雪莱诗10首
Stanza, written at Bracknell
Thy dewy looks sink in my breast;
Thy gentle words stir poison there;
Thou hast disturbed the only rest
That was the portion of despair!
Subdued to Duty's hard control,
I could have borne my wayward lot:
The chains that bind this ruined soul
Had cankered then—but crushed it not.
写在布雷克耐尔
你的泪容尚铭记在我的深心，
柔声蜜语仍在搅动毒鸩，
你打扰过我仅有的和平宁静，
那曾经是绝望的一部分；
倘若是顺从本份严厉的拘束，
我原可任凭命运的摆布，
禁锢我残破灵魂的枷锁似痈疽
折磨，却未能使它降伏。
Stanzas.—April, 1814
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even:
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
Pause not! The time is past! Every voice cries, Away!
Tempt not with one last tear thy friend's ungentle mood:
Thy lover's eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay:
Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.
Away, away! to thy sad and silent home;
Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth;
Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come,
And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth.
The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head:
The blooms of dewy spring shall gleam beneath thy feet:
But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead,
Ere midnight's frown and morning's smile, ere thou and peace may meet.
The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose,
For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep:
Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows;
Whatever moves, or toils, or grieves, hath its appointed sleep.
Thou in the grave shalt rest—yet till the phantoms flee
Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile,
Thy remembrance, and repentance, and deep musings are not free
From the music of two voices and the light of one sweet smile.
无题——1814年4月
去吧！那月光下的荒野阴郁暗淡，
疾驰的云朵已吞没尽落日的余晖；
去吧！越刮越紧的风将召来黑暗，
深沉午夜将包裹天空恬静的光辉。
别停留！时刻已过！每一声呼唤
都催你归去，别用泪水招惹朋友
哀愁，本份和疏懒都指引你回返
孤独，连恋人都不敢恳求你不走。
去吧去吧！去你悲哀寂静的家园，
把辛酸的泪水倾注给荒凉的炉灶，
坐视灰暗的阴影像幽灵来去往返，
用悲怆的欢乐把奇异的蛛网织造。
秋林的落叶将飞舞在你头的周遭，
带露珠的春花将在你的脚下开放；
不待夜颦、晨笑，你和安宁拥抱，
你今世的灵魂便会在寒霜中消亡。
午夜的云影自有它们休息的时刻，
由于月已沉没，或是风倦而安恬：
不安的海也知道动荡之后的息歇；
操劳的、忧伤的都有规定的睡眠。
你该在坟墓中安息：然而，直到
你对庭院和荒郊的亲切错觉飞却，
你回忆、悔恨、思念都摆脱不了
一颗甜笑、两重嗓音交织的音乐。
To Harriet
Thy look of love has power to calm
The stormiest passion of my soul;
Thy gentle words are drops of balm
In life's too bitter bowl;
No grief is mine, but that alone
These choicest blessings I have known.
Harriet! if all who long to live
In the warm sunshine of thine eye,
That price beyond all pain must give,—
Beneath thy scorn to die;
Then hear thy chosen own too late
His heart most worthy of thy hate.
Be thou, then, one among mankind
Whose heart is harder not for state,
Thou only virtuous, gentle, kind,
Amid a world of hate;
And by a slight endurance seal
A fellow-being's lasting weal.
For pale with anguish is his cheek,
His breath comes fast, his eyes are dim,
Thy name is struggling ere he speak,
Weak is each trembling limb;
In mercy let him not endure
The misery of a fatal cure.
Oh, trust for once no erring guide!
Bid the remorseless feeling flee;
'Tis malice, 'tis revenge, 'tis pride,
'Tis anything but thee;
Oh, deign a nobler pride to prove,
And pity if thou canst not love.
致哈莉特
你含情的目光有力量平息
我灵魂中最狂暴的激情，
你温柔的话语，是一滴滴
滴入这人生苦杯的芳醇，
我仅有的悲哀，独独因为
我体验过这种珍贵的恩惠。
哈莉特！倘若要活在你那
温暖的目光下，就必须
付出超过一切痛苦的代价——
就该在你的轻蔑中死去；
请听你心上人过晚的供认：
他这颗心，只配你的憎恨。
即使你是在那种人类中间——
他们不为国事而心如铁石，
即使在一个充满恨的世界，
你也只该温良而且正直：
请稍许再用些微一点忍耐
成全一个同伴恒久的欢快。
他的面颊已因苦恼而憔悴，
他呼吸急促，目光模糊，
他的肢体抖颤，虚弱疲惫，
你的名字，他难从口出；
请发慈悲，别再让他承受
一次痛苦而且致命的疗救。
哦，请听一次不谬的规劝，
快让那冷酷的感情离去；
那是怨懑、报复，是傲慢，
是别的一切而不该是你；
请为一种高尚的骄傲证明：
当你不能爱时，还能怜悯。
To Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin
I
Mine eyes were dim with tears unshed;
Yes, I was firm—thus wert not thou;—
My baffled looks did fear yet dread
To meet thy looks—I could not know
How anxiously they sought to shine
With soothing pity upon mine.
