描述
开 本: 大32开纸 张: 胶版纸包 装: 精装是否套装: 否国际标准书号ISBN: 9787515900780
《我的心灵藏书馆：泰戈尔作品集（英文注释版）》是世界传世经典权威注释本的唯美呈现！原汁原味的著作阅读不再遥不可及！
★亚洲**位诺贝尔文学奖获得者的隽永诗作★驾驭神明与哲学双翼飞翔的诗人★飞鸟集、新月集、采果集，园丁集、吉檀迦科、流萤集
★北京外国语大学名师团队注释★资深翻译教授陈德彰寄语推荐★权威注释版让你“读懂”原著★英语学习者和文学爱好者的藏书之爱。
《我的心灵藏书馆：泰戈尔作品集（英文注释版）》是世界传世经典权威注释本的唯美呈现！原汁原味的著作阅读不再遥不可及！
◆权威版本，呈现原汁原味的英文名著。本套丛书大部分参考美国企鹅出版集团出版的“企鹅经典丛书”（Penguin Classics）和英国华兹华斯出版公司出版的世界名著系列（Wordsworth Classics）两种版本进行校对。力求为读者呈现*原汁原味的英文名著。
◆名师选编，本本畅销。本套丛书是由北京外国语大学资深教师从浩如烟海的名著世界中精选而出，并由资深翻译教授陈德彰寄语推荐。精选名著本本畅销，风靡世界数十年，尤其适合热爱英文原版名著的广大青年读者朋友阅读。
◆权威注释，精确理解原版英文名著。本套丛书特邀北京外国语大学资深教师名师团队注释。文化背景详细注释，词汇短语详细说明，包含所有4级以上的难点词汇，使阅读毫无障碍。另外对文中的长句、难句、复杂句进行了重点分析解释，并提供译文，使英语学习者读懂名著，理解名著，爱上名著。
◆“*美图书”设计师倾情打造，精装呈现名著之美。本套丛书特邀“*美图书”设计师进行封面设计，风格清雅脱俗。装帧精美，是广大外国名著爱好者值得收藏和分享的英语读物。
本诗选共有六个诗集：《飞鸟集》(Stray Birds，1916)、《新月集》(The
Crescent Moon，1913)、《园丁集》(The
Gardener，1913)、《采果集》(Fruit—Gatherin9，1916)、《吉檀迦利》(Gitanjdi，1910)和《流萤集》(Fire-flies，1928)。《飞鸟集》和《新月集》是以儿童生活和情趣为主旨的散文诗集；
《飞鸟集》是一部富于哲理的英文格言诗集，共收录325首诗，很多中国读者喜欢泰戈尔的诗都是从《飞鸟集》开始的，诗歌内容包罗万象，泰戈尔用清澈的文字描写大自然的激情，意象奇崛美妙，在字里行间表达出了对自然、宇宙和人生的哲理认识；
《新月集》是诗人重要的代表作之一，在诗歌里诗人将自己的灵魂穿织于诗章词篇里，使诗句充满了灵性的芬芳，读起来沁人心脾。《园丁集》融入了诗人青春时代的体验，细腻地描叙了爱情的幸福、烦恼与忧伤，被誉为是一部“生命之歌”。
《采果集》的语言充满激情，赞颂生命的伟大，语言清新，哲理隽永深沉，表达了诗人的世界观和人生观。
《吉檀迦利》是泰戈尔诗歌创作的*之作，这部宗教和哲学抒情诗集由103首诗歌组成，是能代表他思想观念和艺术风格的作品，孟加拉语的《吉檀迦利》是韵律诗，译成英文后成了自由体，在孟加拉语中“吉檀迦利”是“献诗”的意思，风格清新自然，以轻快、欢畅的笔调歌唱生命的枯荣、现实生活的欢乐和悲哀，表达了对祖国人民的热爱和对祖国前途的关怀，对20世纪世界文坛产生过深远而广泛的影响，已被译成40多种语言在世界各国流传。
《流萤集》歌颂那些如“萤火虫”一样微小而倔强勇敢的生命，语言清新自然，带给人们许多人生启示。泰戈尔的诗在印度享有史诗的地位，而他本人被许多印度教徒看作是一位圣人。
飞乌集
新月集
园丁集
采果集
吉檀迦利
流萤集
心灵的清澈，风格的优美和自然的激情，所有这一切都水乳交融，揭示出一种完整、深刻、罕见的精神美。
——1916年诺贝尔文学奖得主 海顿斯塔姆
每天读一句泰戈尔的诗，可以让我忘却世上一切苦痛。
——1923年诺贝尔文学奖得主 叶芝
泰戈尔！谢谢你以快美的诗情，救治我天赋的悲感；谢谢你以****的哲理，慰藉我心灵的寂寞。
——现代著名诗人、翻译家、儿童文学家 冰心
65
What divine drink wouldst thou have, my God, from this
overflowing cup of my life?
My poet,is it thy delight to see thy creation through my eyes and
to stand at the portals of my ears silently to listen to thine own
eternal harmony?
Thy world is weaving words in my mind and thy joy is adding-music
to them. Thou givest thyself to me in love and then feelest thine
own entire sweetness in me.
66
She who ever had remained in the depth of my being, in the
twilight of gleams and of glimpses; she who never opened her veils
in the morning light, will be my last gift to thee, my God, folded
in my final song.
Words have wooed yet failed to win her; persuasion has stretched
to her its eager arms in vain.
I have roamed from country to country keeping her in the core of
my heart, and around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay
of my life.
Over my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams, she reigned
yet dwelled alone and apart.
Many a man knocked at my door and asked for her and turned away
in despair.
There was none in the world who ever saw her face to face, and
she remained in her loneliness waiting for thy recognition.
67
Thou art the sky and thou art the nest as well.
O thou beautiful, there in the nest is thy love that encloses the
soul with colours and sounds and odours.
There comes the morning with the golden basket in her right hand
bearing the wreath of beauty, silently to crown the earth.
And there comes the evening over the lonely meadows deserted by
herds,through trackless paths, carrying cool draughts of peace in
her golden pitcher from the western ocean of rest.
But there, where spreads the infinite sky for the soul to take
her flight in, reigns the stainless white radiance. There is no day
nor night, nor form nor colour, and never, never a word.
68
Thy sunbeam comes upon this earth of mine with arms outstretched
and stands at my door the livelong day to carry back to thy feet
clouds made of my tears and sighs and songs.
With fond delight thou wrappest about thy starry breast that
mantle of misty cloud,turning it into numberless shapes and folds
and colouring it with hues ever changing.
It is so light and so fleeting, tender and tearful and dark, that
is why thou lovest it,0 thou spotless and serene. And that is why
it may cover thy awful white light with its pathetic shadows.
69
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the
earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous
waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of
life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my
blood this moment.
70
Is it beyond thee to be glad with the gladness of this rhythm? To
be tossed and lost and broken in the whirl of this fearful
joy?
All things rush on, they stop not, they look not behind, no power
can hold them back, they rush on.
Keeping steps with that restless, rapid music, seasons come
dancing and pass away-colours, tunes, and perfumes pour in endless
cascades in the abounding joy that scatters and gives up and dies
every moment.
……
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