拜伦诗9首
Translation of the Famous Greek War Song
Sons of the Greeks, arise!
The glorious hour's gone forth,
And, worthy of such ties,
Display who gave us birth.
Sons of Greeks! let us go
In arms against the foe,
Till their hated blood shall flow
In a river past our feet.
Then manfully despising
The Turkish tyrant's yoke,
Let your country see you rising,
And all her chains are broke.
Brave shades of chiefs and sages,
Behold the coming strife!
Hellenes of past ages,
Oh, start again to life!
At the sound of my trumpet, breaking
Your sleep, oh, join with me!
And the seven-hill'd city seeking,
Fight, conquer, till we're free.
Sons of Greeks! let us go
In arms against the foe,
Till their hated blood shall flow
In a river past our feet.
Sparta, Sparta, why in slumbers
Lethargic dost thou lie?
Awake, and join thy numbers
With Athens, old ally!
Leonidas recalling,
That chief of ancient song,
Who saved ye once from falling,
The terrible! the strong!
Who made that bold diversion
In old Thermopylae,
And warring with the Persian
To keep his country free;
With his three hundred waging
The battle, long he stood,
And like a lion raging,
Expired in seas of blood.
Sons of Greeks! let us go
In arms against the foe,
Till their hated blood shall flow
In a river past our feet.
让我们傲然抗拒
土耳其暴君的强权，
让祖国眼见她儿女
站起来，砸碎锁链！
先王和先哲的英灵
来检阅这场决战！
希腊的列祖列宗
听到号角的呼唤，
快从坟墓中苏生，
参加我们的战斗！
要攻克七山之城，
夺回我们的自由！
起来，希腊的儿男！
挥戈向敌人迎战，
让他们腥臭的血川
像河水在脚下奔窜！
醒来吧，斯巴达！今天
你怎能高卧不起？
同你的老伙伴雅典
快联合起来抗敌！
把历代讴歌的主君
列奥尼达斯唤回，
他曾拯救过你们，
何等刚强而可畏！
扼守在温泉险关，
他英勇牵制敌寇，
同波斯军队鏖战，
让祖国得保自由；
他率领三百勇士，
战斗中始终挺立，
像威猛暴怒的雄狮，
在滔滔血海中沉溺。
起来，希腊的儿男！
挥戈向敌人迎战，
让他们腥臭的血川
像河水在脚下奔窜！
To Thyrza
Without a stone to mark the spot,
And say, what Truth might well have said,
By all, save one, perchance forgot,
Ah! wherefore art thou lowly laid?
By many a shore and many a sea
Divided, yet beloved in vain;
The past, the future fled to thee
To bid us meet—no—ne'er again!
Could this have been—a word, a look
That softly said, 'We part in peace,'
Had taught my bosom how to brook,
With fainter sighs, thy soul's release.
And didst thou not, since Death for thee
Prepared a light and pangless dart,
Once long for him thou ne'er shalt see
Who held, and holds thee in his heart?
Oh! who like him had watch'd thee here?
Or sadly mark'd thy glazing eye,
In that dread hour ere death appear,
When silent sorrow fears to sigh,
Till all was past? But when no more
'Twas thine to reck of human woe,
Affection's heart-drops, gushing o'er,
Had flow'd as fast—as now they flow.
Shall they not flow, when many a day
In these, to me, deserted towers,
Ere call'd but for a time away,
Affection's mingling tears were ours?
Ours too the glance none saw beside;
The smile none else might understand;
The whisper'd thought of hearts allied,
The pressure of the thrilling hand;
The kiss, so guiltless and refined
That Love each warmer wish forbore;
Those eyes proclaim'd so pure a mind,
Even passion blush'd to plead for more.
The tone, that taught me to rejoice,
When prone, unlike thee, to repine;
The song, celestial from thy voice,
But sweet to me from none but thine;
The pledge we wore—I wear it still,
But where is thine? —Ah! where art thou?
Oft have I borne the weight of ill,
But never bent beneath till now!
Well hast thou left in life's best bloom
The cup of woe for me to drain.
