夜莺颂
我的心在痛,困顿和麻木
刺进了感官,有如饮过毒鸠,
又象是刚刚把鸦片吞服,
于是向着列斯忘川下沉:
并不是我嫉妒你的好运,
而是你的快乐使我太欢欣--
因为在林间嘹亮的天地里,
你呵,轻翅的仙灵,
你躲进山毛榉的葱绿和荫影,
放开歌喉,歌唱着夏季。
哎,要是有一口酒!那冷藏
在地下多年的清醇饮料,
一尝就令人想起绿色之邦,
想起花神,恋歌,阳光和舞蹈!
要是有一杯南国的温暖
充满了鲜红的灵感之泉,
杯沿明灭着珍珠的泡沫,
给嘴唇染上紫斑;
哦,我要一饮而离开尘寰,
和你同去幽暗的林中隐没:
远远地、远远隐没,让我忘掉
你在树叶间从不知道的一切,
忘记这疲劳、热病、和焦躁,
这使人对坐而悲叹的世界;
在这里,青春苍白、消瘦、死亡,
而“瘫痪”有几根白发在摇摆;
在这里,稍一思索就充满了
忧伤和灰色的绝望,
而“美”保持不住明眸的光彩,
新生的爱情活不到明天就枯凋。
去吧!去吧!我要朝你飞去,
不用和酒神坐文豹的车驾,
我要展开诗歌底无形羽翼,
尽管这头脑已经困顿、疲乏;
去了!呵,我已经和你同往!
夜这般温柔,月后正登上宝座,
周围是侍卫她的一群星星;
但这儿却不甚明亮,
除了有一线天光,被微风带过,
葱绿的幽暗,和苔藓的曲径。
我看不出是哪种花草在脚旁,
什么清香的花挂在树枝上;
在温馨的幽暗里,我只能猜想
这个时令该把哪种芬芳
赋予这果树,林莽,和草丛,
这白枳花,和田野的玫瑰,
这绿叶堆中易谢的紫罗兰,
还有五月中旬的娇宠,
这缀满了露酒的麝香蔷薇,
它成了夏夜蚊蚋的嗡萦的港湾。
我在黑暗里倾听:呵,多少次
我几乎爱上了静谧的死亡,
我在诗思里用尽了好的言辞,
求他把我的一息散入空茫;
而现在,哦,死更是多么富丽:
在午夜里溘然魂离人间,
当你正倾泻着你的心怀
发出这般的狂喜!
你仍将歌唱,但我却不再听见--
你的葬歌只能唱给泥草一块。
永生的鸟呵,你不会死去!
饥饿的世代无法将你蹂躏;
今夜,我偶然听到的歌曲
曾使古代的帝王和村夫喜悦;
或许这同样的歌也曾激荡
露丝忧郁的心,使她不禁落泪,
站在异邦的谷田里想着家;
就是这声音常常
在失掉了的仙域里引动窗扉:
一个美女望着大海险恶的浪花。
呵,失掉了!这句话好比一声钟
使我猛醒到我站脚的地方!
别了!幻想,这骗人的妖童,
不能老耍弄它盛传的伎俩。
别了!别了!你怨诉的歌声
流过草坪,越过幽静的溪水,
溜上山坡;而此时,它正深深
埋在附近的溪谷中:
噫,这是个幻觉,还是梦寐?
那歌声去了:--我是睡?是醒?
查良铮译
Ode to A Nightingale
Jos
My 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 t,
But being too hine happiness,--
t t-rees
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-ted ease.
O, for a draugage! t h been
Coold a long age in th,
tasting of Flora and try green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of th,
Full of true, the blushful hippocrene,
it the brim,
And purple-stained mouth
t I mighe world unseen,
And o t dim
Fade far ae forget
t never known,
t
and her groan;
gray hairs,
re-thin, and dies;
to to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
y cannot keep rous eyes,
Or ne to-morrow.
Ao thee,
Not ced by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
tards
Already ender is t,
And hrone,
Clusterd around by all arry Fays;
But ,
Save w from he breezes blown
through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see my feet,
Nor incense he boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess eac
h endows
t, and t-tree wild;
e oral eglantine;
Fast fading violets coverd up in leaves;
And mid-Mays eldest child,
the coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
t of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I h,
Calld names in many a mused rhyme,
to take into t breath;
No rico die,
to cease upon t h no pain,
pouring forthy soul abroad
In sucasy!
Still thou sing, and I have ears in vain--
to thy high requiem become a sod.
t not born for deatal Bird!
No ions tread thee down;
t was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Per found a path
t of Ruth, when, sick for home,
Sood in tears amid the alien corn;
t oft-times h
Cs, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
to toll me back from to my sole self!
Adieu! t c so well
As so do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! tive anthem fades
Past till stream,
Up tis buried deep
In t valley-glades:
as it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is t music:--Do I wake or sleep?