华兹华斯诗8首
Yarrow Visited
And is this—Yarrow?—This the Stream
Of which my fancy cherished,
So faithfully, a waking dream?
An image that hath perished!
O that some Minstrel's harp were near,
To utter notes of gladness,
And chase this silence from the air,
That fills my heart with sadness!
Yet why?—a silvery current flows
With uncontrolled meanderings;
Nor have these eyes by greener hills
Been soothed, in all my wanderings.
And, through her depths, Saint Mary's Lake
Is visibly delighted;
For not a feature of those hills
Is in the mirror slighted.
A blue sky bends o'er Yarrow vale,
Save where that pearly whiteness
Is round the rising sun diffused,
A tender hazy brightness;
Mild dawn of promise! that excludes
All profitless dejection;
Though not unwilling here to admit
A pensive recollection.
Where was it that the famous Flower
Of Yarrow Vale lay bleeding?
His bed perchance was yon smooth mound
On which the herd is feeding:
And haply from this crystal pool,
Now peaceful as the morning,
The Water-wraith ascended thrice—
And gave his doleful warning.
Delicious is the Lay that sings
The haunts of happy Lovers,
The path that leads them to the grove,
The leafy grove that covers:
And Pity sanctifies the Verse
That paints, by strength of sorrow,
The unconquerable strength of love;
Bear witness, rueful Yarrow!
But thou, that didst appear so fair
To fond imagination,
Dost rival in the light of day
Her delicate creation:
Meek loveliness is round thee spread,
A softness still and holy;
The grace of forest charms decayed,
And pastoral melancholy.
That region left, the vale unfolds
Rich groves of lofty stature,
With Yarrow winding through the pomp
Of cultivated nature;
And, rising from those lofty groves,
Behold a Ruin hoary!
The shattered front of Newark's Towers,
Renowned in Border story.
Fair scenes for childhood's opening bloom,
For sportive youth to stray in;
For manhood to enjoy his strength;
And age to wear away in!
Yon cottage seems a bower of bliss,
A covert for protection
Of tender thoughts, that nestle there—
The brood of chaste affection.
How sweet, on this autumnal day,
The wild-wood fruits to gather,
And on my True-love's forehead plant
A crest of blooming heather!
And what if I enwreathed my own!
'Twere no offence to reason;
The sober Hills thus deck their brows
To meet the wintry season.
I see—but not by sight alone,
Loved Yarrow, have I won thee;
A ray of fancy still survives—
Her sunshine plays upon thee!
Thy ever-youthful waters keep
A course of lively pleasure;
And gladsome notes my lips can breathe,
Accordant to the measure.
The vapours linger round the Heights,
They melt, and soon must vanish;
One hour is theirs, nor more is mine—
Sad thought, which I would banish,
But that I know, where'er I go,
Thy genuine image, Yarrow!
Will dwell with me—to heighten joy,
And cheer my mind in sorrow.
为什么怅惘？这一道银流
蜿蜒着，自由自在；
我从未见过别处的山峦
像这般苍翠可爱。
圣玛丽湖呵，喜透深心，
她笑容宛然可见；
因为山峦的异态奇姿
都在她镜中映现。
漠漠蓝天俯临于河谷，
惟有旭日的周围
闪射着白如珠玉的光华，
显得迷濛而柔美；
前程似锦的淡淡黎明
容不得消沉沮丧；
然而，它并不禁阻游人
沉入深思与回想。
哪儿是光荣的雅鲁勇士
流血倒下的地方？
他也许长眠于那座土丘——
此刻放牧着牛羊；
此刻像晨光一样宁静的
这一泓清亮池沼，
也许水鬼曾三次现形，
发出凄惨的警告。
迷人的是那首歌谣，它吟唱
情人约会的去处——
以浓阴遮护他们的幽林，
通向幽林的小路；
还有那首诗，因悲悯而崇高，
它痛切有力地描述
爱的坚毅不屈的力量；
作证吧，悲哀的雅鲁！
以前，在我痴情想象中，
雅鲁呵，你何等明丽；
今日，阳光下，你的真貌
与想象也堪匹敌；
周遭是一片甘美温馨，
圣洁、祥和而静谧；
芳菲凋谢后山林的幽韵，
田野秋色的凄迷。
过了这一带，河谷便露出
挺拔稠密的林木；
雅鲁曲曲弯弯地流过
那片丰饶的沃土；
挺拔的林木中间，耸立着
苍老的断垣残壁，
那是边境传说里有名的
纽瓦克古堡遗迹。
让童年在此开花吐蕊；
让少年在此游乐；
让壮年在此欢娱尽兴；
让老年在此消磨！
那边素淡无华的村舍
仿佛是洞天福地，
佑护着温婉慈惠的心思，
孳育着纯真情谊。
多么惬意呵，趁秋高气爽，
把林间野果采集，
把一枝石楠花当作华簪，
插上伊人的发髻！
要是我自己戴上个花环，
也不算违情悖理；
你看群山也装扮一新，
迎候来临的冬季。
雅鲁呵，我看到（不单凭视力）
你已经让我赢得；
遐想的明辉并没有消隐，
还在你上空闪射！
你这青春常在的河川
流得活泼而欢乐；
我也能唱出愉快的歌曲，
同你的调子配合。
山前岭后飘游的雾霭
不一刻便会消失；
它们太短暂，我也同样——
要驱除这种忧思！
Composed by the Seaside near Calais
Fair Star of evening, Splendour of the west,
Star of my Country!—on the horizon's brink
Thou hangest, stooping, as might seem, to sink
On England's bosom; yet well pleased to rest,
Meanwhile, and be to her a glorious crest
Conspicuous to the Nations. Thou, I think,
Shouldst be my Country's emblem; and shouldst wink,
Bright Star! with laughter on her banners, drest
In thy fresh beauty. There! that dusky spot
Beneath thee, that is England; there she lies.
