朗费罗诗9首

Dedication

As one who, walking in the twilight gloom,

Hears round about him voices as it darkens,

And seeing not the forms from which they come,

Pauses from time to time, and turns and hearkens;

So walking here in twilight, O my friends!

I hear your voices, softened by the distance,

And pause, and turn to listen, as each sends

His words of friendship, comfort, and assistance.

If any thought of mine, or sung or told,

Has ever given delight or consolation,

Ye have repaid me back a thousand-fold,

By every friendly sign and salutation.

Thanks for the sympathies that ye have shown!

Thanks for each kindly word, each silent token,

That teaches me, when seeming most alone,

Friends are around us, though no word be spoken.

Kind messages, that pass from land to land;

Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history,

In which we feel the pressure of a hand,—

One touch of fire,—and all the rest is mystery!

The pleasant books, that silently among

Our household treasures take familiar places,

And are to us as if a living tongue

Spake from the printed leaves or pictured faces!

Perhaps on earth I never shall behold,

With eye of sense, your outward form and semblance;

Therefore to me ye never will grow old,

But live forever young in my remembrance!

Never grow old, nor change, nor pass away!

Your gentle voices will flow on forever,

When life grows bare and tarnished with decay,

As through a leafless landscape flows a river.

Not chance of birth or place has made us friends,

Being oftentimes of different tongues and nations,

But the endeavor for the selfsame ends,

With the same hopes, and fears, and aspirations.

Therefore I hope to join your seaside walk,

Saddened, and mostly silent, with emotion;

Not interrupting with intrusive talk

The grand, majestic symphonies of ocean.

Therefore I hope, as no unwelcome guest,

At your warm fireside, when the lamps are lighted,

To have my place reserved among the rest,

Nor stand as one unsought and uninvited!

我停步转身，谛听这传来的细语，

声音里充满友情、慰藉和赞助。

倘若我唱出或说出的什么思想

也曾经给予你们安舒或喜悦，

你们已经用友爱的表示和祝愿

向我偿付了不下千倍的酬谢。

感谢你们对我的深情关怀，

温和的话语，沉默而亲切的姿态；

这些告诉我：哪怕最孤寂的时辰，

朋友们尽管无言，也与我同在。

慈惠的音讯，从一处传到一处，

慈惠的信札，揭示了内心经历，

其中，能感到一个手掌的按抚，——

火热的一触，——其余全是奥秘！

我们保存的种种家当中间，

心爱的书册，静静留在老地方，

那些印字的纸页、画成的脸孔，

老是跟我们交谈，像活人一样！

也许今生今世我再也不能

用肉眼看到你们的容颜笑貌；

你们在我心目中再不会衰老，

在我记忆里永远青春年少！

永远别衰老，别变化，也别消退！

当日子过得越来越凄凉阴晦，

你们温婉的语声会长流不息，

像流过枯寂荒原的清清河水。

我们有不同的国籍，用不同的语言，

我们的友谊，与出身、地域无缘；

这友谊来自为共同目标的奋斗，

来自共同的希望、忧虑和志愿。

为此，我盼望陪你们在海边漫步，

抑郁，沉默，而又深情蕴结；

谁也不用唐突的言谈去打扰

浩浩沧溟那威严壮伟的音乐。

当灯火点亮，在你们温暖的炉边，

但愿我不是惹人嫌厌的来客，

别像那不请自来者枯立一旁，

而能够找到给我留下的末座！

The Secret of the Sea

Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me

As I gaze upon the sea!

All the old romantic legends,

All my dreams, come back to me.

Sails of silk and ropes of sandal,

Such as gleam in ancient lore;

And the singing of the sailors,

And the answer from the shore!

Most of all, the Spanish ballad

Haunts me oft, and tarries long,

Of the noble Count Arnaldos

And the sailor's mystic song.

Like the long waves on a sea-beach,

Where the sand as silver shines,

With a soft, monotonous cadence,

Flow its unrhymed lyric lines;—

Telling how the Count Arnaldos,

With his hawk upon his hand,

Saw a fair and stately galley,

Steering onward to the land;—

How he heard the ancient helmsman

Chant a song so wild and clear,

That the sailing sea-bird slowly

Poised upon the mast to hear,

Till his soul was full of longing,

And he cried, with impulse strong,—

"Helmsman! for the love of heaven,

Teach me, too, that wondrous song!"

"Wouldst thou,"—so the helmsman answered,

"Learn the secret of the sea?

Only those who brave its dangers

Comprehend its mystery!"

