豪斯曼《西罗普郡少年》
A Shropshire Lad 西罗普郡少年
I 1887
From Clee to heaven the beacon burns,
The shires have seen it plain,
From north and south the sign returns
And beacons burn again.
Look left, look right, the hills are bright,
The dales are light between,
Because 'tis fifty years to-night
That God has saved the Queen.
Now, when the flame they watch not towers
About the soil they trod,
Lads, we'll remember friends of ours
Who shared the work with God.
To skies that knit their heartstrings right,
To fields that bred them brave,
The saviours come not home to-night:
Themselves they could not save.
It dawns in Asia, tombstones show
And Shropshire names are read;
And the Nile spills his overflow
Beside the Severn's dead.
We pledge in peace by farm and town
The Queen they served in war,
And fire the beacons up and down
The land they perished for.
'God save the Queen' we living sing,
From height to height 'tis heard;
And with the rest your voices ring,
Lads of the Fifty-third.
Oh, God will save her, fear you not:
Be you the men you've been,
Get you the sons your fathers got,
烽火这就烧得更热闹。
向左看，向右瞧，群山如烛，
火光照彻了中间的山谷，
都只因五十年前的今夕
上帝保佑我女王登极。
今天他们步履的乡土
耸起了他们不见的火树，
孩子们，我们的心里要长有
那些与上帝分忧的朋友。
家乡天养他们胸中的正气，
家乡地养他们勇敢坚毅，
那些保驾人今夜不归来：
他们没法子拯救下自己。
东方天亮了，墓碑上显示
西罗普郡死者的姓氏；
尼罗河也将它新泛泼出，
傍着塞汶河 死者的英骨。
他们在战场效忠的女王
乡镇在太平时齐祝她健康，
更高高下下把烽火点燃
他们舍身来保卫的乡县。
“上帝保佑女王”我们生者唱，
从山头到山头歌声嘹亮。
而你们五十三团的少年
歌喉跟余下人也响成一片。
啊，上帝会保佑她，不用愁：
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
姑许我七十 可俟，
二十岁已不再至，
七十春除去二十，
我仅有五十能得。
若依人赏花情致，
五十春殊不够事，
我其去林中走走，
看樱树垂垂雪厚。
III THE RECRUIT
Leave your home behind, lad,
And reach your friends your hand,
And go, and luck go with you
While Ludlow tower shall stand.
Oh, come you home of Sunday
When Ludlow streets are still
And Ludlow bells are calling
To farm and lane and mill,
Or come you home of Monday
When Ludlow market hums
And Ludlow chimes are playing
'The conquering hero comes',
Come you home a hero,
Or come not home at all,
The lads you leave will mind you
Till Ludlow tower shall fall.
And you will list the bugle
That blows in lands of morn,
And make the foes of England
Be sorry you were born.
And you till trump of doomsday
On lands of morn may lie,
And make the hearts of comrades
Be heavy where you die.
Leave your home behind you,
Your friends by field and town:
Oh, town and field will mind you
Till Ludlow tower is down.
三 新兵
孩子，家丢在后面，
把手挽起你友人，
去吧，运气随你去，
只要禄如塔 长存。
回家时赶个星期日，
禄如镇街道正寂寂，
禄如镇钟声正召唤，
向农场，磨坊，和巷陌。
回家时赶个星期一，
禄如镇市集正热闹，
禄如镇圣乐在飘奏：
“得胜的英雄来到。”
回家来做一个英雄，
不然就永不回家，
你丢下的孩子们会想念你，
想你到禄如塔塌下。
你将注听着笳声
在晨曦之国土上吹起，
要使英格兰的敌人
都抱怨天不该生你。
你将俟末日的号角
在晨曦之国土上躺着；
你将使同伴的心肠
经过时为你而怆楚。
丢在你后面，你的家，
你乡下和镇上的朋友；
镇上和乡下啊会想念你，
想你到禄如塔没有。
IV REVEILLE
Wake: the silver dusk returning
Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunrise burning
Strands upon the eastern rims.
Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters,
Trampled to the floor it spanned,
And the tent of night in tatters
Straws the sky-pavilioned land.
Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying:
Hear the drums of morning play;
Hark, the empty highways crying
'Who'll beyond the hills away?'
Towns and countries woo together,
Forelands beacon, belfries call;
Never lad that trod on leather
Lived to feast his heart with all.
Up, lad: thews that lie and cumber
Sunlit pallets never thrive;
Morns abed and daylight slumber
Were not meant for man alive.
Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, lad: when the journey's over
There'll be time enough to sleep.
四 起身号
醒醒：银灰的暝色回来了，
漫上茫茫黑暗的海边；
朝日的船舶通红地烧着，
远远搁浅在东方边缘。
醒醒：穹窿的楼顶踏破了，
废基上堆起碎影重重；
夜天的营幕裂成片片，
倒在大地上散乱纵横。
起来，孩子，再不能睡了：
你听清晨的鼓声在奏；
听呀，空荡的大道叫唤着
“赶往山外的有哪一个？”
乡间和镇上一齐在敦促，
前方起烽火，钟楼正召集；
从来脚穿皮靴的男儿
在世上没有能享受一切。
起来，孩子，肌肉尽盘据
阳光的稿荐，决不会荣茂；
早晨赖床，白天里酣睡，
不是活的人份内所应做。
泥土不动，但血液是游子；
呼吸是用不了多久的炉灶。
起来，孩子，待旅程完毕时
你尽有时间睡你的觉。
V
Oh see how thick the goldcup flowers
Are lying in field and lane,
With dandelions to tell the hours
That never are told again.
Oh may I squire you round the meads
And pick you posies gay?
—'Twill do no harm to take my arm.
'You may, young man, you may.'
Ah, spring was sent for lass and lad,
'Tis now the blood runs gold,
And man and maid had best be glad
Before the world is old.
What flowers to-day may flower to-morrow,
But never as good as new.
—Suppose I wound my arm right round—
''Tis true, young man, 'tis true.'
Some lads there are, 'tis shame to say,
That only court to thieve,
And once they bear the bloom away
'Tis little enough they leave.
Then keep your heart for men like me
And safe from trustless chaps.
My love is true and all for you.
'Perhaps, young man, perhaps.'
Oh, look in my eyes then, can you doubt?
—Why, 'tis a mile from town.
How green the grass is all about!
We might as well sit down.
—Ah, life, what is it but a flower?
Why must true lovers sigh?
Be kind, have pity, my own, my pretty,—
'Good-bye, young man, good-bye.'
五
你看处处篱径和田塍
毛茛花开得多密，
中有蒲公英点缀良辰，
并告人良辰易逸。
我陪你草场那边转转，
给你扎几束野色。
——挽着我手臂走吧，不碍事。
“使得，小伙子，使得。”
啊，春天原属于少年男女，
生命现在是金流，
人们最好及时找乐趣，
莫等到世界白头。
今天的花明天也许开，
不过总不及新的。
——我这样把手兜过来好否——
“真的，小伙子，真的。”
有些男子，说起来顶丑，
殷勤只为了揩油，
他们一朝把鲜花载走，
什么情分也不留。
所以择人要择我这样，
靠不住的鬼别取。
我的心最真，只爱你一人。
“也许，小伙子，也许。”
你不信时看看我眼睛。
——怎么，离城已一里！
这儿一带草色多青青！
何不就地上坐起。
——唉，人生是什么？一朵花，
多情人何必叹气。
可怜，慈悲些，心肝，美人儿——
“再会，小伙子，再会。”
VI
When the lad for longing sighs,
Mute and dull of cheer and pale,
If at death's own door he lies,
Maiden, you can heal his ail.
Lovers' ills are all to buy:
The wan look, the hollow tone,
The hung head, the sunken eye,
You can have them for your own.
Buy them, buy them: eve and morn
Lovers' ills are all to sell.
Then you can lie down forlorn;
But the lover will be well.
六
每当小伙子为心事嗟叹，
没精打采，苍白而寡言，
姑娘，你能够治愈他病患，
纵使他倒在死神的门前。
爱人的不幸全找你买，
他深陷的眼睛和低垂的头，
抑郁的声调，憔悴的容彩，
这些你都可据为己有。
买他的，买他的，日日与夜夜
爱人的不幸全要找你卖，
那时你躺下没有人理会，
但你那爱人将霍然病瘥。
VII
When smoke stood up from Ludlow,
And mist blew off from Teme,
And blithe afield to ploughing
Against the morning beam
I strode beside my team,
The blackbird in the coppice
Looked out to see me stride,
And hearkened as I whistled
The trampling team beside,
And fluted and replied:
'Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;
What use to rise and rise?
Rise man a thousand mornings
Yet down at last he lies,
And then the man is wise.'
I heard the tune he sang me,
And spied his yellow bill;
I picked a stone and aimed it
And threw it with a will:
Then the bird was still.
Then my soul within me
Took up the blackbird's strain,
And still beside the horses
Along the dewy lane
It sang the song again:
'Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;
The sun moves always west;
The road one treads to labour
Will lead one home to rest,
And that will be the best.'
七
禄如镇晨烟升起，
姆河夜霭吹扬，
我欣欣下田去耕种，
迎着前面的朝阳，
走在我牲畜一旁。
矮树丛中一山鸟
伸出头望了我一下，
它听见我吹着口哨，
赶着身旁的耕马，
就鼓起歌儿回答：
“躺下吧，躺下吧，种田人，
何事起来又起来？
人起来千百个早晨，
终久是倒在尘埃，
那时才彻悟过来。”
我听见它唱给我的歌，
举目瞥见它黄嘴，
我拾起颗石子对准它
狠狠地一下掷去，
它于是再不言语。
于是乎接着那鸟儿
唱起我体内的灵魂，
它静静随着我耕马，
沿着露水的田塍，
发出同样的歌声：
“躺下吧，躺下吧，种田人，
红日是永远西颓，
人辛苦走的一条路
将引人回家去安睡，
那是顶好的好事。”
VIII
'Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
Farewell to Severn shore.
Terence, look your last at me,
For I come home no more.
'The sun burns on the half-mown hill,
By now the blood is dried;
And Maurice amongst the hay lies still
And my knife is in his side.
'My mother thinks us long away;
'Tis time the field were mown.
She had two sons at rising day,
To-night she'll be alone.
'And here's a bloody hand to shake,
And oh, man, here's good-bye;
We'll sweat no more on scythe and rake,
My bloody hands and I.
'I wish you strength to bring you pride,
And a love to keep you clean,
And I wish you luck, come Lammastide,
At racing on the green.
'Long for me the rick will wait,
And long will wait the fold,
And long will stand the empty plate,
And dinner will be cold.'
