托马斯·哈代诗15首
At a Lunar Eclipse
Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea,
Now steals along upon the Moon's meek shine
In even monochrome and curving line
Of imperturbable serenity.
How shall I link such sun-cast symmetry
With the torn troubled form I know as thine,
That profile, placid as a brow divine,
With continents of moil and misery?
And can immense Mortality but throw
So small a shade, and Heaven's high human scheme
Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc implies?
Is such the stellar gauge of earthly show,
Nation at war with nation, brains that teem,
Heroes, and women fairer than the skies?
观月食
A Broken Appointment
You did not come,
And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb. —
Yet less for loss of your dear presence there
Than that I thus found lacking in your make
That high compassion which can overbear
Reluctance for pure lovingkindness' sake
Grieved I, when, as the hope-hour stroked its sum,
You did not come.
You love not me,
And love alone can lend you loyalty;
— I know and knew it. But, unto the store
Of human deeds divine in all but name,
Was it not worth a little hour or more
To add yet this: Once you, a woman, came
To soothe a time-torn man; even though it be
You love not me?
爽约
A Spot
In years defaced and lost,
Two sat here, transport-tossed,
Lit by a living love
The wilted world knew nothing of:
Scared momently
By gaingivings,
Then hoping things
That could not be.
Of love and us no trace
Abides upon the place;
The sun and shadows wheel,
Season and season sereward steal;
Foul days and fair
Here, too, prevail,
And gust and gale
As everywhere.
But lonely shepherd souls
Who bask amid these knolls
May catch a faery sound
On sleepy noontides from the ground:
"O not again
Till Earth outwears
Shall love like theirs
Suffuse this glen!"
His Immortality
I
I saw a dead man's finer part
Shining within each faithful heart
Of those bereft. Then said I: "This must be
His immortality."
II
I looked there as the seasons wore,
And still his soul continuously bore
A life in theirs. But less its shine excelled
Than when I first beheld.
III
His fellow-yearsmen passed, and then
In later hearts I looked for him again;
And found him — shrunk, alas! into a thin
And spectral mannikin.
IV
Lastly I ask — now old and chill —
If aught of him remain unperished still;
And find, in me alone, a feeble spark,
Dying amid the dark.
February 1899
他的永生
1
我曾见一位死者的荣光
在亲故们忠诚的心中闪亮。
当时我说：“我看到了保证——
他将得到永生。”
2
我看见：经过岁月磨损，
他们心中继续活着他的灵魂；
可是他的光辉已渐渐黯淡——
比起我初见的那天。
3
当他的同年人都已死亡，
我再在晚辈的心中把他寻访，
呀！他已萎缩得难以认出——
一个幽灵般的侏儒。
4
如今我已年衰气冷，
我查问：他是否还有什么残存？
只在我心中有一颗火星摇曳——
在黑暗中渐渐熄灭。
The Last Chrysanthemum
Why should this flower delay so long
To show its tremulous plumes?
Now is the time of plaintive robin-song,
When flowers are in their tombs.
Through the slow summer, when the sun
Called to each frond and whorl
That all he could for flowers was being done,
Why did it not uncurl?
It must have felt that fervid call
Although it took no heed,
Waking but now, when leaves like corpses fall,
And saps all retrocede.
Too late its beauty, lonely thing,
The season's shine is spent,
Nothing remains for it but shivering
In tempests turbulent.
Had it a reason for delay,
Dreaming in witlessness
That for a bloom so delicately gay
Winter would stay its stress?
— I talk as if the thing were born
With sense to work its mind;
Yet it is but one mask of many worn
By the Great Face behind.
最后一朵菊花
为什么这朵花延误至今，
才展示颤抖的羽毛？
此刻百花都已寿终正寝，
红胸鸟哀哀啼叫。
太阳在那漫长的夏季里
曾招呼众叶群芳，
说他为促开花已尽了全力，
她为何还不绽放？
她一定听到这热情招呼
却并未引起重视，
此刻方醒，已是万木萧疏，
植物收干了液汁。
她孤独的美色姗姗来迟，
错过了季节爱抚，
剩下的唯有以战栗之躯
承受寒风的冷酷。
她来迟有何缘由可说？
莫非幻想过于天真，
以为对如此娇美的花朵
严冬也会手下留情？
——我似乎是在说物件
也有智力有情意；
而它只是那伟大的隐藏的脸
戴的无数面具之一。
The Darkling Thrush
I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.
