威廉·布莱克诗20首
威廉·布莱克（William Blake），英国第一位重要的浪漫主义诗人、版画家，英国文学史上最重要的伟大诗人之一，虔诚的基督教徒。主要诗作有诗集《纯真之歌》《经验之歌》等。早期作品简洁明快，中后期作品趋向玄妙深沉，充满神秘色彩。他一生中与妻子相依为命，以绘画和雕版的劳酬过着简单平静的创作生活。后来诗人叶芝等人重编了他的诗集，人们才惊讶于他的虔诚与深刻。接着是他的书信和笔记的陆续发表，他的神启式的伟大画作也逐渐被世人所认知，于是诗人与画家布莱克在艺术界的崇高地位从此确立无疑。
To Spring
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Through the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
The hills tell each other, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavilions. Issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.
Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
O deck her forth with thy fair fingers. Pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom, and put
Thy golden crown upon her languished head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.
To Autumn
O Autumn, laden with fruit and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof! There thou may'st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance.
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers:
'The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest eve,
Till clustering Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feathered clouds strew flowers round her head.
The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.'
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight—but left his golden load.
咏秋
秋呵，你满载果实，又深染着
葡萄的血；不要走吧，请坐在
我的檐下；你可以歇在那儿，
用愉快的调子配合我的芦笛，
一年的女儿们都要舞蹈了！
请唱出果实与花的丰满的歌。
“瘦小的花苞对太阳展示出
她的美，爱情在她的血里周流；
锦簇的花挂在清晨的额前，
直垂到娴静的黄昏的红颊上；
于是稠密的夏季发出歌声，
羽毛的云彩在她头上撒着花。
等大气的精灵住在果实的
香味上，欢乐就轻轻展开翅膀
在园中回荡，或落在树梢唱歌。”
愉快的秋坐下，对我这样唱着；
接着他起身，束紧腰带，便隐没
在荒山后，却抛下金色的负载。
To Winter
O Winter, bar thine adamantine doors!
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchained. Sheathed
In ribbed steel, I dare not lift mine eyes;
For he hath reared his sceptre o'er the world.
Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks;
He withers all in silence, and his hand
Unclothes the earth and freezes up frail life.
He takes his seat upon the cliffs; the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch! that deal'st
With storms—till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driven yelling to his caves beneath Mount Hecla.
咏冬
冬呵！闩上你所有铁石的门：
北方才是你的；你在那里筑有
幽暗而深藏的住所。别摇动
你的屋顶吧，别放出你的铁车。
但他不理我，却从无底的深渊
驾车而来；他的风暴原锁在
钢筋上，出笼了；我不敢抬眼，
因为他在全世界掌握了权柄。
你看这恶魔！他的皮紧包着
强大的骨骼，把山石踩得呻吟；
他使一切悄然萎缩，他的手
剥光大地，冻僵了脆弱的生命。
他坐在峭壁上：水手枉然呼喊。
可怜的人呵，必须和风暴挣扎！
等着吧，天空微笑时，这恶魔
就被逐回洞中，回到赫克拉山下。
To the Evening Star
Thou fair-haired angel of the evening,
Now, while the sun rests on the mountains, light
Thy bright torch of love! Thy radiant crown
Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
Smile on our loves; and, while thou drawest the
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes
In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on
The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,
And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,
Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,
And the lion glares through the dun forest.
The fleeces of our flocks are covered with
Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence.
给黄昏的星
你呵，黄昏的金发的使者，
太阳正歇在山巅，点起你的
爱情的火炬吧：把你的明冠
戴上，对我们的夜榻微笑！
对爱情微笑吧；而当你拉起
蔚蓝的天帷，请把你的银露
播给每朵阖眼欲睡的花。
让你的西风安歇在湖上，
以你闪烁的眼睛叙述寂静，
再用水银洗涤黑暗。很快的，
你就去了；于是狼出来猖獗，
狮子也从幽黑的森林张望。
请你护佑我们的羊群吧：
那羊毛已被满你神圣的露。
To Morning
O holy virgin, clad in purest white,
Unlock heaven's golden gates and issue forth!
Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light
Rise from the chambers of the east and bring
The honeyed dew that cometh on waking day.
O radiant morning, salute the sun,
Roused like a huntsman to the chase; and, with
Thy buskined feet, appear upon our hills.
给清晨
圣处女呵，你穿着最洁白的衣裳，
请打开天庭的金门，走出来吧；
唤醒那沉睡在天宇的晨曦，让光
从东方的殿堂升起，把甜蜜的露
随苏醒的白日一起带给我们。
哦，灿烂的清晨，向太阳候问，
有如猎人，要起身出来游猎，
让你穿靴的脚出现在我们山中。
Song
How sweet I roamed from field to field
And tasted all the summer's pride,
Till I the prince of love beheld,
Who in the sunny beams did glide.
He showed me lilies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his gardens fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.
With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
And Phoebus fired my vocal rage.
