女郎夏洛特/The Lady of Shalott

【英】丁尼生

第一部

在那条河的两岸，是一片

种着大麦和黑麦的农田；

麦覆盖着平野，远接长天；

还有一条路穿行田野间，

通向古堡卡默洛特；

人们在那路上来来往往，

把大片盛开的睡莲凝望——

盛开在小岛的四面八方，

那就是小岛夏洛特。

柳树泛白光，山杨在颤抖，

拂过的风儿虽说极轻柔，

也吹暗河面，把河水吹皱；

而河水在岛旁流啊流，

永远流往卡默洛特。

灰色的四座角楼和四墙

俯视着大片开花的地方；

在这寂静小岛上的绣房

深居着女郎夏洛特。

在岸边的柳树浓荫下面，

几匹马慢慢地拉着大船；

岛上没有人向这船呼唤，

任其双桅上张挂着丝帆

一路驶向卡默洛特。

可有谁见过她挥一挥手？

可有谁见过她站在窗后？

她可曾传诵在百姓之口——

这一位女郎夏洛特？

大麦长芒刺，收割人起早：

只有田间的他们才听到

一支轻快的歌回声袅绕——

来自那蜿蜒而去的河道，

去往古堡卡默洛特。

凭着月光，疲乏的收割人

在多风的高处堆垛麦捆；

他们倾听着歌，低语出声：

“是那成仙的夏洛特。”

第二部

她在那里日夜的织着网，

织一方色彩鲜艳的魔网；

她听到一声低语在耳旁：

她得遭殃，倘她住手张望，

张望那座卡默洛特。

得遭什么殃她可弄不清，

所以她只顾织啊织不停，

其他的事情全然不经心——

她就是女郎夏洛特。

整年有镜子挂在她眼前，

就在那清澈的镜子里面，

有人间的种种影像出现；

由此她看见大路并不远——

逶迤通向卡默洛特。

她又看见河水卷着水涡，

看见粗鲁的庄稼汉，还有，

穿红斗篷的去市场村姑

经过了小岛夏洛特。

有时候快活的姑娘一群、

骑马缓行的寺院主持人，

有时候鬈发小羊倌一名

或留长发的红衣小侍从，

去那城堡卡默洛特；

有时在蓝莹莹的镜子里，

可看见联袂并辔的骑士；

但没有一位对她矢志不移，

对她这女郎夏洛特。

然而她总喜欢织她的网，

织上她镜中古怪的景象；

因为常常在寂静的晚上，

有送葬队伍，有羽饰、火光、

音乐去往卡默洛特。

有时候，月光在当空照耀，

一对新婚的恋人会来到，

“我可讨厌这影像，”她说道——

她就是女郎夏洛特。

第三部

离她的闺房一箭之遥处，

有位骑手在麦捆间驰过；

叶间筛下的阳光在闪烁，

叫勇士的金甲亮得像火——

这是骑士朗斯洛特。

他的盾牌上有一个图案：

红十字骑士跪在女士前；

这盾在金黄色田间忽闪，

远处是小岛夏洛特。

镶珠嵌宝的马勒在闪亮，

就像是一片璀璨的星光

发自那银汉耿耿的天上。

马具上的铃欢快地玎珰——

他在驰向卡默洛特。

那条饰有纹章的斜带下，

挂有一只硕大的银喇叭；

马一跑，响的是他的盔甲——

远处是小岛夏洛特。

瞧那无云的晴空万里碧，

满是珠宝的马鞍在闪熠，

那头盔顶上的一蓬鸟羽

像火焰一样的鲜艳明丽——

他在驰往卡默洛特。

如同时时在紫莹莹夜间，

在簇簇明亮的星星下面，

一颗拖光尾的流星出现，

掠过宁静的夏洛特。

他开朗的脸上闪着阳光，

战马锃亮的蹄踏在地上，

骑马的他一路朝前直闯，

盔下的漆黑鬈发在飘扬，

他呀驰向卡默洛特。

岸上的本人、河里的倒影，

一起映进那水晶的明镜；

岸上传来了啦啦的歌声，

唱的人是朗斯洛特。

她离开织机、离开织的网，

她三步两步走过她闺房，

她看见睡莲的花儿开放，

看见那盔顶的鸟羽飘扬，

她望着那卡默洛特。

那网飞出窗，直朝远处飘，

那镜子一裂两半地碎掉，

她喊道，“我呀已在劫难逃”——

她就是女郎夏洛特。

第四部

萎黄的树林已日渐凋零，

正在狂烈的东风里挣扎；

宽阔的河在两岸间呻吟，

低沉的天空大雨下不停，

洒向城堡卡默洛特。

她出门来到一株柳树前，

找到遗在那里的一条船，

就把几个字写在船头边：

岛上的女郎夏洛特。

那河的水面上幽暗昏沉；

像个恍惚的勇敢占卜人

预见到自己的全部不幸——

她那木然而呆滞的眼睛

遥望着那卡默洛特。

天光将冥的茫茫暮色里，

她解开船索，躺下在船底，

让宽阔的河载着她远去，

载着这女郎夏洛特。

躺着的她穿雪白的衣群，

宽松的忽左忽右飘不停；

伴着夜里的天籁和虫鸣，

落向她的树叶轻而又轻——

她呀漂向卡默洛特。

在两岸的柳坡、田野之中，

小船在曲曲折折地前进；

人们听到她最后的歌声——

听到这女郎夏洛特。

他们听见的歌忧郁圣洁，

一会声音高，一会声音低，

唱到她血液渐渐地冷却，

唱到她完全丧失了视力——

望着城堡卡默洛特。

她随波逐流地一路漂去；

没漂到岸边第一幢屋子，

已在自己的歌声中去世——

去世了，女郎夏洛特。

白糊糊的身影显得惨白，

让船带着漂过塔楼、跳台；

她无声地漂过圆墙、阳台，

漂过耸立在两岸的高宅，

就此漂进卡默洛特。

爵爷和夫人、骑士和市民，

都拥到码头上看个究竟——

在船头上读到她的芳名：

岛上的女郎夏洛特。

这里是什么？这是什么人？

附近灯火通明的宫殿中，

国王举行的欢宴寂无声，

划十字的骑士个个惊恐——

个个身在卡默洛特。

但朗斯洛特沉思了一会，

说道，“她的脸长的很美，

愿仁慈的上帝给她恩惠——

给这位女郎夏洛特。”

