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托马斯·斯特恩斯·艾略特诗选
吕志鲁译
托马斯·斯特恩斯·艾略特(Thomas Stearns Eilot 1888-1965)英国诗人
(一)
题献
你让我的欢乐狂奔疾驰,
在我们苏醒时激荡我的感知,
你的节奏掌控我们睡梦的休憩,
我们是一对爱人,同呼吸共生死。
我俩的体气相混难分彼此,
无需开口就想着一样的心思,
不用含意却絮叨相同的言词。
不畏严冬寒风的鞭笞,
何惧酷暑骄阳的烤炙,
我们共有花园,玫瑰绽放永生永世。
这题献是为别人阅读的文字,
也是公开对你诉说的隐私。
A Dedication to My Wife
To whom I owe the leaping delight
That quickens my senses in our wakingtime
And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime,
the breathing in unison.
Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other
Who think the same thoughts without need of speech,
And babble the same speech without need of meaning...
No peevish winter wind shall chill
No sullen tropic sun shall wither
The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only
But this dedication is for others to read:
These are private words addressed to you in public.
(二)
空心人
我们是空心人,
人形里面空空,
互相依靠,
天哪,满脑由稻草填充!
我们嗓音干燥,
就像枯草遇风,
我们低声交谈,
死寂空洞,
像老鼠爬过破碎的玻璃,
在地窖里发出干瘪的响声。
有体却无形,有色却无影,
缺乏力量的瘫痪,毫无意义的举动。
穿透死亡的帷幕,
人们目光炯炯,
如果真的还能记得我们,
那我们与堕落暴虐的灵魂不同,
我们虽有人形,
邪恶不在其中。
The Hollow Men
Thomas Stearns Eilot
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
来自圈子: 译诗 |