朗费罗诗10首
The young Endymion sleeps Endymion's sleep;
The shepherd-boy whose tale was left half told!
The solemn grove uplifts its shield of gold
To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep;
It is midsummer, but the air is cold;
Can it be death? Alas, beside the fold
A shepherd's pipe lies shattered near his sheep.
Lo! in the moonlight gleams a marble white,
On which I read: "Here lieth one whose name
Was writ in water." And was this the meed
Of his sweet singing? Rather let me write:
"The smoking flax before it burst to flame
Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed."
The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
Slowly upon the amber air unrolled,
The falling mantle of the Prophet seems.
From the dim headlands many a light-house gleams,
The street-lamps of the ocean; and behold,
O'erhead the banners of the night unfold;
The day hath passed into the land of dreams.
O summer day beside the joyous sea!
O summer day so wonderful and white,
So full of gladness and so full of pain!
Forever and forever shalt thou be
To some the gravestone of a dead delight,
To some the landmark of a new domain.
The Tides
I saw the long line of the vacant shore,
The sea-weed and the shells upon the sand,
And the brown rocks left bare on every hand,
As if the ebbing tide would flow no more.
Then heard I, more distinctly than before,
The ocean breathe and its great breast expand,
And hurrying came on the defenceless land
The insurgent waters with tumultuous roar.
All thought and feeling and desire, I said,
Love, laughter, and the exultant joy of song
Have ebbed from me forever! Suddenly o'er me
They swept again from their deep ocean bed,
And in a tumult of delight, and strong
As youth, and beautiful as youth, upbore me.
潮
我看见一线漫长空旷的海岸,
沙滩上,海藻和贝壳零星散布,
焦黄光裸的岩石兀立四处,
仿佛退落的潮水永不再怒卷。
随后,比以前更清晰,我又听见
大海在喘息,它浩瀚胸膛在起伏,
狂躁的洪流,以一片鼓噪号呼,
气冲冲扑向毫无防御的岸边。
我说过:所有的心思,感触,愿望,
爱情,欢笑,妙曲清歌的陶醉,
已经永远从我的心头退去!
蓦然,它们又冲出海底之床,
快乐喧哗着,像青春一样俊美,
像青春一样壮健,又把我高举。
The Four Lakes of Madison
Four limpid lakes,—four Naiades
Or sylvan deities are these,
In flowing robes of azure dressed;
Four lovely handmaids, that uphold
Their shining mirrors, rimmed with gold,
To the fair city in the West.
By day the coursers of the sun
Drink of these waters as they run
Their swift diurnal round on high;
By night the constellations glow
Far down the hollow deeps below,
And glimmer in another sky.
Fair lakes, serene and full of light,
Fair town, arrayed in robes of white,
How visionary ye appear!
All like a floating landscape seems
In cloud-land or the land of dreams,
Bathed in a golden atmosphere!
麦迪逊城的四湖
宛如四位水神或林神,
穿着轻飘飘淡蓝衣裙,——
这是四个澄澈的湖沼;
宛如四个可爱的侍女,
把镶有金边的明镜高举,
向西方亮丽城池照耀。
白昼,太阳的骏马在碧霄
奔驰于每日循环的轨道,
常来啜饮这儿的湖水;
入夜,荧荧闪闪的繁星
映入明净邃远的湖心,
在水底天穹吐射幽辉。
秀媚的湖沼,恬静而清亮,
秀媚的城池,披缟素轻裳,
你们的神采是何等幻异!
恍如在缥缈的云乡梦境
浮游不定的奇观丽景,
浴着金光灿烂的大气。
Four by the Clock
Four by the clock! and yet not day;
But the great world rolls and wheels away,
With its cities on land, and its ships at sea,
Into the dawn that is to be!
Only the lamp in the anchored bark
Sends its glimmer across the dark,
And the heavy breathing of the sea
Is the only sound that comes to me.
四点钟
天还没有亮,刚刚四点钟,
大千世界已辘辘转动,
陆上的城池,海上的船舶,
都滚入冉冉欲来的曙色!
