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《初雪》四篇之一 朗费罗

(2009-03-24 01:04:00)
标签:

杂谈

分类: 东翻西翻

以前教公选课的时候译的。请多指教。

The First Snow

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 The first snow came. How beautiful it was, falling so silently all day long, all night long, on the mountains, on the meadows, on the roofs of the living, on the graves of the dead. All white save the river, that marked its course by a winding black line across the landscape; and the leafless trees, that against the leaden sky now revealed more fully the wonderful beauty and intricacies of their branches. What silence, too, came with the snow, and what seclusion! Every sound was muffled, every noise changed to something soft and musical. No more tramping hoofs, no more rattling wheels! Only the chiming of sleigh-bells, beating as swift and merrily as the hearts of children.

初雪

 亨利·华兹华斯·朗费罗

初雪飘临,多美呀!整日整夜,雪花都在静静地飘洒,飘落在山岗上,飘落在草地上,飘落在人们的屋顶上,也飘落在死者的坟墓上。 一片银亮雪世界!惟有蜿蜒的河道在白茫茫大地上印下一道弯弯的黑线。铅灰色的天空下,那些叶儿落尽的树木显现出它们的枝丫原来是如此错落有致,精妙美丽。雪中的世界静谧无比 ,所有的喧嚣都沉寂了,所有的声音似乎都那么柔和悦耳。听不到马蹄得得,听不到车轮辚辚,只闻雪橇铃儿叮当和鸣,如同孩子们心房欢快的律动。


这其实只是节选,选自
Kavanagh : A Tale (1849)。下面是更长一点的节选。昨天晚上译的。
Ah, how wonderful is the advent of the spring!— the great annual miracle of the blossoming of Aaron’s rod, repeated on myriads and myriads of branches! —the gentle progression and growth of herbs, flowers, trees,—gentle, and yet irrepressible,— which no force can stay, no violence restrain, like love, that wins its way and cannot be withstood by any human power, because itself is divine power. If spring came but once a century, instead of once a year, or burst forth with a sound of an earthquake and not in silence, what wonder and expectation would there be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change! But now the silent succession suggests nothing but necessity. To most men, only the cessation of the miracle would be miraculous, and the perpetual exercise of God’s power seems less wonderful than its withdrawal would be. We are like children who are astonished and delighted only by the second-hand of the clock, not by the hour-hand.

啊,春日来临,多么美妙!抽芽吐绿,蓓蕾绽放,这一年一度的盛景在原本光秃秃的树枝上一再呈现。花草树木,舒缓地成长,然而却不可抑制,不可阻止。就像爱情,情不自禁,非人力可以抵挡,因为它本身就是一种神力。要是春天不是一年一度,而是100年才光临一次,或者不是静悄悄而来,而是发出地动山“愕木尴炫绫《觯嗣强吹秸馐兰淦婷畹谋浠檬浅渎蔚鹊钠谂危只崾呛蔚鹊木姘 5窍衷冢馇奈奚⒌募窘诟嫒萌司醯弥皇且恢直厝唬俨欢嘞搿6源蠖嗍死此担ㄓ姓獯笞匀坏钠婕M蝗恢兄鼓遣攀橇钊顺破娴模系壅庋啦煌O⒌厥┱顾哪Хㄋ坪醪⒉蝗缢蝗皇栈卣庵帜Х敲瓷衿妗N颐蔷拖裥『⒆右谎挥惺敝由系拿胝肴梦颐蔷玻允闭肴次薅谥浴

In the fields and woods, meanwhile, there were other signs and signals of the summer. The darkening foliage; the embrowning grain; the golden dragonfly haunting the blackberry bushes; the cawing crows, that looked down from the mountain on the cornfield, and waited day after day for the scarecrow to finish his work and depart; and the smoke of far-off burning woods, that pervaded the air and hung in purple haze about the summits of the mountains, —these were the vaunt-couriers and attendants of the hot August.

与此同时,田野上,树林间,已经发出夏日即将来临的信号,露出夏日的征兆。树叶开始变成深绿,麦穗开始变黄。黑刺莓丛上金色的蜻蜓轻舞飞扬。山上乌鸦呱呱乱叫,俯瞰着麦田,日复一日盼望着稻草人早点滚蛋。远处燃烧的树林发出一股浓烟,弥漫在空中,变成一团紫烟挂在山顶。这些就是炎热八月的招摇的信使和仆从。

The brown autumn came. Out of doors, it brought to the fields the prodigality of the golden harvest,— to the forest, revelations of light,—and to the sky, the sharp air, the morning mist, the red clouds at evening. Within doors, the sense of seclusion, the stillness of closed and curtained windows, musings by the fireside, books, friends, conversation, and the long, meditative evenings. To the farmer, it brought surcease of toil,—to the scholar, that sweet delirium of the brain which changes toil to pleasure. It brought the wild duck back to the reedy marshes of the south; it brought the wild song back to the fervid brain of the poet. Without, the village street was paved with gold; the river ran red with the reflection of the leaves. Within, the faces of friends brightened the gloomy walls; the returning footsteps of the long-absent gladdened the threshold; and all the sweet amenities of social life again resumed their interrupted reign.

枯黄的秋日来临了。户外,秋日原野上一派丰收景象,往日浓荫蔽日的森林里也透进了阳光,秋高气爽,早晨雾霭蒙蒙,傍晚彩霞满天。室内,关上窗户,拉上窗帘,就拥有了一片自己的小天地,安宁无比,坐在火炉边,或冥想,或看书,或与朋友谈天。对于农夫来说,秋天意味着一年辛勤劳作的结束;对于学者来说,秋天里内心无比兴奋,辛苦的劳作也是一件赏心乐事。北雁南飞,去往南方芦苇丛生的湿地。热情的诗歌又涌上诗人的心头。外面,村中的道路铺满黄叶;红叶映照,河水一片绯红。室内,朋友们红光满面,那阴暗的四壁也似乎有了生气;久违的游子回家了,门槛似乎也显露快意。社交活动又恢复了往日的甜美惬意。

The first snow came. How beautiful it was, falling so silently, all day long, all night long, on the mountains, on the meadows, on the roofs of the living, on the graves of the dead! All white save the river, that marked its course by a winding black line across the landscape; and the leafless trees, that against the leaden sky now revealed more fully the wonderful beauty and intricacy of their branches! What silence, too, came with the snow, and what seclusion! Every sound was muffled, every noise changed to something soft and musical. No more trampling hoofs,—no more rattling wheels! Only the chiming sleigh bells, beating as swift and merrily as the hearts of children.

然后,初雪飘临。多美呀!整日整夜,雪花都在静静地飘洒,飘落在山岗上,飘落在草地上,飘落在人们的屋顶上,也飘落在死者的坟墓上。一片银亮雪世界!惟有蜿蜒的河道在白茫茫大地上印下一道弯弯的黑线。铅灰色的天空下,那些叶儿落尽的树木显现出它们的枝丫原来是如此错落有致,精妙美丽。雪中的世界静谧无比 ,所有的喧嚣都沉寂了,所有的声音似乎都那么柔和悦耳。听不到马蹄得得,听不到车轮辚辚,只闻雪橇铃儿叮当和鸣,如同孩子们心房欢快的律动。

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