|
吕志鲁译
富商强霸海洋,
财主独占土地,
高利贷金银入库,
为何我们只剩下一贫如洗?
机器轰鸣飞转,
为主人展示技艺;
刀枪寒光闪闪,
维护老板既得利益,
劳动者流尽血汗,
养活那些寄生的仇敌;
军营、教会、法庭,
处处都为富家子弟;
他们学文习武,讲究艺术,
为何我们只剩下一贫如洗?
我们期望荒谬归于失败,
我们相信公道必将胜利;
为了明天马上行动起来,
众志成城,鼓起勇气!
我们的血汗供他们讲究学问,
我们的辛劳让他们享受安逸;
然而我却得到如此回报:
愚昧、疾苦、少食缺衣!
除了劳作还是劳作,
回家来饥肠辘辘,满心悲戚;
他们的攫取不休不止,
我们的付出无边无际!
享受清闲,寻欢作乐,
全都是富人的专利,
还有妻子欢笑,儿女耍戏,
为何我们只剩下一贫如洗?
我们期望荒谬归于失败,
我们相信公道必将胜利;
为了明天马上行动起来,
众志成城,鼓起勇气!
他们的支付是给乞丐的施舍,
我们的报酬是最吝啬的救济,
可能还有牢狱和坟场,
然后把我们彻底抛弃;
面对夭折的爱子,
眼看心碎的娇妻,
我们深陷的眼窝更加深陷,
清癯的面颊留下道道痕迹;
凄凉的景象随处可见,
悲惨的遭遇无法逃离;
看着手上的工薪,
人人都要发出质疑:
凭什么富人拿走整个世界,
为何我们只剩下一贫如洗?
我们期望荒谬归于失败,
我们相信公道必将胜利;
为了明天马上行动起来,
众志成城,鼓起勇气!
面对邪恶我们忍气吞声,
把冤屈深深藏在心底,
他们认为我们猪一般蠢笨,
他们觉得我们死一样沉寂;
号角终将响遍世界,
我们总会重新奋起!
爆发千军万马的洪流,
我们将所向无敌;
摧毁玻璃似的宫殿,
冲垮铜铁般的墙壁,
把死亡的厄运赶走,
我们不再掩面悲泣;
走出破屋,卷起狂潮,
雄壮的口号震天动地:
我们期望荒谬归于失败,
我们相信公道必将胜利;
为了明天马上行动起来,
众志成城,鼓起勇气!
Song of the Wage-Slave
Ernest Jones
The land it is the land-lords,
The traders' is the sea,
The ore the usurers' coffers fills,
But what remains for me?
The engine whirls for master's craft,
The steel shines to defend,
With labors' arms, what labor raised,
For labor's foes to spend;
The camp, the pulpit, and the law,
For rich men's sons are free;
Theirs, theirs, are learning, art and arms;
But what remains for me?
The coming hope, the future day,
When wrong to right shall bow,
And hearts that have the courage, man,
To make that future now.
I pay for all their learning,
I toil for all their ease;
The render back in coin for coin,
Want, ignorance, disease--
Toil--toil--and then, a cheerless home,
Where hungry passions cross;
Eternal gain to them, that give
To me eternal loss!
The hour of leisure, happiness,
The rich alone may see;
The playful child, the smiling wife--
But what remains for me?
The coming hope, the future day,
When wrong to right shall bow,
And hearts that have the courage, man,
To make that future now.
They render back, those rich men,
A pauper's niggard fee
Mayhap a prisonùthen a grave,
And then they're quits with me;
But not a fond wife's heart that breaks--
A poor man's child that dies,
We score not on our hollow cheeks
And in our sunken eyes,
We read it thereùwhere'er we meet,
And as the sum we see,
Each asks, "The rich have got the earth,
And what remains for me?"
The coming hope, the future day,
When wrong to right shall bow,
And hearts that have the courage, man,
To make that future now.
We bear the wrong in silence,
We store it in our brain;
They think us dull, they think us dead;
But we shall rise again;
A trumpet through the lands will ring;
A heaving through the mass;
A trampling through their palaces,
Until they break like glass;
We'll cease to weep by cherished graves,
From lonely homes will flee,
And still as rolls our million march,
Its watchword brave shall be:--
The coming hope, the future day,
When wrong to right shall bow,
And hearts that have the courage, man,
To make that future now.
|Archiver|手机版|小黑屋|中诗网 ( 京ICP备:12024093号-1|京公网安备 11010502045403号 )
GMT+8, 2024-6-3 17:18 , Processed in 0.069886 second(s), 17 queries , Gzip On.
Powered by Discuz! X3.5
© 2001-2024 Discuz! Team.