叶芝《一个男人的青春与暮年》
Though nurtured like the sailing moon
She walked awhile and blushed awhile
But since I laid a hand thereon
And found a heart of stone
I have attempted many things,
And not a thing is done,
For every hand is lunatic
That travels on the moon.
She smiled and that transfigured me
And left me but a lout,
Maundering here, and maundering there,
Emptier of thought
Than the heavenly circuit of its stars
Ⅱ
Human Dignity
Like the moon her kindness is,
If kindness I may call
What has no comprehension in't,
But is the same for all
As though my sorrow were a scene
Upon a painted wall.
So like a bit of stone I lie
Under a broken tree.
I could recover if I shrieked
My heart's agony
To passing bird, but I am dumb
A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Laughed;and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.
Ⅳ
The Death of the Hare
I have pointed out the yelling pack,
The hare leap to the wood,
And when I pass a compliment
Rejoice as lover should
At the drooping of an eye,
At the mantling of the blood.
Then suddenly my heart is wrung
By her distracted air
And I remember wildness lost
And after, swept from there,
Am set down standing in the wood
At the death of the hare.
V
The Empty Cup
A crazy man that found a cup,
When all but dead of thirst,
Hardly dared to wet his mouth
Imagining, moon-accursed,
That another mouthful
And his beating heart would burst.
October last I found it too
But found it dry as bone,
And for that reason am I crazed
And my sleep is gone.
VI
His Memories
We should be hidden from their eyes,
Being but holy shows
And bodies broken like a thorn
Whereon the bleak north blows,
To think of buried Hector
And that none living knows.
The women take so little stock
In what I do or say
They'd sooner leave their cosseting
To hear a jackass bray;
My arms are like the twisted thorn
And yet there beauty lay;
The first of all the tribe lay there
And did such pleasure take—
She who had brought great Hector down
And put all Troy to wreck—
That she cried into this ear,
‘Strike me if I shriek.'
VII
The Friends of His Youth
Laughter not time destroyed my voice
And put that crack in it,
And when the moon's pot-bellied
I get a laughing fit,
For that old Madge comes down the lane,
A stone upon her breast,
And a cloak wrapped about the stone,
And she can get no rest
With singing hush and hush-a-bye;
She that has been wild
And barren as a breaking wave
Thinks that the stone's a child.
And Peter that had great affairs
And was a pushing man
Shrieks,‘I am King of the Peacocks,'
And perches on a stone;
And then I laugh till tears run down
And the heart thumps at my side,
Remembering that her shriek was love
And that he shrieks from pride.
VIII
Summer and Spring
We sat under an old thorn-tree
And talked away the night,
Told all that had been said or done
Since first we saw the light,
And when we talked of growing up
Knew that we'd halved a soul
And fell the one in t'other's arms
That we might make it whole;
Then Peter had a murdering look,
For it seemed that he and she
Had spoken of their childish days
Under that very tree.
O what a bursting out there was,
And what a blossoming,
When we had all the summer-time
And she had all the spring!
IX
The Secrets of the Old
I have old women's secrets now
That had those of the young;
Madge tells me what I dared not think
When my blood was strong,
And what had drowned a lover once
Sounds like an old song.
Though Margery is stricken dumb
If thrown in Madge's way,
We three make up a solitude;
For none alive to-day
Can know the stories that we know
Or say the things we say:
How such a man pleased women most
Of all that are gone,
How such a pair loved many years
And such a pair but one,
Stories of the bed of straw
Or the bed of down.
X
His Wildness
O bid me mount and sail up there
Amid the cloudy wrack,
For Peg and Meg and Paris'love
That had so straight a back,
Are gone away, and some that stay
Have changed their silk for sack.
Were I but there and none to hear
1'd have a peacock cry,
For that is natural to a man
That lives in memory,
Being all alone I'd nurse a stone
And sing it lullaby.
XI
From‘Oedipus at Colonus'
Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span;
Cease to remember the delights of youth, travel-wearied aged man;
Delight becomes death-longing if all longing else be vain.
Even from that delight memory treasures so,
Death, despair, division of families, all entanglements of mankind grow,
As that old wandering beggar and these God-hated children know.
In the long echoing street the laughing dancers throng,
The bride is carried to the bridegroom's chamber through torchlight and tumultuous song;
I celebrate the silent kiss that ends short life or long.
Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say;
Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have looked into the eye of day;
The second best's a gay goodnight and quickly turn away.
