本帖最后由 戴盛莲 于 2015-12-3 09:24 编辑
悲凉译诗
《一》
夜莺
罗伯特·布里奇斯（Robert Bridges，1844–1930年），英国诗人。
点评
不见其影只闻其声的夜莺，与百鸟失伴，与白天隔离，神秘凄婉地唱出诗人的心声。
你一定来自美丽的群山，
溪水也是波光闪闪，
山谷中挂满垒垒果实，
你在那里把这首歌谣习练：
丛林有如星光灿烂，
百花四季争奇斗妍；
空气令人心旷神怡，
但愿我能前往徘徊流涟！
可是，群山早已荒芜，
溪水也全都枯干；
这首歌只是胸中的渴求，
它让我受伤的心梦绕魂牵；
深切的希望破灭，
悠悠的歌声暗淡；
高超的技艺唱不响临终的悲歌，
婉转的歌喉发不出长长的哀叹。
孤独，响亮，我们倾诉夜半的秘密，
倾听的人们痴迷眷恋；
当夜幕徐徐拉开，
五月万树吐绿，草地芳香溢满；
当百鸟齐鸣迎接曙光，
我就开始沉入梦幻。
Nightingales
Beautiful must be the mountains whence ye come,
And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams,wherefrom
Ye learn your song:
Where are those starry woods? O might I wander there,
Among the flowers, which in that heavenly air
Bloom the year long!
Nay, barren are those mountains and spent the streams:
Our song is the voice of desire, that haunts our dreams,
A throe of the heart,
Whose pining visions dim, forbidden hopes profound,
No dying cadence nor long sigh can sound,
For all our art.
Alone, aloud in the raptured ear of men
We pour our dark nocturnal secret; and then,
As night is withdrawn
From these sweet-springing meads and bursting boughs of May,
Dream, while the innumerable choir of day
Welcome the dawn.
《二》
最后的叶片
奧利弗·溫德尔·霍姆斯(Oliver Wendell Holmes 1809-1894)美国诗人
点评
年轻时俊美酷毙，最为善良，老来憔悴虚弱，流浪街头。犹如挂在枝头最后的叶片，实在凄凉。
他曾从门前经过，
我在一旁观望；
如今，石板路又哒哒作响，
他蹒跚走来，
手里拄着拐杖。
人们说他当时年轻力壮，
时光的剪刀虽有锐利锋芒，
尚未削去他的青春模样；
周围的人们有口皆碑，
满城数他最为善良。
如今，他却在街头流浪，
看着别人的面孔，憔悴忧伤；
虚弱的脑袋，不断摇晃，
似乎在说；
“他们已不在世上”
他曾热吻过的姑娘，
就在这墓中安葬；
一块生苔的石碑，立在墓旁，
刻着他所爱慕的芳名，
岁月悠长。
我年迈的祖母久已过世，
话音还在耳边回荡；
说他长着高高的鼻梁，
说他的面颊像一朵玫瑰，
在雪中绽放。
可是现在，
他的鼻子干瘪瘦长，
贴近下巴像纤细的棍棒；
弯腰驼背，
沙哑的笑声带着不尽的凄凉。
坐着笑看他的模样，
一种负罪的感觉在我心底隐藏；
可那破旧的尖顶小帽，
还有马裤，所有的衣装，
实在是奇形怪状！
假如我的生命十分久长，
能够成为最后的叶片挂在春天的树上，
让人们冲着我悬挂的残枝发笑吧，
就像我现在这样，
尽管那残枝久已被人们淡忘！
The Last Leaf
I saw him once before,
As he passed by the door,
And again
The pavement stones resound,
As he totters o'er the ground
With his cane.
They say that in his prime,
Ere the pruning-knife of Time
Cut him down,
Not a better man was found
By the Crier on his round
Through the town.
But now he walks the streets,
And he looks at all he meets
Sad and wan,
And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
"They are gone!"
The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has prest
In their bloom,
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.
My grandmamma has said--
Poor old lady, she is dead
Long ago--
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow;
But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff,
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!
And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.
《三》
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.
来自圈子: 译诗 |
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发表于 2015-11-13 15:03:38