He caught me in his silken net,
And shut me in his golden cage.
He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then laughing sports and plays with me—
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.
歌
我在田野里快乐地游荡，
遍尝到夏日的一切骄矜；
直到我看见爱情之王
随着太阳的光线而飘行。
他把百合花插到我发间，
鲜红的玫瑰结在我前额；
他领我走过他的花园，
那儿长满他金色的欢乐。
我的翅膀沾着五月的露，
菲伯燃起了我的歌喉；
他用丝网突然将我网住，
就把我在他的金笼拘留。
他喜欢坐下听我歌唱，
唱完了，又和我笑闹不休，
他会拉开我金色的翅膀，
嘲弄我何以失去了自由。
Song
My silks and fine array,
My smiles and languished air,
By love are driven away;
And mournful lean Despair
Brings me yew to deck my grave:
Such end true lovers have.
His face is fair as heaven,
When springing buds unfold;
O why to him was't given,
Whose heart is wintry cold?
His breast is love's all-worshipped tomb,
Where all love's pilgrims come.
Bring me an axe and spade,
Bring me a winding sheet;
When I my grave have made,
Let winds and tempests beat.
Then down I'll lie, as cold as clay;
True love doth pass away.
歌
我的倦慵之姿和微笑，
我的丝绸、华服和盛装，
都已被爱情扫荡完了；
而悲哀的、干瘪的“绝望”
就给我水松来装饰坟墓：
这正是忠诚恋人的归宿。
他的容貌美好如天庭，
当花苞初露，正待开花；
呵，他的心可冷似严冬，
何以这容貌却给了他？
他的心是爱情的陵地，
爱的膜拜者都来到这里。
请给我斧子和铁镐，
再给我拿来一件尸衣；
等我把我的墓穴掘好，
让雷雨交加，风儿凄厉：
那我就躺下，全身冰冷。
从此死去真诚的爱情！
Song
Love and harmony combine,
And around our souls entwine,
While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join.
Joys upon our branches sit,
Chirping loud and singing sweet;
Like gentle streams beneath our feet,
Innocence and virtue meet.
Thou the golden fruit dost bear,
I am clad in flowers fair;
Thy sweet boughs perfume the air,
And the turtle buildeth there.
There she sits and feeds her young,
Sweet I hear her mournful song;
And thy lovely leaves among,
There is Love: I hear his tongue.
There his charming nest doth lay,
There he sleeps the night away;
There he sports along the day,
And doth among our branches play.
歌
爱情与和谐拉手
把我们的灵魂缠绕，
当你我的枝叶汇合，
我们的根须相交。
欢乐坐在我们的枝头，
唧唧地、甜蜜地作歌，
像我们脚下的溪水相会，
真纯汇合了美德。
你结出金色的果实，
我全身穿着鲜花；
你的枝叶使空气芬芳，
海龟就在下面筑家。
她坐那儿抚养子女，
我听着她的幽怨之曲；
“爱情”在你的枝叶上面，
我也听到他的言语。
他在那儿有美丽的巢，
他在那儿睡了一整晚，
白天他就欢笑起来，
在我们的枝头游玩。
Song
I love the jocund dance,
The softly-breathing song,
Where innocent eyes do glance,
And where lisps the maiden's tongue.
I love the laughing vale,
I love the echoing hill,
Where mirth does never fail,
And the jolly swain laughs his fill.
I love the pleasant cot,
I love the innocent bower.
Where white and brown is our lot,
Or fruit in the midday hour.
I love the oaken seat
Beneath the oaken tree,
Where all the old villagers meet,
And laugh our sports to see.
I love our neighbours all,
But, Kitty, I better love thee;
And love them I ever shall;
But thou art all to me.
歌
我爱快乐的舞蹈
和轻轻吟唱的歌曲，
纯洁的目光在闪射，
少女咬着舌头低语。
我爱欢笑的山谷，
我爱山中的回音缭绕，
那儿欢乐永不中断，
小伙子尽情地笑闹。
我爱幽静的茅屋，
我爱无忧的亭荫，
我们的园地褐白交错，
像日午果子的鲜明。
我爱那橡木座位
在高大的橡树荫下，
所有的老农聚起来
哈哈笑着，看我们玩耍。
我爱我所有的邻人——
可是呵，凯蒂，我更爱你：
我将要永远爱他们，
但你是一切加在一起。
Song
Memory, hither come,
And tune your merry notes;
And, while upon the wind
Your music floats,
I'll pore upon the stream,
Where sighing lovers dream,
And fish for fancies as they pass
Within the watery glass.
I'll drink of the clear stream,
And hear the linnet's song;
And there I'll lie and dream
The day along:
And, when night comes, I'll go
To places fit for woe;
Walking along the darkened valley
With silent melancholy.