In each sail that skims the horizon,

In each landward-blowing breeze,

I behold that stately galley,

Hear those mournful melodies;

Till my soul is full of longing

For the secret of the sea,

And the heart of the great ocean

Sends a thrilling pulse through me.

舟子唱出的清越歌声，

岸上传来的神秘答和！

有一首西班牙古老民谣

总在我心头萦回不去：

它述说高贵的阿纳多伯爵

怎样迷上了船夫的歌曲。

它以柔和的单调节奏

倾泻无韵的抒情诗行，

有如银沙闪烁的海滨

起伏吟啸的层层波浪；

它述说高贵的阿纳多伯爵

手上擎着他那只猎鹰，

瞧见一艘壮丽的大船

扬帆鼓浪向陆地航行；

他听到船上年老的艄公

唱出凄厉而嘹亮的歌声，

引得振翅飞翔的海鸟

也缓缓落在桅杆上静听；

直到他心灵充满了渴望，

他以热切的激情喊出：

“艄公呵！看在天国分上，

教会我这首奇妙歌曲！”

艄公回答：“你愿不愿意

来学习、来探索海的奥秘？

你只有不怕它的惊险，

才能够领略它的神奇！”

从每片掠过地平线的帆篷，

从每阵吹向陆地的和风，

我都看见那壮丽的大船，

我都听到那怆痛的歌声。

直到我的心灵也同样

对海的奥秘充满了渴望，

汹涌的激情流布我周身，

它来自万顷沧溟的心脏。

Twilight

The twilight is sad and cloudy,

The wind blows wild and free,

And like the wings of sea-birds

Flash the white caps of the sea.

But in the fisherman's cottage

There shines a ruddier light,

And a little face at the window

Peers out into the night.

Close, close it is pressed to the window,

As if those childish eyes

Were looking into the darkness

To see some form arise.

And a woman's waving shadow

Is passing to and fro,

Now rising to the ceiling,

Now bowing and bending low.

What tale do the roaring ocean,

And the night-wind, bleak and wild,

As they beat at the crazy casement,

Tell to that little child?

And why do the roaring ocean,

And the night-wind, wild and bleak,

As they beat at the heart of the mother,

Drive the color from her cheek?

透出一点红红的亮光；

窗里一张小小的脸儿

正向窗外的夜色凝望。

小脸儿紧紧贴在窗前，

他那孩子气十足的两眼

仿佛要把那黑暗看穿，

要看到什么人影出现。

一个女人晃动的身形

来来回回在屋里急走；

一会儿看见她高高站起，

一会儿她又弯腰低头。

哦！这汹汹咆哮的大海，

这黑夜寒风刮得好厉害，

当它们扑打那残破的窗棂，

把什么故事告诉了那小孩？

哦！这汹汹咆哮的大海，

这黑夜寒风刮得好厉害，

当它们扑打那母亲的心灵，

她脸色为什么变成惨白？

The Lighthouse

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,

And on its outer point, some miles away,

The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,

A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.

Even at this distance I can see the tides,

Upheaving, break unheard along its base,

A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides

In the white lip and tremor of the face.

And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,

Through the deep purple of the twilight air,

Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light

With strange, unearthly splendor in the glare!

Not one alone; from each projecting cape

And perilous reef along the ocean's verge,

Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,

Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.

Like the great giant Christopher it stands

Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,

Wading far out among the rocks and sands,

The night-o'ertaken mariner to save.

And the great ships sail outward and return,

Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,

And ever joyful, as they see it burn,

They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.

They come forth from the darkness, and their sails

Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,

And eager faces, as the light unveils,

Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze.

The mariner remembers when a child,

On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink;

And when, returning from adventures wild,

He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink.

Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same

Year after year, through all the silent night

Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,

Shines on that inextinguishable light!

It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp

The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace;

It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,

And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece.

The startled waves leap over it; the storm

Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,

And steadily against its solid form

Press the great shoulders of the hurricane.

The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din

Of wings and winds and solitary cries,

Blinded and maddened by the light within,

Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.

A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,

Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove,

It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,

But hails the mariner with words of love.

"Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships!

And with your floating bridge the ocean span;

Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse.

Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!"

