kites of her laws and flies them, and Truth sets Fact free from its fetters.


小小天使

他們喧鬧爭吵,他們猜疑失望,他們爭辯著卻總是沒有結果。
讓你的生命融到他們心中吧,我的孩子,就像是一束明亮的光芒,使他們歡悅而靜謐。
他們的貪婪和嫉妒是殘酷的,他們的語言,如暗藏的刀,渴望飲血。
去,站在他們盛怒的心中,我的孩子,把你那和善的目光投到他們身上,
彷彿那夜晚的寬容的和平遮蔽了白日的紛擾。
我的孩子,讓他們看看你的臉,於是他們明白了萬物的意義;
讓他們愛你,於是他們能夠相愛。
來,坐在無垠的懷抱裡,我的孩子。日出時,敞開並提升你的心,
像一朵盛開的花朵兒;夕陽西沉時,低下你的頭,靜靜的完成這一天的膜拜。

The Child-Angel

They clamar and fight, they doubt and despair, they know no end to their wranglings.
Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my child,
unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence.
They are cruel in their greed and their envy, their words are like hidden knives thirsting for blood.
Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child, and let your gentle eyes fall upon them like the forgiving peace of the evening over the strife of the day.
Let them see your face, my child, and thus know the meaning of all things; let them love you and thus love each other.
Come and take your seat in the bosom of the limitless, my child. At sunrise open and raise your heart like a blossoming flower, and at sunset bend your head and in silence complete the worship of the day.

花的學校

一下雨,他們就放假了。
樹枝在林中交錯,葉子在狂風中簌簌作響,雷雨雲拍著它們的巨手,小花們就身穿粉的、黃的、白的衣裳,衝了出來。
您知道嗎,媽媽,他們的家是在天上,在星星居住的地方。
您沒有看見他們怎樣急著要去那裡? 您難道不知道他們為什麼那樣匆忙嗎?
當然,我可以猜出他們是為誰張開雙臂:他們也有他們的媽媽,就像我有自己的媽媽。

The Flower-School

When storm clouds ramble in the sky and June showers come down.
The moist east wind comes marching over the heath to blow its bagpipes among the bamboos.
Then crowds of flowers come out of a sudden, from nobody knows where, and dance upon the grass in wild glee.
Mother, I really think the flowers go to school underground.
They do their lessons with doors shut, and if they want to come out to play before it is time, their master makes them stand in a corner.
When the rains come they have their holidays.
Branches clash together in the forest, and the leaves rustle in the wild wind,
the thunder-clouds clap their giant hands and the flower children rush out in dresses of pink and yellow and white.
Do you know, mother, their home is in the sky, where the stars are.
Haven't you seen how eager they are to get there? Don't you know why they are in such a hurry?

Of course, I can guess to whom they raise their arms: they have their mother as I have my own.

商人
媽媽,想像一下,您待在家裡,我要去異鄉旅行。
再想像,我的船已在碼頭等待起航,船上滿載貨物。
現在,媽媽,好好想想再告訴我,我回來時要給您帶些什麼。
媽媽,您想要成堆的黃金嗎?
那麼,在黃金河的兩岸,田野裡都是金黃色的稻穀。
在林陰道上,香柏花一朵朵地飄到地上。
我將為您而收集它們,放進數以百計的籃子裡。
媽媽,您想要大如秋日雨點的珍珠嗎?
我將到珍珠島的海岸上去。
在那裡的晨曦中,珍珠在草地的花朵上顫抖,
落到草地上,被狂野的海浪一把一把地撒在沙灘上。
我將送哥哥一對長著翅膀的馬,能在雲端飛翔。
我要送爸爸一支有魔力的筆,在他還沒察覺時,就能把字寫出來。
至於您,媽媽,我一定要送給您那個價值七個王國的首飾盒和珠寶。

The Merchant

Imagine, mother, that you are to stay at home and I am to travel into strange lands.
Imagine that my boat is ready at the landing fully laden.
Now think well, mother, before you say what I shall bring for you when I come back.
Mother, do you want heaps and heaps of gold?
There, by the banks of golden streams, fields are full of golden harvest.
And in the shade of the forest path the golden champa flowers drop on the ground.
I will gather them all for you in many hundred baskets.
Mother, do you want pearls big as the raindrops of autumn?
I shall cross to the pearl island shore.
There in the early morning light pearls tremble on the meadow flowers, pearls drop on the grass,
and pearls are scattered on the sand in spray by the wild sea-waves.
My brother shall have a pair of horses with wings to fly among the clouds.
For father I shall bring a magic pen that, without his knowing, will write of itself.