我曾以为她的胸口里
藏着一颗血肉的心。
但我伸手过去,却发现
她的心有如石铸,从此
我的一切事情
再不顺遂,因为
若伸手在月亮上摸索,
定是神经出了问题。
她的微笑改变了我的面容,
自她去后,我如戏中的丑角,
来回踱步,
内心荒芜,
还不如群星在天上的轨迹
自月亮离开之后。
二
人的尊严
她的好意就像那月亮,
若我可以
把其中捉摸不透的、而对所有人
都一样的东西称作好意,
好像我的忧伤只是一个剧中场景,
衬着身后装饰过的墙壁。
于是我躺倒,像一块石头
躺倒在枯树下边。
若能把心中痛苦向着
掠过的鸟儿嘶喊,
或许我才能平复一些,但我无言,
出于人的尊严。
三
美人鱼
美人鱼发现一位游水的少年,
便捉他来,做自己的情郎,
紧紧拥抱着他的身体,
恣意地笑着,潜入水底;
却忘记了啊,在残忍的欢娱里,
便是有情人也会溺毙。
四
野兔之死
我指出那狂吠的犬群所在,
好让野兔跳入树林,
当我对那低垂的眼眸致意时,
对那涨红的脸儿致意时,
便有了恋人的欢愉。
突然间,我心绞痛,
因她失神的容颜,
遂忆起那野性早失,
若喝上一口,
那狂跳的心就会爆裂。
去年十月我找到了那只杯子,
却发现它已是一只空杯,
我因此而疯癫,
因此而疏远了睡眠。
六
他的回忆
我们应该远离他们的目光,
只如圣灵般出现,
身躯碎裂如荆棘,
任由凛冽的北风吹打,
想想已死的赫克托尔吧,他的名字
如今已再无人知。
我的所言所行
女人们并不关注,
她们宁可离座
去听驴子的歌声,
而我那荆棘般的手臂,
也曾有位美人枕过。
那是整个部落里最美的人儿,
与我欢愉——
她曾使伟大的赫克托尔威风扫地,
还毁灭了一座特洛伊,
而她,“若我尖叫就再用力些吧,”
——曾在我耳边这样私语。
七
他青年时代的朋友们
是笑声而非时光
沙哑了我的声音,
每到月圆的时候
我陷入笑的痉挛,
因老梅吉从小巷走来,
抱着一块石头,
一块裹了斗篷的石头,
她嘴里喃喃着不停,
唱着催眠的歌儿,
她曾狂野过,如今
却如碎裂的浪花,无力生育
把石头当作婴儿。
彼得是个精力过人的家伙,
有过非凡的种种情事,
他高喊着以孔雀王自诩,
在石上歇息;
而我大笑着直到泪水流下,
心脏的胸口急跳,
想起从前,她的尖叫是因为爱情,
他的叫喊是因为骄傲。
八
夏天和春天
我们坐在一棵老棘树下,
谈了整整一晚,
谈起我们有生之年
做过的事,说过的话;
我们谈起成年的时候
裂去了一个完整的灵魂,
谈到只有依偎在彼此的怀里
那灵魂才能再度合一;
彼得突然露出凶巴巴的表情,
因为他和她
也是在这棵树下
似曾同样谈起过他们共同的童年。
啊,怎样的萌芽初吐,
怎样的花团锦簇,
当我们拥有着整个夏季,
而她,拥有着全部的春天。
九
老人的秘密
如今,我知晓了老妇的秘密,
知晓了她们年轻时的往事;
梅吉告诉了我一位恋人溺死的经过,
她的话像一支古老的谣曲,
那是我年轻时候
也不敢想象的事情。
要是玛格丽也在,
也会被这些故事惊得无言,
而我们虽然三人一起,却只感到孤单;
因为,今天在世的人啊,
无一知晓我们所知的往事,
无一知晓我们所说的故事。
在所有逝去的人当中,
有那么一个男人曾经被女人们喜欢,
有那么一对恋人曾经相爱多年,
许许多多的故事,
富贵,贫贱,
不再流传。
十
他的狂野
啊,让我上马,起程,
在无数残骸中穿行,
因为年轻的
佩格、麦格、帕里斯的恋人
都已逝去,而留下的人
用绸缎换取了麻布。
如果我在那里,无人知晓,
我会让一只孔雀啼叫,
因这对一个活在回忆中的男人