If rest alone be in the tomb,
I would not wish thee here again;
But if in worlds more blest than this
Thy virtues seek a fitter sphere,
Impart some portion of thy bliss,
To wean me from mine anguish here.
Teach me—too early taught by thee!
To bear, forgiving and forgiven:
On earth thy love was such to me;
It fain would form my hope in heaven!
祝我们团聚——不再，永不再！
若曾有一句话，或一道眼波，
说过“让我们默默分手”，
那么，对于你灵魂的解脱
或许我还能吞声忍受。
听说死神给你的一箭
轻快而无痛；临终时，曾否
把无缘再见的故人眷念——
他始终把你牢记在心头？
有哪个像他的，曾来守护你，
痛心地看到你目光渐滞，
死亡在临近，悲叹也屏息，
直到这种种全都完事？
而当你寂然化为异物，
对人间悲苦不再萦怀，
深情的热泪就夺眶而出，
飞快地奔涌——一如现在。
怎能不奔涌！有不少日子，
当我还不曾暂离本地，
在现已荒废的楼台，多次
你我的热泪混融在一起！
无人曾见的脉脉相觑；
无人能解的淡淡笑容；
缔盟两心低诉的思绪；
颤栗手儿的抚摩触动；
我们的亲吻，纯真无邪，
使爱情抑制了热切心愿；
眼神昭示了心灵的明洁，
连激情也羞于另生奢念。
我与你不同，常耽于苦恼，
是你的音调教给我欢欣；
是你的仙喉使歌声神妙，
那甘美仅仅源于你一人。
你我的信物——我至今佩带，
你的在哪里？——你又在哪里？
沉重的忧患，我惯常负载，
从未像今天，压弯了背脊！
在芳艳年华，你悠然远逝，
苦难的深杯留给我喝干。
墓穴里果真只有安适，
又何需望你重返人寰。
倘若在神圣的星河天国，
你找到一座中意的星球，
请把那福祉分一份给我，
好摆脱这边无尽的烦忧。
我早就蒙你教益；如今
教会我苦熬吧，与世人互谅；
在世间，你爱我如此情深，
当乐于赐我天国的希望！
Away, Away
Away, away, ye notes of woe!
Be silent, thou once soothing strain,
Or I must flee from hence—for, oh!
I dare not trust those sounds again.
To me they speak of brighter days—
But lull the chords, for now, alas!
I must not think, I may not gaze
On what I am—on what I was.
The voice that made those sounds more sweet
Is hush'd, and all their charms are fled;
And now their softest notes repeat
A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!
Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee
Beloved dust! since dust thou art;
And all that once was harmony
Is worse than discord to my heart!
'Tis silent all!—but on my ear
The well remember'd echoes thrill;
I hear a voice I would not hear,
A voice that now might well be still:
Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake;
Even slumber owns its gentle tone,
Till consciousness will vainly wake
To listen, though the dream be flown.
Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
Thou art but now a lovely dream;
A star that trembled o'er the deep,
Then turned from earth its tender beam.
But he who through life's dreary way
Must pass, when heaven is veil'd in wrath,
Will long lament the vanish'd ray
That scatter'd gladness o'er his path.
我不愿正视，也不堪回忆
我的今日，和我的当年。
你嗓音已哑，使这些乐曲
原先的魅力都逃逸无踪；
如今，它们低回的旋律
不过是挽歌哀乐的复诵。
是的，它们在唱你，赛沙！
唱你——被人挚爱的尘土；
那曲调原先是雍融和洽，
如今比不上嘈杂的喧呼！
全都静默了！可是我耳边
记忆犹新的回声在颤栗；
听见的声音，我不愿听见，
这样的声音早就该沉寂。
它还在摇撼我迷惘的心灵，
那柔婉乐音潜入我梦寐，
“意识”枉然醒过来谛听，
那梦境早已飞去不回。
赛沙呵！醒来也如在梦中，
你化为一场神奇的梦幻；
仿佛海上闪烁的孤星，
清光已不再俯照人寰。
当苍天震怒，大地阴晦，
有人在人生的征途跋涉，
他久久悼惜那隐没的明辉——
它在这征途上投洒过欢乐。
If Sometimes in the Haunts of Men
If sometimes in the haunts of men
Thine image from my breast may fade,
The lonely hour presents again
The semblance of thy gentle shade:
And now that sad and silent hour
Thus much of thee can still restore,
And sorrow unobserved may pour
The plaint she dare not speak before.
