惠特曼诗12首
In the night, in solitude, tears,
On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck'd in by the sand,
Tears, not a star shining, all dark and desolate,
Moist tears from the eyes of a muffled head;
O who is that ghost? that form in the dark, with tears?
What shapeless lump is that, bent, crouch'd there on the sand?
Streaming tears, sobbing tears, throes, choked with wild cries;
O storm, embodied, rising, careering with swift steps along the beach!
O wild and dismal night storm, with wind—O belching and desperate!
O shade so sedate and decorous by day, with calm countenance and regulated pace,
But away at night as you fly, none looking—O then the unloosen'd ocean,
Of tears! tears! tears!
泪水，连一颗晶莹的星都没有，到处是黑暗和凄凉，
潮湿的泪水，从蒙着头那人的眼里滴落下来，
啊，那鬼魂是谁？那在黑暗中落泪的形象是谁？
那在沙滩上弯着腰蹲伏着的不成形的隆起物是什么？
泉涌的泪，呜咽的泪，为粗犷的号哭哽塞住的痛苦，
啊，风暴，聚集成势，升腾，沿着海岸疾步飞奔！
啊，粗野而阴沉的黑夜的暴雨，夹着风——啊，滂沱而狂骤！
啊，白天是这样安详而文雅的阴魂，面容宁静，步履稳重，
但是你在黑夜里疾驶而无人看见的时候——啊，那就像没遮拦的汪洋一片，
是泪水！泪水！泪水！
To the Man-of-War-Bird
Thou who hast slept all night upon the storm,
Waking renew'd on thy prodigious pinions,
(Burst the wild storm? above it thou ascended'st,
And rested on the sky, thy slave that cradled thee,)
Now a blue point, far, far in heaven floating,
As to the light emerging here on deck I watch thee,
(Myself a speck, a point on the world's floating vast.)
Far, far at sea,
After the night's fierce drifts have strewn the shore with wrecks,
With re-appearing day as now so happy and serene,
The rosy and elastic dawn, the flashing sun,
The limpid spread of air cerulean,
Thou also re-appearest.
Thou born to match the gale, (thou art all wings,)
To cope with heaven and earth and sea and hurricane,
Thou ship of air that never furl'st thy sails,
Days, even weeks untired and onward, through spaces, realms gyrating,
At dusk that look'st on Senegal, at morn America,
That sport'st amid the lightning-flash and thunder-cloud,
In them, in thy experiences, had'st thou my soul,
What joys! what joys were thine!
躺卧在天上休息，天是你的摇篮和奴隶，）
现在是蓝色的一点，远远在天空中浮动，
像甲板上出现的灯光那样，我守望着你，
（我自己是一个微粒，是浮游着的广阔世界上的一点。）
在遥远又遥远的海上，
经过一夜在惊涛骇浪中漂泊，岸上布满了船只的残骸，
白天再现时又像现在一样快乐而晴朗，
那玫瑰红的、轻快的黎明，那熠熠闪光的太阳，
蓝色的空气清澈地铺开着。
你也重新出现。
你生来就和大风匹配；（你全身是翅膀，）
能对付天空、地球、大海和飓风，
你这空气中的船只从来不卷起你的帆篷，
成天，甚至几个星期都不知疲倦，只是向前，穿过空间，在各个领域里旋转着，
黄昏时出现的是塞内加尔，早晨是美利坚，
你在电光和雷云中游戏，
在其中，在你的经历中，你有着我的灵魂，
多大的欢乐！你的快乐有多么欢畅啊！
On the Beach at Night
On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up through the darkness,
While ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses spreading,
Lower sullen and fast athwart and down the sky,
Amid a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,
Ascends large and calm the lord-star Jupiter,
And nigh at hand, only a very little above,
Swim the delicate sisters the Pleiades.
From the beach the child holding the hand of her father,
Those burial-clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all,
Watching, silently weeps.
Weep not, child,
Weep not, my darling,
With these kisses let me remove your tears,
The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious,
They shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only in apparition,
Jupiter shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night, the Pleiades shall emerge,
They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again,
The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure,
The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine.
