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英汉原创翻译诗集( 续
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吕志鲁
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英汉原创翻译诗集( 续
)
吕志鲁
朋友：
让我们一起身体力行、心领神会
穿透时空间距
冲破学界误区
跨越文化障碍
游走英汉双语
《十二》
库尔庄园的野天鹅
威廉·巴特勒·叶芝
千树万树换上美丽的秋装，
林间小径干干爽爽，
十月里薄暮轻轻笼罩，
平静的湖水映衬云影天光；
秋水涨满，乱石兀立，
五十九只天鹅悠游湖上。
自我头一回细数天鹅，
已有十九个寒来暑往；
曾记得我还未数到最后，
天鹅突然纷乱地拍打翅膀，
一齐高高跃离水面，
绕着零碎的圆圈飞翔。
面对这些灿烂的生灵凝望，
我的心底泛起一阵悲伤。
忘不了暮色里初次来到岸边此处，
我倾听头上天鹅拍翅的声响，
一切都已改变，
我步履沉重，不再年富力强。
他们划动在多情的水面，
永无疲倦，结对成双，
时而一举凌空，
他们的心总是青春飞扬；
无论何处，时时相伴，
或者沉醉痴迷，或者敬畏景仰。
举止神秘，姿态优美，
平静的水面滑行流畅；
他们将在哪里筑起爱巢，
是芦苇深处，还是湖岸近旁？
只怕赏心悦目的景色中我一觉醒来，
发现他们全都飞走，一片空荡。
The Wild Swans at Coole
William Butler Yeats
THE trees are in their autumn
beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the
water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the
stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.
The nineteenth autumn has come upon
me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well
finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken
rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant
creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at
twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my
head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by
lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the
air;
Their hearts have not grown
old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they
will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still
water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they
build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some
day
To find they have flown away?
《十三》
多佛海滩
马修·阿诺德
今夜，大海宁静一片，
月明星稀，水涨潮满，
清辉下的海峡，
遥望法兰西的彼岸，
隐隐绰绰，忽明忽暗；
英格兰崖壁陡峭，
高高耸立静谧的海湾，
一望无际，微光闪闪。
请到窗前来吧，
夜晚的空气多么新鲜！
月色中苍白的大地与海相接，
孤寂的长岸浪花飞溅。
听啊，听那聒噪吼叫，
巨浪把卵石翻卷，
一次次拉回海底，
一次次又抛向高滩。
反复循环，相继不断，
那节奏舒缓，那旋律震颤，
这永恒的曲调饱含悲切哀怨。
古代的诗人索弗克斯，
爱琴海上也曾聆听过这涛声的咏叹，
由这混杂的潮汐，
想到人世的苦难。
如今，在这遥远的北海倾听，
我们的心感到同样震撼。
信仰之海啊，
曾几何时，大潮涨满，
遍布整个世界，
飞舞彩带，闪耀光环。
可是现在，还能听到什么？
只剩下悲伤悠长的呼喊，
潮声退落成晚风的呜咽，
直到世界沙石裸露，广漠的边际一片昏暗。
爱人啊，
让我们赤诚相见，
看这眼前的世界，
处处如梦似幻，
似乎美好、新奇、灿烂，
可是既无欢乐、光明、爱恋，
又无诚信、和平、慈善；
我们身处漆黑的莽原，
争斗、逃亡、惶恐、纷乱，
黑夜里愚蠢的军队厮杀纠缠。
Dover Beach
Matthew Arnold
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies
fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the
light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England
stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil
bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the
night-air!
Only, from the long line of
spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched
land,
Listen! you hear the grating
roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and
fling,
At their return, up the high
strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again
begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and
bring
The eternal note of sadness
in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the A gaean, and it
brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and
flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a
thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern
sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's
shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle
furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing
roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges
drear
And naked shingles of the
world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which
seems
To lie before us like a land of
dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so
new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor
light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for
pain;
And we are here as on a darkling
plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and
flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by
night.