Oh, pardon that in crowds awhile
I waste one thought I owe to thee,
And self-condemn'd, appear to smile,
Unfaithful to thy memory!
Nor deem that memory less dear,
That then I seem not to repine;
I would not fools should overhear
One sigh that should be wholly thine.
If not the goblet pass unquaff'd,
It is not drain'd to banish care;
The cup must hold a deadlier draught,
That brings a Lethe for despair.
And could Oblivion set my soul
From all her troubled visions free,
I'd dash to earth the sweetest bowl
That drown'd a single thought of thee.
For wert thou vanish'd from my mind,
Where could my vacant bosom turn?
And who would then remain behind
To honour thine abandon'd Urn?
No, no—it is my sorrow's pride
That last dear duty to fulfil;
Though all the world forget beside,
'Tis meet that I remember still.
For well I know, that such had been
Thy gentle care for him, who now
Unmourn'd shall quit this mortal scene,
Where none regarded him, but thou:
And, oh! I feel in that was given
A blessing never meant for me;
Thou wert too like a dream of Heaven.
For earthly Love to merit thee.
还能唤回你前尘历历，
无人察见的哀思会诉说
以前未敢倾吐的悲戚。
恕我有时也不免虚耗
那本应专注于你的心意，
我责怪自己强颜欢笑，
未能尽忠于对你的思忆。
似乎我不曾哀恸，那决非
对往事旧情不知珍惜；
我不愿愚夫们听到我伤悲：
向你，只向你吞声饮泣！
传杯把盏，我并不拒绝，
却不是以此排遣忧伤；
杯中的毒素要更加酷烈，
才能忘却心中的绝望。
“遗忘”或能把我的灵魂
从种种骚乱烦扰中解脱；
它若敢淹没对你的思忖，
我就要把那金杯摔破！
倘若你从我心头消失，
这空白心灵又转向何处？
那时有谁留下来坚持
祭扫你被人离弃的坟墓？
我悲怆的心情以此自豪——
履行这最终的高贵职责；
哪怕全世界都把你忘掉，
只要有我在，我终久记得！
因为我深知，在悠悠往昔，
你对他何等亲切温存；
今后他死去再无人悼惜，
眷念过他的只有你一人；
我从你那儿蒙受的恩幸
决不是理应归我所有；
你宛如一场天国绮梦，
尘世爱情不配去攀求。
An Ode to the Framers of the Frame Bill
Oh well done Lord E—n! and better done R—r!
Britannia must prosper with councils like yours;
Hawkesbury, Harrowby, help you to guide her,
whose remedy only must kill ere it cures:
Those villains, the Weavers, are all grown refractory,
Asking some succour for Charity's sake—
So hang them in clusters round each Manufactory,
That will at once put an end to mistake.
The rascals, perhaps, may betake them to robbing,
The dogs to be sure have got nothing to eat—
So if we can hang them for breaking a bobbin,
'T will save all the Government's money and meat:
Men are more easily made than machinery—
Stockings fetch better prices than lives—
Gibbets on Sherwood will heighten the scenery,
Showing how Commerce, how Liberty thrives!
Justice is now in pursuit of the wretches,
Grenadiers, Volunteers, Bon-street Police,
Twenty-two Regiments, a score of Juck Ketches,
Three of the Quorum and two of the Peace;
Some Lords, to be sure, would have summoned the Judges,
To take their opinion, but that they ne'er shall,
For LIVERPOOL such a concession begrudges,
So now they're condemned by no Judges at all.