結束

是我離開的時候了,媽媽,我走了。
當清晨孤寂的破曉時分,您在幽暗中伸出雙臂,想抱起您睡在床上的孩子時,
我會說:“孩子不在那裡了!”—媽媽,我走了。
我將化為一縷清風愛撫著您;我將化為串串漣漪,當您沐浴時,一次次地吻著您。
在刮風的夜裡,當雨點兒在樹葉上滴答作響時,
您在床上將聽到我的私語,當電光從開著的窗口閃進您的屋裡時,
我的笑聲也隨之一起閃現。
如果您清醒地躺在床上,深夜裡仍想著您的孩子,
我將在星空中對您吟唱:“睡吧!媽媽,睡吧。”
乘著四處游移的月光,我悄悄地來到您床上,趁您睡著時,躺在您的懷裡。
我將變成一個夢,從您眼皮的微縫中,滑入您的睡眠深處;
當您醒來,驚奇地張望時,我就像一隻熠熠閃光的螢火蟲,向黑暗中飛去了。

普耶節時,當鄰居的孩子們來屋裡玩耍時,
我將融合在笛聲裡,終日蕩漾在您心頭。
親愛的阿姨帶來了節日禮物,
她會問:“我們的孩子在哪裡,姐姐?”
媽媽,您要溫柔地告訴她:
“他此刻在我的眼眸裡,在我的身體裡,在我的靈魂裡。”

The End
It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.
When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn you stretch out your arms for your baby in the bed,
I shall say,“Baby is not there!”—mother, I am going.
I shall become a delicate draught of air and caress you; and I shall be ripples in the water when you bathe, and kiss you and kiss you again.

In the gusty night when the rain patters on the leaves you will hear my whisper in your bed,
and my laughter will flash with the lightning through the open window into your room.
If you lie awake, thinking of your baby till late into the night,
I shall sing to you from the stars, “Sleep! mother, sleep.”
On the straying moonbeams I shall steal over your bed, and lie upon your bosom while you sleep.
I shall become a dream, and through the little opening of your eyelids I shall slip into the depths of your sleep;

and when you wake up and look round startled, like a twinkling firefly I shall flit out into the darkness.
When, on the great festival of puja, the neighbours’children come and play about the house.
I shall melt into the music of the flute and throb in your heart all day.
Dear auntie will come with puja-presents and will ask,
“Where is air baby, sister?” Mother, you will tell her softly,
“He is in the pupils of my eyes, he is in my body and in my soul.”
It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.
When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn you stretch out your arms for your baby in the bed,
I shall say,“Baby is not there!”—mother, I am going.
I shall become a delicate draught of air and caress you; and I shall be ripples in the water when you bathe, and kiss you and kiss you again.
In the gusty night when the rain patters on the leaves you will hear my whisper in your bed, and my laughter will

flash with the lightning through the open window into your room.
If you lie awake, thinking of your baby till late into the night,
I shall sing to you from the stars, “Sleep! mother, sleep.”
On the straying moonbeams I shall steal over your bed, and lie upon your bosom while you sleep.
I shall become a dream, and through the little opening of your eyelids I shall slip into the depths of your sleep;

and when you wake up and look round startled, like a twinkling firefly I shall flit out into the darkness.
When, on the great festival of puja, the neighbours’children come and play about the house.
I shall melt into the music of the flute and throb in your heart all day.
Dear auntie will come with puja-presents and will ask,
“Where is air baby, sister?” Mother, you will tell her softly,
“He is in the pupils of my eyes, he is in my body and in my soul.”


長者
母親,您的孩子真傻!她是如此孩子氣!
她不知道路燈和星星的區別。
當我們玩著把石子當成食物的遊戲時,她竟以為它們是可以吃的食物,想放到嘴裡去。
當我在她面前翻開一本書,讓她學a、b、c時,她卻用手把書頁撕破,莫名其妙地高興地叫起來;您的孩子就是這樣做功課的。
當我生氣地對她搖搖頭,責罵她,說她調皮時,她卻哈哈大笑,覺得很有趣。
所有人都知道父親不在家,然而,假如我在遊戲時大叫一聲“爸爸”,她會興奮地四處張望,以為父親果真就在旁邊。
當我把洗衣工用來載衣服的驢子當做學生,並且警告她說,我是校長,她會無端地尖叫,叫我哥哥。
您的孩子想要捉住月亮。
她是如此有趣,她把格尼許稱為琪奴許。
母親,您的孩子真傻,她是如此孩子氣!