Blessings be on you both! one hope, one lot,
One life, one glory!—I, with many a fear
For my dear Country, many heartfelt sighs,
Among men who do not love her, linger here.
仿佛要投入英格兰怀中；同时
又乐于留在天边，做一颗宝石，
在她华冠上闪耀，让万国瞻仰。
你该是英国的标志；该披上盛装，
开怀欢笑，映照着她的旗帜。
你下边，黑幽幽一片，那就是英国。
愿上天赐福于你们两者！给你们
同样的希望，同样的命运和生活，
同样的荣耀！为英国，我耿耿多忧，
频频长叹——当我伴随着一群
不爱英国的异邦人，在此地羁留。
Calais, August, 1802
Is it a reed that's shaken by the wind,
Or what is it that ye go forth to see?
Lords, lawyers, statesmen, squires of low degree,
Men known, and men unknown, sick, lame, and blind,
Post forward all, like creatures of one kind,
With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the knee
In France, before the new-born Majesty.
'Tis ever thus. Ye men of prostrate mind,
A seemly reverence may be paid to power;
But that's a loyal virtue, never sown
In haste, nor springing with a transient shower:
When truth, when sense, when liberty were flown,
What hardship had it been to wait an hour?
Shame on you, feeble Heads, to slavery prone!
名流，无名者，瞎子，瘸子，病夫，
密密匝匝，像虫蚁倾巢而出，
争先恐后，捧着进贡的礼品，
屈膝膜拜法兰西登位的新君。
从来便如此。你们，卑下的臣仆，
可以向权势者表示相当的钦仰；
但忠爱之忱又岂能匆忙播种，
又岂能一遇骤雨便抽芽茁长？
当真理、自由、理智都一去无踪，
便等待一时半刻又有何妨？
令人齿冷呵，甘当奴隶的贱种！
On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic
Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee;
And was the safeguard of the west: the worth
Of Venice did not fall below her birth,
Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty.
She was a maiden City, bright and free;
No guile seduced, no force could violate;
And, when she took unto herself a Mate,
She must espouse the everlasting Sea.
And what if she had seen those glories fade,
Those titles vanish, and that strength decay;
Yet shall some tribute of regret be paid
When her long life hath reached its final day:
Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade
Of that which once was great is passed away.
为威尼斯共和国覆亡而作
锦绣东方曾一度归她主宰；
西方也靠她卫护，受她庇荫；
威尼斯的声价无愧于她的身份——
她原是自由女神第一个婴孩。
贞淑如处女，明艳而从容自在，
阴谋和暴力都对她丝毫无损；
当她有意为自己找一个情人，
她便选中了万古如斯的大海。
后来呢，她权势衰颓，荣华枯槁，
尊严沦落，谁能料世事茫茫；
而当她悠长的生命终于不保，
My heart leaps up when I behold
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
The Sparrow's Nest
Behold, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight.
I started—seeming to espy
The home and sheltered bed,
The Sparrow's dwelling, which, hard by
My Father's house, in wet or dry
My sister Emmeline and I
Together visited.
She looked at it and seemed to fear it;
Dreading, tho' wishing, to be near it:
Such heart was in her, being then
A little Prattler among men.
The Blessing of my later years
Was with me when a boy:
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;
And humble cares, and delicate fears;
A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;
And love, and thought, and joy.
麻雀窝
快瞧，这绿叶浓阴里面，
藏着一窝青青的鸟蛋!
这偶然瞥见的景象，看起来
像迷人幻境，闪烁着光彩。
我惊恐不安——仿佛在窥视
别人隐秘的眠床；
这个窝靠近我们的居室，
不分晴雨，也不问干湿，
我和艾米兰妹妹总是
一道去把它探望。
她望着鸟窝，好像有点怕：
又想挨近它，又怕惊动它；
她还是口齿不清的小姑娘，
便有了这样一副好心肠！
我后来的福分，早在童年
便已经与我同在：
她给我一双耳朵，一双眼，
锐敏的忧惧，琐细的挂牵，
一颗心——甜蜜泪水的泉源，
思想，欢乐，还有爱。
Foresight
That is work of waste and ruin—
Do as Charles and I are doing!
Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
We must spare them—here are many:
Look at it—the flower is small,
Small and low, though fair as any:
Do not touch it! summers two
I am older, Anne, than you.