《十四》
告别辞
约翰·多恩
高尚的人们安详地离开人世，
低声嘱咐自己的灵魂就此告辞，
他们的朋友会悲恸不已，
有的说他们已去，有的说他们永远不死。
没有泪水滚滚，没有叹息阵阵，
让我们悄悄融化飞逝，
我们的欢乐万勿亵渎，
我们的爱恋切莫向俗人显示。
大地震动带来灾祸恐怖，
探求它的寓意人们冥想苦思，
天体的颤抖更加剧烈，
世上的常人却浑然不知。
凡俗的爱恋最为浅薄，
只求两相厮守每天每日，
他们无法忍受天各一方，
那会让幸福从此消失。
可我们的情意无比纯洁，
我们的爱恋难以解释，
眼、唇、手虽不在一处，
却心心相印，同生共死。
我们的灵魂总在一起，
虽然躯体会离开一时，
没有断裂，只有延展，
象千锤百击变成薄片的金子。
纵使把我们说成两个，
那也如双脚圆规一样固执，
你的灵魂是那只定脚，
另一脚的动静全听你的驱使。
尽管一端稳稳坐定中央，
另一端在天涯漫游疾驰，
那定脚准会侧身聆听，
待它归来时便依旧笔直。
圆规的两脚相依相存，
你我之间与此相似，
你坚定不移让我的轨迹浑圆，
你让我在起点把行程终止。
A Valediction: Forbidding
Mourning
John Donne
As virtuous men pass mildly
away,
And whisper to their souls to
go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do
say
The breath goes now, and some say,
No:
So let us melt, and make no
noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests
move,
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.
Moving of th' earth brings harms and
fears,
Men reckon what it did and
meant,
But trepidation of the
spheres,
Though greater far, is
innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers' love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot
admit
Absence, because it doth
remove
Those things which elemented
it.
But we by a love so much
refined
That our selves know not what it
is,
Inter-assur'd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to
miss.
Our two souls therefore, which are
one,
Though I must go, endure not
yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness
beat.
If they be two, they are two
so
As stiff twin compasses are
two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no
show
To move, but doth, if th' other
do.
And though it in the centre
sit,
Yet when the other far doth
roam,
It leans and hearkens after
it,
And grows erect, as that comes
home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who
must
Like th' other foot, obliquely
run;
Thy firmness makes my circle
just,
And makes me end where I
begun.
《十五》
我不爱你
卡罗琳·伊丽莎白·萨拉·诺顿
我不爱你！真的，我不爱你！
可看不见你时我又悲伤不已；
只因沉默的星星欢快地把你凝望，
我就对你头上的晴空心存妒嫉。
我不爱你！我不爱你！
但你的所做所为在我眼中无可挑剔：
我常常独自唉声叹气，
即使我的真爱也望尘莫及。
我不爱你！我不爱你！
然而离别后你的声音如乐曲萦绕耳际，
我厌烦别的声音再来搅扰，
无论那些话语多么亲热甜蜜。
我不爱你！我不爱你！
你的眼睛却频频进入我夜半的梦里，
明亮、深遂、湛蓝，含情默默，
我不知有谁的眼睛能够相比。
我知道我不爱你！只是，天啊，
我坦诚的心人人表示怀疑；
他们走过时常常付之一笑，
因为发觉我看你时两眼痴迷。
I do not love Thee
Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton.
1808–1876
I DO not love thee!—no! I do not love
thee!
And yet when thou art absent I am
sad;
And envy even the bright blue sky above
thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be
glad.
I do not love thee!—yet, I know not why,
5
Whate'er thou dost seems still well done, to
me:
And often in my solitude I
sigh
That those I do love are not more like
thee!
I do not love thee!—yet, when thou art
gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear)
10
Which breaks the lingering echo of the
tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my
ear.
I do not love thee!—yet thy speaking
eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive
blue,
Between me and the midnight heaven arise,
15
Oftener than any eyes I ever
knew.