The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.
At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.
So little cause for carollings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.
31 December 1900
黑暗中的鸫鸟
我倚在以树丛作篱的门边，
寒霜像幽灵般发灰，
冬的沉渣使那白日之眼
在苍白中更添憔悴。
纠缠的藤蔓在天上划线，
宛如断了的琴弦，
而出没附近的一切人类
都已退到家中火边。
陆地轮廓分明，望去恰似
斜卧着世纪的尸体，
阴沉的天穹是他的墓室，
风在为他哀悼哭泣。
自古以来萌芽生长的冲动
收缩得又干又硬，
大地上每个灵魂与我一同
似乎都已丧失热情。
突然间，头顶上有个声音
在细枝萧瑟间升起，
一曲黄昏之歌满腔热情
唱出了无限欣喜，——
这是一只鸫鸟，瘦弱、老衰，
羽毛被阵风吹乱，
却决心把它的心灵敞开，
倾泻向渐浓的黑暗。
远远近近，任你四处寻找，
在地面的万物上
值得欢唱的原因是那么少，
是什么使它欣喜若狂？
这使我觉得：它颤音的歌词，
它欢乐的晚安曲调
含有某种幸福希望——为它所知，
而不为我所知晓。
The Comet at Yell'ham
I
It bends far over Yell'ham Plain,
And we, from Yell'ham Height,
Stand and regard its fiery train,
So soon to swim from sight.
II
It will return long years hence, when
As now its strange swift shine
Will fall on Yell'ham; but not then
On face of mine or thine.
耶勒姆观彗星
1
它在平原上空远远地转身，
而我们站在耶勒姆高地遥望：
看它曳着火一般的长裙
很快就要游出视野隐进穹苍。
2
经漫长岁月，它将回归此处，
它迅捷的奇光像今天一样，
将临照耶勒姆，却不能再度
临照我的或你的面庞。
The Ruined Maid
"O 'Melia, my dear, this does everything crown!
Who could have supposed I should meet you in Town?
And whence such fair garments, such prosperi-ty?" —
"O didn't you know I'd been ruined?" said she.
— "You left us in tatters, without shoes or socks,
Tired of digging potatoes, and spudding up docks;
And now you've gay bracelets and bright feathers three!" —
"Yes: that's how we dress when we're ruined," said she.
— "At home in the barton you said 'thee' and 'thou',
And 'thik oon', and 'theäs oon', and 't'other'; but now
Your talking quite fits 'ee for high compa-ny!" —
"A polish is gained with one's ruin," said she.
— "Your hands were like paws then, your face blue and bleak,
But now I'm bewitched by your delicate cheek,
And your little gloves fit as on any la-dy!" —
"We never do work when we're ruined," said she.
— "You used to call home-life a hag-ridden dream,
And you'd sigh, and you'd sock; but at present you seem
To know not of megrims or melancho-ly!" —
"True. One's pretty lively when ruined," said she.
— "I wish I had feathers, a fine sweeping gown,
And a delicate face, and could strut about Town!" —
"My dear — a raw country girl, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. You ain't ruined," said she.
堕落的姑娘
“哟！密莉亚，亲爱的，这可真希奇！
谁料得到我会在城里碰见你？
而且哪来这么漂亮的衣裳，这么阔？”
“哦，你不知道我已经堕落？”她说。
“你厌倦了锄草，也不想再把土豆挖，
你一身破烂离了家，没鞋也没袜；
而如今你有华丽的羽毛和手镯！”
“是的，堕落的人这样打扮，”她说。
“在家乡，在农场，你说的是‘你’和‘咱’，
还有‘啥家伙’和‘咋个办’，可是今天，
你说出来的话在上等社会完全合格！”
“堕落能换得高雅的表面，”她说。
“那时你手像爪子，脸儿又瘦又青，
如今你戴着小手套，就像贵妇人，
你如花如玉的脸蛋简直迷住了我！”
“我们堕落后从来就不干活，”她说。
“你老是说，家乡的生活是一场恶梦，
你老是叹气叹个不停，可如今，
你看起来无忧无愁，似乎挺快活！”
“真的，堕落的人表现很活泼，”她说。
“我真想有羽毛、华丽的拖地长袍，
还有漂亮的脸蛋，能在城里炫耀！”
“一个新来的乡下姑娘，我亲爱的，
别指望这一切。你没有堕落，”她说。
Memory and I
"O Memory, where is now my Youth,
Who used to say that life was truth?"
