新月集 作者:泰戈尔
The Crescent Moon By Rabindranath Tagore


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    18.THE RAINY DAY
    
    SULLEN clouds are gathering fast over the black fringe of the forest.
    O child, do not go out!
    The palm trees in a row by the lake are smiting their heads against the dismal sky; the crows with their draggled wings are silent on the tamarind branches, and the eastern bank of the river is haunted by a deepening gloom.
    Our cow is lowing loud, tied at the fence.
    O child, wait here till I bring her into the stall.
    Men have crowded into the flooded field to catch the fishes as they escape from the overflowing ponds; the rain water is running in rills through the narrow lanes like a laughing boy who has run away from his mother to tease her.
    Listen, someone is shouting for the boatman at the ford.
    O child, the daylight is dim, and the crossing at the ferry is closed.
    The sky seems to ride fast upon the madly-rushing rain; the water in the river is loud and impatient; women have hastened home early from the Ganges with their filled pitchers.
    The evening lamps must be made ready.
    O child, do not go out!
    The road to the market is desolate, the lane to the river is slippery. The wind is roaring and struggling among the bamboo branches like a wild beast tangled in a net.
    

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