叶芝诗14首
威廉·巴特勒·叶芝（1865年6月13日~1939年1月28日），亦译“叶慈”、“耶茨”，爱尔兰诗人、剧作家和散文家，著名的神秘主义者，是“爱尔兰文艺复兴运动”的领袖，也是艾比剧院（Abbey Theatre）的创建者之一。叶芝的诗受浪漫主义、唯美主义、神秘主义、象征主义和玄学诗的影响，演变出其独特的风格。叶芝的艺术代表着英语诗从传统到现代过渡的缩影。叶芝早年的创作具有浪漫主义的华丽风格，善于营造梦幻般的氛围，在1893年出版的散文集《凯尔特的薄暮》，便属于此风格。然而进入不惑之年后，在现代主义诗人艾兹拉·庞德等人的影响下，尤其是在其本人参与爱尔兰民族主义政治运动的切身经验的影响下，叶芝的创作风格发生了比较激烈的变化，更加趋近现代主义了。
The Song of the Happy Shepherd
The woods of Arcady are dead,
And over is their antique joy;
Of old the world on dreaming fed;
Grey Truth is now her painted toy;
Yet still she turns her restless head:
But O, sick children of the world,
Of all the many changing things
In dreary dancing past us whirled,
To the cracked tune that Chronos sings,
Words alone are certain good.
Where are now the warring kings,
Word be-mockers?—By the Rood,
Where are now the warring kings?
An idle word is now their glory,
By the stammering schoolboy said,
Reading some entangled story:
The kings of the old time are dead;
The wandering earth herself may be
Only a sudden flaming word,
In clanging space a moment heard,
Troubling the endless reverie.
Then nowise worship dusty deeds,
Nor seek, for this is also sooth,
To hunger fiercely after truth,
Lest all thy toiling only breeds
New dreams, new dreams; there is no truth
Saving in thine own heart. Seek, then,
No learning from the starry men,
Who follow with the optic glass
The whirling ways of stars that pass—
Seek, then, for this is also sooth,
No word of theirs—the cold star-bane
Has cloven and rent their hearts in twain,
And dead is all their human truth.
Go gather by the humming sea
Some twisted, echo-harbouring shell,
And to its lips thy story tell,
And they thy comforters will be,
Rewording in melodious guile
Thy fretful words a little while,
Till they shall singing fade in ruth
And die a pearly brotherhood;
For words alone are certain good:
Sing, then, for this is also sooth.
I must be gone: there is a grave
Where daffodil and lily wave,
And I would please the hapless faun,
Buried under the sleepy ground,
With mirthful songs before the dawn.
His shouting days with mirth were crowned;
And still I dream he treads the lawn,
Walking ghostly in the dew,
Pierced by my glad singing through,
My songs of old earth's dreamy youth:
But ah! she dreams not now; dream thou!
For fair are poppies on the brow:
Dream, dream, for this is also sooth.
快乐的牧人之歌
阿卡狄的丛林已经死去，
他们古老的欢乐也已过去；
世界靠梦想怀古不已，
灰色真理是她涂彩的玩具；
但她那不安的头仍在转动；
噢，世上有病的孩儿们，
所有一切变动的事物中，
按克罗诺斯的陈腔滥调
令人厌倦地旋舞而去，
唯有词章真正美丽。
黩武的君王如今安在，
他们嘲弄词章——老天爷，
黩武的君王如今安在？
儿童读纠缠不清的故事，
结结巴巴说出的一句废话，
就是那些君王的光荣，
旧时代的君王已经死了。
也许转悠的地球本身
不过是突然燃烧的字眼，
一瞬间听见克朗一声，
惊扰了无穷无尽的梦幻。
因此崇拜尘封的遗迹
并不聪明，这也是真的，
毋须去奋力追求真理，
你一切辛劳只会在梦上加梦。
只有你心中存在真理。
因此不必向占星家学习，
他们用天文镜追踪流星旋转的路——
因此这也是真的，不去听
他们的话——冰冷的星毒
已经劈开了、分裂了他们的心灵，
他们关于人的真理已经死尽。
到浅吟轻唱的海边
去捡些曲折的、暗藏着回音的贝壳，
将你的故事对着它的唇诉说，
他们会成为你的安慰者，
一瞬间把你烦恼的字句
重铸成优美的曲调，
直到他们哀伤地唱着消隐，
和珍珠兄弟死在一道。
因为唯有词章真正美丽，
唱吧，因为这也是真理。
我得走了！在一座坟上，
百合和黄水仙飘荡，
我将取悦于不幸的牧神，
用快乐的歌声迎接曙光，
他葬身于睡意浓浓的土下方；
我还梦见他行走草地，
在露水间幽魂般游荡，
浸透了我快乐的歌吟，
关于古老土地的多梦的青春。
啊，她不再做梦了，你做梦吧！
因为山崖上罂粟花开得美丽，
梦吧，梦吧，因为这也是真理。
The Stolen Child
Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you
can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you
can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you
can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
From a world more full of weeping than he
can understand.
