我们一度梦见彼此是陌生人，醒来时发现彼此是相亲相爱的。
Once we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.
我的心是旷野的鸟，在你的眼睛里找到了它的天空。
My heart, the bird of the wilderness, has found its sky in your eyes.
它是大地的泪点，使她的微笑保持着青春不谢。
It is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom.

你看不见你自己，你所看见的只是你的影子。
What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow.
瀑布歌唱道：“当我找到了自己的自由时,我找到了我的歌。”
The waterfall sing, "I find my song, when I find my freedom."
你微微地笑着，不同我说什么话。而我觉得，为了这个，我已等待得久了。
You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long.


人不能在他的历史中表现出他自己，他在历史中奋斗着露出头角。
Man does not reveal himself in his history, he struggles up through it.
我们如海鸥之与波涛相遇似地，遇见了，走近了。海鸥飞去，波涛滚滚地流开，我们也分别了。 Like the meeting of the seagulls and the waves we meet and come near.The seagulls fly off, the waves roll away and we depart.
当我们是大为谦卑的时候，便是我们最接近伟大的时候。
We come nearest to the great when we are great in humility.

决不要害怕刹那－－永恒之声这样唱着。
Never be afraid of the moments--thus sings the voice of the everlasting.
"完全"为了对"不全"的爱，把自己装饰得美丽。
The perfect decks itself in beauty for the love of the Imperfect.
错误经不起失败，但是真理却不怕失败。
Wrong cannot afford defeat but right can.
这寡独的黄昏，幕着雾与雨，我在我的心的孤寂里，感觉到它的叹息。
In my solitude of heart I feel the sigh of this widowed evening veiled with mist and rain.

我们把世界看错了，反说它欺骗我们。
We read the world wrong and say that it deceives us.
人对他自己建筑起堤防来。
Man barricades against himself.
使生如夏花之绚烂，死如秋叶之静美。
Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.
我想起了其他的浮泛在生与死与爱以及被遗忘的川流上的时代，我便感觉到离开尘世的自由了。
思想掠过我的心上，如一群野鸭飞过天空。我听见它们鼓翼之声了。
Thoughts pass in my mind like flocks of lucks in the sky.I hear the voice of their wings.

"谁如命运似的催着我向前走呢？""那是我自己，在身背后大跨步走着。"
Who drives me forward like fate？The Myself striding on my back.
我们的欲望把彩虹的颜色借给那只不过是云雾的人生。
Our desire lends the colours of the rainbow to the mere mists and vapours of life.
夏天的飞鸟，飞到我窗前唱歌，又飞去了。 秋天的黄叶，他们没有什么可唱的，只是叹息一声，飞落在那里。
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 sigh.

伟大的沙漠为了绿叶的爱而燃烧，而她摇摇头、笑着、飞走了。
The mighty desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away.
跳着舞的流水啊！当你途中的泥沙为你的歌声和流动哀求时， 你可愿意担起他们跛足的重担？ The sands in you way beg for your song and your movement,dancing water.Will you carry the burden of their lameness?
忧愁在我心中沉寂平静，正如黄昏在寂静的林中。
Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening among the silent trees.
我不能选择那最好的，是那最好的选择我。
I cannot choose the best. The best chooses me.

把灯笼背在背上的人，有黑影遮住前路。
They throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on their back.
休息隶属于工作，正如眼睑隶属于眼睛。
Rest belongs to the work as the eyelids to the eyes.
群星不会因为像萤火虫而怯于出现。
the stars are not afraid to appear like fireflies.
麻雀因孔雀驮着翎尾而替它担忧。
The sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of its tail.


瀑布歌唱着：「虽然渴者只需少许水便足够，我却乐意给与我的全部」
“I give my whole water in joy,“ sings the waterfall, '' though little of it is enough for the thirsty.''
樵夫的斧头向树要柄，树便给了它。
The woodcutter's axe begged for its handle from tree, the tree gave it.
想要行善的人在门外敲着门；爱人的，看见门是敞开的。
He who wants to do good knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the gate open.
剑鞘保护剑的锋利，自己却满足于它自己的迟钝。
The scabbard is content to be dull when it protects the keenness of the sword.

白云谦卑地站在天边，晨光给它披上壮丽的光彩。
The cloud stood humbly in a corner of the sky, The morning crowned it with splendour.
尘土承受屈辱，却以鲜花来回报。
The dust receives insult and in return offers her flowers.
当富贵利达的人夸说他得到上帝的恩惠时，上帝却羞了。
God is ashamed when the prosperous boasts of his special favour.
使卵石臻于完美的，并非锤的打击，而是水的且歌且舞。
Not hammer-strokes, but dance of the water sings the pebbles into perfection.

上帝的大能在柔和的微风中，不在狂风暴雨中。
God's great power is in the gentle breeze, not in the storm.
采撷花瓣得不着花的美丽。
By plucking her petals you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
大的不怕与小的同游，居中的却远避之。
The great walks with the small without fear. The middling keeps aloof.
萤火虫对群星说：「学者说你的光有一天会熄灭。」群星不回答它。 ''
The learned say that your lights will one day be no more.'' said the firefly to the stars.The stars made no answer.

这张泰戈尔画像好像是他访华时徐悲鸿大师绘制的，我记得在《徐悲鸿传》中有见过这幅画。

泰戈尔的诗还是不错的。在加尔各答时忘了去他的故居参观下。

印度人怎么看泰戈尔的？