恰似无言的怒气，升腾又消退

在那苍白的唇边，痉挛的脸上。

当暝色渐深渐浓，看！好亮呵，

透过天边暗紫的残霞暮霭，

灯塔蓦然吐射出灿灿明辉，

闪耀着尘世罕见的夺目光彩！

不止它一个；每一处突出的岬角，

海岸近旁每一处险要的岩礁，

都有一尊朦胧的巨影亮起来，

高举明灯俯视不息的波涛。

它就像巨人克利斯朵夫一般， 

风暴中，站在滔天巨浪的边沿，

徒步远涉，越过石块和沙砾，

去拯救昏冥黑夜里遇险的船员。

汹涌狂澜上颠簸俯仰的航船，

每当望见它亮了，都不胜喜悦，

在出航返航途中，默默无言地

向它招呼，表示欢迎和惜别。

航船从黑暗里出来，一片片帆篷

只在它的亮光下闪露了片刻，

那亮光照见一张张焦灼的脸庞

向它凝视着，又向黑暗中隐没。

水手望着它，回忆起他的童年，

第一次远航，遥瞩它消失不见；

经历了艰危惊险从异域归来，

又见它赫然浮现在远处天边。

坚定，从容沉着，巍然不动，

一年年，度过了多少寂寂长夜，

它那炽烈的光辉永不消损，

它那高烧的炬火永不熄灭！

它看见滚滚洋流以和平之吻 

把卵石沙砾推拥到它的怀抱；

它看见狂风攥紧它，将它顶起，

拔举它，摇撼它，仿佛它软若羊毛。

惊涛骇浪从它身躯上跃过，

风暴抽打它，把急雨当作钢鞭，

紧紧压住它坚牢不拔的胴体的

是那十二级飓风壮硕的双肩。

海鸟绕着它旋转，风声，振翅声，

凄寂的鸣声，响成了嘈杂一片，

亮光闪花了眼睛，发了狂似的

向火光冲去，葬身于一团烈焰。

像新的普罗米修斯，绑在巉岩上，

手里仍然牢执着约夫的火炬， 

不理会四外的喧嚣、周遭的冲击，

向水手说出安详慈爱的话语。

它说：“继续航行吧，壮丽的船队！

架起你们跨越大海的桥身； 

由我守护这亮光，不让它消蚀，

由你们带着人去靠近人！”

Travels by the Fireside

The ceaseless rain is falling fast,

And yonder gilded vane,

Immovable for three days past,

Points to the misty main.

It drives me in upon myself

And to the fireside gleams,

To pleasant books that crowd my shelf,

And still more pleasant dreams.

I read whatever bards have sung

Of lands beyond the sea,

And the bright days when I was young

Come thronging back to me.

In fancy I can hear again

The Alpine torrent's roar,

The mule-bells on the hills of Spain,

The sea at Elsinore.

I see the convent's gleaming wall

Rise from its groves of pine,

And towers of old cathedrals tall,

And castles by the Rhine.

I journey on by park and spire,

Beneath centennial trees,

Through fields with poppies all on fire,

And gleams of distant seas.

I fear no more the dust and heat,

No more I feel fatigue,

While journeying with another's feet

O'er many a lengthening league.

Let others traverse sea and land,

And toil through various climes,

I turn the world round with my hand

Reading these poets' rhymes.

From them I learn whatever lies

Beneath each changing zone,

And see, when looking with their eyes,

Better than with mine own.

和那更为可爱的梦乡。

我读着不拘哪位诗人

吟咏海外疆域的诗篇，

年轻时候的灿烂岁月

便缤纷稠叠，回到心间。 

幻觉中，我又仿佛听到

阿尔卑斯山急流咆哮，

西班牙山头清脆的骡铃，

埃西诺尔的海潮呼啸。 

又仿佛望见修道院墙垣

闪现在一片松树林间，

钟楼耸出大教堂上空，

城堡峙立于莱茵河畔。

我来到公园和尖塔旁边，

在百年老树浓荫下游逛，

经过红花似火的罂粟田，

经过远海闪烁的微光。

我再也不怕尘土炎威，

再也不觉得烦劳疲惫，

我用别人的腿脚远游，

悠然走过了千山万水。

让别人踏遍川原海岳，

辛勤跋涉于地北天南；

我读着这些诗人的诗篇，

世界就在我手中旋转。

靠着他们，我才熟识了

一处处异域遐方的情景，

我用他们的眼睛观看，

比用自己的看得更清。

Cadenabbia

Lake of Como

No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks

The silence of the summer day,

As by the loveliest of all lakes

I while the idle hours away.

I pace the leafy colonnade,

Where level branches of the plane

Above me weave a roof of shade

Impervious to the sun and rain.

At times a sudden rush of air

Flutters the lazy leaves o'erhead,

And gleams of sunshine toss and flare

Like torches down the path I tread.

By Somariva's garden gate

I make the marble stairs my seat,

And hear the water, as I wait,

Lapping the steps beneath my feet.

