榕树

嘿，你这站在池塘边
枝杈蓬乱的榕树呦
你忘记了那个小孩吗
像鸟儿一样 在你枝上筑巢
又离开了你的那个小孩

你不记得
他怎么坐在窗前
诧异地望着 你的身躯
盘根错节的深入地下吗

女人们到池塘边
装满她们的水罐
你庞大的身影
在水面上蠕动
犹如挣扎不醒的呓梦

阳光在粼粼水波上跳跃
犹如小小的梭子
不知疲倦地编织着
金色的锦绣

水草的阴影上
两只鸭子游来游去
孩子坐着
静静地沉思

他多想变成风
吹过你沙沙响的树枝
想变成你的身影
在水面上 随着日落斜长

变成一只小鸟
栖于你最高的枝桠
或者是那些鸭子
在水草和树影间游弋

（翻译自泰戈尔《新月集》）

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.