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 ripple like
restless tiny shuttles weaving golden tapestry.   Two ducks swam by the woody 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. 

Rabindranath Tagore               你這站立在池塘邊的蓬頭榕樹， 你是否已忘記那個孩子， 曾像鳥兒一樣在你的枝桠間做巢後又離你而去？   你可記得他怎樣坐在窗前， 驚歎你那些鑽入地底蔓生的根？   村婦們到池塘來汲滿水罐， 而你那巨大的黑影便會在水面上晃動， 仿彿是掙圠著要從熟睡中醒過來．   陽光在漣漪上舞蹈， 像不停息的細小金梭在紡織金燦燦的掛毯。   水草邊兩只鴨子在它們的倒影上暢游， 而那個孩子仍靜坐著遐想。   他渴望化作清風， 掠過你沙沙作響的枝杈； 想變成你的影子， 在水面上和日光一起展延； 願成為一只鳥兒棲息在你頂上的梢頭； 或像那些鴨子一樣漂蕩在水草與倒影之間。

泰戈爾