歌
记忆呵，到这儿来，
鸣啭你欢快的歌喉，
而当你的乐音
在风的胸怀上飘流，
我将坐在溪边冥想，
在叹息的恋人近旁；
我要在水的明镜中
钓起一个个的幻梦。
我将啜饮那清水，
并且听红雀歌唱；
我要在那儿躺下，
整天不断地梦想：
天黑了，我就走向
那宜于伤心的地方，
和沉默的忧郁一起
沿着幽黑的谷踱去。
Mad Song
The wild winds weep,
And the night, is a-cold;
Come hither, Sleep,
And my griefs enfold.
But lo! the morning peeps
Over the eastern steeps,
And the rustling birds of dawn
The earth do scorn.
Lo! to the vault
Of paved heaven,
With sorrow fraught
My notes are driven;
They strike the ear of night,
Make weep the eyes of day;
They make mad the roaring winds,
And with tempests play.
Like a fiend in a cloud
With howling woe,
After night I do crowd,
And with night will go;
I turn my back to the east,
From whence comforts have increased;
For light doth seize my brain
With frantic pain.
狂歌
狂暴的风在哭喊，
黑夜冷得抖索；
到这儿来吧，睡眠，
把我的悲哀掩没！……
可是呵，一转眼，
曙光已窥视东山，
晨鸟正振起双翼
轻蔑地离开大地。
噢！但我的歌声
却充满了忧伤，
一直升抵天穹；
它在夜的耳腔
流过，振荡，又使得
白日的眼睛哭泣；
它激起了狂吼的风，
又和风暴嬉戏。
像云端的魔鬼，
我凄然发出哀音
只把黑夜追随；
夜去了，我也消隐。
我要背向东方，
喜悦在那儿滋长；
因为呵，我最怕光明，
它刺痛我的脑筋。
Song
Fresh from the dewy hill, the merry year
Smiles on my head and mounts his flaming car;
Round my young brows the laurel wreathes a shade,
And rising glories beam around my head.
My feet are winged, while o'er the dewy lawn,
I meet my maiden, risen like the morn.
Oh, bless those holy feet, like angels' feet;
Oh, bless those limbs, beaming with heavenly light!
Like as an angel glittering in the sky,
In times of innocence and holy joy—
The joyful shepherd stops his grateful song
To hear the music of an angel's tongue.
So when she speaks, the voice of heaven I hear;
So when we walk, nothing impure comes near;
Each field seems Eden, and each calm retreat;
Each village seems the haunt of holy feet.
But that sweet village where my black-eyed maid
Closes her eyes in sleep beneath night's shade,
Whene'er I enter, more than mortal fire
Burns in my soul and does my song inspire.
歌
刚离开露湿的山，快乐的“一年”
朝着我微笑，便登上流火的辇；
在我年轻的前额，桂花编织幻影，
跃升的光华在我的头上照明。
我的脚生着翅，在露湿的草地
我遇见我的姑娘，如初现的晨曦。
呵，祝福那神圣的脚，有如天使；
祝福那闪着天庭光辉的四肢！
仿佛一个天使，在空中闪烁，
在纯真的时代，充满神圣的欢乐；
快乐的牧童停住了他感谢的歌，
为了聆听那天使唇边的音乐。
同样，她开口，我便听到天庭之音，
我们同行，便没有不洁的能挨近；
每片田野，每个幽静处所都像伊甸，
每个村落都像天使走过的乐园。
但有一片恬静的村野，在那里
我黑眸的姑娘已伴着夜影安息，
每当我走近它，就有非凡的火
灼烧我的灵魂，并且引起我的歌。
Song
When early morn walks forth in sober grey,
Then to my black-eyed maid I haste away;
When evening sits beneath her dusky bower,
And gently sighs away the silent hour,
The village bell alarms—away I go,
And the vale darkens at my pensive woe.
To that sweet village, where my black-eyed maid
Doth drop a tear beneath the silent shade,
I turn my eyes; and, pensive as I go,
Curse my black stars and bless my pleasing woe.
Oft when the summer sleeps among the trees,
Whispering faint murmurs to the scanty breeze,
I walk the village round; if at her side,
A youth doth walk in stolen joy and pride,
I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe
That made my love so high, and me so low.
O should she e'er prove false, his limbs I'd tear,
And throw all pity on the burning air;
I'd curse bright fortune for my mixed lot,
And then I'd die in peace and be forgot.
歌
披着灰衣的晨曦刚走在路上，
我就去看我黑眸子的姑娘。
当黄昏坐在幽暗的亭荫里，
对着沉默的时刻轻轻叹息，
村里的钟也响了，我就出门，
山谷由于我的忧愁而变阴森。
我的眼睛望着那个好村庄：
在那恬静的树荫下，我的姑娘
洒过一滴泪；当我郁郁而行，
我诅咒厄运，又喜于我的伤心。
往常，当夏日在树荫里安眠，
而树叶对着微风低语喃喃，
我就绕村徘徊；要是在她身边
有个少年偷到骄矜和喜欢，
我会悲痛地诅咒我的星宿：
这使得我的爱和我天地悬殊。
噢，要是她负心，我就要把他
碎尸万段，把温情踩在脚下！
我要为我的坎坷诅咒人的福气，
然后静静死去，然后被人忘记。
To the Muses
Whether on Ida's shady brow,
Or in the chambers of the east,
The chambers of the sun, that now
From ancient melody have ceased;
Whether in heaven ye wander fair,
Or the green corners of the earth,
Or the blue regions of the air,
Where the melodious winds have birth;
Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,
Beneath the bosom of the sea
Wandering in many a coral grove,
Fair Nine, forsaking poetry!
