济慈诗15首
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness—
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
II
Oh, for a draught of vintage! That hath been
Cooled a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
Oh, for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth,
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
III
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs;
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow.
IV
Away! away! For I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! Tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Clustered around by all her starry fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
V
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast-fading violets covered up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.0
VI
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die, 5
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod.
VII
Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path65
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas in fairy lands forlorn.70
VIII
Forlorn! The very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades75
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: —Do I wake or sleep?80
并不是嫉妒你那幸福的命运，
是你的欢乐使我过分地欣喜——
想到你呀，轻翼的林中天仙，
你让悠扬的乐音
充盈在山毛榉的一片葱笼和浓阴里，
你放开嗓门，尽情地歌唱着夏天。
II
哦，来一口葡萄美酒吧！来一口
长期在深深的地窖里冷藏的佳酿！
尝一口，就想到花神，田野绿油油，
舞蹈，歌人的吟唱，欢乐的骄阳！
来一大杯吧，盛满了南方的温热，
盛满了诗神的泉水，鲜红，清冽，
还有泡沫在杯沿闪烁如珍珠，
把杯口也染成紫色；
我要痛饮呵，再悄悄离开这世界，
同你一起隐入那幽深的林木：
III
远远地隐去，消失，完全忘掉
你在绿叶里永不知晓的事情，
忘掉世上的疲倦，病热，烦躁，
这里，人们对坐着互相听呻吟，
瘫痪者颤动着几根灰白的发丝，
青春渐渐地苍白，瘦削，死亡；
这里，只要想一想就发愁，伤悲，
绝望中两眼呆滞；
这里，美人保不住慧眼的光芒，
新生的爱情顷刻间就为之憔悴。
IV
去吧！去吧！我要向着你飞去，
不是伴酒神乘虎豹的车驾驰骋，
尽管迟钝的脑子困惑，犹豫，
我已凭诗神无形的羽翼登程：
已经跟你在一起了！夜这样柔美，
恰好月亮皇后登上了宝座，
群星仙子把她拥戴在中央；
但这里是一片幽晦，
只有微风吹过蒙眬的绿色
和曲折的苔径才带来一线天光。
V
我这里看不见脚下有什么鲜花，
看不见枝头挂什么温馨的嫩蕊，
只是在暗香里猜想每一朵奇葩，
猜想这时令怎样把千娇百媚
赐给草地，林莽，野生的果树枝；
那白色山楂花，开放在牧野的蔷薇；
隐藏在绿叶丛中易凋的紫罗兰；
那五月中旬的爱子——
盛满了露制醇醪的麝香玫瑰，
夏夜的蚊蝇在这里嗡嗡盘桓。0
VI
我在黑暗里谛听着：已经多少次
几乎堕入了死神安谧的爱情，
我用深思的诗韵唤他的名字，
请他把我这口气化入空明；
此刻呵，无上的幸福是停止呼吸，5
趁这午夜，安详地向人世告别，
而你呵，正在把你的精魂倾吐，
如此地心醉神迷！
你永远唱着，我已经失去听觉——
你唱安魂歌，我已经变成一堆土。
VII
你永远不会死去，不朽的精禽！
饥馑的世纪也未能使你屈服；
我今天夜里一度听见的歌音
在往古时代打动过皇帝和村夫：
恐怕这同样的歌声也曾经促使65
路得流泪，她满怀忧伤地站在
异地的麦田里，一心思念着家邦；
这歌声还曾多少次
迷醉了窗里人，她开窗面对大海
险恶的浪涛，在那失落的仙乡。70
VIII
失落！呵，这字眼像钟声一敲，
催我离开你，回复孤寂的自己！
再见！幻想这个骗人的小妖，
徒有虚名，再不能使人着迷。
再见！再见！你哀怨的歌音远去，75
流过了草地，越过了静静的溪水，
飘上了山腰，如今已深深地埋湮
在附近的密林幽谷：
这是幻象？还是醒时的梦寐？
音乐远去了：——我醒着，还是在酣眠？80
Ode on a Grecian Urn
I
Thou still unravished bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme!
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
II
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet do not grieve:
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
III
Ah, happy, happy boughs! That cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new!