Some folks for certain have thought it was shocking,
When Famine appeals and when Poverty groans,
That Life should be valued at less than a stocking,
And breaking of frames lead to breaking of bones.
If it should prove so, I trust, by this token,
(And who will refuse to partake in the hope?)
That the frames of the fools may be first to be broken,
Who, when asked for a remedy, sent down a rope.
以“仁爱”为名，要什么救助——
把他们吊死在工厂近旁，
就能够了结这一桩“错误”。
那一帮无赖，也许会抢劫，
像一群野狗，没啥东西吃——
谁弄坏纱轴，便立地绞决，
好节省政府的钱财和肉食。
造人挺容易，机器可难得——
人 命不值钱，袜子可贵重——
舍伍德的绞架使山河生色，
显示着商业和自由的兴隆！
近卫团，志愿队，法院的法警，
三名推事官，两位保安官，
二十个绞刑手，二十二团官兵，
把这些穷小子缉拿归案；
有几位爵爷，想找审判员
作一番咨询，可是办 不到，
利物浦不肯给这种恩典，
压根儿没审判，就通通干掉！
人们一定会感到惊诧：
在百姓啼饥号寒的时候，
人命竟不值一双长袜？
打烂机器的该打断骨头？
我想：（谁不这么想？）如果
当真是这样，有这种蠢汉——
人家要救助，他却给绞索，
那就先把他骨头打断！
Lines to a Lady Weeping
Weep, daughter of a royal line,
A Sire's disgrace, a realm's decay;
Ah! happy if each tear of thine
Could wash a father's fault away!
Weep—for thy tears are Virtue's tears—
Auspicious to these suffering isles;
And be each drop in future years
Repaid thee by thy people's smiles!
人民将会在未来的年岁
以笑颜回报你每一滴泪珠。
Windsor Poetics
Lines Composed on the Occasion of His Royal Highness the Prince Regent being Seen standing between the Coffins of Henry VIII and Charles I in the Royal Vault at Windsor
Famed for contemptuous breach of sacred ties,
By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies;
Between them stands another sceptred thing—
It moves, it reigns — in all but name, a king:
Charles to his people, Henry to his wife,
—In him the double tyrant starts to life:
Justice and death have mix'd their dust in vain,
Each royal vampire wakes to life again.
Ah, what can tombs avail!— since these disgorge
The blood and dust of both — to mould a George.
闻摄政 王殿下在温莎谒陵时立于亨利八世与查理一世灵榇之间，有感而作。
他呀，对人民像查理，对妻子像亨利，
他身上，一个双料暴君在崛起；
审判和死亡枉自把尸灰糅混，
两个皇家吸血鬼又起死还魂。
坟墓没奈何，把他们的骨血灰渣
吐出来，捏塑成一位乔治殿下。
The Chain I Gave
From the Turkish
The chain I gave was fair to view,
The lute I added sweet in sound;
The heart that offer'd both was true,
And ill deserved the fate it found.
These gifts were charm'd by secret spell
Thy truth in absence to divine;
And they have done their duty well,—
Alas! they could not teach thee thine.
That chain was firm in every link,
But not to bear a stranger's touch;
That lute was sweet—till thou could'st think
In other hands its notes were such.
Let him, who from thy neck unbound
The chain which shiver'd in his grasp,
Who saw that lute refuse to sound,
Restring the chords, renew the clasp.
When thou wert changed, they alter'd too;
The chain is broke, the music mute.
'Tis past—to them and thee adieu—
False heart, frail chain, and silent lute.
能占卜我走后你是否忠贞；
它们的责任尽到了，——可惜
没能教会你尽你的责任。
项链挺结实，环环扣紧，
但生人的抚弄它不能忍受；
琴声也甜美——但你莫相信
在别人手里它同样温柔。
他摘你项链，项链就断折，
他弹这诗琴，琴哑口无言；
它们抗拒他，看来，他只得
换新的链扣，上新的琴弦。
既然你变了，它们也得变：
项链碎裂，琴韵无声。
罢了！和它们、和你再见——
哑琴，脆链，欺诈的心灵！
She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
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