II
To sit and curb the soul's mute rage
Which preys upon itself alone;
To curse the life which is the cage
Of fettered grief that dares not groan,
Hiding from many a careless eye
The scorned load of agony.
III
Whilst thou alone, then not regarded,
The … thou alone should be,
To spend years thus, and be rewarded,
As thou, sweet love, requited me
When none were near—Oh! I did wake
From torture for that moment's sake.
IV
Upon my heart thy accents sweet
Of peace and pity fell like dew
On flowers half dead;—thy lips did meet
Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw
Their soft persuasion on my brain,
Charming away its dream of pain.
V
We are not happy, sweet! our state
Is strange and full of doubt and fear;
More need of words that ills abate;—
Reserve or censure come not near
Our sacred friendship, lest there be
No solace left for thee and me.
VI
Gentle and good and mild thou art,
Nor can I live if thou appear
Aught but thyself, or turn thine heart
Away from me, or stoop to wear
The mask of scorn, although it be
To hide the love thou feel'st for me.
二
但能独坐，克制我灵魂的怒火，
愤怒，也只能是对它自己折磨；
但能诅咒如同牢笼枷锁的生活，
被囚禁的悲伤敢怒而不敢诉说，
在许许多多双无意留心的眼前
隐藏起令人厌恶的痛苦和辛酸。
三
你虽孤苦伶仃，无人挂在心头，
但是，惟有你才应该成为——，
这样度过的年月将会得到报酬，
就像你，亲爱的，给我以报偿，
当无人在我近旁：为了那一瞬，
哦，我从那痛苦的折磨中苏醒。
四
你平和而充满怜悯的甜美语音
落在我的心上，就仿佛是甘露
浇洒在垂危的花朵，你的芳唇
曾战栗着和我相吻，你的黑眼珠
把柔美的信念射入我的脑海中，
祛除尽了我脑海中痛苦的恶梦。
五
我们不快活，亲爱的，我们的
处境奇特，充满了疑问和忧虑；
更需要能减轻不幸的言词话语；——
切不可让指责或是隔阂接近于
我们神圣的友谊，以免我和你
再没有什么遗留下可藉以安慰。
六
亲爱的，你文雅、温柔、善良，
如果你看上去已不再是你自己，
是别种模样，或者你移情别向，
抑或是你竟委屈自己戴上面具
装作轻蔑，即使是为了掩饰你
对我的爱，我也难以再活下去。
To —
Oh! there are spirits of the air,
And genii of the evening breeze,
And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair
As star-beams among twilight trees: —
Such lovely ministers to meet
Oft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet.
With mountain winds, and babbling springs,
And moonlight seas, that are the voice
Of these inexplicable things,
Thou didst hold commune, and rejoice
When they did answer thee; but they
Cast, like a worthless boon, thy love away.
And thou hast sought in starry eyes
Beams that were never meant for thine,
Another's wealth: — tame sacrifice
To a fond faith! still dost thou pine?
Still dost thou hope that greeting hands,
Voice, looks, or lips, may answer thy demands?
Ah! wherefore didst thou build thine hope
On the false earth's inconstancy?
Did thine own mind afford no scope
Of love, or moving thoughts to thee?
That natural scenes or human smiles
Could steal the power to wind thee in their wiles?
Yes, all the faithless smiles are fled
Whose falsehood left thee broken-hearted;
The glory of the moon is dead;
Night's ghosts and dreams have now departed;
Thine own soul still is true to thee,
But changed to a foul fiend through misery.
This fiend, whose ghastly presence ever
Beside thee like thy shadow hangs,
Dream not to chase; —the mad endeavour
Would scourge thee to severer pangs.
Be as thou art. Thy settled fate,
Dark as it is, all change would aggravate.