More happy love, more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoyed,
For ever panting, and for ever young—
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
IV
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands dressed?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate can e'er return.
V
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! With brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed—
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty'—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.0
绿叶镶边的传说在你的身上缠，
讲的可是神，或人，或神人在一道，
活跃在滕陂，或者阿卡狄谷地？
什么人，什么神？什么样姑娘不情愿？
怎样疯狂的追求？竭力的脱逃？
什么笛，铃鼓？怎样忘情的狂喜？
II
听见的乐曲是悦耳，听不见的旋律
更甜美；风笛呵，你该继续吹奏；
不是对耳朵，而是对心灵奏出
无声的乐曲，送上更多的温柔：
树下的美少年，你永远不停止歌唱，
那些树木也永远不可能凋枯；
大胆的情郎，你永远得不到一吻，
虽然接近了目标——你可别悲伤，
她永远不衰老，尽管摘不到幸福，
你永远在爱着，她永远美丽动人！
III
啊，幸运的树枝！你永远不掉下
你的绿叶，永不向春光告别；
幸福的乐手，你永远不知道疲乏，
永远吹奏出永远新鲜的音乐；
幸福的爱情！更幸福、幸福的爱情！
永远热烈，永远等待着享受，
永远悸动着，永远是青春年少，
这一切情态，都这样超凡入圣，
永远不会让心灵餍足，发愁，
不会让额头发烧，舌干唇燥。
IV
这些前来祭祀的都是什么人？
神秘的祭司，你的牛向上天哀唤，
让花环挂满在她那光柔的腰身，
你要牵她去哪一座青葱的祭坛？
这是哪一座小城，河边的，海边的，
还是靠山的，筑一座护卫的城寨——
居民们倾城而出，赶清早去敬神？
小城呵，你的大街小巷将永远地
寂静无声，没一个灵魂会回来
说明你何以从此变成了芜城。
V
啊，雅典的形状！美的仪态！
身上雕满了大理石少女和男人，
树林伸枝柯，脚下倒伏着草莱；
你呵，缄口的形体！你冷嘲如“永恒”
教我们超脱思虑。冷色的牧歌！
等老年摧毁了我们这一代，那时，
你将仍然是人类的朋友，并且
会遇到另一些哀愁，你会对人说：
“美即是真，真即是美”——这就是
你们在世上所知道、该知道的一切。
Ode on Melancholy
I
No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kissed
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.
II
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Imprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.
III
She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Aye, in the very temple of Delight
Veiled Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
别用紫杉的坚果做你的念珠，
别让甲虫和墓畔的飞蛾变为
你忧伤的赛吉，别让披羽的鸱鸮
分享你心底隐秘的悲哀愁苦；
阴影来亲近阴影会困倦嗜睡，
会把灵魂中清醒的创痛淹没掉。
II
但一旦忧郁的意绪突然来到，
有如阴云洒着泪自天而降，
云雨滋润着垂头的花花草草，
四月的雾衣把一脉青山隐藏；
你就该让哀愁痛饮早晨的玫瑰，
或者饱餐海浪上空的虹彩，
或 者享足姹紫嫣红的牡丹；
若是你钟情的女郎娇嗔颦眉，
就抓住她的酥手，让她说痛快，
并深深品味她举世无双的慧眼。
III
她与“美”共处——那必将消亡的“美”；
还有“喜悦”，他的手总贴着嘴唇
说再见；令人痛苦的近邻“欣慰”，
只要蜜蜂啜一口，就变成毒鸩：
啊，就在“快乐”的庙堂之上，
隐藏的“忧郁”有她至尊的神龛，
虽然，只有舌头灵、味觉良好、
能咬破“快乐”果的人才能够瞧见：
他灵魂一旦把“忧郁”的威力品尝，
便成为她的战利品，悬挂在云霄。
To Autumn
I
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom friend of the maturing sun,
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run:
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells.