Superior
Mother, your baby is silly! She is so absurdly childish!
She does not know the difference between the lights in the streets and the stars.
When we play at eating with pebbles, she thinks they are real food, and tries to put them into her mouth.
When I open a book before her and ask her to learn her a, b, c, she tears the leaves with her hands and roars for

joy at nothing; this is your baby’s way of doing her lesson.
When I shake my head at her in anger and scold her and call her naughty, she laughs and thinks it great fun.
Everybody knows that father is away, but if in play I call aloud“Father,” she looks about her in excitement and

thinks that father is near.
When I hold my class with the donkeys that our washerman brings to carry away the clothes and I warn her that I am

the schoolmaster, she will scream for no reason and call me dada. (elder brother)
Your baby wants to catch the moon.
She is so funny,she calls Ganesh Ganush.
Mother, your baby is silly, She is so absurdly childish!


小大人

我人很小,因為我是一個小孩,到了像我父親一樣的年齡時,我就會變大了。
我的老師會走過來說:“時候晚了,去把你的石板和書拿來。”
我將告訴他:“您難道不知道我已經和爸爸一樣大了嗎?我再也不做什麼功課了。”
我的老師將驚訝地說:“他喜歡不讀書就不讀書,因為他是大人了。”
我給自己穿好衣裳,走到人群擁擠的集市裡去。
我的叔叔會跑來說:“你會迷路的,我的孩子;讓我牽著你。”
我會回答:“你看不見嗎,叔叔,我已經和爸爸一樣大了,我得一個人去集市。”
叔叔將會說:“是的,他喜歡去哪兒就去哪兒,因為他是大人了。”
當我正拿錢給我的保姆時,媽媽會從沐浴處歸來,因為我知道如何用我的鑰匙去開錢箱。
媽媽會問:“你在做什麼,淘氣的孩子?”
我會告訴她:“媽媽,你難道不知道我已經和爸爸一樣大了嗎?我得拿錢給保姆。”
媽媽將自言自語地說:“他喜歡把錢給誰就給誰,因為他是大人了。”
在十月的假期裡,爸爸要回家了,他以為我還是個小孩子,從城裡給我帶了小鞋子和小綢衫。
我會說:“爸爸,把這些東西給哥哥吧,因為我已經和你一樣大了。”
爸爸會想一下,然後說:“他喜歡給自己買衣服就去買,因為他是大人了。”

The Little Big Man
I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am as old as my father is.
My teacher will come and say, “It is late, bring your slate and your books.”

I shall tell him, “Do you not know I am as big as father? And I must not have lessons any more.”
My master will wonder and say, “He can leave his books if he likes, for he is grown up.”
I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is thick.
My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, “You will get lost, my boy; let me carry you.”
I shall answer, “Can’t you see, uncle, I am as big as father I must go to the fair lone.”
Uncle will say, “Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is grown up.”
Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key.
Mother will say, “What are you about, naughty child?”
I shall tell her, “Mother, don’t you know, I am as big as father, and I must give silver to my nurse.”
Mother will say to herself, “He can give money to whom he likes, for he is grown up.”
In the holiday time in October father will come home and, thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from

the town little shoes and small silken frocks.
I shall say, “Father, give them to my dada, for I am as big as you are.”
Father will think and say, “He can buy his own clothes if he likes, for he is grown up.”


十二點鐘

媽媽,我現在不想做功課。我已經讀了整整一上午的書了。
您說,現在才十二點鐘。就算現在沒有超過十二點吧,您就不能把剛剛十二點想成下午嗎?
我可以很容易想像出:此刻,太陽已經照到那片稻田的邊緣了, 那個年邁的漁婦正在池邊採擷草葉作為她的晚餐。
我一閉上眼就能想到,馬塔爾樹下的陰影愈發深邃了,池塘里的水看起來黝黑髮亮。
如果十二點鐘能在夜晚來臨,為什麼黑夜不能在十二點鐘的時候到來呢?


