王尔德诗10首
This winter air is keen and cold,
And keen and cold this winter sun,
But round my chair the children run
Like little things of dancing gold.
Sometimes about the painted kiosk
The mimic soldiers strut and stride,
Sometimes the blue-eyed brigands hide
In the bleak tangles of the bosk.
And sometimes, while the old nurse cons
Her book, they steal across the square,
And launch their paper navies where
Huge Triton writhes in greenish bronze.
And now in mimic flight they flee,
And now they rush, a boisterous band—
Climb up the black and leafless tree.
Ah! cruel tree! if I were you,
And children climbed me, for their sake
Though it be winter I would break
Into spring blossoms white and blue!
The moon is like a yellow seal
And soon below the dusky slope
Like a black sword of polished steel
With flickering damascenes of gold
Lies the dim Seine, while here and there
Flutters the white or crimson glare
Of some swift carriage homeward-rolled.
The Harlot's House
We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the Harlot's house.
Inside, above the din and fray,
We heard the loud musicians play
The 'Treues Liebes Herz' of Strauss.
Like strange mechanical grotesques,
Making fantastic arabesques,
The shadows raced across the blind.
We watched the ghostly dancers spin
To sound of horn and violin,
Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.
Like wire-pulled automatons,
Slim silhouetted skeletons
Went sidling through the slow quadrille,
Then took each other by the hand,
And danced a stately saraband;
Their laughter echoed thin and shrill.
Sometimes a clockwork puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast,
Sometimes they seemed to try and sing.
Sometimes a horrible Marionette
Came out, and Smoked its cigarette
Upon the steps like a live thing.
Then turning to my love I said,
'The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is whirling with the dust.'
But she, she heard the violin,
And left my side, and entered in;
Love passed into the house of Lust.
Then suddenly the tune went false,
The dancers wearied of the waltz,
The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl,
And down the long and silent street,
The dawn with silver-sandalled feet,
Crept like a frightened girl.
妓 院
我们听到跳舞的踢踏声，
我们在月光下的街道游逛，
在一家妓院门前停步。
门内，在一片骚音之上，
我们听到下作的乐师正演奏
施特劳斯的《真诚的爱》。
仿佛一个机器的怪物，
跳着怪诞的阿拉伯舞蹈，
影子在屏风之间穿梭。
我们看着舞者魔鬼似地旋转，
应和笛管和小提琴的音乐，
像一片黑色叶子随着风儿翻卷。
仿佛铁丝牵引的玩偶，
仅有轮廓的瘦骷髅
侧身穿过缓慢的四人舞，
于是他们相互手拉手，
跳起庄严的萨拉班德舞；
他们的笑声激起尖厉的回响。
有时，装有发条的木偶
将一个幻影情人抱在胸口，
有时，他们似乎在努力地歌唱，
有时，一个恐怖的傀儡
走出来，坐在台阶上
吸烟，就像一个真正的活人。
于是，我转身对我的情人说，
“死者正和死者在跳舞，
尘土正围着尘土旋转。”
但是她，她听到小提琴声，
将我扔在一边，走进去；
爱就此进入了情欲的屋子。
接着音调突然变了味，
舞者厌倦了华尔兹，
那些影子也停止了旋转，
黎明穿着一双银色的凉鞋，
像一位受了惊吓的姑娘，
悄悄地溜进这安静的长街。
Under the Balcony
O beautiful star with the crimson mouth!
O moon with the brows of gold!
Rise up, rise up, from the odorous south!
And light for my love her way,
Lest her little feet should stray
On the windy hill and the wold!
O beautiful star with the crimson mouth!
O moon with the brows of gold!
O ship that shakes on the desolate sea!
O ship with the wet, white sail!
Put in, put in, to the port to me!
For my love and I would go
To the land where the daffodils blow
In the heart of a violet dale!
O ship that shakes on the desolate sea!
O ship with the wet, white sail!
O rapturous bird with the low, sweet note!
O bird that sits on the spray!
Sing on, sing on, from your soft brown throat!
And my love in her little bed
Will listen, and lift her head
From the pillow, and come my way!
O rapturous bird with the low, sweet note!
O bird that sits on the spray!
O blossom that hangs in the tremulous air!