How have you left the ancient love
That bards of old enjoyed in you!
The languid strings do scarcely move,
The sound is forced, the notes are few.
给缪斯
无论是在艾达荫翳的山顶，
或是在那东方的宫殿——
呵，太阳的宫殿，到如今
古代的乐音已不再听见；
无论是在你们漫游的天庭，
或是在大地青绿的一隅，
或是蔚蓝的磅礴气层——
吟唱的风就在那儿凝聚；
无论是在晶体的山石，
或是在海心底里漫游，
九位女神呵，遗弃了诗，
尽自在珊瑚林中行走；
何以舍弃了古老的爱情？
古歌者爱你们正为了它！
那脆弱的琴弦难于动人，
调子不但艰涩，而且贫乏！
Blind-Man's Buff
When silver snow decks Susan's clothes,
And jewel hangs at the shepherd's nose,
The blushing bank is all my care,
With hearth so red and walls so fair.
'Heap the sea-coal; come heap it higher;
The oaken log lay on the fire.'
The well-washed stools, a circling row,
With lad and lass, how fair the show!
The merry can of nut-brown ale,
The laughing jest, the love-sick tale,
Till tired of chat, the game begins;
The lasses prick the lads with pins;
Roger from Dolly twitched the stool,
She falling, kissed the ground, poor fool!
She blushed so red, with sidelong glance
At hob-nail Dick, who grieved the chance.
But now for blind-man's buff they call;
Of each encumbrance clear the hall—
Jenny her silken kerchief folds,
And blear-eyed Will the black lot holds.
Now laughing stops, with' Silence! hush!',
And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push.
The blind-man's arms, extended wide,
Sam slips between—'O woe betide
Thee, clumsy Will!'—but tittering Kate
Is penned up in the corner straight!
And now Will's eyes beheld the play,
He thought his face was t'other way.
Now, Kitty, now; what chance hast thou,
Roger so near thee trips, I vow!
She catches him—then Roger ties
His own head up—but not his eyes;
For through the slender cloth he sees,
And runs at Sam, who slips with ease
His clumsy hold, and, dodging round,
Sukey is tumbled on the ground!
See what it is to play unfair!
Where cheating is, there's mischief there.
But Roger still pursues the chase—
'He sees! he sees!' cries softly Grace;
O Roger, thou, unskilled in art,
Must, surer bound, go through thy part!
Now Kitty, pert, repeats the rhymes,
And Roger turns him round three times;
Then pauses ere he starts—but Dick
Was mischief bent upon a trick:
Down on his hands and knees he lay,
Directly in the blind-man's way—
Then cries out, 'Hem!'—Hodge heard and ran
With hood-winked chance—sure of his man;
But down he came. Alas, how frail
Our best of hopes, how soon they fail!
With crimson drops he stains the ground,
Confusion startles all around.
Poor piteous Dick supports his head,
And fain would cure the hurt he made;
But Kitty hasted with a key,
And down his back they straight convey
The cold relief—the blood is stayed,
And Hodge again holds up his head.
Such are the fortunes of the game,
And those who play should stop the same
By wholesome laws, such as: all those
Who on the blinded man impose
Stand in his stead, as long a-gone
When men were first a nation grown;
Lawless they lived—till wantonness
And liberty began to increase,
And one man lay in another's way;
Then laws were made to keep fair play.