"I saw him in a crumbled cot
Beneath a tottering tree;
That he as phantom lingers there
Is only known to me."
"O Memory, where is now my Joy,
Who lived with me in sweet employ?"
"I saw him on a lonely lawn,
Where laughter used to be;
That he as phantom wanders there
Is known to none but me."
"O Memory, where is now my Hope,
Who charged with deeds my skill and scope?"
"I saw her in a tomb of tomes,
Where dreams are wont to be;
That she as spectre haunteth there
Is only known to me."
"O Memory, where is now my Faith,
One time a champion, now a wraith?"
"I saw her in a ravaged aisle,
Bowed down on bended knee;
That her poor ghost outflickers there
Is known to none but me."
"O Memory, where is now my Love,
That rayed me as a god above?"
"I saw her in an ageing shape
Where beauty used to be;
That her fond phantom lingers there
Is only known to me."
记忆和我
“记忆
呀，我的
青春
在哪里？
他以前总说：生活就是真理。”
“我见他在摇摇欲倒的树下
呆在一间破棚里；
如今他像个幽灵在那里栖身，
除我之外无人知悉。”
“记忆呀，我的
欢乐
在哪里？
他以前总是给我带来甜蜜。”
“我见他徘徊在寂寞的草地，
那里欢笑已绝迹；
如今他像个幽灵在那里流连，
除我之外无人知悉。”
“记忆呀，我的
希望
在哪里？
他总是要我发挥才干和志气。”
“我看见她在书堆的坟场里，
那是梦境萦回之地；
如今她像个鬼魂在那里萦绕，
除我之外无人知悉。”
“记忆呀，我的
信仰
在哪里？
曾位居第一，而今破灭无遗。”
“我看见她在毁圮的教堂里，
低垂着头，屈着膝；
她可怜的鬼影在那儿摇曳明灭，
除我之外无人知悉。”
“记忆呀，我的
爱情
在哪里？
他曾像天神一样许我福祉。”
“我到美的旧址去把她寻访，
却只见苍老的影子，
她痴痴的幽灵在那儿流连不舍，
除我之外无人知悉。”
The End of the Episode
Indulge no more may we
In this sweet-bitter pastime:
The love-light shines the last time
Between you, Dear, and me.
There shall remain no trace
Of what so closely tied us,
And blank as ere love eyed us
Will be our meeting-place.
The flowers and thymy air,
Will they now miss our coming?
The dumbles thin their humming
To find we haunt not there?
Though fervent was our vow,
Though ruddily ran our pleasure,
Bliss has fulfilled its measure,
And sees its sentence now.
Ache deep; but make no moans:
Smile out; but stilly suffer:
The paths of love are rougher
Than thoroughfares of stones.
曲终
我们莫再迷恋
这又甜又苦的游戏，——
爱情之光最后一次
闪耀在你我之间。
我俩紧密的联系
将不留踪迹地消失，
我俩约会的地址
将恢复早先的孤寂。
百花和香草的薰风
是否会把我们思念？
野蜂不见我们流连，
是否会压低嗡鸣？
尽管我们盟誓热烈，
尽管欢乐如泉水涌出，
幸福达到了它的限度，
如今看到了最后判决。
深深地痛，但不呻吟，
出声地笑，无声地受苦，——
爱之路比那石头路
要更为崎岖难行。
The Night of the Dance
The cold moon hangs to the sky by its horn,
And centres its gaze on me;
The stars, like eyes in reverie,
Their westering as for a while forborne,
Quiz downward curiously.
Old Robert draws the backbrand in,
The green logs steam and spit;
The half-awakened sparrows flit
From the riddled thatch; and owls begin
To whoo from the gable-slit.
Yes; far and nigh things seem to know
Sweet scenes are impending here;
That all is prepared; that the hour is near
For welcomes, fellowships, and flow
Of sally, song, and cheer;
That spigots are pulled and viols strung;
That soon will arise the sound
Of measures trod to tunes renowned;
That She will return in Love's low tongue
My vows as we wheel around.
