THE HERO
Mother, let us imagine we are travelling and passing through a strange and dangerous country.
You are riding in a palanquin and I am trotting by you on a red horse.
It is evening and the sun goes down. The waste of Joradighi lies wan and grey before us. The land is desolate and barren.
You are frightened and thinking —“I know not where we have come to.”
I say to you, “Mother, do not be afraid.”
The meadow is prickly with spiky grass, and through it runs a narrow broken path.
There are no cattle to be seen in the wide field; they have gone to their village stalls.
It grows dark and dim on the land and sky, and we cannot tell where we are going.
Suddenly you call me and ask me in a whisper, “What light is that near the bank?”
Just then there bursts out a fearful yell, and figures come running towards us.
You sit crouched in your palanquin and repeat the names of the gods in prayer.
The bearers, shaking in terror, hide themselves in the thorny bush.
I shout to you, “Don't be afraid, mother, I am here.”
With long sticks in their hands and hair all wild about their heads, they come nearer and nearer.
I shout, “Have a care! You villains! One step more and you are dead men.”
They give another terrible yell and rush forward.
You clutch my hand and say, “Dear boy, for heaven's sake, keep away from them.”
I say, “Mother, just you watch me.”
Then I spur my horse for a wild gallop, and my sword and buckler clash against each other.
The fight becomes so fearful, mother, that it would give you a cold shudder could you see it from your palanquin.
Many of them fly, and a great number are cut to pieces.
I know you are thinking, sitting all by yourself, that your boy must be dead by this time.
But I come to you all stained with blood, and say, “Mother, the fight is over now.”
You come out and kiss me, pressing me to your heart, and you say to yourself,
“I don't know what I should do if I hadn't my boy to escort me.”
A thousand useless things happen day after day, and why couldn't such a thing come true by chance?
It would be like a story in a book.
My brother would say, “Is it possible? I always thought he was so delicate!”
Our village people would all say in amazement, “Was it not lucky that the boy was with his mother?”
英雄
妈妈，让我们想象我们正在旅行，经过一个陌生而危险的国土。
你坐在一顶轿子里，我骑着一匹红马，在你旁边跑着。
是黄昏的时候，太阳已经下山了。约拉地希的荒地疲乏而灰暗地展开在我们面前。大地是凄凉而荒芜的。
你害怕了，想道——“我不知道我们到了什么地方了。”
我对你说道：“妈妈，不要害怕。”
草地上刺蓬蓬地长着针尖似的草，一条狭而崎岖的小道通过这块草地。
在这片广大的地面上看不见一只牛；它们已经回到它们村里的牛棚里去了。
天色黑了下来，大地和天空都显得朦朦胧胧的，而我们不能说出我们正走向什么所在。
突然间，你叫我，悄悄地问我道：“靠近河岸的是什么火光呀？”
正在那个时候，一阵可怕的呐喊声爆发了，好些人影子向我们跑过来。
你蹲坐在你的轿子里，嘴里反复地祷念着神的名字。
轿夫们，怕得发抖，躲藏在荆棘丛中。
我向你喊道：“不要害怕，妈妈，有我在这里。”
他们手里执着长棒，头发披散着，越走越近了。
我喊道：“要当心！你们这些坏蛋！再向前走一步，你们就要送命了。”
他们又发出一阵可怕的呐喊声，向前冲过来。
你抓住我的手，说道：“好孩子，看在上天面上，躲开他们罢。”
我说道：“妈妈，你瞧我的。”
于是我刺策着我的马匹，猛奔过去，我的剑和盾彼此碰着作响。
这一场战斗是那么激烈，妈妈，如果你从轿子里看得见的话，你一定会发冷战的。
他们之中，许多人逃走了，还有好些人被砍杀了。
我知道你那时独自坐在那里，心里正在想着，你的孩子这时候一定已经死了。
但是我跑到你的跟前，浑身溅满了鲜血，说道：“妈妈，现在战争已经结束了。”
你从轿子里走出来，吻着我，把我搂在你的心头，你自言自语地说道：
“如果没有我的孩子护送我，我简直不知道怎么办才好。”
一千件无聊的事天天在发生，为什么这样一件事不能够偶然实现呢？
这很像一本书里的一个故事。
我的哥哥要说道：“这是可能的事么？我老是想，他是那么嫩弱呢！”
我们村里的人们都要惊讶地说道：“这孩子正和他妈妈在一起，这不是很幸运么？”
THE END
It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.
When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn you stretch out your arms for your baby in the bed, I shall say, “Baby is not there!”—mother, I am going.
I shall become a delicate draught of air and caress you; and I shall be ripples in the water when you bathe, and kiss you and kiss you again.
In the gusty night when the rain patters on the leaves you will hear my whisper in your bed, and my laughter will flash with the lightning through the open window into your room.
If you lie awake, thinking of your baby till late into the night, I shall sing to you from the stars, “Sleep, mother, sleep.”
On the straying moonbeams I shall steal over your bed, and lie upon your bosom while you sleep.
I shall become a dream, and through the little opening of your eyelids I shall slip into the depths of your sleep, and when you wake up and look round startled, like a twinkling firefly I shall flit out into the darkness.
When, on the great festival of puja, the neighbours' children come and play about the house, I shall melt into the music of the flute and throb in your heart all day.
Dear auntie will come with puja-presents and will ask, “Where is our baby, sister?” Mother, you will tell her softly, “He is in the pupils of my eyes, he is in my body and in my soul.”
告别
是我走的时候了，妈妈，我走了。
当清寂的黎明，你在暗中伸出双臂，要抱你睡在床上的孩子时，我要说道：“孩子不在那里呀！”——妈妈，我走了。
我要变成一股清风抚摸着你；我要变成水中的涟漪，当你浴时，把你吻了又吻。
大风之夜，当雨点在树叶上淅沥时，你在床上会听见我的微语；当电光从开着的窗口闪进你的屋里时，我的笑声也偕了他一同闪进了。
如果你醒着躺在床上，想你的孩子直到深夜，我便要从星空向你唱道：“睡呀！妈妈，睡呀。”
我要坐在各处游荡的月光上，偷偷地来到你的床上，乘你睡着时，躺在你的胸上。
我要变成一个梦儿，从你眼皮的微缝中钻到你的睡眠的深处。当你醒来吃惊地四望时，我便如闪耀的萤火似的，熠熠地向暗中飞去了。
当杜尔伽节，邻家的孩子们来屋里游玩时，我便要融化在笛声里，整日价在你心头震荡。
亲爱的阿姨带了杜尔伽节礼物来，问道：“我们的孩子在哪里，姊姊？”妈妈，你将要柔声地告诉她：“他呀，他现在是在我的瞳仁里，他现在是在我的身体里，在我的灵魂里。”
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