是件再自然不过的事情;
在无比的孤独里,我情愿照看一块石头,
给它唱催眠曲听。
十一
出自《俄狄浦斯在科洛努斯》
安于上天给予的生命,不要祈求长寿,
倦旅中的老者啊,别再回想往昔的欢愉,
若一切渴望都归于徒劳,欢愉即会变作对死亡的渴望。
甚至,从那为记忆所珍藏的欢愉里,
也会生出死亡、绝望、家庭的分裂、种种人世的纠葛,
一如这流浪的老丐与这些被上天厌弃的孩童所知。
在满是回声的长街上拥挤着跳舞的人群,
在火把与喧闹的歌声中,新娘被领入新郎的卧房,
可是自从我伸出了手,
摸到的竟是一颗坚如铁石的心,
我使尽了浑身解数,
皆是一事无成,
每次牵手都成了疯狂之举,
就像要登月旅行。
她莞尔一笑又让我多情,
捉弄得我愈加愚蠢,
这儿絮絮叨叨,那儿胡思乱想,
思想空虚郁闷
掩过了月亮消失后的
失魂落魄的星辰。
尊严
她的友爱像月亮,
要是我把这虚无空荡
也叫作友爱,
而且对谁又都一样,
这就像我的悲伤是一面布景
挂在粉刷好的墙上。
因此我像一块儿小小的石头
躺在一棵枯木下。
只要我向飞鸟嘶鸣抖落
欢乐着,向深水潜去,
可是忘记了这溺爱
会将情人淹毙。
野兔之死
我故意朝一伙追喊的人说,
野兔跑进了树林,
我的一句救美的奉承
使情人甚为欢欣,
羞愧地低下了眼,
脸上泛起红晕。
可是她突然的心烦意乱
让我的心抽搐,
我知道狂醉的热恋已走失,
我望着那片林木,
又慢慢走到那里停下,
看着死去的野兔。
空杯
饥渴的要死,
终于找到了一个水杯,
可舔着唇却不敢抿一口,
因想着月亮的诅咒而忌讳,
但还是终于喝上一口,
而心跳的快要裂碎。
去年十月我又找到这个杯子,
荆棘伛偻缠绕在一起,
想到被埋葬的赫克托尔,
无人知其临终之举。
女人不知怎想多不肯相信
我的所做所言,
她们宁可离开其宠爱
去听一头公驴叫唤;
我的双臂像荆棘一样盘拧,
曾经是美人的梦弯。
部落之花曾躺在我的臂弯,
那是月下良宵——
她使英雄赫克托尔倒下,
她把整个特洛伊毁掉——
她在我耳边说,
“打我吧,我若尖叫。”
青年时代的朋友
是笑声而非时光毁了我的嗓音,
使我的嗓音变得粗哑,
一见月亮变圆像鼓起了肚子,
我就忍不住又要大笑了,
因老玛奇又抱着一块儿石头
从巷子里走出来了,
她总是用外衣包住石头,
不停地唱呀唱呀,
宝贝呀睡觉呀睡觉;
她的纵情放荡像破碎的浪花,
导致不能生育,
遂把石头当孩子了。
彼得是情场高手,
他精力充沛,不知疲劳,
他高喊,“我是孔雀之王,”
最后碰到石头,不再逞骄。
我笑的眼泪都出来了,
心都跟着怦怦跳,
我笑女人的高叫都是为了爱情,
男人的高叫都是为了炫耀。
春夏
我们坐在老荆棘树下,
彻夜长谈,
聊着我们从小的
那些天真烂漫,
当讲到长大成人,
我们知道两颗心曾天各一边
只要拥抱在一起
就会合为一团。
寻而彼得脸生醋色,
好像他们俩个
也在这老棵树下
说过儿时生活。
她曾把一个情人淹死。
玛杰里顿时被震哑,
不敢想像她是玛奇会是怎番情景,
我们三人保持着缄默;
时至今日仍寂然无声,
无人知道我们知道的故事,
无人说我们说的事情:
这是怎样的一个男人
不争花逐香而情有独钟,
这是怎样的一对恋人
相爱多年水乳交融,
他们发誓无论贫穷还是富有
都要厮守一生。
狂野
啊,让我跃马飞上
那翻滚的云海,
多少女人丢掉了
她们硕壮英俊的最爱,
她们到了最后
总是拿钢铁换烧柴。
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