II
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary-floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
III
Where are the songs of spring? Aye, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
让苹果压弯农家苔绿的果树，
教每只水果都打心子里熟透；
教葫芦变大；榛子的外壳胀鼓鼓
包着甜果仁；使迟到的花儿这时候
开放，不断地开放，把蜜蜂牵住，
让蜜蜂以为暖和的光景要长驻；
看夏季已从粘稠的蜂巢里溢出。
II
谁不曾遇见你经常在仓廪的中央？
谁要是出外去寻找就会见到
你漫不经心地坐在粮仓的地板上，
让你的头发在扬谷的风中轻飘；
或者在收割了一半的犁沟里酣睡，
被罂粟的浓香所熏醉，你的镰刀
放过了下一垄庄稼和交缠的野花；
有时像拾了麦穗，你跨过溪水，
头上稳稳地顶着穗囊不晃摇；
或傍着榨汁机，一刻又一刻仔细瞧，
对滴到最后的果浆耐心地观察。
III
春歌在哪里？哎，春歌在哪里？
别想念春歌，——你有自己的音乐，
当层层云霞使渐暗的天空绚丽，
给大片留茬地抹上玫瑰的色泽，
这时小小的蚊蚋悲哀地合唱
在河边柳树丛中，随着微风
来而又去，蚊蚋升起又沉落；
长大的羔羊在山边鸣叫得响亮；
篱边的蟋蟀在歌唱；红胸的知更
从菜园发出百啭千鸣的高声，
群飞的燕子在空中呢喃话多。
On Peace
O Peace! and dost thou with thy presence bless
The dwellings of this war-surrounded isle,
Soothing with placid brow our late distress,
Making the triple kingdom brightly smile?
Joyful I hail thy presence; and I hail
The sweet companions that await on thee;
Complete my joy—let not my first wish fail,
Let the sweet mountain nymph thy favourite be,
With England's happiness proclaim Europa's liberty.
O Europe! let not sceptred tyrants see
That thou must shelter in thy former state;
Keep thy chains burst, and boldly say thou art free;
Give thy kings law—leave not uncurbed the great;
So with the honours past thou'lt win thy happier fate.
我欢呼你的来临；我也欢呼
那些伺候你的、可爱的友伴；
让我高兴：让我如愿，满足，
愿你喜爱这温柔的山林女仙；
凭英国的欢悦，宣布欧洲的自由！
欧洲呵！不能让暴君重来，不能再
让他见到你屈服于从前的状态；
打断锁链！高喊你不是狱囚！
叫君主守法，给枭雄套上笼头！
恐怖过去后，你的命运会好起来！
To Chatterton
O Chatterton, how very sad thy fate!
Dear child of sorrow—son of misery!
How soon the film of death obscured that eye,
Whence genius wildly flashed, and high debate.
How soon that voice, majestic and elate,
Melted in dying murmurs! Oh, how nigh
Was night to thy fair morning! Thou didst die
A half-blown floweret which cold blasts amate.
But this is past; thou art among the stars
Of highest heaven; to the rolling spheres
Thou sweetly singest; naught thy hymning mars,
Above the ingrate world and human fears.
On earth the good man base detraction bars
From thy fair name and waters it with tears.
1814
雄浑高昂的歌声很快嬗变，
没入了断章残篇！黑夜竟如此
逼近你美丽的早晨！你过早辞世，
暴风雪摧折了鲜花——刚开了一半。
这已经过去。你如今在重霄之上，
群星之间：你向旋转的天宇
美妙地歌唱：友善的歌声飞扬，
超越了忘恩的尘世和人间的忧惧。
地上有好心人爱你的名字，不让
贬损，用泪水灌溉你身后的美誉。
原诗韵式为彼得拉克式：abba abba cdc dcd；译文依原韵式。（济慈的十四行诗韵式，不每首注明。有代表性的或特殊型的则注明。译文韵式依原诗，有变动时亦注明。）
1814
To Lord Byron
Byron, how sweetly sad thy melody!
Attuning still the soul to tenderness,
As if soft Pity, with unusual stress,
Had touched her plaintive lute, and thou, being by,
Hadst caught the tones, nor suffered them to die.
O'ershading sorrow doth not make thee less
Delightful; thou thy griefs dost dress
With a bright halo, shining beamily;
As when a cloud a golden moon doth veil,
Its sides are tinged with a resplendent glow,
Through the dark robe oft amber rays prevail,
And like fair veins in sable marble flow;
Still warble, dying swan, still tell the tale,
The enchanting tale, the tale of pleasing woe.