捉迷藏
当白雪缀满苏珊的衣裳，
珠玉垂挂在牧童的鼻孔上，
这时候呵，我就一心一意
让炉火烧红，火光映照四壁。
“添上煤呀，喂，再添高一点；
搁上橡木，让它发出火焰。”
洗得干净的板凳摆了一圈，
再坐上姑娘和小伙子少年：
多美的情景！啤酒喝得快意，
相思的故事，逗笑的打趣——
都说够了，再让游戏开始。
妞儿用别针扎了小伙子。
罗杰把窦莉的凳子抽走，
她扑通跌在地上，这蠢丫头！
她羞红了脸，却斜眼看着
傻瓜狄克，他正为此难过。
可是，现在大家要玩捉迷藏，
绊脚的东西赶紧挪到两旁。
珍妮折好她的丝手帕，
烂眼边的威尔运气最坏。
笑声立刻停了：“嘘，安静！”
噘嘴的培吉把赛姆一耸。
蒙着眼的威尔手张得太宽，
赛姆溜了过去：“呵，倒霉蛋，
蠢笨的威尔！”但嗤笑的凯蒂
却被挤到一角，逃不出去！
于是，威尔可以睁眼观看了，
他以为他神气得不得了：
“嘿，嘿，凯蒂呀！你这怎么行？
我说，罗杰离你是多么近！”
她捉住了他——罗杰拿手帕
也扎住头——但眼睛除外。
因为他还能透视过丝巾，
他扑向赛姆，但没抱得紧，
赛姆溜了。苏姬躲来躲去，
一下子绊了一跤，倒在就地。
“看！这是不守规矩的结果！
只要欺骗，必然要生灾祸。”
可是罗杰还是不断追赶，
“他看见啦！”格雷斯轻轻叫喊；
“喝，罗杰，你对玩法太不通，
你还得扎紧些，再作盲人！”
凯蒂冒失地把话重复一遍，
于是罗杰又连转了三圈。
以后他停了一停。而狄克
心头一转，出了个坏计策：
他以手脚在地上爬伏，
笔直地挡住盲人的去路，
然后“哼”了一声。——霍吉听了，
盲目跑去——满以为能捉到：
当然跌了跤。唉，由此可见，
我们的希望多脆弱，多快就完！
他的鲜血一滴滴落在地上，
大家立刻惊得一片慌张。
可怜的狄克捧着他的头，
恨不得自己治好他的伤口。
但凯蒂拿着钥匙匆匆跑开，
于是他们朝他的背浇下来
一桶冷水；血总算不再流，
霍吉又能直竖起他的头。
这就是这游戏的大致情形；
凡是游戏的，为了避免不幸，
应该订下好的规章，例如：
谁要使蒙眼的人受骗吃苦，
他也得身受。好似在古昔，
人们群居而没有法律，
这使得暴乱和自由开始
蔓延，以致一国人民彼此
妨害和欺凌，于是有了法律，
就为大家办事都公平合理。
Song 1st by a Shepherd
Welcome, stranger, to this place,
Where joy doth sit on every bough,
Paleness flies from every face;
We reap not what we do not sow.
Innocence doth like a rose
Bloom on every maiden's cheek;
Honour twines around her brows,
The jewel health adorns her neck.
牧人之歌
来吧，陌生人，请来到这里，
这儿，每条枝上都坐着欢乐，
苍白已从每张脸上飞去；
我们撒的种子我们在收获。
天真像是一朵玫瑰花
开放在每个姑娘的颊上；
贞洁在她的额前盘绕，
她的颈项戴着珠玉的健康。
Song by an Old Shepherd
When silver snow decks Sylvio's clothes,
And jewel hangs at shepherd's nose,
We can abide life's pelting storm
That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.
Whilst virtue is our walking-staff,
And truth a lantern to our path,
We can abide life's pelting storm
That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.
Blow, boisterous wind; stem winter, frown—
Innocence is a winter's gown;
So clad, we'll abide life's pelting storm
That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.
老牧人之歌
当银雪堆上西尔维欧的衣裳，
而珠玉挂在牧人的鼻子上，
我们能忍过生之风暴的摧残，
它虽使四肢颤栗，但只要心儿温暖。
当美德是我们行路的手杖，
真理是盏灯，把我们的路照亮，
我们能忍过生之风暴的摧残，
它虽使四肢颤栗，但只要心儿温暖。
吹吧，喧腾的风，尽严冬摆出凶相，
天真是冬季的袍子，只要穿上，
我们就能忍过生之风暴的摧残，
它虽使四肢颤栗，但只要心儿温暖。
The Everlasting Gospel (Excerpt)
I
What can this Gospel of Jesus be?
What life and immortality?
What was it that he brought to light
That Plato and Cicero did not write?
The heathen deities wrote them all,
These moral virtues, great and small.
What is the accusation of sin
But moral virtues' deadly gin?
The moral virtues in their pride
Did o'er the world triumphant ride
In wars and sacrifice for sin,
And souls to Hell ran trooping in.
The Accuser, Holy God of all
This pharisaic worldly ball,
Amidst them in his glory beams
Upon the rivers and the streams.
Then Jesus rose and said to me,
'Thy sins are all forgiven thee.'
Loud Pilate howled, loud Cai'phas yelled
When they the Gospel light beheld.
It was when Jesus said to me,
'Thy sins are all forgiven thee'
The Christian trumpets loud proclaim
Through all the world in Jesus' name
Mutual forgiveness of each vice
And oped the Gates of Paradise.
The Moral Virtues in great fear
Formed the cross and nails and spear,
And the Accuser standing by
Cried out, 'Crucify! Crucify!
Our moral virtues ne'er can be,
Nor warlike pomp and majesty,
For moral virtues all begin
In the accusations of sin,
And all the heroic virtues end
In destroying the sinners' friend.
Am I not Lucifer the Great,
And you, my daughters in great state,
The fruit of my mysterious tree
Of good and evil and misery
And death and Hell, which now begin
On everyone who forgives Sin?'
