班卓的诗歌(24) ——来自澳洲荒原的劳动号子
业余骑师
业余骑师
吴仲湛
他要为我们去赛马! 穿上马裤戴上护眼镜全副武装
非职业的他难道看不出来吗那是二十对一在本赛季
东家肯定是昏了头才会想送上咱们的大裂缝跳栏板
马从栅栏上空一跃过而马背上骑着却是一个烂行当
吁驾! 别告诉俺他会骑术,瞧他裤子像个松瘪气球
他怎么能坐得稳他的马?瞧他的马刺活像一对鱼叉
应该用赛狗规则来评判他,是的他得退出赛马路道
跌下来! 哎唷他跌下马车啦!更甭提一匹跨栏烈马
对啊先生马已准备就绪俺希望您以前曾骑过这匹马
没件事比得过了解您的马儿先生这地裂难越真恐怖
战斧总是用来挥舞的瞧他直冲向栅栏如同一次玩耍
离跳跃二十英尺处稍停,然后像颗子弹从枪口射出
噢他能准确地跳过,先生您不会犯错这是盛装舞步
可也得认真拍打马儿,有时您须留神他不将您带落
不要在意他怎么磕碰,他的胫部坚硬无比像颗马钉
有时您会看见栅栏震动木屑裂片从赛道上迸飞四出
您能做的就是拉住他听任他跳跃想怎么跳就怎么跳
在栅栏处您可得给他头脑要是他挣扎必须死缠死吊
甭让他自己乱蹦乱跑那么我保您不能得第三也第四
直到您跃过了石壁,您便可以放开大步快速往前跑
他的确曾在那堵墙壁上摔倒而这让他明白规矩准则
从此以后他就能一飞而过,但您一拉笼头他便停住
就让他跑吧您可以信任他,他会绝对谨慎不会跌倒
但俺认为全凭运气,请记住在墙壁前他得头脑清楚
哈他跳下来如开始时一般安稳他似乎坐着岿然不动
唯独他松垮下垂的臀部却荒废了任何人的漂亮鞍座
他们跑远他们又跑来,头道栅栏马蹄上脑袋戴皇冠
太好啦新伙计,他跳过去但其他两匹马却摔了大跤
现在俺热诚地为他唱高调我的朱庇特神毕竟他能跑
呼,那是你的排序让他飞越他们他可是一点不惧怕
世上到底有谁曾想到?难道他们都只是来此散散步
小新兵现在正领先呢马上就会看见一场勇猛的赛跑
阁下他们的赛跑可是来真的哟跑过来了领头是新兵
驮着背上的小伙他利索打了个滚若没死掉算个奇迹
战斧,战斧耶! 老天爷,他将其他多数的马打败了
呼! 您没看见他怎么搏击吗,马鞍鼓胀从未曾消失
第二轮时间到了,好战金果! 他一直保持领先位置
吁驾!猛击木桩的他! 似乎一点也不在乎那种鼓起
现在到了立壁前,放开让他冲去三十尺飞跃俺敢说
他的鞍座纹丝不动他一溜烟奔跑回家活像一只野兔
是什么是什么在追逐他噢是鼓点,通常着魔般滞后
坐下现在该为你的生活驾驭! 噢好,这种样式来吧
咚咚鼓点毫无疑问将打败你,除非你能让他摔一跤
坐下现在磨擦磨擦鲸鱼骨给他狠踢一马刺抽一马鞭
战斧,战斧耶,瞧战斧赢了,为了尊贵的赛马皇冠
你瞧他正冲向栅栏,他要把所有地裂沟壑统统填满
鼓点永远也不能追上他,只要他牢牢地咬住马铁针
喂现在最后一道栅栏! 跳过去了!战斧战斧他赢了
嘿先生您乘坐他实太完美俺打开始就知道您会骑马
有些毛头小伙说您不懂骑,俺却说骑马就得这样子
嗨听俺说,那是个马贩子,马鞍就是他生养的地方
呵呵太对了,先生,谢谢您,以上便是俺想说的话
江湖侠客志: “班卓的诗歌——来自澳洲荒原的劳动号子”的诗均为中国译协会员、广东译协理事吴仲湛汉语首译。以班卓的“Waltzing Matilda(跳华尔兹的玛蒂尔达)”为主题曲。关于班卓,请点击本博客首页“我的文章专辑”中的“班卓的诗歌”,参阅。
澳洲塑料纸币上的帕特森.班卓像
The Amateur
Rider
Banjo Paterson
(Australia)
Him going to ride for us! Him __ with the pants and the eyeglass and all.