八
“再会了，仓廒，禾堆，和丛树，
再会了，塞汶河涯。
泰伦司 ，来看我最后一眼，
因为我再不还家。
“落日照上半刈的山野，
现在是鲜血已干；
莫理司静静躺在稻草里，
我的刀插在他腰间。
“我母亲当作我们早走了，
算来田亩已割过。
她早晨起来有两个儿子。
今晚将剩她一个。
“这一只血手你来握一下，
唉，汉子，这下是分手；
我们将不再挥汗把镰锄，
我和我这双血手。
“我愿你有骨气使得你自负，
有爱侣，不沾花惹草，
我愿你秋天拉磨节 到来
赛马场上运气好。
“禾堆将把我久久等待，
等待久久的是羊栏，
桌上的空盘将久久搁着，
冷掉的将是晚餐。”
IX
On moonlit heath and lonesome bank
The sheep beside me graze;
And yon the gallows used to clank
Fast by the four cross ways.
A careless shepherd once would keep
The flocks by moonlight there,
And high amongst the glimmering sheep
The dead man stood on air.
They hang us now in Shrewsbury jail:
The whistles blow forlorn,
And trains all night groan on the rail
To men that die at morn.
There sleeps in Shrewsbury jail to-night,
Or wakes, as may betide,
A better lad, if things went right,
Than most that sleep outside.
And naked to the hangman's noose
The morning clocks will ring
A neck God made for other use
Than strangling in a string.
And sharp the link of life will snap,
And dead on air will stand
Heels that held up as straight a chap
As treads upon the land.
So here I'll watch the night and wait
To see the morning shine,
When he will hear the stroke of eight
And not the stroke of nine;
And wish my friend as sound a sleep
As lads' I did not know,
That shepherded the moonlit sheep
A hundred years ago.
九
明月照荒野和清冷的河岸，
羊群傍着我啮草；
往日在十字路口那边
绞架常铛锒锒吵。
从前常有个无忧虑的牧童
在那边月下牧羊 ，
羊群掩映，半空的死人
高立在羊群之上。
现在绞人在西鲁堡 监狱里，
那一早要死的人
彻夜听火车在铁轨上呻唤，
和汽笛绝望的悲鸣。
今晚上睡在西鲁堡狱内，
——或者在睁着眼睛——
有个孩子，假如运气好，
要比多数人都行。
待晨钟催动，绞手的圈结
就要套上他脖子，
叹上帝创造它原有别用，
并不是给绳子勒死。
生命的锁链这一下就啮断，
而脚跟将僵立空际，
而它走在地上时所支载的
也是个正直的汉子。
因此，我要在这儿守过夜，
等着见透出黎明，
那时候他将听钟敲八下 ，
可不及钟报九声；
再祝我朋友沉沉睡去，
就像在百年以前
那个与我从不相识的
月光下牧羊的少年。
X MARCH
The Sun at noon to higher air,
Unharnessing the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.
So braver notes the storm-cock sings
To start the rusted wheel of things,
And brutes in field and brutes in pen
Leap that the world goes round again.
The boys are up the woods with day
To fetch the daffodils away,
And home at noonday from the hills
They bring no dearth of daffodils.
Afield for palms the girls repair,
And sure enough the palms are there,
And each will find by hedge or pond
Her waving silver-tufted wand.
In farm and field through all the shire
The eye beholds the heart's desire;
Ah, let not only mine be vain,
For lovers should be loved again.
十 三月
太阳新近解下双白骢，
那在它车前游泳的银龙，
跨上羚羊金澄的羊毛，
中午时向天空升得更高。
画眉鸟唱出更美的歌声，
来推动万物生锈的机轮，
田中的兽跳，栏中的兽蹦，
跳蹦使世界重新又转动。
男孩子一早就赶进林薮，
去把林中的黄水仙载走，
到了午饭时从山中返家，
他们采回来大捧水仙花。
女孩子郊外去寻找锦标 ，
郊外的锦标果然有不少，
每人都会在篱边池旁
找到她摇荡的银球仙杖。
走遍全郡的陇间陌头，
眼前所见是衷心所求；
啊，可莫让我的心儿白费，
因为有情人应重新获爱。
XI
On your midnight pallet lying,
Listen, and undo the door:
Lads that waste the light in sighing
In the dark should sigh no more;
Night should ease a lover's sorrow;
Therefore, since I go to-morrow,
Pity me before.
In the land to which I travel,
The far dwelling, let me say—
Once, if here the couch is gravel,
In a kinder bed I lay,
And the breast the darnel smothers
Rested once upon another's
When it was not clay.
十一
你，在你子夜的草荐上躺起，
听我一言，把门打开：
年轻人把白天耗在叹息里，
黑暗里面该不再叹嗟；
夜应当减轻情人的烦忧，
所以既然我明朝去休，
现在可怜我一些。
在我此去行旅的乡土，
毋妨说，那遥远的居宅——
如果这里是沙砾的床铺，
更好的床我从前也睡来，
而且这蓬蒿堵塞的胸口
和另一个人的也曾经偎搂，
当它还未委尘埃。
XII
When I watch the living meet,
And the moving pageant file
Warm and breathing through the street
Where I lodge a little while,
If the heats of hate and lust
In the house of flesh are strong,
Let me mind the house of dust
Where my sojourn shall be long.
In the nation that is not
Nothing stands that stood before;
There revenges are forgot,
And the hater hates no more;
Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride.
十二
当我看见生的人聚集，
或者在街上作须臾逗留，
看见一队队走动的行列
热热嘘嘘地穿过街头，
我就想：仇恨与情欲的毒热
在肉的行舍里若这样猖獗，
让我记取那泥土的住宅，
那里我将有长期的安歇。
在那什么没有的国度里，
一切存在的都不复存在；
那里冤仇全被人忘记，
怨恨者胸中也更无蒂芥；
爱人们躺着一对一对，
也不问是谁睡在身旁，
做新郎官的酣眠竟夜，
永不翻身向他的新娘。
XIII
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
'Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
'The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.
十三
那时我二十一岁，
有个聪明人对我说道：
“送人钱，金镑，和几尼，
但莫把你心儿送掉；
送人以明珠和红玉，
但善保你情意的自由。”
但我才二十一岁，
同我可没有说头。
那时我二十一岁，
我还听见他谈论：
“人的一颗心从不会
白白掏出来奉赠，
要换你许多的叹息，
再买你无穷的戚戚。”
如今我二十二岁，
唉，这话是的确，的确。
XIV
There pass the careless people
That call their souls their own:
Here by the road I loiter,
How idle and alone.
Ah, past the plunge of plummet,
In seas I cannot sound,
My heart and soul and senses,
World without end, are drowned.
His folly has not fellow
Beneath the blue of day
That gives to man or woman
His heart and soul away.
There flowers no balm to sain him
From east of earth to west
That's lost for everlasting
The heart out of his breast.
Here by the labouring highway
With empty hands I stroll:
Sea-deep, till doomsday morning,
Lie lost my heart and soul.
十四
那些人快乐地走过，
自命其灵魂为己有：
我这里落寞而无聊，
独自在大道旁行走。
啊，远在铅锤不到处
人莫能测的海底，
我的心，灵魂，与神智，
永世里再不能升起。
人把他的心和灵魂
去送给男人或女人，
在白日和青空下面
其愚蠢诚没有比伦。
从地球东头到西头，
他的病没药草能愈，
如果从他的胸臆间
永远把心儿失去。
这里在劳碌的大道旁
我两手空空地游荡：
海样深，失落掉心和魂，
要捱到末日的天亮。
XV
Look not in my eyes, for fear
They mirror true the sight I see,
And there you find your face too clear
And love it and be lost like me.
One the long nights through must lie
Spent in star-defeated sighs,
But why should you as well as I
Perish? gaze not in my eyes.
A Grecian lad, as I hear tell,
One that many loved in vain,
Looked into a forest well
And never looked away again.
There, when the turf in springtime flowers,
With downward eye and gazes sad,
Stands amid the glancing showers
A jonquil, not a Grecian lad.
十五
莫盯着我的眼睛瞧，也许
它真个照出我看到的事，
而你瞧见你脸儿太清楚，
爱上了，也如我一样失志。
那要人躺过多少长夜，
自叹命蹇而骨立形销；
但是为什么定要你与我
同尽？莫盯着我的眼睛瞧。
我听说，有个希腊的少年
对多人的爱都不曾置意，
去窥视林中的一泓清泉，
从此就没有再掉首他视。
当春时林中的草泥发花，
眼儿向下，在忧郁地凝眸，
溜雨中孤立一株水仙葩，
希腊的少年已无处寻求。
XVI
It nods and curtseys and recovers
When the wind blows above,
The nettle on the graves of lovers
That hanged themselves for love.
The nettle nods, the wind blows over,
The man, he does not move,
The lover of the grave, the lover
That hanged himself for love.
十六
荨麻点头，欠身，又立起，
当风从上面吹过，
那情人冢上的荨麻，那埋着
自己缢死者的情冢。
风吹过，荨麻点一下头，
那汉子一点儿不动，
那对冢墓有情的、为爱情
而缢死自己的情人。
XVII
Twice a week the winter thorough
Here stood I to keep the goal:
Football then was fighting sorrow
For the young man's soul.
Now in Maytime to the wicket
Out I march with bat and pad:
See the son of grief at cricket
Trying to be glad.
Try I will; no harm in trying:
Wonder 'tis how little mirth
Keeps the bones of man from lying
On the bed of earth.
十七
一礼拜两次整个的冬季，
我都站在这儿守门，
足球曾替人抵御过愁思，
替我这年轻人的灵魂。
现在五月天我又赶出来，
垫子一个，球棒一柄，
看哪，愁人儿又打板球来，
三柱门前装着高兴。
装装就装装，装装没害处，
不懂有多大乐趣，
这样拿人的骨头硬竖着
不躺进泥土里去。
XVIII
Oh, when I was in love with you,
Then I was clean and brave,
And miles around the wonder grew
How well did I behave.
And now the fancy passes by,
And nothing will remain,
And miles around they'll say that I
Am quite myself again.
十八
那时候我的心头有你在，
我又勇敢，又不胡搞，
远近一带子越来越奇怪
我变得多么肯学好。
如今呢，那片痴心全抛却，
什么劲我也没有了，
远近一带子他们会说我
可不和我原来一样了。
XIX TO AN ATHLETE DYING YOUNG
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.
十九 给一个夭逝的运动家
你替镇上跑赢的那一次
我们抬起你穿过闹市，
大人和小孩站一旁叫好，
回家时我们举你有肩高。
今天跑手们群集于路歧，
归去也，我们抬你与肩齐，
抬你抬到你家门口放稳，
你家在一个更清静的乡镇。
机伶的孩子，正是在时候
从荣华不久留的田野溜走，
这里月桂树虽说长得早，
它比玫瑰花更快地枯槁。
眼睛为昏暗的长夜所蒙
将看不见自己的记录断送，
阒寂也未必比欢呼难受
在泥土堵塞了两耳之后。
现在你不会加进那一群
磨穿了已往光荣的年轻人，
被声望抛落在后面的跑手，
姓氏先死去了，人还没有。
所以趁足音未消逝以前，
快腿先踏上幽冥的深槛，
并且高擎在低矮的门楣
那仍旧被你保持的优胜杯。
环绕你早加上月桂的头颅，
无力的亡魂将群来瞻睹，
那留在卷发上不谢的花冠
生命比小女儿编的还短。
XX
Oh fair enough are sky and plain,
But I know fairer far:
Those are as beautiful again
That in the water are;
The pools and rivers wash so clean
The trees and clouds and air,
The like on earth was never seen,
And oh that I were there.
