To A Skylark

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所属分类:黑色文学

Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!

你好啊,欢乐的精灵!

Bird thou never wert,

你似乎从不是飞禽,

That from Heaven, or near it,

从天堂或天堂的邻近,

Pourest thy full heart

以酣畅淋漓的乐音,

In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

不事雕琢的艺术,倾吐你的衷心。

 


Higher still and higher

向上,再向高处飞翔,

From the earth thou springest

从地面你一跃而上,

Like a cloud of fire;

象一片烈火的轻云,

The blue deep thou wingest,

掠过蔚蓝的天心,

And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

永远歌唱着飞翔,飞翔着歌唱。

 


In the golden lightning

地平线下的太阳,

Of the sunken sun

放射出金色的电光,

O'er which clouds are bright'ning,

晴空里霞蔚云蒸,

Thou dost float and run,

你沐浴着阳光飞行,

Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

似不具形体的喜悦刚开始迅疾的远征。

 


The pale purple even

淡淡的紫色黎明

Melts around thy flight;

在你航程周围消融,

Like a star of Heaven

象昼空里的星星,

In the broad daylight

虽然不见形影,

Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight:

却可以听得清你那欢乐的强音——

 


Keen as are the arrows

那犀利无比的乐音,

Of that silver sphere,

似银色星光的利箭,

Whose intense lamp narrows

它那强烈的明灯,

In the white dawn clear

在晨曦中暗淡,

Until we hardly see--we feel that it is there.

直到难以分辨,却能感觉到就在空间。

 


All the earth and air

整个大地和大气,

With thy voice is loud.

响彻你婉转的歌喉,

As, when night is bare,

仿佛在荒凉的黑夜,

From one lonely cloud

从一片孤云背后,

The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.

明月射出光芒,清辉洋溢宇宙。

 


What thou art we know not;

我们不知,你是什么,

What is most like thee?

什么和你最为相似?

From rainbow clouds there flow not

从霓虹似的彩霞

Drops so bright to see

也降不下这样美的雨,

As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.

能和当你出现时降下的乐曲甘霖相比。

 


Like a poet hidden

象一位诗人,隐身

In the light of thought,

在思想的明辉之中,

Singing hymns unbidden,

吟诵着即兴的诗韵,

Till the world is wrought

直到普天下的同情

To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:

都被未曾留意过的希望和忧虑唤醒。

 


Like a high-born maiden

象一位高贵的少女,

In a palace tower,

居住在深宫的楼台,

Soothing her love-laden

在寂寞难言的时刻,

Soul in secret hour

排遣她为爱所苦的情怀,

With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:

甜美有如爱情的歌曲,溢出闺阁之外;

 


Like a glow-worm golden

象一只金色的萤火虫,

In a dell of dew,

在凝露的深山幽谷,

Scattering unbeholden

不显露它的行踪,

Its aerial hue

把晶莹的流光传播,

Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:

在遮断我们视线的芳草鲜花丛中;

 


Like a rose embowered

象一朵让自己的绿叶

In its own green leaves,

阴蔽着的玫瑰,

By warm winds deflowered,

遭受到热风的摧残,

Till the scent it gives

直到它的芳菲

Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves.

以过浓的香甜使鲁莽的飞贼沉醉;

 


Sound of vernal showers

晶莹闪烁的草地,

On the twinkling grass,

春霖洒落的声息,

Rain-awakened flowers,

雨后苏醒的花瓣,

All that ever was

称得上明朗,欢悦,

Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.

清新的一切,都不及你的音乐。

 


Teach us, sprite or bird,

飞禽或是精灵,有什么

What sweet thoughts are thine:

甜美的思绪在你心头?

I have never heard

我从没有听到过

Praise of love or wine

爱情或是淳酒的颂歌

That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.

能够迸涌出这样神圣的极乐音流。

 


Chorus hymeneal

赞婚的合唱也罢,

Or triumphal chaunt

凯旋的欢歌也罢,

Matched with thine, would be all

和你的乐曲相比,

But an empty vaunt--

不过是空调的浮夸,

A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.

人们可以觉察,其中总有着贫乏。

 


What objects are the fountains

什么样的物象或事件,

Of thy happy strain?

是你欢乐乐曲的源泉?

What fields, or waves, or mountains?

什么田野、波涛、山峦?

What shapes of sky or plain?

什么空中陆上的形态?

What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?

是你对同类的爱,还是对痛苦的绝缘?

 


With thy clear keen joyance

有你明澈强烈的欢快。

Languor cannot be:

倦怠永不会出现,

Shadow of annoyance

烦恼的阴影从来

Never came near thee:

近不得你的身边,

Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.

你爱,却从不知晓过分充满爱的悲哀。

 


Waking or asleep,

是醒来或是睡去,

Thou of death must deem

你对死的理解一定比

Things more true and deep

我们凡人梦想到的

Than we mortals dream,

更加深刻真切,否则

Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?

你的乐曲音流,怎能象液态的水晶涌泻?

 


We look before and after,

我们瞻前顾后,为了,

And pine for what is not:

不存在的事物自扰,

Our sincerest laughter,

我们最真挚的笑,

With some pain is fraught;

也交织着某种苦恼,

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

我们最美的音乐是最能倾诉哀思的曲调。

 


Yet if we could scorn,

可是,即使我们能摈弃,

Hate, and pride, and fear;

憎恨、傲慢和恐惧,

If we were things born,

即使我们生来不会,

Not to shed a tear,

抛洒一滴眼泪,

I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.

我也不知,怎能接近于你的欢愉。

 


Better than all measures,

比一切欢乐的音律,

Of delightful sound,

更加甜蜜美妙,

Better than all treasures,

比一切书中的宝库,

That in books are found,

更加丰盛富饶,

Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!

这就是鄙弃尘土的你啊,你的艺术技巧。

 


Teach me half the gladness,

教给我一半,你的心,

That thy brain must know,

必定熟知的欢欣,

Such harmonious madness,

和谐、炽热的激情,

From my lips would flow,

就会流出我的双唇,

The world should listen then, as I am listening now!

全世界就会象此刻的我——侧耳倾听。

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