读点好英文:The Crescent Moon 新月
The Crescent Moon 新月
Rabindranath Tagore
The Home
I paced alone on the road across the field while the sunset was hiding its last gold like a miser.
The daylight sank deeper and deeper into the darkness, and the widowed land, whose harvest had been reaped, lay silent.
Suddenly a boy's shrill voice rose into the sky. He traversed the dark unseen, leaving the track of his song across the hush of the evening.
His village home lay there at the end of the waste land, beyond the sugarcane field, hidden among the shadows of the banana and the slender areca palm, the coconut and the dark green jack-fruit trees.
I stopped for a moment in my lonely way under the starlight, and saw spread before me the darkened earth surrounding with her arms countless homes furnished with cradles and beds, mothers' hearts and evening lamps, and young lives glad with a gladness that knows nothing of its value for the world.
The Beginning
Where have I come from, where did you pick me up? the baby asked its 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 and 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, twin-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?
The Further Bank
I long to go over there to the further bank of the river.
Where those boats are tied to the bamboo poles in a line;
Where men cross over in their boats in the morning with ploughs on their shoulders to till their far-away fields.
Where the cowherds make their lowing cattle swim across to the riverside pasture; Whence they all come back home in the evening, leaving the jackals to howl in the island overgrown with weeds.
Mother, if you don't mind, I should like to become the boatman of the ferry when I am grown up.
They say there are strange pools hidden behind that high bank.
Where flocks of wild ducks come when the rains are over, and thick reeds grow round the margins where water-birds lay their eggs;
Where snipes with their dancing tails stamp their tiny footprints upon the clean soft mud;
Where in the evening the tall grasses crested with white flowers invite the moonbeam to float upon their waves.
Mother, if you don't mind, I should like to become the boatman of the ferryboat when I am grown up.
I shall cross and cross back from bank to bank, and all the boys and girls of the village will wonder at me while they are bathing.
When the sun climbs the mid sky and morning wears on to noon, I shall come running to you, saying "Mother, I am hungry!"
When the day is done and the shadows cower under the trees, I shall come back in the dusk.
I shall never go away from you into the town to work like father.
Mother, if you don't mind, I should like to become the boatman of the ferryboat when I am grown up.
Sympathy