1814
记住了这乐调，便不让琴曲消亡。
阴暗的伤心事没有减弱你令人
愉快的本性：你给自己的不幸
戴上清光轮，发射出耀眼的光芒；
恰似一朵云遮蔽了金黄的月魄，
月的边缘浸染着炫奇的辉煌，
琥珀色光线穿过黑袍而透射，
像紫貂玉石上美丽的脉纹流荡；
临别的天鹅呵！请继续歌唱，叙说
迷人的故事，那一份甜甜的悲凉。
Written on the Day that Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison
What though, for showing truth to flattered state,
Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he,
In his immortal spirit, been as free
As the sky-searching lark, and as elate.
Minion of grandeur, think you he did wait?
Think you he naught but prison walls did see,
Till, so unwilling, thou unturn'dst the key?
Ah, no! far happier, nobler was his fate.
In Spenser's halls he strayed, and bowers fair,
Culling enchanted flowers; and he flew
With daring Milton through the fields of air;
To regions of his own his genius true
Took happy flights. Who shall his fame impair
When thou art dead and all thy wretched crew?
Feb. 1815
他精神不朽，不羁，心胸宽阔。
权贵的宠仆呵！你以为他在等着？
你以为他只是整天瞧着狱墙，
等待你勉强用钥匙开锁，释放？
不呵！他高尚 得多，也坦荡得多！
他在斯宾塞的厅堂和亭院里徜徉， ②
采撷那令 人迷恋的鲜花；他随同
勇者弥尔顿向广袤的天宇翱翔： ③
他的天才正飞向自己的顶峰。
你们这一帮有一天名裂身亡，
他的美名将长存，谁敢撼动？
'O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell'
O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings. Climb with me the steep—
Nature's observatory—whence the dell,
Its flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
'Mongst boughs pavilioned, where the deer's swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are images of thoughts refined,
Is my soul's pleasure, and it sure must be
Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.
Jan. 1816
踏在大自然的嘹望台上，看山谷，
河水亮晶晶，草坡上野花满布，
像近在咫尺；在荫蔽的枝叶丛中
我要紧紧守着你，看小鹿跳纵，
使野蜂受惊，从仙人钟花丛飞出。
虽然我愉快地伴着你寻访美景，
可是同纯洁的心灵亲切交往，
听精妙思想形成的语言形象，
是我心魂的乐事；而且我相信
这几乎是人类能有的最高乐趣，
当一双相投的心灵向你奔去。
'How many bards gild the lapses of time'
How many bards gild the lapses of time!
A few of them have ever been the food
Of my delighted fancy—I could brood
Over their beauties, earthly, or sublime;
And often, when I sit me down to rhyme,
These will in throngs before my mind intrude:
But no confusion, no disturbance rude
Do they occasion; 'tis a pleasing chime.
So the unnumbered sounds that evening store:
The songs of birds, the whispering of the leaves,
The voice of waters, the great bell that heaves
With solemn sound, and thousand others more
That distance of recognizance bereaves,
Make pleasing music, and not wild uproar.
Mar. 1816
或质朴，或崇高，使我深思，默吟：
时常，当我坐下来神驰于诗韵，
那些华章便簇拥进我的心乡：
但它们没有引起刺耳的扰攘，
只是和谐地汇成动听的乐音。
仿佛积聚在黄昏的无数声响：
鸟儿歌唱，树叶飒飒地絮语，
流水潺潺，洪钟沉重地叩出
庄严的声音，还有那来自远方
难以辨认的千种鸣响，合奏出
绝妙的音乐，而不是聒噪喧嚷。
To a Friend who Sent Me Some Roses
As late I rambled in the happy fields,
What time the sky-lark shakes the tremulous dew
From his lush clover covert, when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields:
I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,
A fresh-blown musk-rose. 'Twas the first that threw
Its sweets upon the summer; graceful it grew
As is the wand that queen Titania wields.
And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,
I thought the garden-rose it far excelled.
But when, O Wells! Thy roses came to me,
My sense with their deliciousness was spelled;
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea
Whispered of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquelled.