只有泊岸小舟的孤灯
把一缕微光送入晦冥,
大海沉缓粗重的呼吸
是向我传来的唯一声息。
The City and the Sea
The panting City cried to the Sea,
"I am faint with heat,—Oh breathe on me!"
And the Sea said, "Lo, I breathe! but my breath
To some will be life, to others death!"
As to Prometheus, bringing ease
In pain, come the Oceanides,
So to the City, hot with the flame
Of the pitiless sun, the east wind came.
It came from the heaving breast of the deep,
Silent as dreams are, and sudden as sleep.
Life-giving, death-giving, which will it be;
O breath of the merciful, merciless Sea?
城与海
城市喘咻咻,向大海呼吁:
“我热得发了昏,快向我吹气!”
大海说:“我吹,可是我气息
既能给予生,也能给予死!”
像普罗米修斯正在受苦,
海洋女神给他以安舒,
城市被无情烈日炙烤,
清爽的东风飒然来到。
它来自大海起伏的胸脯,
梦一般恬静,睡一般突兀。
多情又无情的大海气息!
你究竟给予生,还是给予死?
Decoration Day
Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest
On this Field of the Grounded Arms,
Where foes no more molest,
Nor sentry's shot alarms!
Ye have slept on the ground before,
And started to your feet
At the cannon's sudden roar,
Or the drum's redoubling beat.
But in this camp of Death
No sound your slumber breaks;
Here is no fevered breath,
No wound that bleeds and aches.
All is repose and peace,
Untrampled lies the sod;
The shouts of battle cease,
It is the truce of God!
Rest, comrades, rest and sleep!
The thoughts of men shall be
As sentinels to keep
Your rest from danger free.
Your silent tents of green
We deck with fragrant flowers;
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.
烈士纪念日
在这停息了战火的土地上,
同志们,睡吧,好好休息!
这里再没有敌人骚扰,
也没有哨兵枪声惊动你!
以前,你们曾睡在地上,
每当大炮突然间轰击,
或是鼓声洪亮地敲响,
你们立即警觉地跳起。
如今,在这死神的帐篷,
再没有嘈音干扰睡梦;
这里没有昏热的喘息,
也没有伤口流血疼痛。
这里是一片静穆祥和,
草地如茵,没有人踩过;
争战的喧嚣已化为沉寂,
这是上帝息止了兵戈!
愿你们好好休息,同志们,
愿你们好好休息和睡眠!
人们的思想会充当卫兵,
保护你们休息得安全。
在你们幽静的绿色帐顶,
让我们缀上朵朵香花;
你们承担了苦难牺牲,
我们以纪念作为回答。
A Fragment
Awake! arise! the hour is late!
Angels are knocking at thy door!
They are in haste and cannot wait,
And once departed come no more.
Awake! arise! the athlete's arm
Loses its strength by too much rest;
The fallow land, the untilled farm
Produces only weeds at best.
断片
醒来!起来!时辰已晚!
天使正把门扉叩!
他们匆忙不能等,
一旦离去不回头。
醒来!起来!健儿的身手
休息太多力气小;
荒土闲地未耕田,
顶多只能生野草。
Loss and Gain
When I compare
What I have lost with what I have gained,
What I have missed with what attained,
Little room do I find for pride.
I am aware
How many days have been idly spent;
How like an arrow the good intent
Has fallen short or been turned aside.
But who shall dare
To measure loss and gain in this wise?
Defeat may be victory in disguise;
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.
得失
当我对比
我所获得与我所失掉,
我所错过与我所达到,
发现没有什么可夸耀。
我已察觉
无端虚掷了多少时光;
美好的意愿就像一支箭,
半途落下了,或飞向一旁。
可是谁敢
用这种方式来衡量得失?
失败可能是变相的胜利,
最低潮就是高潮的开始。
The Bells of San Blas
What say the Bells of San Blas
To the ships that southward pass
From the harbor of Mazatlan?
To them it is nothing more
Than the sound of surf on the shore,—
Nothing more to master or man.