II
If moral virtue was Christianity
Christ's pretensions were all vanity,
And Caiaphas and Pilate men
Praiseworthy, and the lion's den,
And not the sheepfold, allegories
Of God and Heaven and their glories.
The moral Christian is the cause
Of the unbeliever and his laws.
The Roman virtues' warlike fame
Take Jesus' and Jehovah's name:
For what is Antichrist but those
Who against sinners Heaven close
With iron bars in virtuous state,
And Rhadamanthus at the gate?
......
IV
The vision of Christ that thou dost see
Is my vision's greatest enemy:
Thine has a great hook nose like thine,
Mine has a snub nose like to mine;
Thine is 'the Friend of All Mankind',
Mine speaks in parables to the blind;
Thine loves the same world that mine hates,
Thy Heaven-doors are my Hell-gates.
Socrates taught what Melitus
Loathed as a nation's bitterest curse,
And Caiaphas was, in his own mind,
A benefactor to mankind.
Both read the Bible day and night,
But thou read'st black where I read white.
V
Was Jesus humble, or did he
Give any proofs of humility,
Boast of high things with humble tone
And give with charity a stone?
When but a child he ran away
And left his parents in dismay.
When they had wandered three days long,
These were the words upon his tongue:
'No earthly parents I confess:
I am doing my Father's business.'
When the rich learned Pharisee
Came to consult him secretly,
Upon his heart with iron pen
He wrote: 'Ye must be born again.'
He was too proud to take a bribe;
He spoke with authority, not like a scribe.
He says with most consummate art,
'Follow me: I am meek and lowly of heart'—
As that is the only way to escape
The miser's net and the glutton's trap.
What can be done with such desperate fools
Who follow after the heathen schools?
I was standing by when Jesus died;
What I called 'humility' they called 'pride',
He who loves his enemies betrays his friends;
This surely is not what Jesus intends,
But the sneaking pride of heroic schools
And the scribes' and Pharisees' virtuous rules.
For he acts with honest triumphant pride;
And this is the cause that Jesus died.
He did not die with Christian ease;
Asking pardon of his enemies—
If he had Caiaphas would forgive;
Sneaking submission can always live—
He had only to say that God was the devil
And the devil was God, like a Christian civil,
Mild Christian regrets to the devil confess
For affronting him thrice in the wilderness:
He had soon been bloody Caesar's elf,
And at last he would have been Caesar himself—
Like Dr Priestley and Bacon and Newton.
Poor spiritual knowledge is not worth a button,
For thus the Gospel Sir Isaac confutes:
'God can only be known by his attributes,
And as for the indwelling of the Holy Ghost
Or of Christ and his Father—it's all a boast,
And pride and vanity of the imagination,
That disdains to follow this world's fashion.'
To teach doubt and experiment
Certainly was not what Christ meant.
What was he doing all that time
From twelve years old to manly prime?
Was he then idle, or the less
About his Father's business—
Or was his wisdom held in scorn
Before his wrath began to burn
In miracles throughout the land
That quite unnerved Caiaphas' hand?
If he had been Antichrist, creeping Jesus,
He'd have done any thing to please us;
Gone sneaking into synagogues,
And not used the elders and priests like dogs,
But humble as a lamb or ass
Obeyed himself to Caiaphas.
God wants not man to humble himself—
This is the trick of the ancient elf.
This is the race that Jesus ran:
Humble to God, haughty to man,
Cursing the rulers before the people
Even to the Temple's highest steeple;
And when he humbled himself to God,
Then descended the cruel rod:
'If thou humblest thyself thou humblest me;
Thou also dwell'st in Eternity.
Thou art a man; God is no more:
Thy own humanity learn to adore,
For that is my spirit of life.
Awake! arise to spiritual strife,
And thy revenge abroad display
In terrors at the Last Judgement day.
God's mercy and long-suffering
Is but the sinner to judgement to bring.
Thou on the cross for them shalt pray—
And take revenge at the Last Day!'
Jesus replied, and thunders hurled,
'I never will pray for the world:
Once I did so when I prayed in the garden;
I wished to take with me a bodily pardon.'
Can that which was of woman born
In the absence of the morn,
When the soul fell into sleep
And archangels round it weep,
Shooting out against the light
Fibres of a deadly night,
Reasoning upon its own dark fiction
In doubt, which is self-contradiction...?
Humility is only doubt,
And does the sun and moon blot out,
Rooting over with thorns and stems
The buried soul and all its gems
(This life's dim windows of the soul)—
Distorts the heavens from pole to pole,
And leads you to believe a lie
When you see with, not through, the eye,
That was born in a night, to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in the beams of light.