I know I do not love thee! yet,
alas!
Others will scarcely trust my candid
heart;
And oft I catch them smiling as they
pass,
Because they see me gazing where thou art.
20
《十六》
希望是一只会飞的小鸟
爱米莉·伊丽莎白·狄更生
希望一是只会飞的小鸟，
心灵是它栖息的窝巢，
无休无止永远欢唱，
全无歌词，只有曲调。
寒冷中它为人们送来温暖，
风雨里它的歌声更加美妙；
这只小鸟将青春永在，
除非人心涌起痛苦的浪潮。
这歌声响遏极地的风暴，
这歌声盖过大海的狂涛－－
可是即使它身处绝境，
也不会向我索取一丝一毫。
HOPE IS THE THING WITH
FEATHERS
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
"Hope" is the thing with
feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the
words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest — in the Gale— is
heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little
bird—
That kept so many warm—
I've heard it in the chilliest
land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb — of me.
《
十七》
致 云 雀
珀西·比希·雪莱
为你欢呼，快乐的精灵！
鸟雀只是你外在的形象，
你来自世外，你来自天堂，
你尽情倾诉，
行云流水，婉转悠扬。
越飞越高，
青云直上，
如火云一团，
在深邃的蓝天展开翅膀，
翱翔，歌唱，歌唱，翱翔。
沐浴金色晚霞，
伴着夕阳，
云彩一片明亮，
你漂浮，你翻飞，
你的追寻无比漫长。
淡淡的紫色浸润，
一路围绕身旁，
像白昼里的一颗星星，
升起在高高的天上，
虽然难以看见，我却能听到你的兴奋、激昂：
犹如离弦之箭，
穿透银色的天幕射向远方，
那盏明灯收拢，
融入黎明的清朗，
尽管从眼中消失，可我们能感觉到它的去向。
大地、苍穹，
你的声音处处回荡，
恰似明净的夜晚，
孤云难把月色遮挡，
铺天盖地一片辉光。
不知世间还有何物与你相比，
你是何物我们无法想象。
只知你的旋律如甘霖飘洒，
胜过云霓斑斓辉煌，
超出长虹溢彩流光。
就像隐身的诗人，
给人类留下冥想，
由衷地吟诵赞美，
直到世界改变模样，
去同情它不曾留意的忧患、希望。
就像名门闺秀，
在深宫大院雪藏，
每逢孤独的时刻，
要排解爱的忧伤，
让情曲在房中奏响。
像一只金色的萤火虫，
在露珠滴落的溪涧游荡，
出没花丛草丛，
沿着平坡陡岗，
播撒空灵的荧光。
又像一朵玫瑰，
躲在绿叶中沉入梦乡，
直到热风吹落，
依旧散发馨香，
太多甜蜜使笨拙的飞贼头晕脑胀。
滴落的春雨声声脆响，
承接的青草熠熠闪亮，
被雨滴唤醒的花朵，
还有明澈、清新、欢快的万物万象，
都不及你的音乐令人心醉神往。
无论你是精灵还是鸟类，
请教我懂得你那甜蜜的遐想，
我还从来未曾领略，
对爱情与美酒的这种赞扬，
欣喜的狂潮如此神圣，淋漓酣畅。
婚庆赞歌欢快，
凯旋乐曲豪放，
可与你的嗓音相比，
全是空洞的夸张，
只会隐隐约约令人感到失望。
你欢乐的曲调来自何方？
为何像喷泉不断流淌？
是怎样的天空、平原？
是何种高山、田野、波浪？
是怎样一种独有的爱恋？为何痛苦永远退让？
你只有明快的欢乐，
把倦怠彻底埋葬，
烦恼郁闷的阴影，
无法靠近身旁；
你的爱永无终止，没有限量。
无论沉睡还是苏醒，
你都能看透死亡，
更加真切、深邃，
超脱凡俗的想象，
否则，你的曲调怎会如此清澈、流畅？
我们四处寻找，
把那虚无追求渴望，
即使最坦诚的笑声，
也带着几分凄凉，
最甜蜜的歌曲倾诉最悲切的惆怅。
纵然我们有一种能力，
蔑视仇恨、傲慢和惊慌，
纵然我们有与生具来的意志，
不让泪水涌进眼眶，
如何贴近你的欢乐我却一片迷茫。
你是世上最美妙的音乐，
你是人间最欢快的声响，
一切书本的精华，
都敌不过你的宝藏，
你傲视大地，你的诗才万众景仰！
你所熟知的欢愉，
哪怕一星半点，请你教我欣赏，
那我就会笑口常开，
和谐就会让我欢喜欲狂，
世界就会倾听，正如我现在这样!
