切斯特顿诗歌｜重来的童真
即使所有日子都将结束，
而我再没有歌可以哼唱，
我想我也不至于老得
无法凝视周围的一切；
像儿时盯着看育幼院的门，
看一棵大树、一架秋千。
主的慈仁沉沉地挂在
我的身体和罪愆上，
因为他没有从树上
去除那恐惧、威严，
路上的石头依然闪亮
似真，亦幻。
人老了，不再爱了，我的爱，
人老了，不贪杯了，
但再老我也能看见
天上的光亮，
将我室内的尘土化作雪，
疑似不在人间。
看，冠冕上慈恩在融泄，
最初的惊奇凝留；
在我的渣滓里抛下一件
我不敢奢求的礼物:
一个男人习惯了悲喜，
却不曾厌倦黑夜、白天。
人老了，不再爱了，我的爱，
人老了，不再编造谎言；
但再老我也能看见
如磐的黑夜升起，
笼罩天地的一片乌云
和全身眼球的怪兽。
我何德何能，既
解不开我的鞋带，
也掸不掉脚上的尘土；
不配得到那手杖，扶我走过
太过美好的旅途，
太过坚实的道路。
人老了，忘了如何求欢，我的爱，
人老了，忘了如何恩爱:
但再老我也能看见
不可思议的木筏
悬浮在头顶，那时我醒来，
发现生命还在延续。
发丝间一阵雷动:
虽然乌云近在眼前，
却还是被第一滴雨
刺痛，被它惊醒:
爱恋、荣耀、激情已经过去，
留下的只有这些。
青草是绵延的奇异地毯，
蓝天是敞亮的窗口:
就这样，我背负所有的罪
惶恐地步入主的恩典:
我会日渐衰老，直到死去，
世界却不断地翻新、变幻。
A Second Childhood
-G.K. Chesterton
When all my days are ending
And I have no song to sing,
I think I shall not be too old
To stare at everything;
As I stared once at a nursery door
Or a tall tree and a swing.
Wherein God's ponderous mercy hangs
On all my sins and me,
Because He does not take away
The terror from the tree
And stones still shine along the road
That are, and cannot be.
Men grow too old for love, my love,
Men grow too old for wine,
But I shall not grow too old to see
Unearthly daylight shine,
Changing my chamber's dust to snow
Till I doubt if it be mine.
Behold, the crowning mercies melt,
The first surprises stay;
And in my dross is dropped a gift
For which I dare not pray:
That a man grow used to grief and joy
But not to night and day.
Men grow too old for love, my love,
Men grow too old for lies;
But I shall not grow too old to see
Enormous night arise,
A cloud that is larger than the world
And a monster made of eyes.
Nor am I worthy to unloose
The latchet of my shoe;
Or shake the dust from off my feet
Or the staff that bears me through
On ground that is too good to last,
Too solid to be true.
Men grow too old to woo, my love,
Men grow too old to wed:
But I shall not grow too old to see
Hung crazily overhead
Incredible rafters when I wake
And find I am not dead.
A thrill of thunder in my hair:
Though blackening clouds be plain,
Still I am stung and startled
By the first drop of the rain:
Romance and pride and passion pass
And these are what remain.
Strange crawling carpets of the grass,
Wide windows of the sky:
So in this perilous grace of God
With all my sins go I:
And things grow new though I grow old,
Though I grow old and die.
切斯特顿作于1922年，本诗中译者为@zebrawow1