The Twelve O’clock
Mother, I do want to leave off my lessons now. I have been at my book all the morning.
You say it is only twelve o’clock. Suppose it isn’t any later; can’t you ever think it is afternoon when it is

only twelve o’clock?
I can easily imagine now that the sun has reached the edge of that rice field, and the old fisher-woman is gathering

herbs for her supper by the side of the pond.
I can just shut my eyes and think that the shadows are growing darker under the madar tree, and the water in the

pond looks shiny black.
If twelve o’clock can come in the night, why can’t the night come when it is twelve o’clock?

作 者

您說爸爸寫了很多書,可是我看不懂他寫的東西。
整個黃昏他都在讀書給您聽,可是您真的明白他的意思嗎?
媽媽,您給我們講的故事,多麼好聽啊!
我納悶,為什麼爸爸不能寫那樣的書呢?
難道他從來沒有聽過自己的媽媽講巨人、精靈和公主的故事嗎?
還是他已經把那些故事徹底遺忘了?
他經常很晚才沐浴,您還得去叫他一百多次。
您等候著,為他把飯菜保溫,但他總是繼續寫作,忘記一切。
爸爸常常視寫書為遊戲。
每當我走進爸爸的房裡去玩耍,您總會過來說我:“真是個調皮的孩子啊!”
每當我稍微弄出一點兒聲響,您就會說:“你難道沒有看見爸爸正在工作嗎?”
爸爸寫呀寫,有什麼樂趣呢?

當我拿起爸爸的鋼筆或鉛筆,像他那樣在他的書上寫著:a、b、c、d、e、f、g、h、i……您為什麼對我生氣呢,媽媽?
在爸爸寫時,您從未說過一句。
當爸爸耗費了那麼一大堆紙時,媽媽,您好像一點兒都不在乎。
然而,如果我只拿出一張紙做一隻船,您卻說:“孩子,你真煩!”
爸爸把黑黑的點子塗滿了紙的兩面,浪費了許多紙,您是怎樣想的呢?


Authorship
You say that father writes a lot of books, but what he writes I don’t understand.
He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really make out what he meant?
What nice stories, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father write like that, I wonder?
Did he never hear from his own mother stories of giants and fairies and princesses?
Has he forgotten them all?
Often when he gets late for his bath you have to go and call him an hundred times.
You wait and keep his dishes warm for him, but he goes on writing and forgets.
Father always plays at making books.
If ever I go to play in father’s room, you come and call me,“What a naughty child!”
If I make the slightest noise, you say, Don’t you see that father’s at his work?”
What’s the fun of always writing and writing?
When I take up father’s pen or pencil and write upon his book just as he does—a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i... why do

you get cross with me then mother?
You never say a word when father writes.
When my father wastes such heap of paper, mother, you don’t seem to mind at all.
But if I take only one sheet to make a boat with, you say,“Child, how troublesome you are!”
What do you think of father’s sibling sheets and sheets of paper with black marks all over on both sides?


壞郵差

您為什麼坐在地板上一聲不吭?告訴我啊,親愛的媽媽!
雨從敞開的窗口飛濺進來,把您淋透了,您卻不在乎。
您聽到鐘已經敲了四下嗎?正是哥哥放學回家的時候。
究竟發生了什麼事,您看起來如此奇怪?
您今天沒有收到爸爸的信嗎?
我看見郵差的袋子裡裝了好多信,幾乎鎮上的每個人都收到信了。
只有爸爸的信,他留給自己看。我想這個郵差是個壞人。
但是不要因此悶悶不樂,親愛的媽媽。
明天是鄰村集市的日子。您叫女僕去買些紙和筆回來。
我自己來寫爸爸該寫的每一封信;讓您找不出一點兒差錯。
我將從A一直寫到K。
但是,媽媽,您為什麼笑?
您不相信我會寫得和爸爸一樣好!
但是我將用心寫,把所有的字母寫得又大又好看。
當我寫完後,您以為我會像爸爸那樣笨,把它放到那可惡郵差的袋子裡嗎?
我會馬上自己為您送信,然後逐字逐句地給您讀。
我知道那個郵差不願意把真正的好信送給您。


The Wicked Postman
Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent? tell me, mother dear!
The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all wet, and you don’t mind it.
Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother to come home from school.
What has happened to you that you look so strange?
Haven’t you got a letter from father today?
I saw the postman bringing letters in his bag for almost everybody in the town.
Only, father’s letters he keeps to read himself. I am sure the postman is a wicked man.