To a Skylark
-- by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from heaven, or near
it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated
art.
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou
springest
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou
wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever
singest.
In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are
brightening,
Thou dost float and run,
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just
begun.
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of heaven
In the broad daylight
Thou art unseen, but yet Ihear thy thrill
delight:
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere,
Whose intense lamp nerrows
In the white dawn clear
Until we hardly seem, we feel that it is
there.
All the earth and air
With thy voice is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is
overflow'd.
What thou are we know not;
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow
not
Drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers a rain of
melody.
Like a poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded
not;
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her
bower;
Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden
Its aerial hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the
view;
Like a rose embower'd
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflower'd,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged
thieves.
Sound of venral showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awaken'd flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth
surpass.
Teach us, sprite or bird,
What sweet thoughts are
thine:
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so
devine.
Close hymneal,
Or triumphal chant,
Match'd with thine would be
all
But an empty vaunt --
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden
want.
What objects are the
foutains
Of thy happy trains?
What fields, or waves, or
mountains?
What shapes of sky or
plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of
pain?
With thy clear keen joyance
Langour cannot be:
Shadow of annoyance
Never came near thee:
Thou lovest; but ne'er knew love's sad
satiety.
Waking or asleep
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how would thy notes flow in such a crystal
stream?
We look before and after
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest
thought.
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not thy joy we ever should come
near.
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the
ground!
Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow
The world should listen then, as I am listening
now!
《十八》
西风颂
珀西?比希?雪莱
一
啊，狂野的西风，把大地席卷，
你是秋神的气息，无形之中令草木枯干，
让它们如着魔的鬼魂四处逃串；
枯黄、猩红、苍白、暗淡，
满目无数染上瘟疫的叶片！
啊，你在冬日之床把插翅的种子撒满；
让它们躺在地下，冰凉、黑暗，
如同坟墓中的尸体一般，
等待你的妹妹那湛蓝的春天；
等待春的号角把梦中的世界呼唤，
催动芬芳的花朵争奇斗妍，
让生命的色彩、气息洋溢山岗、平原：
狂野的精灵，你八方吹遍，
听啊，听啊，你维护，你催残！
二
你穿过纷乱的空际，驾御气旋，
有如大地上枯萎的落叶，碎云飘散，
有如海天之间大树的枝条，云层震颤；
你是信使，预告风暴与雷鸣电闪！
散落在波涛汹涌的蓝色海面，
恰似暴躁的酒神祭司盛怒的容颜；
从地平线朦胧的边缘，
一直延伸到天穹的顶端，
她为风暴的来临把头发披散。
西风唱起挽歌送走残年，
你聚集神力把乱云驱赶，
摆出圆顶坟墓巨大的造型，就在岁末的夜晚。
听啊，从那郁积、浓重的云团，
即将爆发暗黑的雨柱、冰雹、火焰！
三
安躺的地中海一片碧蓝，
水晶般的浪花摧送入眠，
是你，猛然惊醒它夏日的梦幻。
浮石岛旁，巴亚海湾，
它梦见古老的塔楼、宫殿，
在天光明亮的波浪中摇撼。
青苔、花朵四处铺满，
如痴如醉，谁能描绘那芬芳灿烂！
为你开路，大西洋波浪滔天；
大海裂开，如深渊巨潭，
海底花草翻滚，泥中树丛纷乱，
枝叶如霜打雷劈，肃杀凄惨，
你的呼啸让他们脸色突变，
听啊，他们瑟瑟发抖，魂飞魄散！
四
如果我是枯叶，我要陪你飞旋，
如果我是行云，我会随你飘散，
如果我是浪花，我将在你神威下气吁喘喘；
我愿把你强大的脉搏分担，
只是难比你的自由、毫无羁绊，
我也不再是青春少年；
否则我会遨游太空，与你相伴，
即使超出你的疾驰也不希罕，
我也不至于如此情急心烦。
祈求你满足我想要腾飞的心愿，
请你把我托起，如浪花、云朵、叶片！
让我跌落生活的荆棘，血迹斑斑！
戴上岁月沉重的铁链，
与你如此相似，桀骜不驯、机敏、傲慢。
五
让我做你的竖琴，如树林等你奏弹：
哪怕只剩下无叶的枝干，
你定能奏响激昂的和弦！
凭借秋天深沉的意蕴，甜蜜、伤感；
愿你化作我的灵魂，威猛、强悍，
你我合而为一，气吞河山！
把僵化的思潮扫出人间，
如落叶催促生命重新回还！
也让我这诗句如符咒叨念；
如不灭的炉火金光飞溅，
