《四》
安娜贝尔丽
埃德加·爱伦·坡(Edgar Allan Poe 1809—1849)美国诗人
点评
诗人追思亡妻弗吉尼亚的凄婉、浪漫之作。
很久很久以前，
在一个滨海的王国里，
住着一位众所周知的女孩，
名字就叫安娜贝尔丽。
女孩生来别无牵挂，
只愿与我相亲相爱如胶似漆。
我们两个都是孩子，
在这滨海的王国里，
我们的爱感天动地，
我和我的安娜贝尔丽，
六翼天使也艳羡不已。
风波因此而起，
在这滨海的王国里；
云端刮来一阵恶风，
冻僵了我美丽的安娜贝尔丽；
把她从我身边抢走，
她那些显赫的贵戚，
将她关进一方坟墓，
在这滨海的王国里。
天堂虽好难寻真爱，
天使对我们心存妒忌。
是的，不用怀疑，
风波因此而起，
夜里云端刮来一阵恶风，
冻僵了杀害了我的安娜贝尔丽。
我们的爱感天动地，
更聪明、更成熟的人也无法相比，
海里的妖魔鬼怪，
空中的天仙神祗，
不能让我们的灵魂分离，
美丽的安娜贝尔丽。
明月倾泻清辉，
我梦见美丽的安娜贝尔丽；
星光闪烁眼睛，
我想起美丽的安娜贝尔丽；
我睡在你的身边，
枕着夜晚的潮汐，
我的爱人，我的生命，
我的新娘，我的唯一，
伴着海浪拍打的坟茔，
陪着涛声环绕的墓地。
Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes! - that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling - my darling - my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
《五》
夜莺颂
约翰·济慈
点评
自幼父母双亡、体弱多病，短短26岁的人生一路坎坷。这是诗人濒临死亡的永生绝唱，面对凄凉的欢快高歌，身处困境的天籁之音。
如吞鸦片，如饮毒鸩，
我的心阵阵作疼；
顷刻，我的神智麻木、困顿，
如坠忘河，记忆丧失磬尽。
不是嫉妒你快乐的一生，
而是为你的快乐庆幸；
在山毛榉不尽的绿荫中，
你这轻轻展翅的精灵，
为了夏天放开歌喉，
多么优美动听！
啊，来一杯陈年佳酿，
让我把这窖藏的美酒痛饮！ 浸透百花与绿野的滋味，
饱含劲舞、恋歌与欢笑的热情！
啊，杯中盛满南国的甘醇，
还有真挚激荡的诗才灵性；
杯口旁，紫唇边，
珍珠般的泡沫跳腾；
我将痛饮此杯，目无世界，
随你在幽暗的丛林消失踪影：
远远消失，就此蒸发，
把密林外的世界忘却干净：
那里充满疲惫、燥热、焦虑，
痛苦的哀嚎相继不停；
那里瘫痪凄惨地摇动稀疏的白发，
苍白的青年骨瘦如柴，了结残生；
迟钝的眼光现露绝望，
思索带来烦恼，忧伤陪伴聪明；
美女的明眸光辉难以为继，
爱情恋意须臾夭折短命。
别了！别了！我要向你飞去，
乘着诗歌透明的翅膀飞升，
不用酒神的车辇和随从相送，
我纷乱的头脑和你如影随形！
夜色格外柔和，
月亮女王登上宝座驾临天庭，
周围有星星仙子簇拥，
可那里难觅光明；
唯有丝丝闪亮伴着微风，
吹过幽幽绿色与青苔曲径。
悬挂枝条的软香我无从辨认，
脚下是何种花朵也难以看清，
可是，温馨昏暗中我能猜出，
季节如何依时让园地香气纷呈：
青草、灌木，野果树，
白山楂和田园玫瑰芳菲娉婷，
叶丛中藏着易谢的紫罗兰，
麝香玫瑰早露身影，
这五月中旬的骄子饱蘸甘露淳酒， 引来夏夜的飞虫嗡嗡穿行。
黑暗里我侧耳倾听，
一次次对安详的死神涌动真情，
用深思的行行诗句轻柔地呼唤他的名字，
向长空吐出胸中的呼声；
此刻赴死显得最为壮丽，
夜半时分就此结束这人世的旅程；
而你如此振奋、欣喜，
一直滔滔不绝倾诉自己的心灵！
在你高亢的安魂曲中，
我失去知觉，化作黄土、草坪。
永生的鸟啊！你不是为了死亡降临世上，
一代一代，饥饿无法剥夺你的生命；
这逝去的夜里我欣赏的歌喉，
古代的帝王、小丑也曾聆听：
或许，拾穗度日的路得被这歌喉打动，
站在异乡的田野悲痛不禁，
思乡的泪水满脸纵横；
常常，魔法禁锢的古堡被这啭唱感动，
凄凉的仙子推开窗棂，
遥望波涛险恶的大海期盼救星。
凄凉！这个字眼如一声洪钟，
把我从你身边拉回自我的孓然孤零！
别了！自欺欺人的幻象难得长久，
那是贯常愚弄理智的小小妖精。
别了！别了！你那哀婉的圣歌，
越过草地山坡，伴着溪流沉静，
飘散、幻化，
在峡谷深深峡谷遁迹消形：
是清晰的幻象还是朦胧的梦境？
音乐逝去，我是睡还是醒？
Ode to a Nightingale
John Keats
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness, -
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain -
To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: - Do I wake or sleep?
来自圈子: 译诗 |
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发表于 2015-11-19 09:16:16