These are the thoughts I often think
As I stand gazing down
In act upon the cressy brink
To strip and dive and drown;
But in the golden-sanded brooks
And azure meres I spy
A silly lad that longs and looks
And wishes he were I.
二十
啊，天空和原野虽说够美的，
我知道有更美的在：
那些是浸在春水里的
加倍美丽的世界。
那些树木，白云，和浮空，
被河沼洗得多洁净，
在陆地上面从不见攸同，
在我看真是仙境。
每当我伫立在水边往下望，
我常打这样的主意，
那就是剥掉身上的衣裳，
踊身跳下去淹逝。
但同时我窥见蔚蓝的湖底
和金沙澄澄的溪河，
有个蠢孩子正殷切注视，
也愿意他能够是我。
XXI BREDON HILL
In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
A happy noise to hear.
Here of a Sunday morning
My love and I would lie,
And see the coloured counties,
And hear the larks so high
About us in the sky.
The bells would ring to call her
In valleys miles away:
'Come all to church, good people;
Good people, come and pray.'
But here my love would stay.
And I would turn and answer
Among the springing thyme,
'Oh, peal upon our wedding,
And we will hear the chime,
And come to church in time.'
But when the snows at Christmas
On Bredon top were strown,
My love rose up so early
And stole out unbeknown
And went to church alone.
They tolled the one bell only,
Groom there was none to see,
The mourners followed after,
And so to church went she,
And would not wait for me.
The bells they sound on Bredon,
And still the steeples hum.
'Come all to church, good people,'—
Oh, noisy bells, be dumb;
I hear you, I will come.
二十一 百里顿山
百里顿 山头跨两郡，
夏日里钟声送清听，
山下面两边响一片，
从远处钟楼到近，
那声音真够人高兴。
我的爱和我星期天
常一早来这里闲躺，
眺望那染色的 郡县，
听周围云雀儿歌唱，
高高的在我们头上。
好钟儿会向她一直敲，
敲从那遥远的山外，
“大家善男女来祈祷，
善男女大家来礼拜。”
她才肯去呢，我的爱！
于是我转身来答话，
高卧着芊芊的芳草，
“等我们好日子再敲吧，
替我们敲一个热闹，
那时候礼拜堂准到。”
可待到圣诞节雪花儿
在百里顿山头堆絮，
我的爱一早就起来，
偷偷的不同人言语，
一个子到礼拜堂去。
他们把钟儿敲一面，
新郎官!新郎官不在；
送丧的送到礼拜堂，
她就此进去，我的爱；
也不肯等候我一块。
百里顿山头钟又动，
远近的钟楼仍闹，
“大家善男女来祈祷，”——
吵死人的钟儿，死掉，
我听见你了，我就到。
XXII
The street sounds to the soldiers' tread,
And out we troop to see:
A single redcoat turns his head,
He turns and looks at me.
My man, from sky to sky's so far,
We never crossed before;
Such leagues apart the world's ends are,
We're like to meet no more;
What thoughts at heart have you and I
We cannot stop to tell;
But dead or living, drunk or dry,
Soldier, I wish you well.
二十二
街上响起整齐的步伐，
我们都拥出道旁，
一个红袍兵 掉转头来，
掉转头把我望望。
汉子，我们从没有碰过，
天同天是那样远；
地同地又隔这么多路，
我们不像能再会面；
你我心头想的些什么，
哪里能立下 说了；
不过不管你醒醉死活，
当兵的，我望你好。
XXIII
The lads in their hundreds to Ludlow come in for the fair,
There's men from the barn and the forge and the mill and the fold,
The lads for the girls and the lads for the liquor are there,
And there with the rest are the lads that will never be old.
There's chaps from the town and the field and the till and the cart,
And many to count are the stalwart, and many the brave,
And many the handsome of face and the handsome of heart,
And few that will carry their looks or their truth to the grave.
I wish one could know them, I wish there were tokens to tell
The fortunate fellows that now you can never discern;
And then one could talk with them friendly and wish them farewell
And watch them depart on the way that they will not return.
But now you may stare as you like and there's nothing to scan;
And brushing your elbow unguessed-at and not to be told
They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man,
The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.
二十三
成百的少年齐涌来禄如镇赶花会 ，
或来自磨坊，或铁铺，或马厩，或羊圈。
有的是来寻女孩子，有的是来觅醉，
余下的还有那永不会老大的少年。
镇上的，田间的，管账的，赶车的，都有，
多少个身强力壮，多少个称勇士，
多少个脸儿标，多少个心肠忠厚，
可少有能保持其容颜或品德到死。
我愿意能认识他们，我愿意能够说
哪些是幸运儿，而现在你没法察看；
我会去找他们攀谈，珍重地再道别，
送他们上行路，看他们一去不回返。
但眼前你可只管瞧，怎样也看不出
哪些是荣华时夭折的幸运少年人；
他们会和你擦肩过，但是你没法说
谁将把崭新的人币 送还给铸钱神。
XXIV
Say, lad, have you things to do?
Quick then, while your day's at prime.
Quick, and if 'tis work for two,
Here am I, man: now's your time.
Send me now, and I shall go;
Call me, I shall hear you call;
Use me ere they lay me low
Where a man's no use at all;
Ere the wholesome flesh decay,
And the willing nerve be numb,
And the lips lack breath to say,
'No, my lad, I cannot come.'
二十四
我说，孩子，你可有事要做？
有，就快些，趁你还健在。
若是两人做的事，还有我，
快些，汉子，这是个机会。
此刻你派我，我此刻能去；
唤我，用我，我将你听从；
莫等到我被深深埋入土，
那时候人将一点不中用；
莫等到脑中的神智麻痹，
健康的血肉之躯坏掉，
能言的双唇没有一丝气
说“不，孩子，我莫能来了。”
XXV
This time of year a twelvemonth past,
When Fred and I would meet,
We needs must jangle, till at last
We fought and I was beat.
So then the summer fields about,
Till rainy days began,
Rose Harland on her Sundays out
Walked with the better man.
The better man she walks with still,
Though now 'tis not with Fred:
A lad that lives and has his will
Is worth a dozen dead.
Fred keeps the house all kinds of weather,
And clay's the house he keeps;
When Rose and I walk out together
Stock-still lies Fred and sleeps.
二十五
十二个月前我撞见佛莱德，
也正是在这季节，
我们总要吵，一直到最后
打一架，我被他吃瘪。
从此在夏日的田野一带，
直至雨季开始，
露丝哈兰逢礼拜天出外，
总跟那神气的小子。
神气的小子她身边还是，
虽则已非佛莱德；
一个人活着，能随意欲为，
比十个死者还值。
佛莱德无冬无夏在家居，
他家住的是土宅；
露丝哈兰和我出门散步去，
直挺挺睡着佛莱德。
XXVI
Along the field as we came by
A year ago, my love and I,
The aspen over stile and stone
Was talking to itself alone.
'Oh who are these that kiss and pass?
A country lover and his lass;
Two lovers looking to be wed;
And time shall put them both to bed,
But she shall lie with earth above,
And he beside another love.'
And sure enough beneath the tree
There walks another love with me,
And overhead the aspen heaves
Its rainy-sounding silver leaves;
And I spell nothing in their stir,
But now perhaps they speak to her,
And plain for her to understand
They talk about a time at hand
When I shall sleep with clover clad,
And she beside another lad.
二十六
在一年以前我的爱和我，
当我们正沿着田野走过，
矮墙边我听见一棵白杨树
孤独地一个在高处自语：
“啊，且吻且走的那是谁家郎？
一个乡下人和他的姑娘；
两口子看上去好日子快到；
时间就安排请他们睡觉，
可是她将以黄土作床，
他睡在另一个情侣的身旁。”
现在果然是在这棵树底
陪着我走着另一个女子，
头上的白杨银白的树叶
传出萧萧如雨声的太息；
他感慨些什么我可听不真，
也许现在是告诉她一人，
只她能听出是明白的预言，
说有一个日子就在眼前，
那时候我将是墓草作被，
她陪另一个男子同睡。
XXVII
'Is my team ploughing,
That I was used to drive
And hear the harness jingle
When I was man alive?'
Ay, the horses trample,
The harness jingles now;
No change though you lie under
The land you used to plough.
'Is football playing
Along the river shore,
With lads to chase the leather,
Now I stand up no more?'
Ay, the ball is flying,
The lads play heart and soul;
The goal stands up, the keeper
Stands up to keep the goal.
'Is my girl happy,
That I thought hard to leave,
And has she tired of weeping
As she lies down at eve?'
Ay, she lies down lightly,
She lies not down to weep:
Your girl is well contented.
Be still, my lad, and sleep.
'Is my friend hearty,
Now I am thin and pine,
And has he found to sleep in
A better bed than mine?'
Yes, lad, I lie easy,
I lie as lads would choose;
I cheer a dead man's sweetheart,
Never ask me whose.
二十七
“我的马匹耕田吗？
那我常赶着的牲畜，
我爱赶起听辔具作响，
当我还是人活跃。”
哎，你的马踏着，
你的辔具丁当响，
你耕的地丝毫没有变，
虽则你往地下一躺。
“孩子们玩足球吗？
沿河边一如平日
皮球被人赶去又赶来，
我啊再不能挺出 。”
哎，皮球踢上天，
孩子们玩得真起劲，
球门挺着，守球门的人
挺出身来把门护定。
“我的女伴快乐吗？
我和她真难割舍，
她是不是已经哭倦了
当她到晚来安睡？”
哎，她轻松睡下了，
她睡下没打算哭，
你的女伴她很趁心呢，
别响了，孩子，睡觉。
“我的朋友他好吗？
我啊是又瘦又憔悴。
他有没有找到地方歇，
比我这一席地好睡？”
孩子，我躺得很适意，
我干的事儿人人会，
我逗一个死鬼的情人，
你莫问她是谁。
XXVIII THE WELSH MARCHES
High the vanes of Shrewsbury gleam
Islanded in Severn stream;
The bridges from the steepled crest
Cross the water east and west.
The flag of morn in conqueror's state
Enters at the English gate:
The vanquished eve, as night prevails,
Bleeds upon the road to Wales.
Ages since the vanquished bled
Round my mother's marriage-bed;
There the ravens feasted far
About the open house of war:
When Severn down to Buildwas ran
Coloured with the death of man,
Couched upon her brother's grave
The Saxon got me on the slave.
The sound of fight is silent long
That began the ancient wrong;
Long the voice of tears is still
That wept of old the endless ill.
In my heart it has not died,
The war that sleeps on Severn side;
They cease not fighting, east and west,
On the marches of my breast.
Here the truceless armies yet
Trample, rolled in blood and sweat;
They kill and kill and never die;
And I think that each is I.