永远的福音 （选段）
I
耶稣的福音究竟是什么？
他的一生和不朽该怎样解说？
是什么被他宣示给世间，
而柏拉图和西赛罗未之前见？
这些大大小小处世的美德，
异教的神祗都早已说过。
为什么要把罪孽来责难？
这岂不是美德底阴毒手段？
当伦理的美德异常骄矜，
在全世界上胜利地行进，
并且为了罪孽、战争和血祭，
成群的灵魂就扑进地狱。
在这伪君子的红尘之域，
那责难者，他们众人的上帝，
在他们中间发出神圣的光辉，
照耀着他们的山川和溪水。
于是耶稣起来了，他对我说：
“上帝已宽恕了你的罪过。”
彼拉多、该亚法都嚎叫起来，
因为看到了福音的光彩，
那就是，当耶稣起来对我说：
“上帝已宽恕了你的罪过。”
基督教的喇叭以耶稣之名
在全世界上响彻了福音：
人人都该宽恕彼此的罪，
这福音打开了天国的门扉。
于是伦理的美德大为恐慌，
造出了十字架、铁钉和矛枪，
而责难者就守在这一旁，
喊道：“快快钉上！快快钉上！
不然，伦理的美德就要完蛋，
还有战争的辉煌和威严；
因为，岂不见伦理的美德
都源始于对罪孽的谴责，
而一切英雄的德性，最后
也必趋于消灭罪人的朋友？
谁不知道我是卢西弗大帝，
而你们，我的庄严的爱女，
都是我神秘之树的花果：
善和恶，死亡、地狱和灾祸，
这一切都要在人心上滋育，
只要谁敢把罪孽来宽宥？”
II
假如伦理的美德就是基督教，
那基督的教言都可以取消，
而该亚法和彼拉多，必然
都值得称颂；也不必用羊栏
来作比喻，最好以狮子的巢穴
象征上帝、天堂和他们的荣耀。
只因为伦理的基督徒出现，
于是有了异教徒及其法典。
罗马式的美德，战争的光荣，
都用了耶稣和耶和华的名称；
因为，怎样算是最反对基督？
岂不就是在美德的国土
用铁打的门闩关住天庭，
拉达曼沙守住，不准罪人走进？
……
IV
你所看到的耶稣的形象
恰恰敌视我看到的模样：
你的有个鹰钩鼻，像你自己，
我看到的像我，是狮子鼻；
你的耶稣和全人类友好，
我的呢，以比喻向盲人讲道；
你所爱的世界正是我的所恨，
你去天堂的路是我地狱的门。
苏格拉底所教导的，米利特
却曾痛斥为民族的灾祸；
而该亚法，就他自己来看，
他还给了全人类以恩典。
两者都日日夜夜地读圣经，
但我看是白的，你看是青。
V
耶稣很谦卑吗？他可曾
作出任何谦卑底证明？
可曾谦卑地提到崇高事物，
或者把石头仁慈地投出？
还在儿提时，他就逃开家，
这使他的父母大为惊诧。
在父母惊奇了三天以后，
是这句话被他说出了口：
“我不承认尘世的双亲，
我只要把天父的事执行。”
当多智的法利赛的富豪
偷偷地到他跟前去请教，
他就以铁笔对他的心胸
写道：“你必须再投胎才行。”
金钱买不动他，他自负很高，
不像学究，而是尊严地传道。
他的言语最能打动人心：
“跟着我吧，我的心卑贱而虔敬。”
唯有这条路能使人躲开
守财奴的罗网，鹰犬的陷害。
尽有那信服各种异端的傻瓜，
谁能对他们有什么办法？
耶稣死时，我曾守在身旁，
我说是谦卑，他们说是狂妄。
要是爱仇敌，必然就恨友人，
当然这不是耶稣的教训；
这是英雄学派的可鄙的骄矜，
学究和伪君子的一套德行；
耶稣行动起来，勇往而自信，
这就是他所以致死的原因。
他死时可不像一般基督徒，
从容地请求敌人的宽恕；
要是他请求，该亚法会办到，
卑鄙的服从总有生路一条。
他只须说，魔鬼就是上帝，
像有礼貌的基督徒所说的，
并且向魔鬼表示温和的忏悔，
不该在荒野三次把他得罪，
那他准成为煞神凯撒的儿子，
终于他也成为凯撒大帝。
就像普瑞斯特里、培根、牛顿，——
可悲的神灵知识不值一文！
因为牛顿曾如此否定福音：
“只能凭神的属性才知道神；
至于说圣灵，说基督和天父
寄寓于心中，那全是不符
现世成规的人在胡思乱想，
全是自负的夸口和虚妄。”
教人怀疑和信赖实验，
这绝不是基督的教言。
从十二岁起，直到成人，
他所作的都是什么事情？
他可是无所事事，或者
对天父的事业稍稍怠惰？
是否他的智慧受到轻蔑，
于是他的怒火开始燃烧，
他把奇迹传扬给世间，
使该亚法的手不禁抖颤？
耶稣若想讨好，背弃自己，
定会作出事情讨我们欢喜，——
定会溜进犹太人的会堂，
而不把法老看作狗一样；
定会像绵羊或者蠢驴一般，
一意听从该亚法的使唤。
上帝可并不要人低贱自己：
这都是古代妖魔的诡计。
对上帝谦卑，但对人须傲慢，
这才是耶稣所走的路线；
在人民之前，他诅咒统治者，
他的咒声高于神庙的高阁。
而等他刚刚对上帝谦卑，
残酷的鞭杖就向他问罪：
“你若低贱自己，就低贱了我；
你也是在永恒中生活。
你是一个人，上帝并不存在，
你须学会把你的人性崇拜，
因为这是我生活的精义。
醒来吧，投入精神的斗争里，
用末日裁判的恐怖景象
把你的复仇心向人世宣扬。
上帝的仁慈和长期苦难
只为了把罪人带去受裁判。
你须在十字架为他们祈祷，
在世界的末日把仇雪报。
这肉体的一生本是捏造，
矛盾的事物是它的材料。”
但耶稣发出了雷鸣答道：
“我将永不为这世界祈祷。
我作过一次，那是在花园里，
我求人们宽恕我这肉体。”
假如谁是由女人所生，
当早晨还没有降临，
当灵魂正在沉沉入睡，
天使长们都对着他落泪，——
这样的人怎能以深夜的
体质，对着光明投去，
怎能对其幽暗的“虚构”探索，
充满了自我矛盾的疑惑？
谦卑只不过是怀疑，
能把日和月都给抹去，
让根基长满了荆棘和莠草，
埋没了灵魂和它的珠宝。
灵魂把此生当作幽暗的窗，