Then dearest child mournest thou only for Jupiter?
Considerest thou alone the burial of the stars?
Something there is,
(With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper,
I give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,)
Something there is more immortal even than the stars,
(Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter
Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,
Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.
在黑暗的高空，
贪婪的云彩，埋葬一切的云彩，在黑压压地铺开着，
阴沉而快速，横跨着从天边压下来，
在东方剩下的一条透明而清晰的以太带中间，
升起了那大而安详的星中之王朱庇特，
而近在手边，只是稍高一点，
游动着那几个娇美的姊妹：七颗明星。
在海滩上孩子紧拉着她父亲的手，
那些压下来埋葬一切的云彩不久就将胜利地吞食一切，
她守望着，默默地流着泪。
不要哭泣，孩子，
不要哭泣，我的宝贝，
让我用亲吻来擦干你的眼泪，
贪婪的云层不会长时间保持胜利，
它们不会继续占领天空，它们只是貌似吞食了星星，
朱庇特一定会出现，不要心焦，再守一个晚上，七颗明星一定会出现，
它们是不朽的，所有这些金色银色的星星会重新照亮，
大星小星定会重新照亮，它们是持久的，
巨大而不朽的恒星和持久而沉静的卫星会重新照亮。
那么，最亲爱的孩子，你只是为朱庇特悲伤吗？
你考虑的只是星星被埋葬吗？
有某种东西，
（我用嘴唇安慰你，还要悄悄对你说，
我向你提出第一个暗示、问题和间接含义，
有某种东西甚至比星星更加不死，
（埋葬已多次，不少个日日夜夜正在过去，）
有某种东西甚至比明亮的朱庇特还要持久，
胜似太阳或任何旋转着的卫星，
胜似那七颗灿烂的姊妹明星。
Europe
The 72d and 73d Years of These States
Suddenly out of its stale and drowsy lair, the lair of slaves,
Like lightning it le'pt forth half startled at itself,
Its feet upon the ashes and the rags, its hands tight to the throats of kings.
O hope and faith!
O aching close of exiled patriots' lives!
O many a sicken'd heart!
Turn back unto this day and make yourselves afresh.
And you, paid to defile the People—you liars, mark!
Not for numberless agonies, murders, lusts,
For court thieving in its manifold mean forms, worming from his simplicity the poor man's wages,
For many a promise sworn by royal lips and broken and laugh'd at in the breaking,
Then in their power not for all these did the blows strike revenge, or the heads of the nobles fall;
The People scorn'd the ferocity of kings.
But the sweetness of mercy brew'd bitter destruction, and the frighten'd monarchs come back,
Each comes in state with his train, hangman, priest, tax-gatherer,
Soldier, lawyer, lord, jailer, and sycophant.
Yet behind all lowering stealing, lo, a shape,
Vague as the night, draped interminably, head, front and form, in scarlet folds,
Whose face and eyes none may see,
Out of its robes only this, the red robes lifted by the arm,
One finger crook'd pointed high over the top, like the head of a snake appears.
Meanwhile corpses lie in new-made graves, bloody corpses of young men,
The rope of the gibbet hangs heavily, the bullets of princes are flying, the creatures of power laugh aloud,
And all these things bear fruits, and they are good.
Those corpses of young men,
Those martyrs that hang from the gibbets, those hearts pierc'd by the gray lead,
Cold and motionless as they seem live elsewhere with unslaughter'd vitality.
They live in other young men O kings!
They live in brothers again ready to defy you,
They were purified by death, they were taught and exalted.
Not a grave of the murder'd for freedom but grows seed for freedom, in its turn to bear seed,
Which the winds carry afar and re-sow, and the rains and the snows nourish.
Not a disembodied spirit can the weapons of tyrants let loose,
But it stalks invisibly over the earth, whispering, counseling, cautioning.
Liberty, let others despair of you—I never despair of you.
Is the house shut? is the master away?
Nevertheless, be ready, be not weary of watching,
He will soon return, his messengers come anon.