None will part us, none undo
The knot that makes one flesh of two,
Sick with hatred, sick with pain,
Strangling—When shall we be slain?
When shall I be dead and rid
Of the wrong my father did?
How long, how long, till spade and hearse
Put to sleep my mother's curse?
二十八 威尔士人进行曲
映日的风标闪闪高照，
西鲁堡为塞汶河水环绕 ，
山头矗尖塔，山侧接长桥，
东西横隔千古塞汶潮。
黎明的大旗以主子雄姿
昂然进入英吉利关隘；
黑夜侵占时，溃败的落日
退往威尔士一路上流赤。
在昔战败者无限的碧血
曾环洒我母合卺的床席；
那里，为战争残破的家
门前广歇着宴集的乌鸦：
当塞汶河水向比尔大 奔逃，
被累累死亡翻出红涛，
杀兄，奴妹，坟土作阳台，
那撒克逊人搞我出来。
自从种下这古老的祸根，
沉默已久是杀伐之声；
呜噎的热泪也久矣寂寞，
一自痛哭那无底的罪恶。
可战争，虽睡在塞汶水次，
在我的心头并没有消逝；
东方和西方鏖战个不停，
盘据我胸中，跟着我前进。
这里面对垒的两军依然
相互践踏，滚着血与汗；
他们杀，杀，可永远不死；
而我则觉得全是我自己。
谁也分不开这两种骨血，
谁也解不了这一个结，
仇恨得要死，痛苦得要命，
我扼着我——几时才同尽？
几时我才能一死解决
我父亲当年作下的冤孽？
要多久，多久，柩辇与锄锹
最后才平息我母的诅咒？
XXIX THE LENT LILY
'Tis spring; come out to ramble
The hilly brakes around,
For under thorn and bramble
About the hollow ground
The primroses are found.
And there's the windflower chilly
With all the winds at play,
And there's the Lenten lily
That has not long to stay
And dies on Easter day.
And since till girls go maying
You find the primrose still,
And find the windflower playing
With every wind at will,
But not the daffodil,
Bring baskets now, and sally
Upon the spring's array,
And bear from hill and valley
The daffodil away
That dies on Easter day.
二十九 四旬花
春来了，出来散散步，
沿这带丛林游荡，
看，藏在野荆棘下面，
在谷中低洼的地方，
已有莲馨花开放。
那儿有冷淡 的银莲花
尽情在风中嬉斗；
还有那四旬的黄水仙，
它花时没有多久，
捱不到复活节后。
见说到女儿们寻芳 时
依旧有莲馨花开遍，
依旧有银莲花迎着风
任意与风儿缱绻，
只有黄水仙不见；
所以你带个篮子来，
踏上春天的锦绣，
把开了漫山遍谷的
那些黄水仙载走；
它捱不到复活节后。
XXX
Others, I am not the first,
Have willed more mischief than they durst:
If in the breathless night I too
Shiver now, 'tis nothing new.
More than I, if truth were told,
Have stood and sweated hot and cold,
And through their reins in ice and fire
Fear contended with desire.
Agued once like me were they,
But I like them shall win my way
Lastly to the bed of mould
Where there's neither heat nor cold.
But from my grave across my brow
Plays no wind of healing now,
And fire and ice within me fight
Beneath the suffocating night.
三十
别的人——我并不是第一个——
都曾闯过这不敢闯的祸：
所以，在这透不过气的夜晚，
我也抖战，并不能算稀罕。
说实话，除掉我许多人都曾
站立着淌汗，人又热又冷，
在他们血管内，欲望和惧怕
像烈火寒冰狠命地相搏。
他们当初也像我发过烧，
可我像他们也会捱得了，
最后找到我泥土的褥席，
那里没有冷也没有热。
可是目前从我的墓中
迎面吹不出疗疾的风，
一任我，在这窒息的夜晚，
寒冰和烈火在体内搏战。
XXXI
On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger
When Uricon the city stood:
'Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it threshed another wood.
Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman
At yonder heaving hill would stare:
The blood that warms an English yeoman,
The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.
There, like the wind through woods in riot,
Through him the gale of life blew high;
The tree of man was never quiet:
Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:
To-day the Roman and his trouble
Are ashes under Uricon.
三十一
温洛岭 一带草木深诉着悲苦；
雷铿冈 披离的林莽似叹息填膺；
狂风不断地摧击偃蹇 的幼树，
塞汶河上的风叶如雪片纷纷。
当古乌里恭 城堡犹高峙云霄，
也是这样风吹过森森的山谷：
一样是古代的风，古代的怒号，
虽则当年它挞伐另一片林木。
当年，远在我以前，那个罗马人
常向着那边起伏的山林凝睇：
一个英吉利农夫创痛的心情
和使他激奋的血液，他都有的是。
他那里，也像风吹过骚动的树林，
生命的风暴从他心头吹过；
树如此，人亦如此，永远不能平：
昔日有那罗马人，今日有我。
狂风不断地摧击偃蹇的幼树，
它吹得这样猛，将没有多久延捱：
今日那个罗马人和他的忧苦
已与古乌里恭城俱委荒埃。
XXXII
From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I.
Now—for a breath I tarry
Nor yet disperse apart—
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.
Speak now, and I will answer;
How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
I take my endless way.
三十二
从遐远，从黄昏与清晓，
与十二风 行的天上，
往这厢吹拢来生之质
合成我，而我以降。
今我在呼吸间此淹留，
算犹未飞散分化，
快执着我的手告诉我
你心头有什么话。
现在说，我可以回答你；
要我怎样做，你分付；
莫待我向天风十二方
拾上我无穷的征路。
XXXIII
If truth in hearts that perish
Could move the powers on high,
I think the love I bear you
Should make you not to die.
Sure, sure, if stedfast meaning,
If single thought could save,
The world might end to-morrow,
You should not see the grave.
This long and sure-set liking,
This boundless will to please,
—Oh, you should live for ever
If there were help in these.
But now, since all is idle,
To this lost heart be kind,
Ere to a town you journey
Where friends are ill to find.
三十三
要是凡人的一片心
能感动威灵的上苍，
我想我对于你的爱
当使你不致死亡。
的确，如果是意念坚，
如果心意专能解，
这世界明天就许完，
你不应进入坟台。
这久久不移的倾慕，
这无边爱护的愿心——
唉，你该永远活下去，
如果这些是有灵。
可如今，一切既白费，
愿你能稍给我温存，
要知你游往别处后，
那里是难得有故人。
XXXIV THE NEW MISTRESS
'Oh, sick I am to see you, will you never let me be?
You may be good for something but you are not good for me.
Oh, go where you are wanted, for you are not wanted here.'
And that was all the farewell when I parted from my dear.
'I will go where I am wanted, to a lady born and bred
Who will dress me free for nothing in a uniform of red;
She will not be sick to see me if I only keep it clean:
I will go where I am wanted for a soldier of the Queen.
'I will go where I am wanted, for the sergeant does not mind;
He may be sick to see me but he treats me very kind:
He gives me beer and breakfast and a ribbon for my cap,
And I never knew a sweetheart spend her money on a chap.
'I will go where I am wanted, where there's room for one or two,
And the men are none too many for the work there is to do;
Where the standing line wears thinner and the dropping dead lie thick;
And the enemies of England they shall see me and be sick.'
三十四 新欢
“啊，我真看见你头痛，你可能别缠着我？
你也许有点点好处，不过你配我还不够。
啊，哪里要你的你去，这里你没有人要。”
我临走我的好人儿送我的就是这一套。
哪里要我的我去，我要去找一位贵人，
她会一个钱不要，给我件红制服披身；
她见我也不会头痛，只要我穿得整洁：
哪里要我的我去，去当我女王的小卒。
哪里要我的我去，军曹他不会介意；
他也许看见我头痛，他待我却十分客气：
他给我早饭和啤酒，和一条带子帽上挂；
可有个女人替她相好的花费过一个大？
哪里要我的我去，一两个总插得进；
那里人不会嫌多，愈多干得愈有劲；
碰到阵线上人少，而阵地上伤亡渐重，
我要使英格兰的敌人对面看见我头痛。
XXXV
On the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams,
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a noise in dreams.
Far and near and low and louder
On the roads of earth go by,
Dear to friends and food for powder,
Soldiers marching, all to die.
East and west on fields forgotten
Bleach the bones of comrades slain,
Lovely lads and dead and rotten;
None that go return again.
Far the calling bugles hollo,
High the screaming fife replies,
Gay the files of scarlet follow:
Woman bore me, I will rise.
三十五
夏日偃卧 在寥落的山头，
流水淙淙添人的睡意，
远远我听见深沉的鼓手
声声敲着有似在梦寐。
由远而近，由低渐高，
土路上走着出发的人子，
友朋之宝，火药的饲料，
一批批兵，全都去送死。
东西战场上久无人顾，
捐躯者曝露白骨累累，
美好的少年既死且腐，
从来出去的没有人回。
呜咽 的军笳远远招人，
龙吟的短笛高声和奏，
猩色的行列欣欣随行：
父母生我，吾岂能独后？
XXXVI
White in the moon the long road lies,
The moon stands blank above;
White in the moon the long road lies
That leads me from my love.
Still hangs the hedge without a gust,
Still, still the shadows stay:
My feet upon the moonlit dust
Pursue the ceaseless way.
The world is round, so travellers tell,
And straight though reach the track,
Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well,
The way will guide one back.
But ere the circle homeward hies
Far, far must it remove:
White in the moon the long road lies
That leads me from my love.
三十六
月光下惨淡一条长路，
惨淡的月光高吐；
月光下惨淡一条长路
引我离吾爱远去。
静静的树篱没有风信，
静静的，静静的篱影：
我踏着地行行复行行，
满地的月华清冷。
世界是圆的，行客曾说，
不管路走去多直，
前进，前进，去去勿复戚，
人将有归来的一日。
可是路未及兜回家去，
须投往更远的远处：
月光下惨淡一条长路
引我离吾爱远去。
XXXVII
As through the wild green hills of Wyre
The train ran, changing sky and shire,
And far behind, a fading crest,
Low in the forsaken west
Sank the high-reared head of Clee,
My hand lay empty on my knee.
Aching on my knee it lay:
That morning half a shire away
So many an honest fellow's fist
Had well-nigh wrung it from the wrist.
Hand, said I, since now we part
From fields and men we know by heart,
For strangers' faces, strangers' lands,—
Hand, you have held true fellows' hands.
Be clean then; rot before you do
A thing they'd not believe of you.
You and I must keep from shame
In London streets the Shropshire name;
On banks of Thames they must not say
Severn breeds worse men than they;
And friends abroad must bear in mind
Friends at home they leave behind.
Oh, I shall be stiff and cold
When I forget you, hearts of gold;
The land where I shall mind you not
Is the land where all's forgot.
And if my foot returns no more
To Teme nor Corve nor Severn shore,
Luck, my lads, be with you still
By falling stream and standing hill,
By chiming tower and whispering tree,
Men that made a man of me.
About your work in town and farm
Still you'll keep my head from harm,
Still you'll help me, hands that gave
A grasp to friend me to the grave.