29th June 1816
把凹痕累累的盾牌重新高举；
我看到大自然把最美的野花献出：
新开的麝香蔷薇，它迎着夏季
吐出最 早的甜香；它亭亭玉立，
像仙杖在提泰妮娅手中挥舞。 ②
当我饱餐着它的芳馨的时刻，
我想它远远胜过园中的玫瑰：
可是，韦尔斯！你的玫瑰给了我，
我的感官就迷醉于它们的甜美：
它们有亲切的嗓音，柔声地求索
平和，不渝的友谊，真理的光辉。
On Receiving a Laurel Crown from Leigh Hunt
Minutes are flying swiftly, and as yet
Nothing unearthly has enticed my brain
Into a delphic labyrinth. I would fain
Catch an immortal thought to pay the debt
I owe to the kind poet who has set
Upon my ambitious head a glorious gain.
Two bending laurel sprigs—'tis nearly pain
To be conscious of such a coronet.
Still time is fleeting, and no dream arises
Gorgeous as I would have it; only I see
A trampling down of what the world most prizes,
Turbans and crowns and blank regality—
And then I run into most wild surmises
Of all the many glories that may be.
June 1816
抓住那一闪不 朽的思想来偿还
我欠这温和诗人的债务，他已然
把光荣戴上我壮志凌云的额角。
这简直是一种痛苦：当我意识到
头上有冠冕——这两条桂枝弯弯。
光阴依然在飞驰，梦却绝不似
我想的那样辉煌—一我只是看到
世人最珍视的头巾和王冠，以及
绝对的王权，都被一一踏倒；
于是我立即产生狂热的猜疑——
困惑于这一切可能存在的荣耀。
To the Ladies who Saw Me Crowned
What is there in the universal earth
More lovely than a wreath from the bay tree?
Haply a halo round the moon, a glee
Circling from three sweet pair of lips in mirth;
And haply you will say the dewy birth
Of morning roses, ripplings tenderly
Spread by the halcyon's breast upon the sea—
But these comparisons are nothing worth.
Then is there nothing in the world so fair?
The silvery tears of April? Youth of May?
Or June that breathes out life for butterflies?
No—none of these can from my favourite bear
Away the palm; yet shall it ever pay
Due reverence to your most sovereign eyes.
June 1816
甜甜的嘴唇在欢乐中漾起的笑意；
也许你会说，是早晨带着露滴
绽开的玫瑰——或是神翠鸟的胸膛
向海上轻轻撒下的一圈细浪；
但是这些个比拟没什么意义。
那么，世界上没东西如此美丽？
四月的银泪？——五月的青春光焰？
或者，促蝴蝶诞生的六月天气？
不呵， 这些个比拟都不能夺去
我所宠爱的棕榈叶——愿它永远
向你们尊贵的眼睛表示敬意。
'To one who has been long in city pent'
To one who has been long in city pent,
'Tis very sweet to look into the fair
And open face of heaven, to breathe a prayer
Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
Who is more happy, when, with heart's content,
Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair
Of wavy grass and reads a debonair
And gentle tale of love and languishment?
Returning home at evening, with an ear
Catching the notes of Philomel, an eye
Watching the sailing cloudlet's bright career,
He mourns that day so soon has glided by:
E'en like the passage of an angel's tear
That falls through the clear ether silently.
June 1816
低声做祷告，这可是多么舒心！
谁比他更快乐？——他不求非分，
倦了就躺在波动的青草之间，
占个惬意的地方，开卷细看
温雅的故事，讲楚楚可怜的爱情。
到傍晚他走回家去，耳朵听着
夜莺正放开歌喉，眼睛注视
片云裹一身璀璨，在天边驶过，
他哀悼白天竟这样匆匆流逝：
仿佛天使的一颗泪珠坠落，
滑过明净的太空，默默地消失。
To my Brother George
Many the wonders I this day have seen:
The sun, when first he kissed away the tears
That filled the eyes of morn; the laurelled peers
Who from the feathery gold of evening lean;
The ocean with its vastness, its blue green,
Its ships, its rocks, its caves, its hopes, its fears,
Its voice mysterious, which whoso hears
Must think on what will be, and what has been.
E'en now, dear George, while this for you I write,
Cynthia is from her silken curtains peeping
So scantly that it seems her bridal night,
And she her half-discovered revels keeping.
But what, without the social thought of thee,
Would be the wonders of the sky and sea?
Aug. 1816
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