它的双脚践踏着骨灰和破旧衣服，它的手紧紧扼住了帝王们的喉咙。
啊，希望和信仰！
啊，流亡的爱国者在痛苦中结束了生命！
啊，那许多伤透了的心！
今天都回过头来吧，你们自己重新振作起来。
而你们，被雇用来给人民抹黑的人们——你们这些说谎者，听着！
不是为了无法计算的痛苦，残杀，荒淫无度，
是为了在宫廷中进行的各种卑鄙盗窃行为，利用那穷苦人的纯朴骗取他的工资，
为了帝王们的嘴唇所许下的诺言在他们反悔时被粉碎，被嘲笑。
在他们掌权时并非为这一切才作出报复的打击或使贵族的头颅落地，
人民鄙视帝王们的残暴。
但是宽容的仁慈酿成了辛酸的毁灭，受过惊的君主重又回来，
各自威武地带着随从、刽子手、僧侣、税吏，
兵士、律师、大臣、狱卒和专事奉承的人们。
然而在所有卑鄙的盗窃行为后面，看哪，是一个人影，
和黑夜一样朦胧，全身披挂，头，脸和身，紧裹着红袍，
谁也看不见他的脸和眼，
露在袍服外的只有一件，一只手臂掀起了红袍，
一根曲着的手指在上面高高指着，像是出现了一个蛇头。
这时候新砌的墓里躺着尸体，年青人血染的尸体，
绞架上的绳索沉重地挂着，王公们的子弹飞着，权势人物高声大笑，
所有这些都结下果实，而且是善果。
那些青年们的尸体，
那些吊在绞架上的烈士们，那些被灰色的铅弹穿透了的心，
看似僵冷，却在别处生机勃勃地活着，没有被杀害。
他们活在别的青年们心里，啊，帝王们！
他们又活在弟兄们心里，正准备反抗你们，
他们为死亡所净化，受到了教育，提高了。
每一座为自由而受到杀害者的坟墓都长出了自由的种子，种子又长出种子，
被风带到远处又重新下种，承受着雨雪的滋养。
暴君的武器不可能释放一个已丧失了肉体的灵魂，
但是它隐下行踪，在世上阔步地走着，说着悄悄话，商议着，告诫着。
自由，让别人对你失望吧——我决不对你失望。
房门关好了吗？主人走了吗？
但仍需作好准备，不能放松警戒，
他不久就回来，他的使者马上就会到来。
I Sit and Look Out
I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame,
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men at anguish with themselves, remorseful after deeds done,
I see in low life the mother misused by her children, dying, neglected, gaunt, desperate,
I see the wife misused by her husband, I see the treacherous seducer of young women,
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love attempted to be hid, I see these sights on the earth,
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny, I see martyrs and prisoners,
I observe a famine at sea, I observe the sailors casting lots who shall be kill'd to preserve the lives of the rest,
All these—all the meanness and agony without end I sitting look out upon,
我听见年轻人为自己做过的事情而悔恨不安，因痛苦而偷偷地抽抽搭搭地哭，
我看见在穷人中间那做母亲的受到她自己儿女的虐待，奄奄一息，无人照看，消瘦，绝望，
我看见那受丈夫虐待的妻子，我看见那诱奸青年妇女的歹徒，
我注意到力图隐藏起来的嫉妒和单恋的痛苦，我看见世上的这些情景，
我看见战争，瘟疫，暴政的恶果，我看见烈士与囚徒，
我看到海上的饥饿，我看到那些水手们抽签决定应轮到谁去牺牲以便维持其余人的生命，
我看到倨傲的人对待工人，穷人，黑人等的轻慢与鄙视态度；
所有这些——所有这些无止境的卑劣行为和痛苦，是我坐而眺望时所见，
看见，听见，并保持沉默。
The Dalliance of the Eagles
Skirting the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,)
Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles,
The rushing amorous contact high in space together,
The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel,
Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling,
In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling,
Till o'er the river pois'd, the twain yet one, a moment's lull,
A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing,
Upward again on slow-firm pinions slanting, their separate diverse flight,
那扭结在一起的利爪，一次活跃而凶猛的旋转，
四个扑打着的翅膀，两个铁钩喙，紧紧抱成打着圈圈的一团，
在翻滚、转身、结成一个个环形，笔直朝着下方跌落，
直到在河上稳住，既是双方，又结成一个，只是一瞬间的暂停，
在空中保持没有动作的平衡，然后拆散，放松了利爪，
斜拍着缓慢而结实的双翼，又飞向高空，各自分头翱翔，
她飞她的，他飞他的，互相追逐着。
Beat! Beat! Drums!