三十七
火车在怀尔 荒野的山中
奔驰着，变动着州原与天空，
远远在后面，一峰隐约，
犹见克里峥嵘的头角
低低向捐弃的西方落去。
那一天早晨，离此半郡路，
多少个忠实的朋友来握别，
我的手几乎被拉得脱节；
现在手搁在膝上空着，
我膝上这只手还觉得痛着。
我说手啊，现在我们既
离开了心契的斯人与斯地，
去会生人面，生人地去行走——
手啊，你既握过好朋友的手，
就要自爱；宁死莫去做
一件事叫他们信你不过。
在伦敦街上你我要爱护
西罗普郡名字不受到玷污；
泰晤士河边莫给人说口：
塞汶河生的人比他们更丑；
凡是出门的朋友心里头
要念着丢在家里的朋友。
唉，我要是忘记你们金石心，
除非是我啊体硬而手冰；
除非在一切不记忆之国，
你们乃会在我心头消失。
而且，孩子啊，如果我不回转
若 姆，或考夫，或塞汶河畔，
你们，曾经陶冶过我的人，
愿运气能够与你们长亲，
如山的长在，傍水的长流，
或风鸣的林下，或钟动的楼头。
当你们在镇上田间操作，
愿你们使我永绝于过恶；
愿你们给我的珍重的一握
扶助我，友我，直到我瞑目。
XXXVIII
The winds out of the west land blow,
My friends have breathed them there;
Warm with the blood of lads I know
Comes east the sighing air.
It fanned their temples, filled their lungs,
Scattered their forelocks free;
My friends made words of it with tongues
That talk no more to me.
Their voices, dying as they fly,
Loose on the wind are sown;
The names of men blow soundless by,
My fellows' and my own.
Oh lads, at home I heard you plain,
But here your speech is still,
And down the sighing wind in vain
You hollo from the hill.
The wind and I, we both were there,
But neither long abode;
Now through the friendless world we fare
And sigh upon the road.
三十八
风，曾经我朋友呼吸过的，
一阵阵吹出西陲；
为年轻人血液所暖的空气
叹息着向东流来。
它吹人鬓角，掠人额发，
装满他们的胸肺；
我朋友的舌头把它说成话，
可不再和我应对。
他们的声音边飞边堕，
疏落地撒在风中；
许多人名字无声地吹过——
我的和我的友朋。
孩子啊，在家乡我清楚听得，
但这里却寂然无闻；
你们从山头向山下呼唤，
空有叹息的风声。
风和我，我们都到过那边，
但谁也没有久留，
现在一路上各自叹息：
到这异乡来漂流。
XXXIX
'Tis time, I think, by Wenlock town
The golden broom should blow;
The hawthorn sprinkled up and down
Should charge the land with snow.
Spring will not wait the loiterer's time
Who keeps so long away;
So others wear the broom and climb
The hedgerows heaped with may.
Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,
Gold that I never see;
Lie long, high snowdrifts in the hedge
That will not shower on me.
三十九
现在温洛镇 一带想已是
金雀花开放时节；
高高下下飘坠的野棠 花
当积压 满地如雪。
春光因游子睽隔这许久，
将不等待他归期，
所以任别人插上金雀花，
攀越花满的棠篱。
啊，温洛岭边新近黄落的
是我无由看的金英；
沿棠篱，长阵似的雪花堆
再洒不上我的衣襟。
XL
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
四十
从远方飘来了一阵熏风
侵入人心坎：
那是何处在，那识面的青山，
寺塔与田园？
我认出，是不堪回首的乡邦
鲜映在眼前，
分明快乐的来时路，我如今
再不能回还。
XLI
In my own shire, if I was sad,
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed for the son she bore;
And standing hills, long to remain,
Shared their short-lived comrade's pain.
And bound for the same bourn as I,
On every road I wandered by,
Trod beside me, close and dear,
The beautiful and death-struck year:
Whether in the woodland brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale;
Or littering far the fields of May
Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay,
And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.
Yonder, lightening other loads,
The seasons range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another's care.
They have enough as 'tis: I see
In many an eye that measures me
The mortal sickness of a mind
Too unhappy to be kind.
Undone with misery, all they can
Is to hate their fellow man;
And till they drop they needs must still
Look at you and wish you ill.
四十一
在我的本乡如果我发愁，
家乡的安慰者我能够有：
大地，因为我的心怆楚，
会为她生育的孩子忧苦；
巍巍的群山，终古长存，
也分有它短命伙伴的悲恨。
而在我漫步的每一条路上，
亲密而接近地走在我身旁，
有美丽的，被死击中的华年，
和我赶往同一的终点：
我能在金黄的林间听到
山榉叶落下时作响萧萧，
我能见番红花浅紫或暗红
到处开绽在清秋溪谷中；
春天有野芹花雪白如练
在五月原野间铺出多远，
蓝色的风信子在青绿的林内
望去如一片浸天的春水。
在家乡，漫步于陇间陌头，
有四季风光减轻你烦忧，
但这里在伦敦街上，我不曾
见过这样的益友，只见人；
而他们也没有心思来担起
别人的忧苦，即使是愿意。
他们现在就够受：我看见
在打量我的多少眸子间，
一个深深受病的灵魂，
不快乐到顶，再无法子温存。
为困苦搞垮，他们的能为
只是恨他们自己的同类；
而且直到他们死，他们还
只管望着你，孕怀着不善。
XLII THE MERRY GUIDE
Once in the wind of morning
I ranged the thymy wold;
The world-wide air was azure
And all the brooks ran gold.
There through the dews beside me
Behold a youth that trod,
With feathered cap on forehead,
And poised a golden rod.
With mien to match the morning
And gay delightful guise
And friendly brows and laughter
He looked me in the eyes.
Oh whence, I asked, and whither?
He smiled and would not say,
And looked at me and beckoned
And laughed and led the way.
And with kind looks and laughter
And nought to say beside
We two went on together,
I and my happy guide.
Across the glittering pastures
And empty upland still
And solitude of shepherds
High in the folded hill,
By hanging woods and hamlets
That gaze through orchards down
On many a windmill turning
And far-discovered town,
With gay regards of promise
And sure unslackened stride
And smiles and nothing spoken
Led on my merry guide.
By blowing realms of woodland
With sunstruck vanes afield
And cloud-led shadows sailing
About the windy weald,
By valley-guarded granges
And silver waters wide,
Content at heart I followed
With my delightful guide.
And like the cloudy shadows
Across the country blown
We two fare on for ever,
But not we two alone.
With the great gale we journey
That breathes from gardens thinned,
Borne in the drift of blossoms
Whose petals throng the wind;
Buoyed on the heaven-heard whisper
Of dancing leaflets whirled
From all the woods that autumn
Bereaves in all the world.
And midst the fluttering legion
Of all that ever died
I follow, and before us
Goes the delightful guide,
With lips that brim with laughter
But never once respond,
And feet that fly on feathers,
And serpent-circled wand.
四十二 快乐的向导
有一天我在晨风里
漫步芳草的汀洲，
仰望青青的大气，
俯看金色的溪流。
在身边露水里我看见
一个行路的青年人，
额上覆一顶羽帽，
手里拿金杖一根。
他态度轻盈而快乐，
他丰神有若晨曦，
他眉宇之间含友意，
朝我眼睛看，笑嘻嘻。
我问他何来更何往，
他微笑而不肯吐，
他向我望着招招手，
笑呵呵在前引路。
我们俩一同向前行，
我和我快乐的向导，
我们间一语不交谈，
只蔼然相视微笑。
他穿过闪烁的草原，
和幽静冷落的平冈，
他拾上高在叠嶂间
牧羊人寂寞的方场；
他登山，穿林，过村；
村落，人家，和果园
俯眺着转动的风车
和远方历历的乡县；
他带着希望的神情
和坚定不移的步伐，
兴孜孜领我向前行，
微笑着，一语不发。
我走过着花的林丛，
四郊是映日的风标，
在狂风吹过的旷野里
白云带影子飞逃；
沿溪谷环卫的村庄
和广阔银灿的水流，
我安心安意追随在
我快乐的向导之后。
像风在郊原上吹过
无数无数的云影，
我们俩一径向前行，
然不仅我们两人。
从疏落的园林中吹来
满载花片的狂风，
我们随风而前进，
飘飘在落花风中；
从世界各处林地里
涌出动天的秋声，
回旋而飞舞的落叶
在风中载我们浮沉。
我杂在一切死亡者
翩跹的行伍中间，
我们在后面跟着走，
由快乐的向导领前；
他嘴边浮现着笑意，
但总是一声不响，
两足踏鸟羽轻飞，
手挽盘蛇的金杖。
XLIII THE IMMORTAL PART
When I meet the morning beam
Or lay me down at night to dream,
I hear my bones within me say,
'Another night, another day.
'When shall this slough of sense be cast,
This dust of thoughts be laid at last,
The man of flesh and soul be slain
And the man of bone remain?
'This tongue that talks, these lungs that shout,
These thews that hustle us about,
This brain that fills the skull with schemes,
And its humming hive of dreams,—
'These to-day are proud in power
And lord it in their little hour:
The immortal bones obey control
Of dying flesh and dying soul.
''Tis long till eve and morn are gone:
Slow the endless night comes on,
And late to fulness grows the birth
That shall last as long as earth.
'Wanderers eastward, wanderers west,
Know you why you cannot rest?
'Tis that every mother's son
Travails with a skeleton.
'Lie down in the bed of dust;
Bear the fruit that bear you must;
Bring the eternal seed to light,
And morn is all the same as night.
'Rest you so from trouble sore,
Fear the heat o' the sun no more,
Nor the snowing winter wild,
Now you labour not with child.
'Empty vessel, garment cast,
We that wore you long shall last.
—Another night, another day.'
So my bones within me say.
Therefore they shall do my will
To-day while I am master still,
And flesh and soul, now both are strong,
Shall hale the sullen slaves along,
Before this fire of sense decay,
This smoke of thought blow clean away,
And leave with ancient night alone
The stedfast and enduring bone.
四十三 不朽的部分
每当我醒来和晨光重逢，
或者在夜间躺下来入梦，
总听见我骨头在自语自言，
“又过了一晚，又过了一天！
“这感觉的蜕壳到几时脱却？
这灰扬的思绪几时才降落？
几时才显出骷髅人样子，
把那灵的人、肉的人齐杀死？
“这发言的舌头，这叫嚣的肺，
这催人碌碌的许许多气力，
这脑子，给脑壳装满机算，
还有它营营的一窝蜂梦幻——
“这些在今日骄掌着大权，
作弄威福于朝夕之间，
垂死的灵魂和垂死的肉
夷然控制着不朽的骨头。
“要等到清晓与黄昏俱杳，
缓缓降临那长夜浩浩，
才来到最后一次的诞生，
迟熟，晚成，与厚土同存。
“东去的行人，西去的旅客，
知否你因何永不能宁息？
那由于每个为人子的人
孕怀着白骨在隐隐作痛。
“躺下吧，躺上你泥土的蓐席，
结出果实吧，你不结也得结；
使永恒的种籽见诸天日，
清晨乃全然无别于夜黑。
“从此卸下你苦恼的双肩，
不再畏酷热的夏日炎炎，
也不再害怕严冬的风雪，
你今再没个婴儿要生出。
“空去的甑缶，弃置的衣裳，
惟我们用你者能挣得久长。
又过了一晚，又过了一天！”
我体内骨头在自语自言。
今天我所以仍然是主子，
这些悍仆们还听我驱使，
肉体和灵魂一朝还健好，
将会把他们押着一路跑；
直到这感觉的烈焰烧残，
这思绪的烟云一古脑吹散，
留下坚牢的白骨一堆
独自儿厮守终古长夜。
XLIV
Shot? so quick, so clean an ending?