被盗的孩子
湖中的斯硫斯丛林
嶙峋高地下沉的地方，
有一个枝叶繁茂的小岛，
苍鹭拍打着翅膀，
把瞌睡的小鼠惊醒；
那里隐藏着仙人的大桶，
装满了草莓
和偷来的鲜红樱桃；
来，人之子呀，
到湖滨旷野来吧，
手拉手，与仙人一道，
因世界充满泪水非你能知晓。
月波用光照亮
朦胧的灰色沙滩，
在罗赛斯最远的远方
我们通宵跳舞
交织着古老的舞蹈，
手握着手，眼波相交，
直到月儿遁逃；
我们蹦蹦跳跳
追逐那浪花水泡，
而世界充满苦恼
连觉也睡不好。
来，人之子呀，
到湖滨旷野来吧，
手拉手，与仙人一道，
因世界充满泪水非你能知晓。
弯弯曲曲的流水
从格伦卡上的山头喷涌，
穿过芦苇成了水潭，
不见星星沐浴水中，
我们寻找睡中的鳟鱼
在它们耳边悄悄诉说，
给它们不安的梦；
年轻的溪水上
蕨类在垂泪，
我们悄悄侧身走出来；
来，人之子呀，
到湖滨旷野来吧，
手拉手，与仙人一道，
因世界充满泪水非你能知晓。
他跟着我们来了，
神色庄重；
他不想再听小牛犊
在暖洋洋的山腰低鸣，
也不想炉架上的水壶
为他的心带来安宁，
或者看棕色的鼠
绕着燕麦柜跳蹦，
因为他来了，人之子，
来到了湖滨和旷野，
手拉手，和仙人一道，
从一个充满泪水的非他能知晓的世界。
硫斯丛林：位于斯拉哥郡境内。
罗赛斯：斯拉哥附近一个海滨渔村。
格伦卡：斯拉哥境内的一个湖名。
Down by the Salley Gardens
Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.
柳园里
柳园里我和心爱者曾经相遇，
她雪白的小脚从柳园走过去。
她要我把爱情看淡些，像树上长绿叶；
但我年轻而愚蠢，却不肯同意。
我和心爱者站在河边草地上，
她把雪白的手往我前倾的肩头放。
她要我把人生看淡些，像坟上长绿草；
但我年轻而愚蠢，如今泪如潮。
To the Rose upon the Rood of Time
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!
Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways:
Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;
The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed,
Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;
And thine own sadness, whereof stars, grown old
In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,
Sing in their high and lonely melody.
Come near, that no more blinded by man's fate,
I find under the boughs of love and hate,
In all poor foolish things that live a day,
Eternal beauty wandering on her way.
Come near, come near, come near—Ah, leave me still
A little space for the rose-breath to fill!
Lest I no more hear common things that crave;
The weak worm hiding down in its small cave,
The field-mouse running by me in the grass,
And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass;
But seek alone to hear the strange things said
By God to the bright hearts of those long dead,
And learn to chaunt a tongue men do not know.
Come near; I would, before my time to go,
Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.
致时间十字架上的玫瑰
伴我终生的玫瑰，骄傲的玫瑰，悲哀的玫瑰！
当我歌唱古代的生活，请走近来：
和险恶的海浪战斗的库胡林勇士；
那头发灰白，眼神平静，丛林哺育的祭司，
他为弗格斯制造了梦和无穷之灾；
你自己的关于星群变老的悲哀，
穿着银色木屐在海上舞蹈，
唱他们高亢而孤独的曲调。
走近来，不要再为人类的命运迷误，
我发现在爱和恨的枝条下面，
在一切可怜的只活一天的蠢物之间，
永恒之美一路漫游向前。
走近来，走近来，走近来——啊，给我留一点
玫瑰气息充填的空间！
免得我听不到平凡事物渴求之声：
躲在小洞里衰弱的虫子，
从我身边草地上跑过的老鼠，
人类为之奋斗终成过去的沉重希望；
而只要求听到那些怪事情
上帝说给长逝者明亮的心灵谛听，
学会唱一支人们不知的曲调。
走近来，在我离开以前我想要
把古老的爱尔兰和古代故事唱一回：
伴我终生的红玫瑰，骄傲的玫瑰，悲哀的玫瑰。
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping
slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket
sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
茵纳斯弗利岛
我就要动身走了，去茵纳斯弗利岛，
搭起一个小屋子，筑起泥巴房；
支起九行芸豆架，一排蜜蜂巢，
独自住着，荫阴下听蜂群歌唱。
我就会得到安宁，因它徐徐下降，
从朝露落到蟋蟀歌唱的地方；
午夜是一片闪亮，正午是一片紫光，
傍晚到处飞舞着红雀的翅膀。
我就要动身走了，因为我听到
那水声日日夜夜轻拍着湖滨；
不管我站在车行道或灰暗的人行道，
都在我心灵的深处听见这声音。
茵纳斯弗利岛：爱尔兰一个湖中小岛。
When You are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
当你老了
当你老了，头白了，睡思昏沉，
炉火旁打盹，请取下这部诗歌，
慢慢读，回想你过去眼神的柔和，
回想它们昔日浓重的阴影；
多少人爱你青春欢畅的时辰，
爱慕你的美丽，假意或真心，
只有一个人爱你那朝圣者的灵魂，
爱你衰老了的脸上痛苦的皱纹；
垂下头来，在红光闪耀的炉子旁，
凄然地轻轻诉说那爱情的消逝，
在头顶的山上它缓缓踱着步子，
在一群星星中间隐藏着脸庞。
The White Birds
I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the
foam of the sea!