But don’t be unhappy about that, mother dear.
Tomorrow is market day in the next village. You ask your maid to buy some pens and papers.
I myself will write all father’s letters; you will not find a single mistake.
I shall write from A right up to K.
But, mother, why do you smile?
You don’t believe that I can write as nicely as father does!
But I shall rule my paper carefully, and write all the letters beautifully big.
When I finish my writing, do you think I shall be so foolish as father and drop it into the horrid postman’s bag?
I shall bring it to you myself without waiting, and letter by letter help you to read my writing.
I know the postman does not like to give you the really nice letters.


英 雄

媽媽,我們假設我們正在旅行,經過一個陌生而危險的國度。
您坐在一頂轎子裡,我騎著一匹紅馬,跟在您身旁。
黃昏時,太陽落山。暗淡的約拉迪希荒地在我們面前展開。大地貧瘠而荒涼。
您害怕地想著—“我不知道我們到了什麼地方了。”
我對您說:“媽媽,不要害怕。”
草原上長滿了針尖般刺人的草,一條崎嶇的小徑穿越其間。
在這片廣袤的原野上看不見牛群,它們已經回到村子的牛棚裡了。
夜幕降臨,大地和天空一片朦朧昏暗,我們說不出我們正走向何方。
突然,您叫我,悄悄地問我:“靠近河岸的是什麼光亮?”
正在那時,一陣可怕的號叫聲傳來,一些人影向我們跑來。
您蹲在轎子裡,反復不斷地禱告著神的名字。
轎夫們嚇得瑟瑟發抖,在荊棘叢中躲藏起來。
我向您喊著:“不要害怕,媽媽,有我在。”
他們手執長棒,頭髮凌亂,越來越近了。
我大喊:“小心些!你們這些壞蛋!再往前一步,你們就等死吧。”
他們又發出可怕的號叫,並衝上前來。
您緊握住我的手,說:
“乖孩子,看在上天的分兒上,離他們遠些。”
我說:“媽媽,看我的。”
於是我策馬飛奔,
劍和盾互相撞擊,鏗鏘作響。
這場戰鬥是多麼激烈,媽媽,如果您從轎子裡看得見,您一定會打冷戰的。
他們中有許多人逃走了,
大多數被砍成了碎片。
我知道您正獨自坐在那裡,心想,您的孩子此時肯定死了。
然而我跑到您的身旁,滿身是血,說:“媽媽,戰爭已經結束了。”
您從轎子裡走出來,吻著我,把我摟入您的懷中,自言自語地說:
“如果沒有我的孩子保護著我,我真不知如何是好。”
日復一日,上千件無聊的事發生著,為什麼這種事就不能偶爾實現呢?
就像一本書裡的故事。
我的哥哥會說:“這怎麼可能?我常常想,他是那麼單薄!”
我們村里的人們都會驚訝地說:“這孩子正和他媽媽在一起,不是很幸運嗎?”

The Hero
Mother, let us imagine we are travelling, and passing through a strange and dangerous country.
You are riding in a palanquin and I am trotting by you on a red horse.
It is evening and the sun goes down. The waste of Joradighi lies wan and grey before us. The land is desolate and

barren.
You are frightened and thinking—“I know not where we have come to.”
I say to you, “Mother, do not be afraid.”
The meadow is prickly with spiky grass, and through it runs a narrow broken path.
There are no cattle to be seen in the wide field; they have gone to their village stalls.
It grows dark and dim on the land and sky, and we cannot tell where we are going.


Suddenly you call me and ask me in a whisper, “What light is that near the bank?”
Just then there bursts out a fearful yell, and figures come running towards us.
You sit crouched in your palanquin and repeat the names of the gods in prayer.
The bearers, shaking in terror, hide themselves in the thorny bush.
I shout to you, “Don’t be afraid, mother, I am here.”
With long sticks in their hands and hair all wild about their heads, they come nearer and nearer.
I shout, “Have a care! you villains! One step more and you are dead men.”
They give another terrible yell and rush forward.
You clutch my hand and say,
“Dear boy, for heaven’s sake, keep away from them.”
I say, “Mother, just you watch me.”
Then I spur my horse for a wild gallop, and my sword and buckler clash against each other.
The fight becomes so fearful, mother, that it would give you a cold shudder could you see it from your palanquin.
Many of them fly, and a great number are cut to pieces.
I know you are thinking, sitting all by yourself, that your boy must be dead by this time.
But I come to you all stained with blood, and say,
“Mother, the fight is over now.”
You come out and kiss me, pressing me to your heart, and you say to yourself,
“I don’t know what I should do if I hadn’t my boy to escort me.”
A thousand useless things happen day after day, and why couldn't such a thing come true by chance?
It would be like a story in a book.
My brother would say, “Is it possible? I always thought he was so delicate!”
Our village people would all say in amazement, “Was it not lucky that the boy was with his mother?”