O blossom with lips of snow!
Come down, come down, for my love to wear!
You will die on her head in a crown,
You will die in a fold of her gown,
To her little light heart you will go!
O blossom that hangs in the tremulous air!
O blossom with lips of snow!
露台下
哦，美丽的星星有一张鲜红的嘴！
哦，月亮有一对金眉毛！
升起，升起，从芬芳的南方升起来！
为我的爱照亮她的路，
免得她的秀足误入迷途，
踏进狂风大作的荒郊野岭！
哦，美丽的星星有一张鲜红的嘴！
哦，月亮有一对金眉毛！
哦，寂寥的大海上颠簸的船儿！
哦，鼓起湿漉漉白帆的船儿！
向前，向前，快驶进我的港口！
为我的爱我将离开，
去到陆地看水仙花开
在紫罗兰山谷的心脏！
哦，寂寥的大海上颠簸的船儿！
哦，鼓起湿漉漉白帆的船儿！
哦，快乐的小鸟低沉而甜蜜地歌唱！
哦，栖停在枝头的小鸟！
歌唱，歌唱，发自你褐色的柔软喉管！
我的爱躺在她的小床上，
从眠枕上抬起头来，
聆听你的歌声，走到我身旁！
哦，快乐的小鸟低沉而甜蜜地歌唱！
哦，栖停在枝头的小鸟！
哦，在颤动空气里高悬的花朵！
哦，有着白雪嘴唇的花朵！
下来，下来，为我的爱做花衣！
你将变作花冠凋谢在她额头，
你将消殒在她长裙的褶皱，
你将进入她晶亮的小小的心！
哦，在颤动空气里高悬的花朵！
哦，有着白雪嘴唇的花朵！
To My Wife: With a Copy of My Poems
I can write no stately proem
As a prelude to my lay;
From a poet to a poem
I would dare to say.
For if of these fallen petals
One to you seem fair,
Love will waft it till it settles
On your hair.
And when wind and winter harden
All the loveless land,
It will whisper of the garden,
You will understand.
给妻子：题我的一本诗集
我写不出华丽的绪言
作为这些短歌的序曲；
我胆敢在此说出的只是
一个诗人到一首诗。
倘若这些凋落的残花
能有一朵你觉得美丽，
爱就会将它吹送，安息
在你的发丝。
当北风与冬天让一切凝固，
一切变成爱的荒原，
它就会低诉花园的絮语，
你就会恍然大悟。
Sonnet on the Sale by Auction of Keats' Love Letters
These are the letters which Endymion wrote
To one he loved in secret, and apart.
And now the brawlers of the auction mart
Bargain and bid for each poor blotted note,
Ay! for each separate pulse of passion quote
The merchant's price: I think they love not Art
Who break the crystal of a poet's heart,
That small and sickly eyes may glare or gloat.
Is it not said that many years ago,
In a far Eastern town some soldiers ran
With torches through the midnight, and began
To wrangle for mean raiment, and to throw
Dice for the garments of a wretched man,
Not knowing the God's wonder, or His woe?
有感于济慈情书被拍卖
这是恩狄弥翁写下的一批情书，
献给他秘恋而隔离的意中人。
而今，拍卖场喧闹的人们
为每一张墨迹斑驳的信笺竞价，
唉！对激情每一次独立的搏动
开出交易的价格。他们并不爱艺术，
却击碎了诗人的一颗水晶心，
那些病态的小眼睛藉此可以藐视。
莫非不曾听说，许多年以前，
在遥远东方的小镇，几个士兵
举着火把穿过子夜，开始
为劣质布衣而争吵，抛掷骰子，
只为获取可怜人的一件长袍，
却浑然不觉上帝的诧异和伤心？
The New Remorse
The sin was mine; I did not understand.
So now is music prisoned in her cave,
Save where some ebbing desultory wave
Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand.
And in the withered hollow of this land
Hath Summer dug herself so deep a grave,
That hardly can the leaden willow crave
One silver blossom from keen Winter's hand.
But who is this who cometh by the shore?
(Nay, love, look up and wonder!) Who is this
Who cometh in dyed garments from the South?
It is thy new-found Lord, and he shall kiss
The yet unravished roses of thy mouth,
And I shall weep and worship, as before.