跳舞的夜
冷月如钩在天边高挂，
她对我特别注意；
星星眯着眼如在梦里，
暂时停下了西去的步伐，
对下界深表好奇。
老罗伯把烧半截的柴塞进，
生柴吱吱冒汽泡；
从破漏如筛的屋顶茅草
飞出半醒的麻雀，猫头鹰
也在墙洞鸣叫。
周围的一切好像都知道
甜蜜一幕将拉开；
万事齐备，时刻即将到来：
欢迎着伴侣打趣说笑，
唱着歌儿乐开怀；
酒桶已开塞，琴已调好弦，
马上就要奏起乐曲，
舞步就要踩着新的韵律；
回应我的盟誓，在旋舞间
她将报以爱的低语。
Misconception
I busied myself to find a sure
Snug hermitage
That should preserve my Love secure
From the world's rage;
Where no unseemly saturnals,
Or strident traffic-roars,
Or hum of intervolved cabals
Should echo at her doors.
I laboured that the diurnal spin
Of vanities
Should not contrive to suck her in
By dark degrees,
And cunningly operate to blur
Sweet teachings I had begun;
And then I went full-heart to her
To expound the glad deeds done.
She looked at me, and said thereto
With a pitying smile,
"And this is what has busied you
So long a while?
O poor exhausted one, I see
You have worn you old and thin
For naught! Those moils you fear for me
My nature revels in!"
误会
我忙忙碌碌，努力寻觅
舒适的隐居，
以保护我的爱人躲避
人世的乱局；
那里没有彻夜酗酒放荡，
没有烦人车马喧，
也没有帮派的倾轧吵嚷
回响在她门前。
我全力防范那浮华炫富
每日的熏陶
终于会逐步地把她吸入
黑暗的泥沼，
把我刚开始的爱的教育
狡诈地抹掉痕迹。
之后我挺得意地找她去
汇报我的成绩。
她瞧瞧我，怜悯地微笑，
然后对我说：
“这么长时间你的辛劳，
全是为
这个
？
哦可怜你累得又老又瘦，
枉费了一片情怀！——
你为我忧惧的浑潮浊流
恰恰是我本性的最爱！”
Let Me Enjoy
I
Let me enjoy the earth no less
Because the all-enacting Might
That fashioned forth its loveliness
Had other aims than my delight.
II
About my path there flits a Fair,
Who throws me not a word or sign;
I'll charm me with her ignoring air,
And laud the lips not meant for mine.
III
From manuscripts of moving song
Inspired by scenes and dreams unknown
I'll pour out raptures that belong
To others, as they were my own.
IV
And some day hence, towards Paradise
And all its blest — if such should be —
I will lift glad, afar-off eyes,
Though it contain no place for me.
让我享受尘世之乐
1
让我享受尘世之乐吧，
尽管那制定一切的伟力
创造出世间的美好甜蜜
不是以我的欢乐为目的。
2
我身旁掠过一位丽人，
她没有向我说话或示意；
我赞美不属于我的樱唇，
以她的冷漠陶醉自己。
3
我捧着动人的歌的抄本，
不知它来自何种灵感，
我借它倾注狂喜的心情——
别人的，就像自己的一般。
4
有朝一日，向着那天堂
及其居民（假设真有其事）
我会高兴地抬眼遥望，
尽管那里没我的位置。
The Ballad-Singer
Sing, Ballad-singer, raise a hearty tune;
Make me forget that there was ever a one
I walked with in the meek light of the moon
When the day's work was done.
Rhyme, Ballad-rhymer, start a country song;
Make me forget that she whom I loved well
Swore she would love me dearly, love me long,
Then — what I cannot tell!
Sing, Ballad-singer, from your little book;
Make me forget those heart-breaks, achings, fears;
Make me forget her name, her sweet sweet look —
Make me forget her tears.
Former Beauties
These market-dames, mid-aged, with lips thin-drawn,
And tissues sere,
Are they the ones we loved in years agone,
And courted here?
Are these the muslined pink young things to whom
We vowed and swore
In nooks on summer Sundays by the Froom,
Or Budmouth shore?
Do they remember those gay tunes we trod
Clasped on the green;
Aye; trod till moonlight set on the beaten sod
A satin sheen?
They must forget, forget! They cannot know
What once they were,
Or memory would transfigure them, and show
Them always fair.
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