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 come 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.”
召唤
她走的时候，夜间黑漆漆的，他们都睡了。
现在，夜间也是黑漆漆的，我唤她道：“回来，我的宝贝；世界都在沉睡；当星星互相凝视的时候，你来一会儿是没有人知道的。”
她走的时候，树木正在萌芽，春光刚刚来到。
现在花已盛开，我唤道：“回来，我的宝贝。孩子们漫不经心地在游戏，把花聚在一块，又把它们散开。你如果走来，拿一朵小花去，没有人会发觉的。”
那些常常在游戏的人，仍然还在那里游戏，生命总是如此地浪费。
我静听他们的空谈，便唤道：“回来，我的宝贝，妈妈的心里充满着爱，你如果走来，仅仅从她那里接一个小小的吻，没有人会妒忌的。”
THE FIRST JASMINES
Ah, 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.
第一次的茉莉
呵，这些茉莉花，这些白的茉莉花！
我仿佛记得我第一次双手满捧着这些茉莉花，这些白的茉莉花的时候。
我喜爱那日光，那天空，那绿色的大地；
我听见那河水淙淙的流声，在漆黑的午夜里传过来；
秋天的夕阳，在荒原上大路转角处迎我，如新妇揭起她的面纱迎接她的爱人。
但我想起孩提时第一次捧在手里的白茉莉，心里充满着甜蜜的回忆。
我生平看过许多快活的日子。在节日宴会的晚上，我曾跟着说笑话的人大笑。
在灰暗的雨天的早晨，我吟哦过许多飘逸的诗篇。
我颈上戴过爱人手织的醉花的花圈，作为晚装。
但我想起孩提时第一次捧在手里的白茉莉，心里充满着甜蜜的回忆。
THE BANYAN TREE
O, you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond, have you forgotten the little child, like the birds that have nested in your branches and left you?
Do you not remember how he sat at the window and wondered at the tangle of your roots that plunged underground?
The women would come to fill their jars in the pond, and your huge black shadow would wriggle on the water like sleep struggling to wake up.
Sunlight danced on the ripples like restless tiny shuttles weaving golden tapestry.
Two ducks swam by the weedy margin above their shadows, and the child would sit still and think.
He longed to be the wind and blow through your rustling branches, to be your shadow and lengthen with the day on the water, to be a bird and perch on your topmost twig, and to float like those ducks among the weeds and shadows.
榕树
喂，你站在池边的蓬头榕树，你可曾忘记了那小小的孩子，就像那在你的枝上筑巢又离开了你的鸟儿似的孩子？
你不记得他怎样坐在窗内，诧异地望着你那深入地下的纠缠的树根么？
妇人们常到池边，汲了满罐的水去。你的大黑影便在水面上摇动，好像睡着的人挣扎着要醒来似的。
日光在微波上跳舞，好像不停不息的小梭在织着金色的花毡。
两只鸭子挨着芦苇，在芦苇影子上游来游去，孩子静静地坐在那里想着。
他想做风，吹过你萧萧的枝杈；想做你的影子，在水面上，随了日光而俱长；想做一只鸟儿，栖息在你的最高枝上；还想做那两只鸭，在芦苇与阴影中间游来游去。