新的忏悔
这罪属于我；那时我并不明白。
所以音乐被囚禁于她的洞穴，
唯有退潮时散漫的海浪
激起不息的漩涡侵蚀这贫瘠海岸。
在这片土地枯竭的凹洼处
夏天为自己挖了一个墓穴，
如此，愚钝的柳树就不可能
从锋利的冬天之手渴求一枝银花。
但是，走过了海岸的人究竟是谁？
（哦不，爱，你看哪，奇怪吧！）是谁
穿着染色的外套从南边走来？
那是你的新主人，他将要亲吻
你嘴唇上两朵纯洁的玫瑰，
而我将哭泣和跪拜，就如同从前。
Canzonet
I have no store
Of gryphon-guarded gold;
Now, as before,
Bare is the shepherd's fold.
Rubies, nor pearls,
Have I to gem thy throat;
Yet woodland girls
Have loved the shepherd's note.
Then, pluck a reed
And bid me sing to thee,
For I would feed
Thine ears with melody,
Who art more fair
Than fairest fleur-de-lys,
More sweet and rare
Than sweetest ambergris.
What dost thou fear?
Young Hyacinth is slain,
Pan is not here,
And will not come again.
No horned Faun
Treads down the yellow leas,
No God at dawn
Steals through the olive trees.
Hylas is dead,
Nor will he e'er divine
Those little red
Rose-petalled lips of thine.
On the high hill
No ivory Dryads play,
Silver and still
Sinks the sad autumn day.
短 歌
我没有什么仓库
储存格里芬守护的黄金；
现在，也如同从前，
牧羊人的羊圈内空空荡荡。
我既没有钻石，
也没有珍珠装饰你的脖颈；
但林地里的少女
却爱上了牧羊人的歌声。
那就折一根芦管
请吩咐我为你尽情歌唱，
我要用美妙的旋律
来滋养你的耳朵，
它们的美丽
胜过最美的鸢尾花，
它们的甜蜜
超越最甜的龙涎香。
你还有什么惊悸？
年轻的风信子已被戕杀，
潘神不在这里，
以后也不会再回来。
长角的小牧神
也不会踏过这黄色的草地，
也不会有天神
在黎明溜过橄榄丛。
海拉斯已死去，
他再也不可能预测
你的红嘴唇，
你玫瑰花瓣一样的嘴唇。
高耸的山岭上，
不再会有白肤的林仙嬉戏，
秋季悲凉的一日
让银光与安宁就此沉落。
注释
标题原文为意大利语。
With a Copy of 'A House of Pomegranates'
Go, little book,
To him who, on a lute with horns of pearl,
Sang of the white feet of the Golden Girl:
And bid him look
Into thy pages: it may hap that he
May find that golden maidens dance through thee.
《石榴之家》题辞
去吧，小书，
到他身边，他正用镶玉的竖琴
歌颂金发少女白皙的秀足：
吩咐他翻开书页
读一读：或许他侥幸能发现
那金发的女郎正通过你而翩翩起舞。
Symphony in Yellow
An omnibus across the bridge
Crawls like a yellow butterfly,
And, here and there, a passer-by
Shows like a little restless midge.
Big barges full of yellow hay
Are moored against the shadowy wharf,
And, like a yellow silken scarf,
The thick fog hangs along the quay.
The yellow leaves begin to fade
And flutter from the Temple elms,
And at my feet the pale green Thames
Lies like a rod of rippled jade.
黄色交响曲
一辆公共马车驶过桥梁，
缓缓蠕行像一只黄蝴蝶，
哦，时不时地，行人走过，
就像一只焦躁不安的小虫。
大驳船载满了黄色的干草，
靠着暗影深重的码头停泊，
浓重的雾霭笼罩着码头，
恰似一条黄色的真丝围巾。
那些黄色的树叶开始凋敝，
从教堂的榆树上四下飘飞，
我脚下苍白的绿泰晤士河
静躺，像一块碧玉隐现涟漪。
Out of the mid-wood's twilight
He skips through the copses singing,
And I know not which I should follow,
O Hunter, snare me his shadow!
O Nightingale, catch me his strain!
Else moonstruck with music and madness
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