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade
and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low
on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness
that may not die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-
dabbled, the lily and rose;
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the
meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low
in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the
wandering foam: I and you!
I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a
Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow
come near us no more;
Soon far from the rose and the lily and fret of the
flames would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out
on the foam of the sea!
白 鸟
但愿我俩是，亲爱的，飞翔海波上的一对白鸟，
流星的火焰叫我们厌倦，虽说它尚未隐消；
金星的蓝色火焰，低垂于天空的边上，
在我们心中，亲爱的，引起了永不消逝的哀伤。
厌倦来自梦幻者，沾上雾珠的百合和玫瑰，
噢，别梦想他们，亲爱的，那消逝的流星的光彩，
也不要梦想蓝星的残焰，低垂于下降的露里，
但愿我俩是一对白鸟，飞翔于海波上，我和你！
无数的岛屿和优美的海岸使我陶醉，
时间会忘却我们，痛苦也不会再来，
快快离开百合和玫瑰，那愁人的星光，
但愿我们是一对白鸟，亲爱的，飞翔于海波上。
To Ireland in the Coming Times
Know, that I would accounted be
True brother of a company
That sang, to sweeten Ireland's wrong,
Ballad and story, rann and song;
Nor be I any less of them,
Because the red-rose-bordered hem
Of her, whose history began
Before God made the angelic clan,
Trails all about the written page.
When Time began to rant and rage
The measure of her flying feet
Made Ireland's heart begin to beat;
And Time bade all his candles flare
To light a measure here and there;
And may the thoughts of Ireland brood
Upon a measured quietude.
Nor may I less be counted one
With Davis, Mangan, Ferguson,
Because, to him who ponders well,
My rhymes more than their rhyming tell
Of things discovered in the deep,
Where only body's laid asleep.
For the elemental creatures go
About my table to and fro,
That hurry from unmeasured mind
To rant and rage in flood and wind;
Yet he who treads in measured ways
May surely barter gaze for gaze.
Man ever journeys on with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
Ah, faeries, dancing under the moon,
A Druid land, a Druid tune!
While still I may, I write for you
The love I lived, the dream I knew.
From our birthday, until we die,
Is but the winking of an eye;
And we, our singing and our love,
What measurer Time has lit above,
And all benighted things that go
About my table to and fro,
Are passing on to where may be,
In truth's consuming ecstasy,
No place for love and dream at all;
For God goes by with white footfall.
I cast my heart into my rhymes,
That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
致未来爱尔兰
要明白，我愿意被大家认同
是那一伙人的忠实弟兄，
他们唱着歌使爱尔兰伤痛减轻，
用民谣，故事，俚曲，歌行；
而且，我也不愿比哪一个逊色，
因为她那红玫瑰镶边的服饰，
在上帝创造这天使般的民族之前，
就把自己的历史写在书页之间；
因为在世界最初的开花年代，
她飞奔的双脚轻轻下坠，
使爱尔兰的心儿开始跳跃；
如今星光之烛仍在闪耀，
帮助她的脚轻轻地起落；
如今，爱尔兰之魂
仍在神圣的静谧中沉吟。
也不要把我这个人当成
不如台维斯，曼根，费格生，
因为对一个深思熟虑的人，
我的诗比他们讲得更鲜明。
那隐约的智慧，古老而深沉，
上帝把它只给睡中人。
四大元素引来的种种，
在我桌子旁来回走动，
化为水，火，土，风，
从未曾测知的人的头脑向外涌。
狂嘶暴吼的洪水巨风。
但肃步行进的人
准会遇到他们古老的眼神。
人类永远和他们一道前进，
追随那红玫瑰镶边的衣襟。
啊，仙女们，在月光下舞蹈，
巫师的故国，巫师的曲调！
只要我能够，我要为你歌诵
我经历的爱，我做过的梦。
从我们诞生一直到死亡
不过是一眨眼时光，
而我们，我们的歌唱和爱情，
能在时间洪流闪耀多久，
并且那引来的种种，
在我桌子旁来回走动，
这一切正走向该去的地点，
那真理之融化一切的极乐天，
那绝不是谈爱做梦之地，
上帝踩着雪白的脚走去。
我把心铸入了我的诗行，
使你们在隐约的未来时光，
会明白我的心与他们同往，
追随那红玫瑰镶边的衣裳。
The Lover Tells of the Rose in his Heart
All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out
and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a
lumbering cart,
The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the
wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in
the deeps of my heart.
