Englsh Island

آموزش زبان

Rabindranath Tagore

1


When thou commandest me to sing

it seems that my heart

 would break with pride;

and I look to thy face,

 and tears come to my eyes.


All that is harsh and dissonant in my life

 melts into one sweet harmony

and my adoration spreads wings

like a glad bird on its flight across the sea.


I know thou takest pleasure in my singing.

I know that only as a singer

I come before thy presence.


I touch by the edge

of the far-spreading wings of my song

thy feet

 which I could never aspire to reach.


Drunk with the joy of singing

 I forget myself

and call thee friend

who art my lord.
 

2


I know not how thou singest,

 my master!

I ever listen in silent amazement.


The light of thy music illumines the world.

 The life breath of thy music

 runs from sky to sky.

 

The holy stream of thy music

breaks through all stony obstacles

 and rushes on.


My heart longs

to join in thy song,

but vainly struggles for a voice.

 

I would speak,

but speech breaks not into song,

 and I cry out baffled.

 

Ah, thou hast made my heart

 captive in the endless meshes

 of thy music, my master!

 


3

 


Life of my life,

 I shall ever try to keep

 my body pure,

knowing that thy living touch

 is upon all my limbs.


I shall ever try

 to keep all untruths

 out from my thoughts,

 knowing that thou art that truth

 which has kindled

the light of reason in my mind.


I shall ever try

to drive all evils away

 from my heart and

keep my love in flower,

 knowing that thou hast thy seat

 in the inmost shrine

of my heart.


And it shall be my endeavour

 to reveal thee in my actions,

 knowing it is thy power

 gives me strength to act.

 


4

 


I ask for a moment's indulgence

 to sit by thy side.

 The works that I have in hand

 I will finish afterwards.


Away from the sight of thy face

 my heart knows no rest nor respite,

 and my work becomes

 an endless toil

 in a shoreless sea of toil.


Today the summer has come

 at my window

with its sighs and murmurs;

and the bees are plying their minstrelsy

 at the court of the flowering grove.


Now it is time to sit quite,

 face to face with thee,

 and to sing dedication of life

 in this silent and overflowing leisure.
 

+ نوشته شده در  چهارشنبه یازدهم اسفند 1389ساعت 22:38  توسط پردیس  |