沃尔特•惠特曼#我自己的歌#章节二十一

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杂谈 |
分类: 美国文学 |
The left half of a 1872
stereo-view of Whitman (photo F.
Pearsall). Later used as a
frontispiece of the
collection Two Rivulets," an
experiment in typography and genre."
章节二十一
我是肉体的诗人也是灵魂的诗人,
我占有天堂的愉快也占有地狱的苦痛,
前者我把它嫁接在自己身上使它增殖,后者我把它翻译一种新的语言。
我既是男子的诗人也是妇女的诗人,
我是说作为妇女和作为男子同样伟大,
我是说再没有比人们的母亲更加伟大的。
我歌颂“扩张”或“骄傲”,
我们已经低头求免得够了,
我是在说明体积只不过是发展的结果。
你已经远远超越了其余的人吗?你是总统吗?
这是微不足道的,人人会越过此点而继续前进。
我是那和温柔而渐渐昏暗的黑夜一同行走的人,
我向着那被黑夜掌握了一半的大地和海洋呼唤。
请紧紧靠拢,袒露着胸脯的夜啊--紧紧靠拢吧,富于魅力和营养的黑夜!
南风的夜--有着巨大流星的夜!
寂静而打着瞌睡的夜--疯狂而赤身裸体的夏夜啊。
微笑吧!啊,妖娆的、气息清凉的大地!
生长着沉睡着饱含液汁的树木的大地!
夕阳已西落的大地--山巅被雾气覆盖着的大地!
满月的晶体微带蓝色的大地!
河里的潮水掩映着光照和黑暗的大地!
为了我而更加明澈的灰色云彩笼罩着的大地!
远远的高山连着平原的大地--长满苹果花的大地!
微笑吧,你的情人来了。
浪子,你给了我爱情--因此我也给你爱情!
啊,难以言传的、炽热的爱情。
Section 21
I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the
Soul,
The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of
hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself, the
latter I translate into a new
tongue.
I am the poet of the woman the same as the
man,
And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a
man,
And I say there is nothing greater than the mother
of men.
I chant the chant of dilation or pride,
We have had ducking and deprecating about
enough,
I show that size is only development.
Have you outstript the rest? are you the
President?
It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there
every one, and still pass on.
I am he that walks with the tender and growing
night,
I call to the earth and sea half-held by the
night.
Press close bare-bosom'd night—press close magnetic
nourishing night!
Night of south winds—night of the large few
stars!
Still nodding night—mad naked summer night.
Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth!
Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!
Earth of departed sunset—earth of the mountains
misty-topt!
Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just
tinged with blue!
Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the
river!
Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and
clearer for my sake!
Far-swooping elbow'd earth—rich apple-blossom'd
earth!
Smile, for your lover comes.
Prodigal, you have given me love—therefore I to you
give love!
O unspeakable passionate love.