
跳蚤
看这跳蚤,记住这个了,
你对我的拒绝却微不足我道;
它叮了我,又将你叮咬,
将我们的血液在它体内融消;
你知道有些话无法言语,
罪恶、羞耻或处女贞操的失去,
而这家伙啥也没求就享受所有得到,
吸了血被宠爱得挺着大腹逍遥,
而我们却无法像它那般做到。
且住,一只跳蚤联着三条生命呵,
它是我们婚姻的见证。
它、你和我,
以及我们的婚床,结婚的殿堂;
父母怨恨,你有怨词,我们还是相遇了,
并躲在活生生黝黑的四墙内幽居着。
尽管你惯于杀死跳蚤,
那也等于杀了我,
切莫如此,那于你也是罪杀自我,
杀死三人这三大罪过也是渎神之错。
你那般残忍,毫无迟疑,
你的指甲鲜红沾满无辜者的血滴;
这跳蚤又是何罪之有呢?
它只不过吸你的血了;
你虽因胜利而得意着,
却发现你我都不是弱者;
是的,担心徒留虚惊一场:
当接受了我,
你的名誉还是如此之多,
可这跳蚤之死会影响你的生活
也会有损于你的名誉的。
--翻译by夜莺儿
原 文--
The Flea
Mark but this flea,
and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
Me is sucked first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, or a shame, or loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this ,alas, is more than we would do.
Oh
stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, nay more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed and marriage temple is;
Though parents grudge, and you, we are met.
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me
Let not to that, self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?
Yet thou triumph’st and sy’st that thou
Find’st not thy self nor me the weaker now;
“Tis true; then learn how false fears be;
Just so much honor, when you yield‘st to me.
Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.

外一首--翻译朋友如烟的诗歌

每当蓝色涂满月亮
诗歌
星光轻轻
树叶微颤
我
点一支淡淡的烛光
温柔却躲进深深的云心
双眸莹莹
不意作悲剧的奴役
即便
潘神将笛乐狂鸣
宁芙们的舞步乱了阵营
无欲轻去云端处俯望
野兽与蛇蝎都已悄行暗闯
午夜
高歌的人不屑做低等的表演
掘墓者不流噬尸者的哀泪
愉悦
当恐惧用镇威控制了四邻
却
我歌若行板
缪斯将我的长短句一并收割
Blue Moon Nights, Songs are Andantes
As the blue paints the moon,
Lyrics surge high in mid-night gloom.
Starlight floating whilst birds murmuring.
Leaves shivering whilst insects singing.
A few music notes I uttering
with a little candlelight shinning.
Thick clouds hide the tender feeling the lot.
Tears’ glistening overflows my sadness for a thought.
A slave of tragedy isn’t my intent.
aLthough, the forest holds a sad music event.
Pan plays the pipe madly
And nymphs dance so badly.
Beasts and snakes creeping with little sound very loud.
No mid-night belongs to one wolf’s howl.
Neither does a proud man play his shows with flaw.
Gravediggers shed no sad tears of ghouls.
The red flag in happiness hands when corpses collapse.
Could horror with power terrorize my neighbors,
this heart of mine
My songs are andantes flowing like rivers.
My lyrics harvested by Muses,
long or short wins all concerns.

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