Beat! beat! drums! —blow! bugles! blow!
Through the windows—through doors—burst like a ruthless force,
Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation,
Into the school where the scholar is studying;
Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with his bride,
Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field or gathering his grain,
So fierce you whirr and pound you drums—so shrill you bugles blow.
Beat! beat! drums! —blow! bugles! blow!
Over the traffic of cities—over the rumble of wheels in the streets;
Are beds prepared for sleepers at night in the houses? no sleepers must sleep in those beds,
No bargainers' bargains by day—no brokers or speculators—would they continue?
Would the talkers be talking? would the singer attempt to sing?
Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before the judge?
Then rattle quicker, heavier drums—you bugles wilder blow.
Beat! beat! drums! —blow! bugles! blow!
Make no parley—stop for no expostulation,
Mind not the timid—mind not the weeper or prayer,
Mind not the old man beseeching the young man,
Let not the child's voice be heard, nor the mother's entreaties,
Make even the trestles to shake the dead where they lie awaiting the hearses,
So strong you thump O terrible drums—so loud you bugles blow.
冲进庄严的教堂，驱散了会众，
冲进了学生在学习的学校，
不要让新郎平安无事——他现在不能和新娘享受幸福，
也不要让和平的庄稼汉享受和平，耕地或收割，
你们这些鼓擂得有多凶猛——你们这些军号吹得够多刺耳。
敲吧！敲吧！鼓啊！——吹吧！军号！吹吧！
在城市的行人和车辆上空——在街上隆隆车轮声的上空；
房里还在铺好床让人们夜间睡觉吗？不能让人睡在那些床上，
白天不准谈交易——没有中间人，没有投机商——他们还想继续吗？
讲话的还想讲话吗？唱歌的还想唱歌吗？
律师还想在法院里站起来在法官面前陈说他的案情吗？
那就让鼓敲得更快更重些吧——你们这些军号吹得更疯狂些吧。
敲吧！敲吧！鼓啊！——吹吧！军号！吹吧！
不要谈判——不要停下来劝戒，
不要去理睬那胆小的——不要去理睬那个哭鼻子的和求上帝的，
不要去理那个哀求青年人的老人，
不要去听那小孩子的声音或那母亲的求告，
甚至让那个等着停放灵柩的支架也去摇撼那死者吧，
啊，你们这些震耳欲聋的鼓擂得有多强硬——你们这些军号吹得有多响亮。
Come Up from the Fields Father
Come up from the fields father, here's a letter from our Pete,
And come to the front door mother, here's a letter from thy dear son.
Lo, 'tis autumn,
Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages with leaves fluttering in the moderate wind,
Where apples ripe in the orchards hang and grapes on the trellis'd vines,
(Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines?
Smell you the buckwheat where the bees were lately buzzing?)
Above all, lo, the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain, and with wondrous clouds,
Below too, all calm, all vital and beautiful, and the farm prospers well.
Down in the fields all prospers well,
But now from the fields come father, come at the daughter's call.
And come to the entry mother, to the front door come right away.
Fast as she can she hurries, something ominous, her steps trembling,
She does not tarry to smooth her hair nor adjust her cap.
Open the envelope quickly,
O this is not our son's writing, yet his name is sign'd,
O a strange hand writes for our dear son, O stricken mother's soul!
All swims before her eyes, flashes with black, she catches the main words only,
Sentences broken, gunshot wound in the breast, cavalry skirmish, taken to hospital,
At present low, but will soon be better.
Ah now the single figure to me,
Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio with all its cities and farms,
Sickly white in the face and dull in the head, very faint,
By the jamb of a door leans.