The undulation sinks and swells

Along the stony parapets,

And far away the floating bells

Tinkle upon the fisher's nets.

Silent and slow, by tower and town

The freighted barges come and go,

Their pendent shadows gliding down

By town and tower submerged below.

The hills sweep upward from the shore,

With villas scattered one by one

Upon their wooded spurs, and lower

Bellaggio blazing in the sun.

And dimly seen, a tangled mass

Of walls and woods, of light and shade,

Stands, beckoning up the Stelvio Pass,

Varenna with its white cascade.

I ask myself, Is this a dream?

Will it all vanish into air?

Is there a land of such supreme

And perfect beauty anywhere?

Sweet vision! Do not fade away:

Linger, until my heart shall take

Into itself the summer day,

And all the beauty of the lake;

Linger, until upon my brain

Is stamped an image of the scene;

Then fade into the air again,

And be as if thou hadst not been.

不时有清风飒然而降，

拂动树梢慵懒的绿叶；

缕缕阳光洒在小路上，

像爝火一般闪烁摇曳。

索玛利瓦花园的门边，

我在大理石台阶上坐下；

那儿，我听见水花飞溅，

把脚下石级轻轻拍打。

白石栏杆下边的波浪，

一会儿低落，一会儿汹涌；

远处，水面漂浮的铃铛

在渔夫网上叮  响动。

傍着那楼台亭榭，有游艇

静静地，缓缓地，划去划来；

游艇的影子也悄悄滑动，

傍着水里的亭榭楼台。

山峦从湖岸向上延展，

岩坡石岭，林木繁茂，

一座座别墅散布其间；

阳光下，贝拉玖晶莹闪耀。 

隐约望得见：墙垣和树木，

亮光和阴影，聚结成团——

那是瓦伦纳，喷溅着瀑布，

仿佛在招唤斯泰沃雄关。 

我问我自己：莫非是梦境？

会不会化作飘风逝水？

人世间果真有这种胜境？

有这种登峰造极的完美？

美妙的奇观！留下吧，莫消失：

且等我把这夏日的佳景，

把这湖光的百态千姿，

一一摄取，藏入心灵。

留下吧，等一等，等这些景物

把图像刻入我脑海心田；

到那时，你再化为虚无，

就像从来也不曾出现。

杨 德 豫 译

其次，由于没有正确地“以意逆志”所导致的“虚假的具体化”。孟子在他最富于原创性的诗歌批评理论——“以意逆志”和“知人论世”——中，提出：“故说诗者，不以文害辞，不以辞害志，以意逆志，是为得之。”《孟子·万章上》“以意逆志”，涉及读者—阅读—作者之间的关系，它要求对作品要有整体的理解，不要断章取义。在阅读中，读者要以自己对作品的理解去接近、推求诗人的原意，具体的方法是“逆”，意为推求，即用读者的体会（“意”）来推求作者之“志”。孟子其实已经触及现代阐释学的作者与读者的“视界融合”的问题。因此，如果不以“以意逆志”的方法来解读作品，就是孟子意义上的“误读”，他特别批评咸丘蒙误读《诗经》，没有做到“以意逆志”“知人论世”。正如马克思所言，“对于没有音乐感的耳朵，最美的音乐也毫无意义”，因为音乐对它来说“不是对象”， 可见，读者本身的审美准备也是极其重要的，否则就会造成误解甚至完全不理解。

2.阅读即误读

另一种截然相反的观点认为，所有解读都不算误读。

在《挑战》一文中的“文本解读”中，我们已经由现象学的“前理解”“成见”认识到，在某种意义上，所有理解都是“误读”“误解”，因为读者永远找不到“原意”。正如海德格尔在《存在与时间》中所说：“任何解释工作之初都必然带有这种先入之见，它作为随着解释就已经‘设定了的’东西是先行给定的。”英伽登用胡塞尔现象学的“还原”方法，将作品究竟是对外在世界的反映还是对主观世界的表现这些问题“悬搁”起来，对呈现意识的“本质直观”中的艺术作品本体进行描述，强调艺术作品是一种“纯意向性客体”（intentional object）。

在接受美学这里，“原意”只是一种幻想和信念，任何新的理解产生之前就已经存在着一种理解，即“偏见”，也叫“前理解”，它是由语言中所包容的历史文化、人类经验以及个人经验、记忆、动机、意象等多方面的因素构成的，这是人们理解历史或作品的始点。从表层上看，人们是在用不同的方式、从不同的角度解释历史或作品，而实际上潜伏于人们心理底层的是人们自我理解的要求，理解作品的活动由每个人自我理解的欲求所驱使。