Oh that was right, lad, that was brave:
Yours was not an ill for mending,
'Twas best to take it to the grave.
Oh you had forethought, you could reason,
And saw your road and where it led,
And early wise and brave in season
Put the pistol to your head.
Oh soon, and better so than later
After long disgrace and scorn,
You shot dead the household traitor,
The soul that should not have been born.
Right you guessed the rising morrow
And scorned to tread the mire you must:
Dust's your wages, son of sorrow,
But men may come to worse than dust.
Souls undone, undoing others,—
Long time since the tale began.
You would not live to wrong your brothers:
Oh lad, you died as fits a man.
Now to your grave shall friend and stranger
With ruth and some with envy come:
Undishonoured, clear of danger,
Clean of guilt, pass hence and home.
Turn safe to rest, no dreams, no waking;
And here, man, here's the wreath I've made:
'Tis not a gift that's worth the taking,
But wear it and it will not fade.
四十四
打死了？好快，好干脆就完结？
这样对，孩子，这样有种：
你的毛病啊已没法救药，
顶好的办法是把它葬送。
有见识算你，懂道理你算，
你看出你的路，和路的去向，
早早的趁流光，知机，敢断，
手枪抵准了脑袋瓜一放。
早一点好，省得到后日
受尽耻辱和人间的蔑视，
一枪打死你家宅内的贼，
那灵魂当初原不该出世。
来日是泥涂 ，你猜得准，
你不屑陷进，又不容挣出：
尘土是你的报酬 ，苦命人，
可是人会弄得连尘土不值。
灵魂坏掉，再去坏别个——
从故事一开头久已是如此。
宁可不活着，不累及同类，
孩子啊，你死的真够个汉子。
现在无论是相识不相识，
都会来送葬，有的惜，有的妒：
你清誉未越，清心无责，
清净无虑，从此兮归去。
安然躺下，无醒亦无梦；
这里，呔，汉子，是我做的花环 ：
一点儿礼物说不上奉送，
你拿去戴上吧，它总不凋残。
XLV
If it chance your eye offend you,
Pluck it out, lad, and be sound:
'Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you,
And many a balsam grows on ground.
And if your hand or foot offend you,
Cut it off, lad, and be whole;
But play the man, stand up and end you,
When your sickness is your soul.
四十五
如果是你的眼睛累及你，
手挖它出来，孩子，就治好；
你会痛，但这里有药膏敷你，
而且香油树地上要多少。
如果你的手或者足累及你，
砍掉它，孩子，还你的完人；
但是做个汉子，来，结果了你，
当那病根儿是你的灵魂。
XLVI
Bring, in this timeless grave to throw,
No cypress, sombre on the snow;
Snap not from the bitter yew
His leaves that live December through;
Break no rosemary, bright with rime
And sparkling to the cruel clime;
Nor plod the winter land to look
For willows in the icy brook
To cast them leafless round him: bring
No spray that ever buds in spring.
But if the Christmas field has kept
Awns the last gleaner overstept,
Or shrivelled flax, whose flower is blue
A single season, never two;
Or if one haulm whose year is o'er
Shivers on the upland frore,
—Oh, bring from hill and stream and plain
Whatever will not flower again,
To give him comfort: he and those
Shall bide eternal bedfellows
Where low upon the couch he lies
Whence he never shall arise.
四十六
雪中莫去摘黝黑的柏枝
投入此墓中，杳杳无岁时；
莫去折味苦性毒的杉树 ，
杉叶能将十二月捱度；
莫采迷迭香 ，皑皑着浓霜，
在凛冽寒气中闪映冬阳；
也莫去跋涉岁暮的原郊，
冰溪中去寻找衰柳 的空条
放在他身边罗列；莫撷
任何岁寒枝，春来还发叶。
但如果冬节的田野犹存
拾穗者往日踏过的麦茎；
或是一些干萎的胡麻，
青花只开一夏，不再发；
或一根豆梗，其时季已毕，
留在冻结的高地中颤栗——
啊，不管从原野，山边或水隈，
把一切不再开花的载来
给他以慰藉；当他潜进那
他从此不能升起的泉下，
这些将留着和他作陪，
千年，万年，一榻儿沉睡。
XLVII THE CARPENTER's SON
'Here the hangman stops his cart:
Now the best of friends must part.
Fare you well, for ill fare I:
Live, lads, and I will die.
'Oh, at home had I but stayed
'Prenticed to my father's trade,
Had I stuck to plane and adze,
I had not been lost, my lads.
'Then I might have built perhaps
Gallows-trees for other chaps,
Never dangled on my own,
Had I but left ill alone.
'Now, you see, they hang me high,
And the people passing by
Stop to shake their fists and curse;
So 'tis come from ill to worse.
'Here hang I, and right and left
Two poor fellows hang for theft:
All the same's the luck we prove,
Though the midmost hangs for love.
'Comrades all, that stand and gaze,
Walk henceforth in other ways;
See my neck and save your own:
Comrades all, leave ill alone.
'Make some day a decent end,
Shrewder fellows than your friend.
Fare you well, for ill fare I:
Live, lads, and I will die.'
四十七 某木匠子
绞手在这里停住他车子：
现在是好朋友也得要分离。
愿你们都好，不好的是我：
你们活去，孩子，我死就是了 。
唉，我要是安心地在家里
做学徒，学会我父亲的手艺，
我要是死抱着木刨和小斧，
孩子们，我不会走到这一步。
那样子我也许会替别人家
竖起木架子来，看他们朝上挂，
决计不至于把自己断送，
如果我放着坏事不去碰。
现在你们看我吊得高高，
路人看见我都停步说笑，
朝我挥拳头，朝我咒骂；
不想我愈弄愈弄得不像话 。
我吊死在这里，在左侧右侧
吊两个穷汉子 ，为了做贼：
我们的运气可算一样坏，
当中间这个虽说是为了爱。
瞠目而立的同志们大家，
从今天以后换条路去走吧；
看看我脖子，保全你头颅：
大家同志们，坏事由它去。
哪一天乖乖地赚个好收场，
不要学你朋友糊涂到这么样。
愿你们都好，不好的是我：
你们活去，孩子，我死就是了。
XLVIII
Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle,
Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong.
Think rather,—call to thought, if now you grieve a little,
The days when we had rest, O soul, for they were long.
Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry
I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;
Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:
Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.
Now, and I muse for why and never find the reason,
I pace the earth, and drink the air, and feel the sun.
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
Let us endure an hour and see injustice done.
Ay, look: high heaven and earth ail from the prime foundation;
All thoughts to rive the heart are here, and all are vain:
Horror and scorn and hate and fear and indignation—
Oh why did I awake? when shall I sleep again?
四十八
静些，灵魂儿，静些；你携的武器是脆弱的，
大地和高空来自远古，且根基坚强；
试想想——试回顾已往，如果现在不快乐些，
那些安息的日子，灵魂啊，那些够多长。
当时人也爱残酷，不过地窟内没亮，
我睡着看不见，眼泪落下，我并不悲戚，
我的汗流着，血涌出来，也从不懊丧：
当时我是好好的，过着我未出世的岁月。
现在我默默寻思，却找不出什么道理，
我踯躅着大地，饮着空气，薰沐着阳光。
静些，灵魂儿，静些，这仅有短短的一季：
让我们捱一个时辰，等着看不平事消亡。
看哪，高空和大地挣扎于远始的病苦；
一切心思只椎心欲裂，一切都枉然：
到处是恐怖，侮蔑，恨毒，忧虑，和愤怒——
啊，我为什么要醒转？何时我再得安眠？
XLIX
Think no more, lad; laugh, be jolly:
Why should men make haste to die?
Empty heads and tongues a-talking
Make the rough road easy walking,
And the feather pate of folly
Bears the falling sky.
Oh, 'tis jesting, dancing, drinking
Spins the heavy world around.
If young hearts were not so clever,
Oh, they would be young for ever:
Think no more; 'tis only thinking
Lays lads underground.
四十九
别再想了，孩子，笑笑，高高兴，
人干吗要死得这样快？
嘴里只管说，脑子空无所有，
会把难走的路变得容易走，
莫看那蠢蠢的草包，越是他
天掉下也撑得起来。
使这沉重世界旋转不息的
是喝酒啊，跳舞啊，胡缠，
年轻人的心若是不顶精明，
他们就会变得永远年轻：
别再想了，都是这样地想啊想，
把年轻人送进黄泉。
L
Clunton and Clunbury,
Clungunford and Clun,
Are the quietest places
Under the sun.
In valleys of springs of rivers,
By Ony and Teme and Clun,
The country for easy livers,
The quietest under the sun,
We still had sorrows to lighten,
One could not be always glad,
And lads knew trouble at Knighton
When I was a Knighton lad.
By bridges that Thames runs under,
In London, the town built ill,
'Tis sure small matter for wonder
If sorrow is with one still.
And if as a lad grows older
The troubles he bears are more,
He carries his griefs on a shoulder
That handselled them long before.
Where shall one halt to deliver
This luggage I'd lief set down?
Not Thames, not Teme is the river,
Nor London nor Knighton the town:
'Tis a long way further than Knighton,
A quieter place than Clun,
Where doomsday may thunder and lighten
And little 'twill matter to one.
五十
克仑登与克仑堡，
克仑根津与克仑，
是在阳光下
最幽静的地方。
在诸水汇聚的流域，
沿翁尼、 姆与克仑 ，
在那生活安闲的
阳光下最幽静的江村，
人依旧有恨要排遣，
谁能够永远无愁；
当我是尼登镇 一少年，
少年人就知有烦忧。
在伦敦这歹恶的城市，
泰晤士流过的桥边，
人如仍不免有恨事，
那没有奇怪足言。
待得人长大了一点，
他心内烦忧将更大；
他挑得沉重的双肩
早就把苦恼订下。
我哪儿才获得宁息，
卸下这行李一身轻？
姆，泰晤士，都不是，
也不是尼登，伦敦城：
那地带比尼登更辽远，
比克仑河边更静，
末日的雷电任施显，
对于人全没个要紧。
LI
Loitering with a vacant eye
Along the Grecian gallery,
And brooding on my heavy ill,
I met a statue standing still.