Grieve not so, dear mother, (the just-grown daughter speaks through her sobs,
The little sisters huddle around speechless and dismay'd,)
See, dearest mother, the letter says Pete will soon be better.
Alas poor boy, he will never be better, (nor may-be needs to be better, that brave and simple soul,)
While they stand at home at the door he is dead already,
The only son is dead.
But the mother needs to be better,
She with thin form presently drest in black,
By day her meals untouch'd, then at night fitfully sleeping, often waking,
In the midnight waking, weeping, longing with one deep longing,
O that she might withdraw unnoticed, silent from life escape and withdraw,
To follow, to seek, to be with her dear dead son.
看哪，这是秋天，
看哪，树木更绿，更黄，更红了，
微风里抖颤着的树叶使俄亥俄的村庄显得凉爽又甜蜜，
果园里悬挂着成熟的苹果，棚架支起的藤蔓上悬挂着葡萄，
（你闻得到藤蔓上葡萄的气味吗？
蜜蜂们适才还在嗡嗡穿飞着的荞麦，你闻得到吗？）
看哪，特别是雨后的晴天多么宁静，多么明亮，还点缀着奇妙的云彩朵朵，
地上也一样，一片宁静，一切都生气勃勃而美丽，农庄也百事兴旺。
地里一切都十分兴旺，
但父亲现在却从地里走了上来，听从了女儿的呼唤，
母亲也到了门口，马上就来到了前门。
她尽量加快速度，不祥的预感使她步履不稳，
她顾不得花时间理顺头发，或把头上的帽子戴好。
快快把信封拆开，
啊，这不是我们儿子的笔迹，虽然署的是他的名字，
啊，是陌生人给我们亲爱的儿子代笔，啊，母亲的心受了多大的打击！
她只见面前一切在浮动，两眼发黑，只听到了主要内容，
支离破碎的句子：胸口受枪伤，骑兵遭遇战，已送进医院，
目前情况稍差，不久可望好转。
啊，俄亥俄虽然欣欣向荣，到处是城镇和农庄，
我现在却只看得见一个人的形象，
她脸色苍白、头脑麻木，四肢无力，
倚靠在门柱上。
不要这样悲伤，好母亲， （才长成的女儿抽咽着说，
小妹妹们挤成一团，一言不发，心中惊慌，）
你看，好母亲，信上说彼特不久就会好转。
哎呀，可怜的孩子，他永远不会好转了（其实也无须好转，那勇敢又朴素的灵魂，）
他们在家门口站着的时候他已经死去，
那独生子已经死去。
但是做母亲的却应该好转，
她瘦削的身子不久就穿上了黑衣，
白天她吃不下饭，晚上睡不稳，还时常惊醒，
午夜她醒来，呜呜哭泣，只怀着一个深切的愿望，
啊，但愿她能悄悄地离开，默默地逃离人间，
去跟踪，去寻找，去和她那亲爱的亡儿在一起。
Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night
Vigil strange I kept on the field one night;
When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day,
One look I but gave which your dear eyes return'd with a look I shall never forget,
One touch of your hand to mine O boy, reach'd up as you lay on the ground,
Then onward I sped in the battle, the even-contested battle,
Till late in the night reliev'd to the place at last again I made my way,
Found you in death so cold dear comrade, found your body son of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)
Bared your face in the starlight, curious the scene, cool blew the moderate night-wind,
Long there and then in vigil I stood, dimly around me the battlefield spreading,
Vigil wondrous and vigil sweet there in the fragrant silent night,
But not a tear fell, not even a long-drawn sigh, long, long I gazed,
Then on the earth partially reclining sat by your side leaning my chin in my hands,
Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you dearest comrade—not a tear, not a word,
Vigil of silence, love and death, vigil for you my son and my soldier,
As onward silently stars aloft, eastward new ones upward stole,
Vigil final for you brave boy, (I could not save you, swift was your death,
I faithfully loved you and cared for you living, I think we shall surely meet again,)
