发布时间:2022-07-25 15:17:10来源:互联网
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TO AUTUMN 秋颂
by John Keats
(查良铮译)
SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
雾气洋溢、果实圆熟的秋,
你和成熟的太阳成为友伴;
你们密谋用累累的珠球,
缀满茅屋檐下的葡萄藤蔓;
使屋前的老树背负着苹果,
让熟味透进果实的心中,
使葫芦胀大,鼓起了榛子壳,
好塞进甜核;又为了蜜蜂
一次一次开放过迟的花朵,
使它们以为日子将永远暖和,
因为夏季早填满它们的粘巢。
Who hasth not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep.
Drowsed with the fumes of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
谁不经常看见你伴着谷仓?
在田野里也可以把你找到,
弥有时随意坐在打麦场上,
让发丝随着簸谷的风轻飘;
有时候,为罂粟花香所沉迷,
你倒卧在收割一半的田垄,
让镰刀歇在下一畦的花旁;
或者.像拾穗人越过小溪,
你昂首背着谷袋,投下倒影,
或者就在榨果架下坐几点钟,
你耐心地瞧着徐徐滴下的酒浆。
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,-
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river shallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
啊.春日的歌哪里去了?但不要
想这些吧,你也有你的音乐——
当波状的云把将逝的一天映照,
以胭红抹上残梗散碎的田野,
这时啊,河柳下的一群小飞虫
就同奏哀音,它们忽而飞高,
忽而下落,随着微风的起灭;
篱下的蟋蟀在歌唱,在园中
红胸的知更鸟就群起呼哨;
而群羊在山圈里高声默默咩叫;
丛飞的燕子在天空呢喃不歇。
Ode to Psyche 赛吉颂
O Goddess! Hear these tuneless numbers, wrung
女神呵!请听这些不成调的韵律——
By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear,
由倾心的执着和亲切的回忆所促成——
And pardon that thy secrets should be sung
请原谅,这诗句唱出了你的秘密,
Even into thine own soft-conched ear:
直诉向你那柔软的海螺状耳轮:
Surely I dreamt today, or did I see
无疑我今天曾梦见——我是否目睹
The winged Psyche with awakened eyes?
长着翅膀、睁着眼睛的赛吉?
I wandered in a forest thoughtlessly,
我在树林里无思无虑地漫步,
And, on the sudden, fainting with surprise,
突然,我竟惊奇得目眩神迷,
Saw two fair creatures, couched side by side
我见到两个美丽的精灵相依偎
In deepest grass, beneath the whispering roof
在深草丛里,上面有絮语的树叶
Of leaves and trembled blossoms, where there ran
和轻颤的鲜花荫庇,溪水流淌
A brooklet, scarce espied:
在其间,无人偷窥:
"Mid hushed, cool-rooted flowers, fragrant-eyed,
周围是宁静的、清凉的、芬芳的嫩蕊,
Blue, silver-white and budded Tyrian,
蓝色花、银色花,紫色的花苞待放,
They lay calm-breathing on the bedded grass;
他们躺卧在绿茵上,呼吸得安详;
Their arms embraced, and their pinions too;
他们的手臂拥抱,翅膀交叠;
Their lips touched not, but had not bade adieu,
他们的嘴唇没接触,也没告别,
As if disjoined by soft-handed slumber,
仿佛被睡眠的柔腕分开一时,
And ready still past kisses to outnumber
准备醒后再继续亲吻无数次
At tender eye-dawn of aurorean love:
在欢爱的黎明睁眼来到的时刻:
The winged boy I knew;
带翅的男孩我熟悉;
But who wast thou, O happy, happy dove?
可你是谁呀,幸福的、幸福的小鸽?
His Psyche true!
他的好赛吉!
O latest born and loveliest vision far
啊,出生在最后而秀美超群的形象
Of all Olympus" faded hierarchy!
来自奥林波斯山暗淡的神族!
Fairer than Phoebe"s sapphire-regioned star,
蓝宝石一般的福柏减却清芒,
Or Vesper, amorous glow-worm of the sky;
天边威斯佩多情的萤光比输;
Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none,
你比他们美,虽然你没有神庙,
Nor altar heaped with flowers;
没堆满供花的祭坛;
Nor virgin-choir to make delicious moan
也没童男女唱诗班等午夜来到
Upon the midnight hours:
便唱出哀婉的咏叹;
No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet
没声音,没诗琴,没风管,没香烟浓烈
From chain-swung censer teeming;
从金链悬挂的香炉播散;
No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat
没神龛,没圣林,没神谕,没先知狂热,
Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming.
嘴唇苍白,沉迷于梦幻。
O brightest! Though too late for antique vows,
啊,至美者!你虽没赶上古代的誓约,
Too, too late for the fond believing lyre,
更没听到善男信女的祝歌,
When holy were the haunted forest boughs,
可神灵出没的树林庄严圣洁,
Holy the air, the water and the fire;
空气、流水、火焰纯净谐和;
Yet even in these days so far retired
即使在那些远古的日子里,远离开
From happy pieties, thy lucent fans,
敬神的虔诚,你那发光的翅膀
Fluttering among the faint Olympians,
仍然在失色的诸神间振羽飞翔,
I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspired.
我两眼有幸见到了,我歌唱起来。
So let me be thy choir and make a moan
就让我做你的唱诗班吧,等午夜来到
Upon the midnight hours—
便唱出哀婉的咏叹!
Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet
做你的声音、诗琴、风管、香烟浓烈,
From swinged censer teeming;
从悬空摆动的香炉播散;
Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat
做你的神龛、圣林、神谕、先知狂热,
Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming.
嘴唇苍白,沉迷于梦幻。
Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane
是的,我要做你的祭司,在我心中
In some untrodden region of my mind,
未经践踏的地方为你建庙堂,
Where branched thoughts, new grown with pleasant pain,
有沉思如树枝长出,既快乐,又苦痛,
Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind:
代替了松树在风中沙沙作响:
Far, far around shall those dark-clustered trees
还有绿阴浓深的杂树大片
Fledge the wild-ridged mountains steep by steep;
覆盖着悬崖峭壁,野岭荒山。
And there by zephyrs, streams, and birds, and bees,
安卧苍苔的林仙在轻风、溪涧、
The moss-lain Dryads shall be lulled to sleep;
小鸟、蜜蜂的歌声里安然入眠;
And in the midst of this wide quietness
在这寂静的广阔领域的中央,
A rosy sanctuary will I dress
我要整修出一座玫瑰色的圣堂,
With the wreathed trellis of a working brain,
它将有花环形构架如思索的人脑,
With buds, and bells, and stars without a name,
点缀着花蕾、铃铛、无名的星斗
With all the gardener Fancy e"er could feign,
和“幻想”这园丁构思的一切奇妙,
Who breeding flowers will never breed the same:
雷同的花朵决不会出自他手:
And there shall be for thee all soft delight
将为你准备冥想能赢得的一切
That shadowy thought can win,
温馨柔和的愉悦欢快,
A bright torch, and a casement ope at night,
一支火炬,一扇窗敞开在深夜,
To let the warm Love in!
好让热情的爱神进来!
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