If I were only a little puppy, not your baby, mother dear, would you say "No" to me if I tried to eat from your dish?
Would you drive me off, saying to me, "Get away, you naughty little puppy?"
Then go, mother, go! I will never come to you when you call me, and never let you feed me any more.
If I were only a little green parrot, and not your baby, mother dear, would you keep me chained lest I should fly away?
Would you shake your linger at me and say, "What an ungrateful wretch of a bird! It is gnawing at its chain day and night."
Then go, mother, go! I will run away into the woods; I will never let you take me in your arms again.
新月
［印度］罗宾德纳特·泰戈尔
家
我独自在横跨过田地的小路上走着，夕阳像一个吝啬鬼，正藏起它最后的一点金光。
白昼渐渐地没入深深的黑暗之中，那收割后的田野孤寂、沉默地躺在那里。
天空突然被一个男孩子尖锐的歌声划破，他穿过黑暗，留下歌声回荡在静谧的黄昏里。
他的家就在荒地边缘的村落里，在甘蔗田的后面，藏在香蕉树、瘦长的槟榔树、椰子树和深绿色的榴莲的阴影里。
星光下，我在独自行走，途中停留了片刻，看着黄澄澄的大地展开在我面前，正用她的双臂拥抱着无数的家庭，在那里有摇篮和床铺，有母亲们的爱心和夜晚的灯光，还有年幼的生命，他们满心欢乐，却浑然不知这样的欢乐对于世界的价值。
开始
“我是从哪里来的，您在哪里把我捡起来的？”孩子问他的妈妈。
她把孩子紧紧地搂在胸前，似哭似笑地答道：“你曾被我当做心愿藏在我的心里，我的宝贝。”
“你曾藏在我孩童时玩的泥娃娃身上；每天早晨我用泥土塑造我的神像，那时我反复地将你塑造又捏碎。”
“你曾和我们家的守护神一同受祀奉，我崇拜家神时也就崇拜了你。”
“你曾活在我所有的希望和爱里，活在我的生命里，活在我母亲的生命里。”
“在支配着我们家庭的不朽“精神”的膝上，你已经被抚育了好几代了。”
“当我在女孩时代时，我的心如花瓣儿张开，你就像一股花香似的散发出来。”
“你柔软的温柔，在我青春的肢体上开花了，像太阳出来之前划过天空的第一道曙光。”
“上天的第一宠儿与晨曦一同降临，你沿着世界生命的溪流而下，终于停泊在我的心头。”
“当我凝视你的脸时，神秘之感震撼着我，原属于一切人的你，竟成了我的。”
“为了怕失去你，我把你紧紧地拥在怀里。是什么魔术把这世界的宝贝引到我这纤弱的手臂中的呢？”
对岸
我渴想到那个地方，河的对岸去。
在那边，那些船儿排成一行系在竹竿上；
早晨人们乘船到那边去，肩上扛着锄头，到他们远处的田中去耕耘。
在那边，放牛的人赶着他们的牛群涉水到对岸的牧场；
黄昏，他们都回家了，只留下豺狼在这长满野草的岛上哀叫。
妈妈，如果您不介意，我长大后，要当这渡船的船夫。
有人说在这个高岸的后面藏着许多古怪的池塘。
雨过后，一群群的野鸭飞到那里去，茂盛的芦苇长满了池塘的四周，水鸟在那里生蛋；
沙锥（一种鸟）摇着会跳舞的尾巴，在洁净的软泥上印下它们细小的足印；
黄昏时，长草顶着白花，邀月光在长草的波浪上漂荡。
妈妈，如果您不介意，我长大后，要当这渡船的船夫。
我要从此岸到彼岸，渡来渡去，村里所有正在沐浴的男孩女孩，都要诧异地望着我。
太阳升到半空，早晨变为正午，我会跑到您那里去，说道：“妈妈，我饿了！”
一天结束了，影子俯伏在树底下，我会在黄昏时回家来。
我一定不会像爸爸那样，离开你到城里去工作。
妈妈，如果您不介意，我长大后，一定要当这渡船的船夫。
同情
假如我只是一只小狗，而不是您的小孩，亲爱的妈妈，当我想吃您盘子里的东西时，您会不会向我说“不”？
您是不是会把我赶开，对我说道：“滚开，你这淘气的小狗？”
那么走吧！妈妈，我走了。当您喊我的时候，我再也不到您那里去了，也永远不再要您喂东西给我吃了。
如果我只是一只绿色的小鹦鹉，而不是您的小孩，亲爱的妈妈，您会把我紧紧地锁住以防我飞走吗？
您是不是会对我指指点点说：“真是一个不知感恩的贱鸟呀！整天只知道咬它的链子。”
那么走吧！妈妈，我走了。我要到树林里去，我绝不再让您抱我入怀了。
实战提升
Practising & Exercise
导读
罗宾德拉纳特·泰戈尔（Rabindranath Tagore），印度著名诗人、作家、艺术家、社会活动家、哲学家和印度民族主义者。他生于加尔各答市一个有深厚文化教养的家庭，属于婆罗门种姓。他于1913年凭借宗教抒情诗《吉檀迦利》获得诺贝尔文学奖，是首位获此殊荣的印度人。他与黎巴嫩诗人纪·哈·纪伯伦齐名，并称为“站在东西方文化桥梁的两位巨人”。
《家》选自泰戈尔著名的《新月集》。在这篇文章中，作者为我们塑造了一个迷人的儿童世界。他致力讴歌的是人类生活中最为宝贵的——童真，他以天才之笔塑造了一批神形兼备的天使般的儿童艺术形象。
核心单词
miser [ˈmaizə] n. 吝啬鬼；守财奴
areca [æˈrikə] n. 【植】槟榔树；槟榔
enshrine [inˈʃrain] v. 珍藏；铭记
ferry [ˈferi] n. 摆渡；渡轮
puppy [ˈpʌpi] n. 小狗，幼犬
naughty [ˈnɔːti] adj. 顽皮的，淘气的；撒野的
翻译
Mother, if you don't mind, I should like to become the boatman of the ferryboat when I am grown up.
Would you drive me off, saying to me, "Get away, you naughty little puppy?"
Then go, mother, go! I will run away into the woods; I will never let you take me in your arms again.