The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great
to be told;
I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll
apart,
With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made,
like a casket of gold
For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose
in the deeps of my heart.
情人诉说他心中的玫瑰
所有的破烂丑陋，所有的陈旧荒芜，
路旁孩儿的啼哭，嘎吱的笨重货车，
耕者的沉重脚步粉碎着冬天的泥土，
都扭曲你的形象——我心底怒放的玫瑰。
不美之物的坏处，坏得没法讲明，
我渴望重建它们，独坐在翠绿的山丘，
土地、太阳、河水重铸为一匣黄金，
为梦中你的形象——玫瑰怒放在心头。
Into the Twilight
Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight,
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.
Your mother Eire is always young,
Dew ever shining and twilight grey;
Though hope fall from you and love decay,
Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.
Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill:
For there the mystical brotherhood
Of sun and moon and hollow and wood
And river and stream work out their will;
And God stands winding His lonely horn,
And time and the world are ever in flight;
And love is less kind than the grey twilight,
And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn.
进入曙光来
衰老的心，衰老的时代，
来，跳出是非的罗网；
叹息吧，心啊，又见到朝露，
笑吧，心啊，又见到灰色曙光。
你母亲爱林永远年轻，
曙光灰灰，露珠晶晶；
希望虽失落，爱情虽衰退，
在蜚言诽语的火中燃尽。
心呵，到深山叠峦来，
那里日月幽谷和丛林、
河流和溪水的意愿
正表现为神秘的友情。
上帝站着吹他寂寞的号角，
时间和世界流逝无尽，
爱情不如灰灰的曙光和善，
希望不如朝露可亲。
爱林：即爱尔兰古称。
The Song of Wandering Aengus
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
安格斯漫游歌
走出门到榛树林，
胸中憋着一窝火，
割削一根榛树棍，
悬上一线挂个果；
此时白蛾正四飞，
蛾般星群正闪耀，
我把果子掷下溪，
银色鳟鱼捉一条。
我把鳟鱼放地上，
吹得炉火旺又高，
什么东西地上响，
有人把我姓名叫；
光彩闪闪姑娘显，
一头秀发苹果颜，
边呼我名边奔前，
一片光亮不再见。
穿过低谷和高山，
垂垂老矣四方游，
我要找到这姑娘，
吻她唇来握她手。
长草驳杂我走过，
采摘月亮银苹果，
采摘太阳金苹果，
采到时间成虚无。
He Tells of the Perfect Beauty
O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman's gaze
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,
Before the unlabouring stars and you.
他诉说十全的美
呵，白皙的眼睑，迷惘的眼，
为了用韵文塑出十全的美，
诗人们终生辛劳不停，
却被一个女人的注视而毁，
也被天空逍遥的部族所毁；
因此当露水撒下睡意，我的心
愿向你和自在的星星致敬，
直到上帝把时间烧尽。
The Fiddler of Dooney
When I play on my fiddle in Dooney,
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Mocharabuiee.
I passed my brother and cousin:
They read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.
When we come at the end of time
To Peter sitting in state,
He will smile on the three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;
For the good are always the merry,
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle,
And the merry love to dance:
And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With 'Here is the fiddler of Dooney!'
And dance like a wave of the sea.
Pronounced as if spelt ‘mockrabwee’.
杜纳的琴手
我在杜纳奏起琴，
乡亲舞蹈如浪滚，
表兄在乡当牧师，
兄弟布道毛克镇；
兄弟表亲身边过，
他们埋头读《圣经》，
我诵我的歌谣本，
斯拉市上新商品。
一生终于到尽头，
彼得肃坐天门口，
面对三老露微笑，
彼得叫我领先走。
好人永远得欢乐，
除非恶运临了门，
欢乐热爱舞蹈人，
欢乐热爱小提琴；
那里人们一见我，
全都来到我面前，
“这是杜纳好琴手！”
跳起舞来浪飞旋。
The arrow
I thought of your beauty, and this arrow,
Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow.
There's no man may look upon her, no man,
As when newly grown to be a woman,
Tall and noble but with face and bosom
Delicate in colour as apple blossom.
This beauty's kinder, yet for a reason
I could weep that the old is out of season.
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