夜莺颂翻译

夜莺颂翻译 O, for a draught of vintage! That John Keats hath been ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, My heart aches, and a drowsy Tasting of Flora and the country numbness pains green, My sense, as though of hemlock I Dance, and Provencal song, and had drunk, sunburnt mirth! Or emptied some dull opiate to the O for a beaker full of the warm drains South, One minute past, and Lethe-wards Full of the true, the blushful had sunk: Hippocrene, ‘Tis not through envy of thy happy With beaded bubbles winking at the lot, brim, But being too happy in thy And purple-stained mouth; happiness,- That I might drink, and leave the That thou, light-winged Drayad of world unseen, the trees, And with thee fade away into the In some melodious plot forest dim: Of beechen green, and shadows Fade far away, dissolve, and quite numberless, forget Singest of summer in full-throated What thou among the leaves hast ease. never known, The weariness, the fever, and the And haply the Queen-Moon is on fret her throne, Here, where men sit and hear each Cluster'd around by all her starry other groan; Fays; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last But here there is no light, gray hairs, Save what from heaven is with the Where youth grows pale, and breezes blown spectre-thin, and diess; Through verdurous glooms and Where but to think is to be full of winding mossy ways. sorrow I cannot see what flowers are at my And leaden-eyed despairs; feet, Where Beauty cannot keep her Nor what soft incense hangs upon lustrous eyes, the boughs, Or new Love pine at them beyond But, in embalmed darkness, guess to-morrow. each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month Away! Away! for I will fly to thee, endows Not charioted by Bacchus and his The grass, the thicket, and the pards, fruit-tree wild; But on the viewless wings of poesy, White hawthorn, and the pastoral Though the dull brain perplexes and eglantine; retards: Fast fading violets cover’d up in Already with thee! Tender is the leaves; night, And mid-May’s eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of No hungry generations tread thee dewy wine, down; The murmurous haunt of flies on The voice I hear this passing night summer eves. was heard Darkling I listen; and for many a In ancient days by emperor and time clown: I have been half in love with easeful Perhaps the self-same song that Death, found a path Call'd him soft names in many a Through the sad heart of Ruth, mused rhyme, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien To take into the air my quiet breath; corn; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, The same that oft-times hath To cease upon the midnight with no Charm’d magic caements, opening pain, on the foam While thou art pouring forth thy Of perilous seas, in faery lands soul abroad forlorn. In such an ecstasy! Forlorn! the very word is like a bell Still wouldst thou sing, and I have To tell me back from thee to my ears in vain- sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so To thy high requiem become a sod. well Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem In the next valley-glades: fades Was it a vision, or a walking Past the near meadows, over the dream? still stream, Fled is that music:- Do I wake or Up the hill-side; and now ‘tis buried sleep? deep 夜 莺 颂 远远地、远远隐没，让我忘掉 我的心在痛，困顿和麻木 你在树叶间从不知道的一切， 刺进了感官，有如饮过毒鸠， 忘记这疲劳、热病、和焦躁， 又象是刚刚把鸦片吞服， 这使人对坐而悲叹的世界; 于是向着列斯忘川下沉: 在这里，青春苍白、消瘦、死亡， 并不是我嫉妒你的好运， 而“瘫痪”有几根白发在摇摆; 而是你的快乐使我太欢欣—— 在这里，稍一思索就充满了 因为在林间嘹亮的天地里， 忧伤和灰色的绝望， 你呵，轻翅的仙灵， 而“美”保持不住明眸的光彩， 你躲进山毛榉的葱绿和荫影， 新生的爱情活不到明天就枯凋。 放开歌喉，歌唱着夏季。 去吧～去吧～我要朝你飞去， 不用和酒神坐文豹的车驾， 哎，要是有一口酒～那冷藏 在地下多年的清醇饮料， 我要展开诗歌底无形羽翼， 一尝就令人想起绿色之邦， 尽管这头脑已经困顿、疲乏; 想起花神，恋歌，阳光和舞蹈～ 去了～呵，我已经和你同往～ 要是有一杯南国的温暖 夜这般温柔，月后正登上宝座， 充满了鲜红的灵感之泉， 周围是侍卫她的一群星星; 杯沿明灭着珍珠的泡沫， 但这儿却不甚明亮， 给嘴唇染上紫斑; 除了有一线天光，被微风带过， 哦，我要一饮而离开尘寰， 葱绿的幽暗，和苔藓的曲径。 和你同去幽暗的林中隐没: 我看不出是哪种花草在脚旁， 永生的鸟呵，你不会死去～ 什么清香的花挂在树枝上; 饥饿的世代无法将你蹂躏; 在温馨的幽暗里，我只能猜想 今夜，我偶然听到的歌曲 这个时令该把哪种芬芳 曾使古代的帝王和村夫喜悦; 赋予这果树，林莽，和草丛， 或许这同样的歌也曾激荡 这白枳花，和田野的玫瑰， 露丝忧郁的心，使她不禁落泪， 这绿叶堆中易谢的紫罗兰， 站在异邦的谷田里想着家; 还有五月中旬的娇宠， 就是这声音常常 这缀满了露酒的麝香蔷薇， 在失掉了的仙域里引动窗扉: 它成了夏夜蚊蚋的嗡萦的港湾。 一个美女望着大海险恶的浪花。 我在黑暗里倾听:呵，多少次 呵，失掉了～这句话好比一声钟 我几乎爱上了静谧的死亡， 使我猛醒到我站脚的地方～ 我在诗思里用尽了好的言辞， 别了～幻想，这骗人的妖童， 求他把我的一息散入空茫; 不能老耍弄它盛传的伎俩。 而现在，哦，死更是多么富丽: 别了～别了～你怨诉的歌声 在午夜里溘然魂离人间， 流过草坪，越过幽静的溪水， 当你正倾泻着你的心怀 溜上山坡;而此时，它正深深 发出这般的狂喜～ 埋在附近的溪谷中: 你仍将歌唱，但我却不再听见—— 噫，这是个幻觉，还是梦寐, 你的葬歌只能唱给泥草一块。 那歌声去了:——我是睡,是醒, 查良铮 译