选自《丁尼生诗选》，黄杲炘译，上海译文出版，1995年

The Lady of Shalott

Tennyson

PART I

ON either side the river lie

Long fields of barley and of rye, 

That clothe the wold and meet the sky; 

And thro' the field the road runs by 

To many-tower'd Camelot; 

And up and down the people go, 

Gazing where the lilies blow 

Round an island there below, 

The island of Shalott. 

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,  

Little breezes dusk and shiver 

Thro' the wave that runs for ever 

By the island in the river 

Flowing down to Camelot. 

Four gray walls, and four gray towers, 

Overlook a space of flowers, 

And the silent isle imbowers 

The Lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow-veil'd, 

Slide the heavy barges trail'd 

By slow horses; and unhail'd 

The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd 

Skimming down to Camelot: 

But who hath seen her wave her hand? 

Or at the casement seen her stand? 

Or is she known in all the land, 

The Lady of Shalott? 

Only reapers, reaping early 

In among the bearded barley, 

Hear a song that echoes cheerly 

From the river winding clearly, 

Down to tower'd Camelot: 

And by the moon the reaper weary, 

Piling sheaves in uplands airy,

Listening, whispers ''Tis the fairy 

Lady of Shalott.'

PART II

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colours gay. 

She has heard a whisper say, 

A curse is on her if she stay 

To look down to Camelot. 

She knows not what the curse may be,

And so she weaveth steadily, 

And little other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott. 

And moving thro' a mirror clear 

That hangs before her all the year,

Shadows of the world appear.

There she sees the highway near

Winding down to Camelot: 

There the river eddy whirls, 

And there the surly village-churls,

And the red cloaks of market girls, 

Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,  

An abbot on an ambling pad, 

Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, 

Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad, 

Goes by to tower'd Camelot;

And sometimes thro' the mirror blue 

The knights come riding two and two: 

She hath no loyal knight and true, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

But in her web she still delights 

To weave the mirror's magic sights,  

For often thro' the silent nights

A funeral, with plumes and lights, 

And music, went to Camelot: 

Or when the moon was overhead, 

Came two young lovers lately wed;  

'I am half sick of shadows,' said 

The Lady of Shalott.

PART III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,

He rode between the barley-sheaves, 

The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, 

And flamed upon the brazen greaves 

Of bold Sir Lancelot.

A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd 

To a lady in his shield,

That sparkled on the yellow field,  

Beside remote Shalott. 

The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, 

Like to some branch of stars we see 

Hung in the golden Galaxy. 

The bridle bells rang merrily 

As he rode down to Camelot: 

And from his blazon'd baldric slung 

A mighty silver bugle hung, 

And as he rode his armour rung, 

Beside remote Shalott. 

All in the blue unclouded weather 

Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, 

The helmet and the helmet-feather

Burn'd like one burning flame together, 

As he rode down to Camelot. 

As often thro' the purple night, 

Below the starry clusters bright, 

Some bearded meteor, trailing light, 

Moves over still Shalott. 

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; 

On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; 

From underneath his helmet flow'd

His coal-black curls as on he rode,

As he rode down to Camelot. 

From the bank and from the river 

He flash'd into the crystal mirror, 

'Tirra lirra,' by the river 

Sang Sir Lancelot. 

She left the web, she left the loom,

She made three paces thro' the room, 

She saw the water-lily bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume, 

She look'd down to Camelot. 

Out flew the web and floated wide; 

The mirror crack'd from side to side; 

'The curse is come upon me!' cried 

The Lady of Shalott.

PART IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale yellow woods were waning, 

The broad stream in his banks complaining, 

Heavily the low sky raining

Over tower'd Camelot; 

Down she came and found a boat 

Beneath a willow left afloat, 

And round about the prow she wrote  

The Lady of Shalott. 

And down the river's dim expanse— 

Like some bold seer in a trance, 

Seeing all his own mischance— 

With a glassy countenance 

Did she look to Camelot. 

And at the closing of the day 

She loosed the chain, and down she lay; 

The broad stream bore her far away, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

Lying, robed in snowy white 

That loosely flew to left and right— 

The leaves upon her falling light—

Thro' the noises of the night 

She floated down to Camelot: 

And as the boat-head wound along 

The willowy hills and fields among, 

They heard her singing her last song, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,

Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, 

Till her blood was frozen slowly, 

And her eyes were darken'd wholly,

Turn'd to tower'd Camelot; 

For ere she reach'd upon the tide 

The first house by the water-side, 

Singing in her song she died, 

The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony, 

By garden-wall and gallery, 

A gleaming shape she floated by, 

Dead-pale between the houses high,

Silent into Camelot. 

Out upon the wharfs they came, 

Knight and burgher, lord and dame,  

And round the prow they read her name, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

Who is this? and what is here? 

And in the lighted palace near 

Died the sound of royal cheer; 

And they cross'd themselves for fear, 

All the knights at Camelot: 

But Lancelot mused a little space; 

He said, 'She has a lovely face;

God in His mercy lend her grace, 

The Lady of Shalott.'