1916年复活节
(此诗为叶芝作于1916年10月24日,即复活记翌日,爱尔兰共和国兄弟会在都柏林发动起义,宣布爱尔兰共和国成立,约七百人的爱尔兰志愿者军队占领了部分市区。至29日,起义军被英军镇压,15位领导人遇害。诗中的绿色是爱尔兰的国色。)
I have met them at close of day
Coming with
vivid faces
From counter
or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have
passed with a nod of the head
Or polite
meaningless words,
Or have
lingered awhile and said
Polite
meaningless words,
And thought
before I had done
Of a mocking
tale or a gibe
To please a
companion
Around the
fire at the club,
Being
certain that they and I
But lived
where motley is worn:
All changed,
changed utterly:
A terrible
beauty is born.
我曾在黄昏时分遇见他们,
一张张鲜活的面容
从十八世纪灰暗的房子中
写字台和柜台的后面。
擦肩而过时,我点点头
或客套地说些闲话,
或偶尔有事耽误片刻
——纯粹出于礼貌的。
而话未说完我就想到
一个讽刺故事或者趣闻,
为了在俱乐部拥火而坐
给伙伴将来开心,
因为我确信他们和我
不过像小丑一般生活:
一切都变了,那样彻底,
一种可怕的美已经诞生。
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant
good-will,
Her nights
is argument
Until her
voice grew shrill.
What voice
more sweet than hers
When, young
and beautiful,
She rode to
harriers?
This man had
kept a school
And rode our
wingèd horse;
This other
his helper and friend
Was coming
into his force;
He might
have won fame in the end,
So sensitive
his nature seemed,
So daring
and sweet his thought.
This other
man I had dreamed
A drunken,
vainglorious lout.
He had done
most bitter wrong
To some who
are near my heart,
Yet I number
him in the song;
He, too, has
resigned his part
In the
casual comedy;
He, too, has
been changed in his turn,
Transformed
utterly:
A terrible
beauty is born.
那个女人把白天都耗费在
天真无知的善意里面,
夜晚则是与人争辩
直到嗓音变尖。
而她曾经也年轻动人,
骑着马儿去狩猎,
那时甜美的嗓音谁人能比?
这个男人曾开办学校,
还曾和我们共乘白马;
另一个是他的助手和朋友,
与他联合帮他出谋划策,
也许他最终会赢得名声,
他天性敏感异常,
而且思想无畏而新颖。
我所想到的另一个人
是个虚荣粗俗的酒鬼。
他曾对我心上的人儿
做过十分恶劣的事情,
我却仍把他写进诗中,
他也辞去了即兴的喜剧中
所扮演的那个角色;
在他上场时也改变了,
彻头彻尾地作了更改:
一种恐惧的美已经诞生。
Hearts
with one purpose alone
Through
summer and winter seem
Enchanted to
a stone
To trouble
the living stream.
The horse
that comes from the road,
The rider,
the birds that range
From cloud
to tumbling cloud,
Minute by
minute they change;
A shadow of
cloud on the stream
Changes
minute by minute;
A horse-hoof
slides on the brim,
And a horse
plashes within it;
The
long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to
moor-cocks call;
Minute to
minute they live;
The stone's
in the midst of all.
众多的心目标一致,
在盛夏与严冬过后,
仿佛被魔法变为一块顽石
要把那活泼的溪流阻扰。
大路上奔驰而来的马匹,
骑马的人和那
飞翔在云层间的鸟儿,
分秒不停地变幻;
溪流上飘着云彩的影子,
分秒不停地变幻;
一只马蹄陷入溪水边,
一匹马在溪中溅起水花,
长腿的雏鸡拍翅飞落,
雌鸡将雄鸡呼唤不止;
分分秒秒,它们生活:
那顽石便在这所有的中间。
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a
stone of the heart.
O when may
it suffice?
That is
Heaven's part, our part
To murmur
name upon name,
As a mother
names her child
When sleep
at last has come
On limbs
that had run wild.
What is it
but nightfall?
No, no, not
night but death;
Was it
needless death after all?
For England
may keep faith
For all that
is done and said.
We know
their dream; enough
To know they
dreamed and are dead;
And what if
excess of love
Bewildered
them till they died?
I write it
out in a verse ——
MacDonagh
and MacBride
And Connolly
and Pearse
Now and in
time to be,
Wherever
green is worn,
Are changed,
changed utterly:
A terrible
beauty is born.
一场牺牲奉献得太久,
能把心灵化为一块顽石。
啊,何时才能结束?
那是天意,我们的命运
是轻唤出一个个的姓名,
正如母亲召唤她的孩子,
当沉迷的睡意最终来到
狂野地奔驰的肢体之上时。
除却夜色又会是什么?
不,并非黑夜而是死亡;
而这死亡是否值得?
因为英国或许会坚守信义,
对于所说的和所做的全部,
我了解他们的梦境,
了解他们曾梦过然后死亡,
够了,就算曾经有过多的爱
使他们困惑到死又如何?
我用诗笔一一写出——
麦克多纳和麦克布莱德,还有康诺利和皮尔斯,
不管现在或是未来,
只要还有地方将绿色佩戴,
都会改变,彻底改变:
一种恐惧的美已经诞生。