But to me, a dreamer of dreams,
To whom what is and what seems
Are often one and the same,—
The Bells of San Blas to me
Have a strange, wild melody,
And are something more than a name.
For bells are the voice of the church;
They have tones that touch and search
The hearts of young and old;
One sound to all, yet each
Lends a meaning to their speech,
And the meaning is manifold.
They are a voice of the Past,
Of an age that is fading fast,
Of a power austere and grand;
When the flag of Spain unfurled
Its folds o'er this western world,
And the Priest was lord of the land.
The chapel that once looked down
On the little seaport town
Has crumbled into the dust;
And on oaken beams below
The bells swing to and fro,
And are green with mould and rust.
"Is, then, the old faith dead,"
They say, "and in its stead
Is some new faith proclaimed,
That we are forced to remain
Naked to sun and rain,
Unsheltered and ashamed?
"Once in our tower aloof
We rang over wall and roof
Our warnings and our complaints;
And round about us there
The white doves filled the air,
Like the white souls of the saints.
"The saints! Ah, have they grown
Forgetful of their own?
Are they asleep, or dead,
That open to the sky
Their ruined Missions lie,
No longer tenanted?
"Oh, bring us back once more
The vanished days of yore,
When the world with faith was filled;
Bring back the fervid zeal,
The hearts of fire and steel,
The hands that believe and build.
"Then from our tower again
We will send over land and main
Our voices of command,
Like exiled kings who return
To their thrones, and the people learn
That the Priest is lord of the land!"
O Bells of San Blas, in vain
Ye call back the Past again!
The Past is deaf to your prayer!
Out of the shadows of night
The world rolls into light;
It is daybreak everywhere.
圣布拉斯的钟声
圣布拉斯的钟声鸣响,
向那些来自马萨特兰港,
南下的航船诉说些什么?
他们,不论船长或船员,
别的声音全都听不见,
只听见腾空拍岸的洪波。
而我,我这多梦的梦中人,
“是什么”、“像什么”也不会区分,
常常把两者混融糅合,——
从圣布拉斯的钟声里,我听到
一种古怪而凄苦的音调,
难以用一个名称来概括。
钟声乃是教堂的声音,
这样的乐曲触动和探寻
老老少少众人的心房;
同样的钟声,而听众各异,
各自阐释这声音的含义,
使它的含义纷繁多样。
这钟声原是往昔的音响,
属于那高贵威严的力量,
属于那倏忽衰谢的时代——
那时,在西方世界上空,
西班牙旌旗舒展飘动,
神父乃是大地的主宰。
多年前在这小小海港
凭高俯眺的一座教堂,
崩塌了,变成破瓦寒灰;
残存的几根橡木横梁,
吊着这些钟,来回晃荡,
锈痕斑驳,长满了绿霉。
“莫不是老信条已经废掉,”
它们说,“莫不是新兴的信条
已经定出,已经颁布,
才弄得我们茹苦含辛,
赤条条任凭日晒雨淋,
无遮无盖,蒙羞受辱?
“当年,在孤悬高耸的钟楼,
我们把警世钟声鸣奏,
俯临全城的墙垣屋顶;
那时,环绕在我们四旁,
是一群白鸽凌空飞翔,
宛如圣者洁白的魂灵。
“圣者!他们莫不是已经
把自己的权益忘了个干净?
莫不是已经睡熟或死去,
才听任他们传道所坍塌,
裸露在光天化日之下,
无人来访,无人来住?
“哦!请再次给我们送来
那已逝去的往昔年代——
那时节,信仰充盈于宇宙;
送来那种炽烈的热情,
那些如钢似火的心灵,
那些信神、创业的双手。
“到那时,从那高高的楼顶,
我们将再度发布出号令,
这声音传遍陆地和大海;
像蒙尘君主重返丹墀,
教各处臣民咸得闻知:
神父乃是大地的主宰!”
圣布拉斯的钟声!你白白
想要召回往昔的年代!
往昔听不见你的祷告;
从夜的沉沉暗影里出来,
世界滚入了一片光彩,
人间处处是曙光普照。
杨 德 豫 译
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