（1）读者对文本的“空白”和“未定点”的“具体化”，为各种不同的解读提供了可能性和合理性。

文本的“空白”和“不定点”，以及作者在创作时对“潜在的读者”的深意寄托，在刘勰那里是“文外之重旨”，钟嵘则说“文已尽而意有余”，司空图谓之“韵外之致”“味外之旨”，严羽称谓为“言有尽而意无穷”，等等，这些都为读者提供了一个广阔的审美想象空间，为读者的各种解释提供了条件。金圣叹在《读第六才子书西厢记之二》中提出：“文者见之谓之文，淫者见之谓之淫。”同一部作品，文者见文，淫者见淫，这些都触及现代接受美学的基本旨趣。清代谭献也认识到读者的“合理误读”现象，他精辟地概括说：“作者之用心未必然，而读者之用心何必不然。”（《复堂词录序》）显然，谭献等人都承认读者在阅读中超越作者及作品的现象的合理性，这实际上是承认和肯定读者再创造的权利。

（2）读者的个体差异性必然导致各种各样的解读，不存在“正”“误”之别。正如姚斯在《挑战》中所言，期待视野是在三个方面得以体现的：A.接受者旧有的阅读经验，即对各种文学形式、风格、技巧的认识；B.接受者所处的历史社会环境以及由此而决定的价值观、审美观和思想、道德、行为规范；C.接受者自身的政治经济地位、受教育水平、生活经历、艺术欣赏水平和素质。

每个读者基于这些方面的不同，面对同一文本时自然会出现迥异其趣的理解。陈寅恪也认为，“著者有意无意之间，往往依其自身所遭际之时代，所处之环境，所熏染之学说，以推测解释古人之意志。由此之故，今日谈古代之哲学者，大抵即谈其今日自身之哲学者也”。（《金明馆丛稿二编》）

刘辰翁在《题刘玉田选杜诗》说：“观诗各随所得，别自有用”，这个观点与钟惺极为相似。接受主体“各以其情”去“遇”作品。在这一点上，袁枚的观点跟钟惺也很接近，他说：“作诗者以诗传，说诗者以说传。传者传其说之是，而不必尽合于作者也。”（《成绵庄诗说序》）同一个作品，“作者用一致之思”，去导致“读者各以情自得”。例如，《诗经》中的《关雎》一诗，《毛诗序》读到的是对“后妃之德”的褒扬；齐、鲁、韩三家却读出了对“康王晏朝”的讽喻规劝；今天的读者读到的却是一个爱情故事。薛雪在《一瓢诗话》说古代解读杜甫诗的盛况，“解之者不下数百家”，而“兵家读之为兵，道家读之为道，治天下国家者读之为政，无往不可”。刘勰也看到，由于读者“才能识略”有“庸俊”“识鉴”有精粗，会出现“各照隅隙，鲜观衢路”，不同层次的人也会有不同的理解，“才高者菀其鸿裁，中巧者猎其艳辞，吟讽者衔其山川，童蒙者拾其香草”（《文心雕龙》），这与韦勒克、沃伦在《文学理论》中谈到的西方解读莎士比亚的问题很相似，“头脑简单的人可以看到情节，较有思想的人可以看到性格和性格冲突，文学知识较丰富的人看到词语的表达方法，对音乐敏感的人可以看到节奏，那些具有更高的理解力和敏感性的听众则可以发现某种逐渐揭示出来的内含意义” 。

在这个问题上，法国后现代思想家罗兰·巴特最为激进，他认为根本不存在误读，因为“作者已死”，富于主体性的读者可以自由地解读作品。在写于1973年的《作者之死》中，巴特宣判了作者的死刑——读者的诞生，须以“作者之死”为代价。承认作者，就是窒息文本；作品不过是作家中心论的愚蠢产物，离开读者的作品绝不是钟惺所称谓的“活物”，而是一个牛顿式的封闭系统。作品瓦解，面对读者的“无中心文本”才算诞生，读者可自行其是，所以，不存在误读。在巴特那里，文本就像洋葱头，除去层层包裹之后，“一无所有”。“耶鲁四人帮”中的保罗·德·曼也于1972年的《阅读的讽喻》中应和巴特的观点，指出文学的生命正在于“误读与误解的可能”，否则文学没有生命和活力可言。从曼的观点，我们似乎听到了明代钟惺的文学为“活物”之说的回声。

推荐阅读：

蓂华雕上月 柳色蔼春池 日斜归戚里 连骑勒金羁