Gitanjali (Song Offerings) 吉檀迦利（献歌）选 罗宾德拉纳特·泰戈尔 রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুর（1861–1941） 1912 年 冷冻图书馆 · 开架书库 · S-004029 · https://coldlibrary.com/s/004029 权利：1912 年出版，英文为作者自译；作者卒于 1941 年。已按澳大利亚、欧盟、英国、中国大陆和美国的规则核对（截至 2026 年 10 月 11 日）。仅供参考，不是法律意见。 来源：Wikisource，https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Gitanjali（取于 2026-10-11） 中文译文：Claude（AI），2026 · CC0 1.0 生成于 2026-10-14，来自 https://coldlibrary.com/open-stacks/tagore-gitanjali-selection ---- 1 Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life. This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new. At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable. Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill. 5 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. To-day 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 quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure. 7 My song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me; their jingling would drown thy whispers. My poet’s vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music. 11 Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee! He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the path-maker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. Put off thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil! Deliverance? Where is this deliverance to be found? Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all for ever. Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense! What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained? Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow. 13 The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart. The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by. I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house. The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house. I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet. 60 On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets. The sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby’s cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships get wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children. 63 Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forget that there abides the old in the new, and that there also thou abidest. Through birth and death, in this world or in others, wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, the one companion of my endless life who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar. When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose the bliss of the touch of the one in the play of the many. 69 The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers. It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow. I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment. 82 Time is endless in thy hands, my lord. There is none to count thy minutes. Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers. Thou knowest how to wait. Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower. We have no time to lose, and having no time we must scramble for our chances. We are too poor to be late. And thus it is that time goes by while I give it to every querulous man who claims it, and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last. At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut; but I find that yet there is time. 103 In one salutation to thee, my God, let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet. Like a rain-cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed showers let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee. Let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single current and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee. Like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day back to their mountain nests let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home in one salutation to thee. ---- 中文译文 · Claude（AI）译 1 你使我无穷无尽，这是你的喜悦。这脆弱的器皿，你一次又一次把它倒空，又一次又一次用新的生命把它注满。 这支小小的芦笛，你带着它翻山越谷，从中吹出永远新鲜的曲调。 在你双手不朽的触摸下，我小小的心在喜悦中失去了边界，生出无法言说的言语。 你无穷的馈赠，只落在我这双很小的手里。许多世代过去了，你仍在倾注，而这双手仍有空处可以盛满。 5 请容我片刻，坐在你身旁。手头的工作，我以后再去做完。 见不到你的面容，我的心便没有安宁，也不得歇息，我的工作成了无边劳苦之海里一场无尽的劳苦。 今天，夏天带着它的叹息和低语来到我的窗前；蜜蜂在开花的树丛的宫廷里奏着它们的乐曲。 现在是时候了，静静地坐着，与你面对面，在这寂静而满溢的闲暇里，唱出生命的献礼。 7 我的歌卸下了她的装饰。她不再以衣饰为傲。饰物会妨碍我们的结合；它们会隔在你和我之间；它们的叮当声会淹没你的低语。 在你面前，我诗人的虚荣羞愧而死。哦，诗人之主，我已坐在你的脚下。只让我把生命变得简单而正直，像一支芦笛，让你用音乐把它注满。 11 别再唱诵、别再歌唱、别再数念珠了！在这门户紧闭、幽暗孤寂的神殿角落里，你在崇拜谁呢？睁开眼睛看吧，你的神不在你面前！ 他在农夫耕着坚硬土地的地方，在筑路人敲碎石头的地方。无论晴天雨天，他都和他们在一起，他的衣袍上沾满了尘土。脱下你神圣的斗篷，像他一样，到满是尘土的地上来吧！ 解脱？到哪里去找这解脱呢？我们的主自己已欢欢喜喜地担起了创造的束缚；他和我们所有的人永远捆在一起。 从你的冥想里出来吧，把你的花和香放在一边！你的衣服破了、脏了，又有什么妨碍呢？去迎接他，在劳作中、在额头的汗水里站在他身旁。 13 我来要唱的那首歌，直到今天还没有唱出。 我的日子都花在给我的琴上弦、又卸下弦上了。 时机还没有成熟，词句还没有配好；只有渴望的痛苦留在我心里。 花苞还没有开放；只有风叹息着吹过。 我没有见过他的面容，也没有听过他的声音；我只听见他轻轻的脚步声，从我屋前的路上走过。 漫长的一整天，都在为他在地上铺设座位中过去了；可是灯还没有点亮，我不能请他进我的屋。 我活在与他相会的希望里；可是这相会还没有到来。 60 孩子们在无边世界的海滨相会。无限的天空在头顶静止不动，不安的海水喧腾着。孩子们在无边世界的海滨相会，叫着，跳着舞。 他们用沙子盖房子，用空贝壳做游戏。他们用枯叶编成小船，笑着把它们放到浩瀚的深海上。孩子们在世界的海滨做着游戏。 他们不会游泳，他们不会撒网。采珠的人潜下去采珍珠，商人驾着船航行，孩子们却把石子捡起来，又把它们撒开。他们不寻找隐藏的宝藏，他们不会撒网。 大海笑着涌起，海滩的微笑闪着淡淡的光。带来死亡的波浪对孩子们唱着没有意义的歌谣，就像一位母亲摇着婴儿的摇篮。大海和孩子们一起玩耍，海滩的微笑闪着淡淡的光。 孩子们在无边世界的海滨相会。风暴在无路的天空中游荡，船只在无迹的海水中沉没，死亡就在近旁，孩子们却在玩耍。在无边世界的海滨，是孩子们盛大的聚会。 63 你让我结识了我不认识的朋友。你在不属于我的家中给了我座位。你把远方的拉近了，把陌生人变成了兄弟。 当我不得不离开住惯了的地方，我心里不安；我忘了旧的就住在新的之中，而你也住在那里。 无论生还是死，无论在这个世界还是别的世界，无论你领我到哪里，都是你，同一个你，我无尽生命中唯一的伴侣，总是用欢乐的纽带把我的心与陌生的事物连在一起。 一个人认识了你，就再没有异乡人，再没有关闭的门。哦，答应我的祈求吧，让我在万物的嬉戏中，永不失去那与一相触的至福。 69 日日夜夜在我血管里奔流的那同一股生命之流，也在世界中奔流，按着节拍舞蹈。 正是这同一个生命，从大地的尘土中欢欢喜喜地钻出无数草叶，又迸发成枝叶与花朵喧腾的波浪。 正是这同一个生命，在生与死的海洋摇篮里，随着潮涨潮落，被摇荡着。 我觉得我的四肢因这生命世界的触摸而变得光荣。而我的骄傲，来自此刻在我血液里舞蹈的万古生命的脉动。 82 时间在你手里是无穷的，我的主。没有人计算你的分秒。 昼夜流逝，世代像花一样开放又凋谢。你懂得怎样等待。 你的世纪一个接着一个，只为使一朵小小的野花臻于完美。 我们没有时间可以浪费，因为没有时间，我们必须去争抢机会。我们太穷了，不能迟到。 于是，时间就这样过去了，我把它给了每一个向我讨要它的牢骚满腹的人，而你的祭坛上，直到最后都空空如也，没有一件供品。 一天结束时，我匆匆赶来，生怕你的门已经关上；却发现还有时间。 103 在向你的一次致敬里，我的神，让我所有的感官都伸展开来，在你的脚下触摸这个世界。 像七月的雨云，低垂着，满载着未落的雨，让我整个心灵在你的门前俯身，在向你的一次致敬里。 让我所有的歌把它们各不相同的曲调汇成一股洪流，流向寂静的大海，在向你的一次致敬里。 像一群思乡的鹤，日夜飞回它们山中的巢，让我整个生命启程，驶向它永恒的家，在向你的一次致敬里。