Till at latest lingering of the night, indeed just as the dawn appear'd,
My comrade I wrapt in his blanket, envelop'd well his form,
Folded the blanket well, tucking it carefully over head and care-fully under feet,
And there and then and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his grave, in his rude-dug grave I deposited,
Ending my vigil strange with that, vigil of night and battle-field dim,
Vigil for boy of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)
Vigil for comrade swiftly slain, vigil I never forget, how as day brighten'd,
I rose from the chill ground and folded my soldier well in his blanket,
你的手只碰了我的手一下，啊，孩子，是你倒在地上时伸过来的，
于是我又赶紧前去参加战斗，那场势均力敌的战斗，
直到深夜我下了班才最后回到了原地，
我看见你死后僵冷成这样，亲爱的伙伴，看见你那报人以热吻的身躯，儿子（此生已经不再能如此报答了），
在星光下，裸露着你的脸，四周里显得多么异样，微微的夜风吹得多清凉，
就在彼地彼时我长久地站着岗，四面隐隐是广阔的战场，
奇妙的岗，甜蜜的岗，在那芬芳、静穆的黑夜里，
却没有落下一滴泪，甚至没有吁出一声长叹，我凝视了许久，许久，
然后我在你身旁半躺卧似地坐在地上，两手托着下颌，
和你，最亲爱的伙伴，度过了甜蜜的时光，不朽而神秘的时光——没有一滴泪，不说一句话，
这是沉默、爱与死亡的站岗，是为你，我的儿子和我的士兵站岗，
当时高空的星光默默照亮，东方又有新的星群悄悄出现，
是为你站的最后一班岗，勇敢的孩子，（我没有能救下你，你死得太快，
你活着时我忠诚地爱你，关心着你，我想我们肯定会重逢，）
直到黑夜勾留到最后时刻，黎明才刚刚来到的时候，
我把我的伙伴用他的毡子包裹，严密地裹住了他的身体，
把毡子整理妥当；小心地裹住了头又小心地裹住了脚，
就在彼地彼时，在初升太阳的沐浴下，我把我儿子安放在那草草挖出的墓穴里，
就这样站完了一班奇异的岗，这一班在黑夜里和昏暗的战场上站的岗，
为那报人以热吻的孩子站岗（此生已不再能如此报答了），
为顷刻之间就被杀死的伙伴站岗，我永不能忘的一班岗，又怎样在东方微明时，
我从冰凉的地上站起，用他的毡子仔细包裹了我的兵士，
把他埋葬在他倒下的地方。
A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim
A sight in camp in the daybreak gray and dim,
As from my tent I emerge so early sleepless,
As slow I walk in the cool fresh air the path near by the hospital tent,
Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out there untended lying,
Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woolen blanket,
Gray and heavy blanket, folding, covering all.
Curious I halt and silent stand,
Then with light fingers I from the face of the nearest the first just lift the blanket;
Who are you elderly man so gaunt and grim, with well-gray'd hair, and flesh all sunken about the eyes?
Who are you my dear comrade?
Then to the second I step—and who are you my child and darling?
Who are you sweet boy with cheeks yet blooming?
Then to the third—a face nor child nor old, very calm, as of beautiful yellow-white ivory;
Young man I think I know you—I think this face is the face of the Christ himself,
Dead and divine and brother of all, and here again he lies.
我缓步在清凉的空气里，踏上了帐篷医院附近的小径，
我看见三个人的身躯在担架上躺着，停放在那里，无人看管，
每人身上盖着毡子，羊毛的棕褐色大毡子，
灰色厚重的毡子，围裹着，遮住了全身。
我好奇地止步，默默地站在那里，
然后用手指轻轻从第一个最近的那张脸上掀起了毡子，
你是谁，你这个又瘦又板着脸孔的老年人，披着一头银灰色的头发，眼睛边的皮肉陷得那么深？
你是谁，亲爱的伙伴？
然后我走向第二个——你是谁，我的孩子，我的亲人？
你是谁，你这个双颊还绯红的可爱的孩子？
然后是第三个——这张脸既非孩子的，也没有老，十分平静，像美丽的嫩黄象牙雕成的；
年轻人，我想我认识你——我想这张脸是基督他自己的脸，
死了，是神圣的，是众人的兄弟，现在又躺卧在这里。
Dirge for Two Veterans
The last sunbeam
Lightly falls from the finish'd Sabbath,
On the pavement here, and there beyond it is looking,
Down a new-made double grave.
