园丁集 泰戈尔著 冰 心译
Title: The Gardener Author: Rabindranath Tagore


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    56
    
    I was one among many women busy with the obscure daily tasks of the household.
    Why did you single me out and bring me away from the cool shelter of our common life?
    Love unexpressed in sacred. It shines like gems in the gloom of the hidden heart. In the light of the curious day it looks pitifully dark.
    Ah, you broke through the cover of my heart and dragged my trembling love into the open place, destroying for ever the shady corner where it hid its nest.
    The other women are the same as ever.
    No one has peeped into their inmost being, and they themselves know not their own secret.
    Lightly they smile, and weep, chatter, and work. Daily they go to the temple, light their lamps, and fetch water from the river.
    I hoped my love would be saved from the shivering shame of the shelterless, but you turn your face away.
    Yes, your path lies open before you, but you have cut off my return, and left me stripped naked before the world with its lidless eyes staring night and day.
    

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