Pull the primrose, sister Anne!
Pull as many as you can.
—Here are daisies, take your fill;
Pansies, and the cuckoo-flower:
Of the lofty daffodil
Make your bed, or make your bower;
Fill your lap and fill your bosom;
Only spare the strawberry-blossom!
Primroses, the Spring may love them—
Summer knows but little of them:
Violets, a barren kind,
Withered on the ground must lie;
Daisies leave no fruit behind
When the pretty flowerets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.
God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured strawberry-flower.
Hither soon as spring is fled
You and Charles and I will walk;
Lurking berries, ripe and red,
Then will hang on every stalk,
Each within its leafy bower;
And for that promise spare the flower!
远见
那样做简直是破坏，是糟蹋——
来学学我和查理的做法！
瞧这儿开了这么多草莓花，
可是这种花我们不能采；
它们挺美的，比谁也不差，
可是你瞧——花儿小，枝子矮；
别动手，别碰它，安妮妹妹！
听我的，我好歹比你大两岁。
安妮妹妹呵！快来采樱草，
采得了多少你就采多少。
这儿有雏菊，由你尽量采；
还有三色堇，还有剪秋萝；
高高的水仙花，你也采些来
装扮你床铺，装扮你住所；
盛满你衣兜，插满你前襟；
只有草莓花，手下要留情！
樱草的好日子是在春天，
一到夏天它们就少见；
紫罗兰只开花不结果实，
到时候就枯了，倒在尘埃；
小小雏菊花模样标致，
谢了，也没有果子留下来；
这些花你采吧，到了明年
它们照样开，一开一大片。
草莓够交情，有果子让人吃，
这是上帝给它的本事。
过不了多久，春天就溜啦，
你我和查理再到这儿来；
那时候，莓子都红啦，熟啦，
挂在枝子上，有叶子遮盖；
为了那一天吃个痛快，
草莓花儿呵你可不能采！
Lucy Gray
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.
No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,
—The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!
You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.
"To-night will be a stormy night—
You to the town must go;
And take a lantern, Child, to light
Your mother through the snow."
"That, Father! will I gladly do:
'Tis scarcely afternoon—
The minster-clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the moon!"
At this the Father raised his hook,
And snapped a faggot-band;
He plied his work;—and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.
Not blither is the mountain roe:
With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse the powdery snow,
That rises up like smoke.
The storm came on before its time:
She wandered up and down;
And many a hill did Lucy climb:
But never reached the town.
The wretched parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide;
But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.
At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlooked the moor;
And thence they saw the bridge of wood,
A furlong from their door.
They wept—and, turning homeward, cried,
"In heaven we all shall meet;"
—When in the snow the mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.
Then downwards from the steep hill's edge
They tracked the footmarks small;
And through the broken hawthorn hedge,
And by the long stone-wall;
And then an open field they crossed:
The marks were still the same;
They tracked them on, nor ever lost;
And to the bridge they came.
They followed from the snowy bank
Those footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank;
And further there were none!
—Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living child;
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome wild.
O'er rough and smooth she trips along,
And never looks behind;
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind.
露西·格瑞
我多次听说过露西·格瑞；
当我在野外独行，
天亮时，偶然瞥见过一回
这孤独女孩的形影。
露西的住处是辽阔荒地，
她没有同伴、朋友；
人世间千家万户的孩子里
就数她甜蜜温柔！
你还能瞧见嬉闹的小山羊，
草地上野兔欢跳；
露西·格瑞的可爱脸庞
却再也不能见到。
“今天夜里准会起暴风，
你得进城去一趟；
孩子，你得带一盏提灯，
雪地里给你妈照亮。”
“我很乐意走一趟，爸爸！
晌午刚过了不久——
教堂的大钟刚敲过两下，
月亮还远在那头。”
这时，她父亲便举起镰刀，
砍断柴捆的围箍；
他忙着干活，露西便趁早
提着那盏灯上路。
山上小鹿哪有她活泼：
她步子变换不定，
脚儿扬起了白雪粉末，
像一阵烟雾腾腾。
大风暴提前来到了荒原，
荒原上走着露西；
她上坡下坡，越岭翻山，
却没有走到城里。
整整一夜，焦急的爹娘
四下里奔跑喊叫；
听不到声音，看不到迹象，
上哪儿把她寻找！
天亮了，他们俩登上山头——
山头俯临着荒地；
那座桥（离家门两百米左右）
显露在他们眼底。
他们哭起来，往回走，哭叫：
“在天国再见吧，亲人！”
雪地里，那母亲忽然看到
露西的小小脚印。
他们走下陡峭的山崖，
紧跟着那一线脚印；
穿过残破的山楂篱笆，
傍着石头墙行进；
他们踏过那一片荒地，
脚印还历历可见；
他们紧跟着，寸步不离，
终于来到了桥边。
他们紧跟着，从积雪的河滨
直到木桥的中段；
那一个挨着一个的脚印
到此便陡然中断！
有人坚持说：直到如今，
露西还活在人间；
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