Lo, the moon ascending,
Up from the east the silvery round moon,
Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon,
Immense and silent moon.
I see a sad procession,
And I hear the sound of coming full-key'd bugles,
All the channels of the city streets they're flooding,
As with voices and with tears.
I hear the great drums pounding,
And the small drums steady whirring,
And every blow of the great convulsive drums,
Strikes me through and through.
For the son is brought with the father,
(In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell,
Two veterans son and father dropt together,
And the double grave awaits them.)
Now nearer blow the bugles,
And the drums strike more convulsive,
And the daylight o'er the pavement quite has faded,
And the strong dead-march enwraps me.
In the eastern sky up-buoying,
The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumin'd,
('Tis some mother's large transparent face,
In heaven brighter growing.)
O strong dead-march you please me!
O moon immense with your silvery face you soothe me!
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans passing to burial!
What I have I also give you.
The moon gives you light,
And the bugles and the drums give you music,
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
落在这里的人行道上，从那里望过去，
是一座新垒的双穴坟墓。
看哪，月亮在上升，
从东边升起的是银白滚圆的月亮，
在房顶上美丽非常，鬼魂一样，幽灵似的月亮，
无比大的沉默的月亮。
我看见一个忧伤的行进队伍，
我听见渐渐走近、饱满的号角的声音，
它们泛滥了城市大街的所有渠道，
像沸腾着人声和眼泪。
我听见大鼓的声音隆隆，
又听见小鼓不断地冬冬敲响，
每一响巨大的震人肺腑的鼓声，
都深透地穿过了我的全身。
因为儿子是和父亲同时抬来的，
（他们在激烈攻势的最前列倒了下来，
两个老兵——儿子和父亲同时倒下，
双穴坟墓在等待着他们）。
号角声愈走愈近了，
鼙鼓敲打得更加震动人心，
人行道上的日光已经消失殆尽
雄壮的丧礼曲围绕在我周围。
东边天上正高高浮起，
那悲愁的巨大幽灵在微光下行进
（这是一位母亲的巨大、明亮的脸庞
在天上愈显得光明）。
啊，雄壮的丧礼曲你使我高兴！
啊，无比大的月亮的银色脸庞你使我安心！
啊，我的两位士兵！啊，我的老兵们正前去入土安葬！
我所占有的也要交给你们。
月亮给了你们光明，
号角和鼙鼓给了你们音乐，
而我的心，啊，我的士兵，我的老兵，
我的心把爱给了你们，
Ethiopia Saluting the Colors
Who are you dusky woman, so ancient hardly human,
With your woolly-white and turban'd head, and bare bony feet?
Why rising by the roadside here, do you the colors greet?
('Tis while our army lines Carolina's sands and pines,
Forth from thy hovel door thou Ethiopia com'st to me,
As under doughty Sherman I march toward the sea.)
Me master years a hundred since from my parents sunder'd,
A little child, they caught me as the savage beast is caught,
Then hither me across the sea the cruel slaver brought.
No further does she say, but lingering all the day,
Her high-borne turban'd head she wags, and rolls her darkling eye,
And courtesies to the regiments, the guidons moving by.
What is it fateful woman, so blear, hardly human?
Why wag your head with turban bound, yellow, red and green?
Are the things so strange and marvelous you see or have seen?
为什么你从这里的路旁站起来，朝着军旗致敬？
（那时我们军队正沿着卡罗来纳的沙地和松林列队前进，
你这埃塞俄比亚人从你那茅屋的门里出来向我走近，
而我这时正在勇猛的休曼部队里向着大海行军。）
一百年前我的主人硬叫我离开了我的父母，
我才是个孩子，他们捉住了我像捉一头野兽一样，
然后凶残的奴隶贩子把我带到了这里，远涉重洋。
她没有再往下说，而是整天在徘徊不去，
摆动着她那高昂的裹着头巾的头，转动着她那黢黑的眼睛，
向着走过的兵团，向着过路的队旗致敬。
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