Still in marble stone stood he,
And stedfastly he looked at me.
'Well met,' I thought the look would say,
'We both were fashioned far away;
We neither knew, when we were young,
These Londoners we live among.'
Still he stood and eyed me hard,
An earnest and a grave regard:
'What, lad, drooping with your lot?
I too would be where I am not.
I too survey that endless line
Of men whose thoughts are not as mine.
Years, ere you stood up from rest,
On my neck the collar prest;
Years, when you lay down your ill,
I shall stand and bear it still.
Courage, lad, 'tis not for long:
Stand, quit you like stone, be strong.'
So I thought his look would say;
And light on me my trouble lay,
And I stept out in flesh and bone
Manful like the man of stone.
五十一
一个人走进希腊古物馆门，
两眼漠无所见，我独自逡行，
一面沉思着我深重的不幸，
忽见一座石像在面前立定。
他大理石身体静静地站着，
目光不移转地把我看着。
那神情好像和我说，“碰得巧，
我们俩的模样都是外地佬，
我们小时候谁也不曾听闻
和我们在一起的这些伦敦人。”
他立着不动，深深向我凝视，
带一种恳切而关心的神气：
“怎么，孩子，会颓丧到如此？
我也想念那回不去的乡里。
我也眼看着这无尽的人流，
永远不见一个心情与我投。
多年前，你安息着还没有起身，
我一个紧箍儿已套上颈根；
多年后，你的坏运早已交卸，
我仍将竖在这里受着苦罪。
孩子，拿出勇气来，这没多久：
忍耐些，硬挣些，譬你是块石头。”
从他眼光里我意会到这番话，
忧苦的心胸顿然感觉轻快。
我走出门去，一个血肉之身
雄赳赳地俨然是一座石人。
LII
Far in a western brookland
That bred me long ago
The poplars stand and tremble
By pools I used to know.
There, in the windless night-time,
The wanderer, marvelling why,
Halts on the bridge to hearken
How soft the poplars sigh.
He hears: no more remembered
In fields where I was known,
Here I lie down in London
And turn to rest alone.
There, by the starlit fences,
The wanderer halts and hears
My soul that lingers sighing
About the glimmering weirs.
五十二
远在那西方的水域，
多年前我生长之乡，
白杨树萧萧地摇曳
傍着我熟悉的池塘。
那里在风定的夜间
有行人驻足桥头，
在惊疑不定倾听着
白杨的叹息多轻柔。
他听着：我这里在伦敦
独自躺下来安息，
在我混熟的田野里
再也无人忆及。
那里在星映的篱边
行人驻足而倾听
我梦魂的叹息萦绕着
夜色微茫的堰景。
LIII THE TRUE LOVER
The lad came to the door at night,
When lovers crown their vows,
And whistled soft and out of sight
In shadow of the boughs.
'I shall not vex you with my face
Henceforth, my love, for aye;
So take me in your arms a space
Before the east is grey.
'When I from hence away am past
I shall not find a bride,
And you shall be the first and last
I ever lay beside.'
She heard and went and knew not why;
Her heart to his she laid;
Light was the air beneath the sky
But dark under the shade.
'Oh do you breathe, lad, that your breast
Seems not to rise and fall,
And here upon my bosom prest
There beats no heart at all?'
'Oh loud, my girl, it once would knock,
You should have felt it then;
But since for you I stopped the clock
It never goes again.'
'Oh lad, what is it, lad, that drips
Wet from your neck on mine?
What is it falling on my lips,
My lad, that tastes of brine?'
'Oh like enough 'tis blood, my dear,
For when the knife has slit
The throat across from ear to ear
'Twill bleed because of it.'
Under the stars the air was light
But dark below the boughs,
The still air of the speechless night,
When lovers crown their vows.
五十三 真情人
正是情人们盟誓的夜间，
那小伙子门口来到，
在树阴底下人躲着不见，
轻轻地吹着口哨。
“亲爱的，我从此再不来惹你
看见我的脸生气，
所以，趁东方露白以前
来和我搂抱一会。
“在我这一次走开以后，
我再找不到新人，
你将是和我睡在一起的
唯一而最后的情人。”
她听见去了，也莫明其妙
就两颗心躺在一起，
天光下面的夜色正朦胧，
但树下是黑漆漆地。
“小伙啊，你可呼吸？你胸口
怎不见一起一落？
你这里和我心抵着心，
怎没有心儿跳跃？”
“啊，亲爱的，从前它跳得很急，
当初你就该觉出，
但自从为你我停掉钟摆，
它再也跳动不得。”
“小伙啊，是什么从你脖子上
滴得我颈子稀湿？
小伙啊，是什么落到我嘴里？
尝起来就像盐汁。”
“那个，亲爱的，很可能是血，
因为当你拿刀子
把脖子从左耳划到右耳，
它就会流个不止。”
繁星下面夜色是亮的，
但树下是黑漆漆地，
长夜无语，沉寂的空气，
正是情人们盟誓时。
LIV
With rue my heart is laden
For golden friends I had,
For many a rose-lipt maiden
And many a lightfoot lad.
By brooks too broad for leaping
The lightfoot boys are laid;
The rose-lipt girls are sleeping
In fields where roses fade.
五十四
为昔日的金玉良朋，
我心中载满了伤悲，
为多少花颜的女儿，
为多少矫健的少年。
矫健的少年安卧在
无从飞越的溪边；
在春花凋谢的田野里，
沉睡着花颜的女儿。
LV
Westward on the high-hilled plains
Where for me the world began,
Still, I think, in newer veins
Frets the changeless blood of man.
Now that other lads than I
Strip to bathe on Severn shore,
They, no help, for all they try,
Tread the mill I trod before.
There, when hueless is the west
And the darkness hushes wide,
Where the lad lies down to rest
Stands the troubled dream beside.
There, on thoughts that once were mine,
Day looks down the eastern steep,
And the youth at morning shine
Makes the vow he will not keep.
五十五
西去在山岭嵯峨的领域，
对我那是世界的开头，
我想人们不变的血液
在新的脉管里将激动依旧。
现在是我以外别的孩子
解衣就浴于塞汶水干，
他们，没有治，任他们怎使，
都得忍受我经受的磨难。
那里，当西方敛去了余赪，
黑暗的寂静逐渐收拢，
年轻的孩子躺下来休息，
立在他身边是烦忧的梦。
那里，初日从东岭缘升，
下睨我一度曾有的心念，
晨光高照里有那少年人
立下了誓言他总不遵践。
LVI THE DAY OF BATTLE
'Far I hear the bugle blow
To call me where I would not go,
And the guns begin the song,
"Soldier, fly or stay for long."
'Comrade, if to turn and fly
Made a soldier never die,
Fly I would, for who would not?
'Tis sure no pleasure to be shot.
'But since the man that runs away
Lives to die another day,
And cowards' funerals, when they come,
Are not wept so well at home,
'Therefore, though the best is bad,
Stand and do the best, my lad;
Stand and fight and see your slain,
And take the bullet in your brain.'
五十六 作战日
远远我听见号角吹起，
召唤我上阵我打算不理，
还有大炮也放出金嗓：
“当兵的，溜吧，否则莫想。”
伙计也，如果转身一跑，
能使当兵的从此不老，
那我就溜，看有谁不做，
打死总不够什么快活。
可是人跑尽管跑得掉，
活些日子终须要睡倒，
而且懦夫们死了出丧，
家乡哭的总不大断肠。
所以，最好的虽说万难，
孩子，起来，拣最好的干，
起来上阵去看你战死，
拚着脑袋瓜吃进枪子。
LVII
You smile upon your friend to-day,
To-day his ills are over;
You hearken to the lover's say,
And happy is the lover.
'Tis late to hearken, late to smile,
But better late than never:
I shall have lived a little while
Before I die for ever.
五十七
今天你对你朋友笑，
今天他恶运交完；
痴心人的话你肯听，
痴心人也就心宽。
算来听已迟，笑也迟，
可是迟总聊胜于无：
在我未死去以前，
我总能活这一斯须。
LVIII
When I came last to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight pale,
Two friends kept step beside me,
Two honest lads and hale.
Now Dick lies long in the churchyard,
And Ned lies long in jail,
And I come home to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight pale.
五十八
上次我回到禄如镇，
一路上戴着淡月，
跟我走有两个好朋友，
两个都天真而活跃。
狄克呢，已长睡墓园里，
耐德是久困于缧绁，
我今禄如镇又归来，
一路上戴着淡月。
LIX THE ISLE OF PORTLAND
The star-filled seas are smooth to-night
From France to England strown;
Black towers above the Portland light
The felon-quarried stone.
On yonder island, not to rise,
Never to stir forth free,
Far from his folk a dead lad lies
That once was friends with me.
Lie you easy, dream you light,
And sleep you fast for aye;
And luckier may you find the night
Than ever you found the day.
五十九 宝兰岛
今晚上英法两岸间海水
填满了千里星斗，
宝兰岛黑塔高照宝兰山
死囚刨缺的石头。
再不能升起了，在那边岛上
永没有翻身的一日，
远离其亲人躺着个孩子，
他是我旧日的相识。
安心地卧吧，任情地酣睡，
梦魂永远无挂牵，
可能够黑夜不至像白天
那样与你无缘。
LX
Now hollow fires burn out to black,
And lights are guttering low:
Square your shoulders, lift your pack,
And leave your friends and go.
Oh never fear, man, nought's to dread,
Look not left nor right:
In all the endless road you tread
There's nothing but the night.
六十
现在炉中火已烧成灰烬，
灯光也摇摇欲坠，
挺起你肩膀，掀起你行囊 ，
丢下你朋友们再会。
汉子，不须愁，莫左瞻右顾，
莫当作有什么可怕，
此去的一条漫漫的长路
什么都没有，只有夜。
LXI HUGHLEY STEEPLE
The vane on Hughley steeple
Veers bright, a far-known sign,
And there lie Hughley people,
And there lie friends of mine.
Tall in their midst the tower
Divides the shade and sun,
And the clock strikes the hour
And tells the time to none.
To south the headstones cluster,
The sunny mounds lie thick;
The dead are more in muster
At Hughley than the quick.
North, for a soon-told number,
Chill graves the sexton delves,
And steeple-shadowed slumber
The slayers of themselves.
To north, to south, lie parted,
With Hughley tower above,
The kind, the single-hearted,
The lads I used to love.
And, south or north, 'tis only
A choice of friends one knows,
And I shall ne'er be lonely
Asleep with these or those.
六十一 休莱寺
风标烁烁地转动着，
远望见休莱的钟楼；
那里长眠着休莱人，
那里长眠着我朋友。
休莱寺高立在当中，
隔离开阳光和阴影，
钟楼上朝夕报时辰，
悠悠的永无人省。
南面的石表密成林，
阳光下处处崇墓；
在休莱死者要多于
检阅时生者的人数。
北面为生命不永者
有寺工掘下的冷坟，
而沉沉楼影里酣睡的
是些自杀掉的人。
在南面北面分隔着——
有休莱寺高临其间——
那良善的，我往昔笃爱的，
心地朴实的少年。
而无论南面或北面，
好朋友人只得几个，
而我是永不会孤单的，
和这些或那些同卧。
LXII
'Terence, this is stupid stuff:
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There can't be much amiss, 'tis clear,
To see the rate you drink your beer.