祝 福

祝福這顆小小的心靈,這個純潔的靈魂為我們的大地,贏得了上天的親吻。
他愛陽光,他愛看媽媽的臉。
他還沒學會鄙夷塵埃而追求黃金。
將他緊緊地擁抱在你的心裡,並且祝福他。
他已經來到這個歧路橫生的大地上。
我不知道他怎樣從人群中把你挑出來,來到你的門前握住你的手問路。
他緊隨著你,說著,笑著,沒有一絲疑心。
不要辜負他的信任,引導他走向正路,並且祝福他。
將你的手輕輕按在他的頭上,祈禱著:雖然下面波濤洶湧,然而從上面來的風,會揚起他的船帆,將他送到平安的港口。


呼 喚
她離開時,夜一片漆黑,他們睡去了。
這會兒,夜也漆黑,我呼喚著她:
“回來,我的寶貝。世界在沉睡,當繁星兩兩相望時,你回來一會兒是沒有人知道的。”
她離開時,草木吐芽,春意正濃。
這會兒,花兒正怒放,我呼喚著:“回來,我的寶貝。孩子們毫無顧忌地在遊戲中把花兒聚散離合,你若回來,帶走一朵小花,沒有

人會發現的。”
那些常常嬉戲的人,還在那裡玩耍,生命就這樣被荒廢了。
我聆聽著他們的閒聊,呼喚著:“回來,我的寶貝。媽媽的心裡充滿著愛,你若回來,只從她那裡取得一個小小的吻,沒有人會妒忌的。”


The Recall
The night was dark when she went away, and they slept.
The night is dark now, and I call for her,
“Come back, my darling; the world is asleep; and no one would know, if you came for a moment while stars are gazing at stars.”
She went away when the trees were in bud and the spring was young.
Now the flowers are in high bloom and I call,“Come back, my darling. The children gather and scatter flowers in reckless sport. And if you come and take one little blossom no one will miss it.”
Those that used to play are playing still, so spendthrift is life.
I listen to their chatter and call, “Come back, my darling, for mother’s heart is full to the brim with love, and

if you come to snatch only one little kiss from her no one will grudge it.”

最初的茉莉

啊,這些茉莉,這些潔白的茉莉!
我依稀記得我的雙手第一次捧滿了這些茉莉花,這些潔白的茉莉花的時候。
我曾愛那陽光,愛那天空和那綠色的大地;
我曾在漆黑的午夜聆聽那河水淙淙的呢喃;
秋日的夕陽,在荒原道路的轉彎處迎接我,好像新娘掀起她的面紗迎接她的愛人。
然而,我回憶起孩提時第一次捧在手裡的潔白茉莉,心裡充滿了甜蜜的回憶。
我平生有過許多快樂的日子,在節日盛典的夜晚,我曾與狂歡者一同大笑。
在細雨霏霏的清晨,我吟唱過許多閒散的歌謠。
我的頸上也曾戴著愛人用手織就的“芭庫拉絲”黃昏花環。
然而,我回憶起孩提時第一次捧在手裡的潔白茉莉,心裡充滿了甜蜜的回憶。

The First Jasmines
All, these jasmines, these white jasmines!
I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands with these jasmines, these white jasmines.
I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earth;
I have heard the liquid murmur of the river through the darkness of midnight;
Autumn sunsets have come to me at the bend of a road in the lonely waste, like a bride raising her veil to accept

her lover.
Yet my memory is still sweet with the first white jasmines that I held in my hand when I was a child.
Many a glad day has come in my life, and I have laughed with merrymakers on festival nights.
On grey mornings of rain I have crooned many an idle song.
I have worn round my neck the evening wreath of bakulas woven by the hand of love.
Yet my heart is sweet with the memory of the first fresh jasmines that filled my hands when I was a child.

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