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克里斯蒂娜•罗塞蒂 |谁 曾 见 过 风 ?

(2016-02-24 13:45:03)
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克里斯蒂娜•罗塞蒂 <wbr>|谁 <wbr>曾 <wbr>见 <wbr>过 <wbr>风 <wbr>?

克里斯蒂娜•罗塞蒂 |

 

克里斯蒂娜•罗塞蒂

Christina Rossetti

18301894

 

英国文学史上最有才华的女诗人之一,与布朗宁夫人齐名,她的诗用词清纯、简练、情感真挚、平易近人。弗吉尼亚•伍尔夫曾说:“在英国女诗人中,克里斯蒂娜•罗塞蒂名列第一位,她的歌唱得好像知更鸟,有时又像夜莺。”

 

 

 

 

我死了的时候,亲爱的,

别为我唱悲伤的歌;

我坟上不必安插蔷薇,

也无需浓荫的柏树;

让盖着我的青青的草,

淋着雨,也沾着露珠;

假如你愿意,请记着我,

要是你甘心,忘了我。

 

我再不见地面的青荫,

觉不到雨露的甜蜜;

再听不见夜莺的歌喉,

在黑暗中倾吐悲啼,

在悠久的昏暮中消沉;

阳光不升起,也不消翳。

我也许,也许我记得你,

我也许,我也许忘记。

 

(徐志摩 译)

 

Song

 

When I am dead, my dearest,

Sing no sad songs for me;

Plant thou no roses at my head,

Nor shady cypress tree.

Be the green grass above me

With showers and dewdrops wet;

And if thou wilt, remember,

And if thou wilt, forget.

 

I shall not see the shadows,

I shall not feel the rain;

I shall not hear the nightingale

Sing on as if in pain.

And dreaming through the twilight

That doth not rise nor set,

Haply I may remember,

And haply may forget.

 

 

 

 

爱,如死一般强,也已经死亡,

来吧,在凋谢的百花丛中,

让我们给它寻找一个安息的地方。

在它的头旁栽上青草,

再放一块石头在它的脚边,

这样,我们可以坐在上面,

在黄昏寂静的时光。

 

它诞生在春天,

却夭折在秋收以前;

在一个温暖的夏天,

它离我们而去,不再回来。

它害怕秋天的黄昏,

又冷又灰暗。

我们在它的墓旁,

叹息它的死亡。

 

轻轻地拨动琴弦,

我们悲哀地低声歌唱:

我们的目光倾注在青青的草上,

当岁月流逝,它们也披满了忧伤;

眼前的一切恍如昨日,

可是,那是很久、很久以前。

 

An End

 

Love, strong as Death, is dead.

Come, let us make his bed

Among the dying flowers:

A green turf at his head;

And a stone at his feet,

Whereon we may sit

In the quiet evening hours.

 

He was born in the Spring,

And died before the harvesting:

On the last warm summer day

He left us; he would not stay

For Autumn twilight cold and grey.

Sit we by his grave, and sing

He is gone away.

 

To few chords and sad and low

Sing we so:

Be our eyes fixed on the grass

Shadow-veiled as the years pass,

While we think of all that was

In the long ago.

 

 

 

 

谁曾见过风?

你我皆不曾。

但看木叶舞枝头,

便晓风穿过。

 

谁曾见过风?

你我皆不曾。

但看万木垂梢首,

便晓风吹过。

 

Who Has Seen the Wind ?

 

Who has seen the wind ?

Neither I nor you.

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

 

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

 

 

 

 

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