Amateur! Don’t he just look it __ it’s twenty to one on a fall.
Boss must be gone off his head to be sending our steeplechase crack
Out over fences like these with an object like that on his back.
Ride! Don’t tell me he can ride. With his pants just as loose as balloons,
How can he sit on his horse? And his spurs like a pair of harpoons;
Ought to be under the Dog Act, he ought, and be kept off the course.
Fall! why, he’d fall off a cart, let alone off a steeplechase horse.
Ride! Don’t tell me he can ride. With his pants just as loose as balloons,
How can he sit on his horse? And his spurs like a pair of harpoons;
Ought to be under the Dog Act, he ought, and be kept off the course.
Fall! why, he’d fall off a cart, let alone off a steeplechase horse.
Yessir! the ‘orse is all ready __ I wish you’d have rode him before;
Nothing like knowing your ‘orse, sir, and this chap’s a terror to bore;
Battleaxe always could pull, and he rushes his fences like fun __
Stand off his jump twenty feet, and then springs like a shot from a gun.
Oh, he can jump ‘em all right, sir, you make no mistake, ‘e’s a toff;
Clout ‘em in earnest, too, sometimes, you mind that he don’t clout you off __
Don’t seem to mind how he hits ‘em, his shins is as hard as a nail,
Sometimes you’ll see the fence shake and the splinters fly up from the rail.
All you can do is to hold him and just let him jump as he likes.
Give him his head at the fences, and hang on like death if he strikes;
Don’t let him run himself out __ you can lie third or fourth in the race __
Until you clear the stone wall, and from that you can put on the pace.
Fell at that wall once, he did, and it gave him a regular spread,
Ever since that time he flies it __ he’ll stop if you pull at his head,
Just let him race __ you can trust him __ he’ll take first-class care he don’t fall,
And I think that’s the lot __ but remember, he must have his head at the wall.
Well, he’s down safe as far as the start, and he seems to sit on pretty neat,
Only his baggified breeches would ruinate anyone’s seat __
They’re away __ here they come __ the first fence, and he’s head over heels for a crown!
Good for the new chum, he’s over, and two of the others are down!
Now for the treble, my hearty __ By Jove, he can ride, after all;
Whoop, that’s your sort __ let him fly them! He hasn’t much fear of a fall.
Who in the world would have thought it? And aren’t they just going a pace?
Little Recruit in the lead there will make it a stoutly run race.
Lord! But they’re racing in earnest __ and down goes Recruit on his head,
Rolling clean over his boy __ it’s a miracle if he ain’t dead.
Battleaxe, Battleaxe yet! By the Lord, he’s got most of ‘em beat __
Ho! Did you see how he struck, and the swell never moved in his seat?
Second time round, and by Jingo! He’s holding his lead of ‘em well;
Hark to him clouting the timber! It don’t seem to trouble the swell.
Now for the wall __ let him rush it. A thirty-foot leap, I declare __
Never a shift in his seat, and he’s racing for home like a hare.
What’s that that’s chasing him __ Rataplan __ regular demon to stay!
Sit down and ride for your life now! Oh, good, that’s the style __ come away!
Rataplan’s certain to beat you, unless you can give him the slip;
Sit down and rub in the whalebone now __ give him the spurs and the whip!
Battleaxe, Battleaxe, yet __ and it’s Battleaxe wins for a crown;
Look at him rushing the fences, he wants to bring t’other chap down.
Rataplan never will catch him if only he keeps on his pins;
Now! the last fence! And he’s over it! Battleaxe, Battleaxe wins!
Well, sir, you rode him just perfect __ I knew from the first you could ride.
Some of the chaps said you couldn’t, an’ I says just like this a’ one side:
Mark me, I says, that’s a tradesman __ the saddle is where he was bred.
Weight! You’re all right, sir, and thank you; and them was the words that I said.
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