本帖最后由 雨荷风 于 2015-10-7 13:51 编辑
陳君傳改寫成的英文詩﹕
Mishap, the Test of Love
The sun was shining warm and bright,
And birds were singing gay and light.
The flowers in bloom, the trees in leaves,
And swallows back to their old eaves.
'Twas Spring again, charming and sweet,--
The season for lovers to meet.
A Sunday in a park in May,
When larks chanting a merry lay,
A young man walking arm in arm
With such a girl of greatest charm.
He whispered sweet words in her ears;
His jokes did make her laugh with tears.
"I say, my dearest Wen," said he,
"Would you t' a party go with me?"
"But when?" she asked, with eyes on Chen;
"Tonight, my dear." he said to Wen.
As they were sitting on a bench,
And he embraced the pretty wench.
So long a time they cooed like dove,
And took a solemn vow of love:
Till women had a beard on chin,
And elephants grew hairs on skin,
Till earth stopped move and stars died out,
Their love'd remain e'er true and stout.
The afterglow in sky now shone,
And twilight found them left alone.
So up they got, and went to gate,
For time would not for men await.
He strolled along with her in street,
And sometimes to some friends would greet.
"Now home for supper let us go."
She said, but he replied, "Oh, no.
If home to sup, we'll be too late;
It's impolite to keep them wait."
So then to restaurant they went,
And chops and soup for her he meant.
The East-Turtles abused and beat
Our hungry people where'er they meet.
The young for life would run away,
But for old men 'twas their last day.
A stream of blood in Nanking flowed
And floated up the slain on road.
No Yellow Dogs were seen today,
As to the restaurant went they.
But seldom nerves relaxed in fear
That mishap follow bitter tear,
Except when love was talked about,
And lovers had a dinner out.
He called her home for it by phone,
And back at table he sat alone,
For she to toilet for a while
And now approached with a smile.
He ordered pudding, chops and soup;
For himself steak, salad and soup.
They talked and sighed and talked while ate,
Of war, of woe, of servile date.
A Japanese song in the hall
Was sung, but none listened at all.
People ate with faces full of woe;
Each told his grief in voice so low.
A Japanese in uniform
Came in, as talk hot and wine warm.
And how he took a dish aft dish,
At length the last he ate was fish.
Instead of pay, "Bagayalo."
And what was more, a heavy blow.
The owner, out from counter, bowed;
But Dog is Dog; he trampled and roared
And boxed the owner's nose to bleed,
The blood dripping from it, indeed.
For life the poor man dared not stir,
And saw him out with bows and "Sir!"
When out, and on his back a stone,
He turned and uttered such a groan.
He found himself to face a crowd
With clenched fists and looks so proud.
He's awed and fled like a beat’n dog
And grunt’d yet as a dying hog.
People gazed within through window glass,
And scruples belonged to their such class.
They only sighed, in distress spoke
Of the event. One made a joke
On fleeing Yellow Dog and said,
" 'Tis not a pleasure to invade."
When up at last they got to go,
They took a taxi-car and so
In one-sixth hour they reached there.
Their advent caused glad eyes to stare;
When they were shown into the room,
They, then, received the warmest boom.
As introduction’s o'er, the ball
Began, and guests eighteen in all.
They danced the waltz and danced tango;
They danced and danced in twain and two.
At intervals of rest, some sang,
And through the room their voices rang.
"Encore!" cried all when a young maid
Had finished a serenade.
"Look, how we're making merry, oh,
Beneath the shade of Death!" said Joe,
While servants brought in plates of cake
With bread and bun, all of home-bake.
While drinking coffee Miss Wen told
Of the event, the poor man old;
Of people outside, how brave and bold,
They made the blood of Dog run cold;
And China's future and her hope
Relied on those as such a group.
'Twas midnight when the party's o'er.
They took their leave, and out of door
They saw a taxi driving slow;
They stopped the car and in they'd go
Then someone's seen by driver's side;
But as she's in, her face he eyed.
And aft some turns the car went now
Along the dark broad road and how
Was that it ran towards the Bund--
The wrong direction--they were stunn'd,
And asked the driver, got reply
As "Hold your tongue, or dead you'll lie."
Then at the Bund the car stopped short;
Chen's pushed out as quick as thought.
And then the car was driven on
And o'er the Garden Bridge and down
To the Xinya Hotel and then
It stopp’d, and she’s brought to the den.
She's taken to a room and there
Was left alone to her own care.
A Japanese in uniform
Then came and bore in ugly form.
He came to strip her naked,--oh, you,
My readers, must know what'd ensue.
She was a slave in this hotel;
Her body sullied, but to sell
Her soul she wouldn't, and oft with snub
Abused in this Officers' Club,
And sometimes whipped and boxed for fun,
And what to eat, she got a bun.
Each day she wept and thought of Chen,
"Does he still think of me, his Wen?"
It gave her courage living on;
Her sorrows deep, her face was wan.
She tried escape, once, twice and thrice,
But all in vain, in tearful sighs.
How could she live in hell of fire,
In torment and in dark so dire?
How could she any longer bear
The Brutes; and how could she the snare,
The cage, the hell, the prison break?
But little her power, no means she'd take.
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