我的词语是余烬和火花在世上流传，
经由我的双唇把大地呼唤；
啊，西风，这嘹亮的号角发出预言！
如果冬天来了，难道春天还会遥远？
Ode to the West Wind
Percy Bysshe Shelley
I
O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's
being
Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves
dead
Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter
fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic
red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes! O
thou
Who chariotest to their dark wintry
bed
The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and
low,
Each like a corpse within its grave,
until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall
blow
Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and
fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in
air)
With living hues and odours plain and
hill;
Wild Spirit, which art moving
everywhere;
Destroyer and preserver; hear, O
hear!
II
Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's
commotion,
Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are
shed,
Shook from the tangled boughs of heaven and
ocean,
Angels of rain and lightning! there are
spread
On the blue surface of thine airy
surge,
Like the bright hair uplifted from the
head
Of some fierce M?nad, even from the dim
verge
Of the horizon to the zenith's
height,
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou
dirge
Of the dying year, to which this closing
night
Will be the dome of a vast
sepulchre,
Vaulted with all thy congregated
might
Of vapours, from whose solid
atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst: O
hear!
III
Thou who didst waken from his summer
dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he
lay,
Lull'd by the coil of his crystàlline
streams,
Beside a pumice isle in Bai?'s
bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and
towers
Quivering within the wave's intenser
day,
All overgrown with azure moss, and
flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!
Thou
For whose path the Atlantic's level
powers
Cleave themselves into chasms, while far
below
The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which
wear
The sapless foliage of the ocean,
know
Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with
fear,
And tremble and despoil themselves: O
hear!
IV
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest
bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with
thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and
share
The impulse of thy strength, only less
free
Than thou, O uncontrollable! if
even
I were as in my boyhood, and could
be
The comrade of thy wanderings over
heaven,
As then, when to outstrip thy skiey
speed
Scarce seem'd a vision—I would ne'er have
striven
As thus with thee in prayer in my sore
need.
O! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a
cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I
bleed!
A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and
bow'd
One too like thee—tameless, and swift, and
proud.
V
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest
is:
What if my leaves are falling like its
own?
The tumult of thy mighty
harmonies
Will take from both a deep autumnal
tone,
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit
fierce,
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous
one!
Drive my dead thoughts over the
universe,
Like wither'd leaves, to quicken a new
birth;
And, by the incantation of this
verse,
Scatter, as from an unextinguish'd
hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among
mankind!
Be through my lips to unawaken'd
earth
The trumpet of a prophecy! O
Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far
behind?
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