But oh, good Lord, the verse you make,
It gives a chap the belly-ache.
The cow, the old cow, she is dead;
It sleeps well, the horned head:
We poor lads, 'tis our turn now
To hear such tunes as killed the cow.
Pretty friendship 'tis to rhyme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping melancholy mad:
Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad.'
Why, if 'tis dancing you would be,
There's brisker pipes than poetry.
Say, for what were hop-yards meant,
Or why was Burton built on Trent?
Oh many a peer of England brews
Livelier liquor than the Muse,
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man.
Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think:
Look into the pewter pot
To see the world as the world's not.
And faith, 'tis pleasant till 'tis past:
The mischief is that 'twill not last.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie God knows where,
And carried half-way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a sterling lad;
And down in lovely muck I've lain,
Happy till I woke again.
Then I saw the morning sky:
Heigho, the tale was all a lie;
The world, it was the old world yet,
I was I, my things were wet,
And nothing now remained to do
But begin the game anew.
Therefore, since the world has still
Much good, but much less good than ill,
And while the sun and moon endure
Luck's a chance, but trouble's sure,
I'd face it as a wise man would,
And train for ill and not for good.
'Tis true, the stuff I bring for sale
Is not so brisk a brew as ale:
Out of a stem that scored the hand
I wrung it in a weary land.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the embittered hour;
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.
There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast,
They get their fill before they think
With poisoned meat and poisoned drink.
He gathered all that springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more,
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
They put arsenic in his meat
And stared aghast to watch him eat;
They poured strychnine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up:
They shook, they stared as white's their shirt:
Them it was their poison hurt.
—I tell the tale that I heard told.
Mithridates, he died old.
六十二
“泰伦司，这些诗写得多蠢：
你吃你东西吃的可真狠；
看你喝啤酒那样子起劲，
摆明你的人并没有毛病。
可是老天啊，你写的这些诗，
人看了真会一肚子闷气。
那头老母牛算早经死掉，
她倒着两只角，睡她的好觉：
现在是轮到我们该死，
要听这饿死老牛的调子 。
真够交情，使你的好友朋
变得忧忧失志而发疯，
一个个不得到头就呜呼：
来，孩子，作首歌我们跳舞。”
怎么，你要的若是跳舞曲，
自有比诗歌更生动的音乐。
你说，蛇麻 园的意思怎讲，
为什么伯顿要建在泉特 上？
啊，英格兰多少贵家会酿制
上口的饮料，远胜过缪士 ，
麦芽只有比密尔顿 更能
宣扬上帝怎样地对待人。
麦酒，汉子，麦酒顶配
那些没脑子人们的口胃：
向白 杯中看世界色相，
把世界看成个世界不像。
的确，当其时人倒也好受，
可恨是它没有办法持久。
唉，我也曾去禄如镇赶过集，
丢掉我领带天知道哪儿觅，
回家半路上肚子里满装
大杯小罐的禄如镇黄汤：
那时候世界像一点不错，
我自己也变成真实的好货；
我倒在可爱的垃圾中睡稳，
快快活活直到人苏醒，
于是我瞧见早晨的天光，
呀，那话儿原来全然是个谎；
世界还是老世界依旧，
我是我，我的衣衫都湿透，
现在更没有别的事好干，
只有将把戏从头再玩。
这世界上好事虽则尽有，
但比起坏事来好事远不够，
因此，只要日与月常新，
运气是碰巧，倒霉可一定；
我要学聪明人处世的智巧，
只打算它坏，不打算好。
固然，我卖的东西赶不上
麦酒那样轻松的佳酿；
我用了手掌大的一茎
在厌倦之乡中辛勤榨成。
可是你喝掉它，虽则它带酸味，
在酸苦的时辰味只有更美；
当你的灵魂处我的境地，
它对你心智都能有裨益；
而我将陪伴你，如果你不嫌，
度过那阴霾和云翳的天。
从前在东方有一个国王
（东方的国王在筵宴时常常
把下毒的酒和下毒的肉
不知不觉地吃一个够），
他向众毒汇萃的大地
采撷一切生命的汁液，
先是一点滴，渐由少而多，
把致命的毒藏尽数网罗。
当觥筹交错时，王高踞宝位，
兴高采烈，嬉笑而不经意；
人在他肉盆里加进砒霜，
睁着大眼睛看见他吃光；
人在他酒杯内放进鳖精，
骇异地看见他一饮而尽：
看得人，吓得人，脸色如白衣，
下毒人结果反害了自己。
我说这故事是闻自人道，
米司雷代第 王终至寿考。
LXIII
I hoed and trenched and weeded,
And took the flowers to fair:
I brought them home unheeded;
The hue was not the wear.
So up and down I sow them
For lads like me to find,
When I shall lie below them,
A dead man out of mind.
Some seed the birds devour,
And some the season mars,
But here and there will flower
The solitary stars,
And fields will yearly bear them
As light-leaved spring comes on,
And luckless lads will wear them
When I am dead and gone.
六十三
我锄地，翻泥，掘草，
采了花去赶市集：
市散又带了还家，
它不是时新的颜色。
于是我往返播种，
待他日如我的少年，
那时我将为陈死人
躺在我种籽下面。
有些种籽鸟吃掉，
有些为时令摧残，
但这里那里见到
几点孤星开绽。
年年草木发华滋，
田野将带来这点
给不幸的少年佩戴，
而我是去世已远。
Collected Gleanings 选译拾遗
V GRENADIER
（From Last Poems）
The Queen she sent to look for me,
The sergeant he did say,
'Young man, a soldier will you be
For thirteen pence a day?'
For thirteen pence a day did I
Take off the things I wore,
And I have marched to where I lie,
And I shall march no more.
My mouth is dry, my shirt is wet,
My blood runs all away,
So now I shall not die in debt
For thirteen pence a day.
To-morrow after new young men
The sergeant he must see,
For things will all be over then
Between the Queen and me.
And I shall have to bate my price,
For in the grave, they say,
Is neither knowledge nor device
Nor thirteen pence a day.
后·五 掷弹兵
女王差人来把我召去，
军曹对我说，“小伙子，
你可愿意当一名兵士，
一天给十三个便士？”
于是我为了十三个便士，
把身上的衣服脱掉，
并且挺进到我躺下的地方，
再没法挺进得了。
我的口干渴，我衣服湿透，
我的血都已流尽，
可是如今我再也用不着
为十三个便士卖命。
明天军曹他得另外挑选
别的小伙子顶替，
因为那时候我跟女王间
已全然没有交易。
而我也势将削减身价，
因为他们说，在阴世
既没有知识、谋算和工作，
也没有十三个便士。
X
（From Last Poems）
Could man be drunk for ever
With liquor, love, or fights,
Lief should I rouse at morning
And lief lie down of nights.
But men at whiles are sober
And think by fits and starts,
And if they think, they fasten
Their hands upon their hearts.
后·十
人如果能一世沉醉，
爱爱，喝喝酒，打打架，
谁不愿一早就起来？
谁不愿一晚就睡下？
无奈人有时也清醒，
也会东想想，西想想。
要是他们想，他们会
一双手紧勒在胸膛。
XIV THE CULPRIT
（From Last Poems）
The night my father got me
His mind was not on me;
He did not plague his fancy
To muse if I should be
The son you see.
The day my mother bore me
She was a fool and glad,
For all the pain I cost her,
That she had borne the lad
That borne she had.
My mother and my father
Out of the light they lie;
The warrant would not find them,
And here 'tis only I
Shall hang so high.
Oh let not man remember
The soul that God forgot,
But fetch the county kerchief
And noose me in the knot,
And I will rot.
For so the game is ended
That should not have begun.
My father and my mother
They had a likely son,
And I have none.
后·十四 罪犯
那夜我父亲弄到我，
他心上并没有我，
他没有费点点心思
想想他儿子，如果
那儿子是我。
那天我母亲生下我，
她是最糊涂不过；
她吃了我许多苦痛，
还开心她生下这个
她生的宝货。
我父亲和我母亲
如今在阴世里睡觉，
拘票拘他们不到。
这儿只剩我没处跑，
要高高被吊。
啊，莫让世人记取吧，
这上帝忘掉的灵魂。
只管将麻袋来套起，
紧紧将脖子结上绳，
我自化灰尘。
这把戏就如此完结，
其实早不该开头；
我父亲和我母亲
有个好儿子接后，
而我却没有。
XXVI
（From Last Poems）
The half-moon westers low, my love,
And the wind brings up the rain;
And wide apart lie we, my love,
And seas between the twain.
I know not if it rains, my love,
In the land where you do lie;
And oh, so sound you sleep, my love,
You know no more than I.
后·二十六
半轮月已是西沉去，吾爱，
风风又吹来雨雨。
今夜你睡得远远的，吾爱，
我俩间重洋深阻。
在你安睡的那地方，吾爱，
是否也风雨凄其？
唉，你是睡得那样沉，吾爱，
你和我一样不知。
（From More Poems）
They say my verse is sad: no wonder;
Its narrow measure spans
Tears of eternity, and sorrow,
Not mine, but man's.
This is for all ill-treated fellows
Unborn and unbegot,
For them to read when they're in trouble
And I am not.
外·序诗
人都说我的诗太苦，这无怪；
它那狭窄的格律
囊括有亘古的眼泪和恨，
不属我，而属于人类。
这是给一切受迫害的人们，
没有生，没有出世的
去读，当他们处在忧患时，
而我则不。
XXIV
（From More Poems）
Stone, steel, dominions pass,
Faith too, no wonder;
So leave alone the grass
That I am under.
All knots that lovers tie
Are tied to sever;
Here shall your sweet-heart lie,
Untrue for ever.
外·二十四
铁、石、山河俱有尽，
两情又何足道；
所以你还是离开这
我眠宿的墓草。
一切情人们打的结，
都结了还得拆；
这里将躺着你心上人，
永远地不忠实。
XXXVI
（From More Poems）
Here dead lie we because we did not choose
To live and shame the land from which we sprung.
Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose;
But young men think it is, and we were young.
外·三十六
我们在这儿躺着，皆因为不屑
活着而玷辱我们出生的乡邦。
生命，诚然，并没有什么足惜，
可我们年轻，而年轻人不如是想。
XLI
（From More Poems）
He looked at me with eyes I thought
I was not like to find;
The voice he begged for pence with brought
Another man to mind.
Oh, no, lad, never touch your cap;
It is not my half-crown;
You have it from a better chap
That long ago lay down.
Turn east and over Thames to Kent
And come to the sea's brim,
And find his everlasting tent
我没料再能碰见；
听到他乞求便士的声音，
另一人在脑中出现。
啊，不，孩子，莫碰你帽沿，
这不是我的半克郎 ，
你得自一个更好的少年，
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