这窗景大大歪曲了天堂，
它只能使你去相信谎话，
你只是用肉眼，而非透过它，
看到这生于夜、死于夜的一切，
因为你的灵魂还在微光中安歇。
Thou Hast a Lap Full of Seed
Thou hast a lap full of seed
And this is a fine country;
Why dost thou not cast thy seed
And live in it merrily?
Shall I cast it on the sand
And turn it into fruitful land?
For on no other ground
Can I sow my seed,
Without tearing up
Some stinking weed.
你的腰身怀满着种子
你的腰身怀满着种子，
而这是一片美好的乡土。
为何不撒下你的种子，
在这儿快乐地居住？
我可要把它撒在沙上，
把沙地变为肥沃之乡？
因为若是把我的种子
在任何其他地方种植，
那我就还必得拔掉
一些毒恶的野草。
Let the Brothels of Paris be Opened
'Let the brothels of Paris be opened,
With many an alluring dance,
To awake the physicians through the city,'
Said the beautiful Queen of France.
The King awoke on his couch of gold,
As soon as he heard these tidings told:
'Arise and come, both fife and drum,
And the [famine] shall eat both crust and crumb.'
The Queen of France just touched this globe,
And the pestilence darted from her robe;
But our good queen quite grows to the ground,
And a great many suckers grow all around.
Fayette beside King Louis stood:
He saw him sign his hand;
And soon he saw the famine rage
About the fruitful land.
Fayette beheld the Queen to smile,
And wink her lovely eye;
And soon he saw the pestilence
From street to street to fly.
Fayette beheld the King and Queen
In curses and iron bound;
But mute Fayette wept tear for tear,
And guarded them around.
Fayette, Fayette, thou'rt bought and sold,
For well I see thy tears;
Of pity are exchanged for those,
Of selfish slavish fears.
Who will exchange his own fireside
For the stone of another's door?
Who will exchange his wheaten loaf
For the links of a dungeon floor?
Oh, who would smile on the wintry seas,
And pity the stormy roar?
Or who will exchange his newborn child
For the dog at the wintry door?
让巴黎的妓院开放吧
“让巴黎的妓院开放吧，
让很多诱人的舞蹈
把瘟疫传到全城里去，”
美丽的法国皇后说道。
国王在他的金榻上醒来，
听见了这消息，就说道：
“来呀，让鼓乐手都来弹奏，
让饥荒吃光面包心和壳。”
法国的皇后刚落上地球，
瘟疫就从她的袍里冲出；
但我们的好皇后站得很牢，
一大群傻瓜把她围住。
法耶特站在路易王身边：
他看着他签了字；
而不久，他就看见饥荒
在肥沃的土地上放肆。
法耶特看着皇后微笑，
又眨着她可爱的眼睛；
而不久，他就看见瘟疫
在条条的大街上流行。
法耶特看着国王和王后
被眼泪和铁链缚住；
无言的法耶特陪他们落泪，
并且在周围把他们守护。
法耶特，法耶特，你被卖了，
你快乐的明天已被卖出；
你以你怜悯的眼泪，
换来了哀伤的泪珠。
谁肯把他火热的阵线
换取别人门前的阶梯？
谁肯把他小麦做的面包
去把地牢里的锁链换取？
哦，谁会笑对冬季的海洋，
并且怜悯风涛的狂吼？
谁肯以他新生的幼儿
去换取冬日门外的狗？
查 良 铮 译
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