和山间的清风与淙淙流泉，
和月下的海洋，和这类
不可理解事物的喉舌交谈，
得到一声应答便感欣慰。
然而，像摒弃廉价的礼品，
它们却摒弃你奉献的爱情。
你又在明亮如星的眼睛里
搜寻并非为你发的光辉——
那财富另有所归；妄想的
牺牲！仍在为相思憔悴？
仍在期望热情相迎的双手、
音容和唇吻满足你的企求？
啊，为什么要把希望建立
在虚伪世界的无常之上？
难道你的心灵就不能留些
余地给爱和动人的思想？
以致自然的景色人的颦笑
竟能使你落入它们的圈套。
是啊，不贞的笑已经消失，
它们的虚伪已使你心碎；
明月的华光已死，黑夜的
梦和鬼魅也都远走高飞；
你的灵魂，仍然忠实于你，
但是历尽酸辛已化为厉鬼。
这厉鬼将以它的恐怖永远
像影子伴随着你，切勿
梦想驱除：这疯狂的愚念
会陷你于更难堪的痛苦。
安份吧既定的命运虽阴暗，
改变却只会加深你的灾难。
Mutability
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!—yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
We rest.—A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise.—One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:
It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
会给多变的振动以多变的响应，
对这脆弱的乐器任何两次弹拨，
都奏不出相同一种情致和音韵。
入睡时一个梦就足以毒害安息，
起身后一念遐思又会败坏一天；
感觉、构思、推理、欢笑悲啼，
抱紧心爱的灾难或是摈弃忧烦：
全都一样！因为不论是喜是恼，
那离去的衢道，全都永远开敞；
人世的明日绝不会雷同于今朝，
万古不变的，却惟独只有无常。
On Death
The pale, the cold, and the moony smile
Which the meteor beam of a starless night
Sheds on a lonely and sea-girt isle,
Ere the dawning of morn's undoubted light,
Is the flame of life so fickle and wan
That flits round our steps till their strength is gone.
O man! hold thee on in courage of soul
Through the stormy shades of thy worldly way,
And the billows of cloud that around thee roll
Shall sleep in the light of a wondrous day,
Where Hell and Heaven shall leave thee free
To the universe of destiny.
This world is the nurse of all we know,
This world is the mother of all we feel,
And the coming of death is a fearful blow
To a brain unencompassed with nerves of steel;
When all that we know, or feel, or see,
Shall pass like an unreal mystery.
The secret things of the grave are there,
Where all but this frame must surely be,
Though the fine-wrought eye and the wondrous ear
No longer will live to hear or to see
All that is great and all that is strange
In the boundless realm of unending change.
Who telleth a tale of unspeaking death?
Who lifteth the veil of what is to come?
Who painteth the shadows that are beneath
The wide-winding caves of the peopled tomb?
Or uniteth the hopes of what shall be
With the fears and the love for that which we see?
照着我们的脚到举步的力量耗完。
哦，人啊！继续鼓起灵魂的勇气，
穿过那人世道路上狂乱的影子，
在你周围汹涌如潮的阴云和迷雾
将会在奇妙的一天明光中睡去。
那时天堂和地狱都将给你以自由
听任你无所拘束前往命定的宇宙。
这世界，是我们一切感觉的母亲，
这世界是我们一切知识的乳母，
对于那并非钢铁神经构成的心灵，
死亡到来的那一击，十分恐怖，
那时我们所知所觉和所见的一切
都要像虚幻的奇迹一样消失泯灭。
那时坟墓里隐秘的事物成为真实，
除了这副躯壳一切都必定成立，
虽然那神奇的耳朵和精明的眼睛
再也没有能力看、没有能力听
那广阔无垠、变化无常的王国里
所有那伟大的一切，新奇的一切。
谁，能讲述那无言的死亡的故事？
谁能揭开那遮掩着未来的帷幕？
谁，能描绘那挤满了尸体的地底
迷宫似的墓穴里的黑影的画图？
又是谁在把我们对于明日的希冀
和对眼前事物的爱与惧结成一体？
A Summer Evening Churchyard
Lechlade, Gloucestershire
The wind has swept from the wide atmosphere
Each vapour that obscured the sunset's ray;
And pallid Evening twines its beaming hair
In duskier braids around the languid eyes of Day:
Silence and Twilight, unbeloved of men,
Creep hand in hand from yon obscurest glen.
They breathe their spells towards the departing day,
Encompassing the earth, air, stars, and sea;
Light, sound, and motion own the potent sway,
Responding to the charm with its own mystery.
The winds are still, or the dry church-tower grass
Knows not their gentle motions as they pass.
Thou too, aëreal Pile! whose pinnacles
Point from one shrine like pyramids of fire,
Obeyest in silence their sweet solemn spells,
Clothing in hues of heaven thy dim and distant spire,
Around whose lessening and invisible height
Gather among the stars the clouds of night.
The dead are sleeping in their sepulchres:
And, mouldering as they sleep, a thrilling sound,
Half sense, half thought, among the darkness stirs,
Breathed from their wormy beds all living things around,
And mingling with the still night and mute sky
Its awful hush is felt inaudibly.
Thus solemnized and softened, death is mild
And terrorless as this serenest night:
Here could I hope, like some inquiring child
Sporting on graves, that death did hide from human sight
Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless sleep
That loveliest dreams perpetual watch did keep.
寂静和晦暝，虽不为人们喜爱，
正从远方的幽谷悄悄携手而来；
向离去的一天施展它们的魔法，
震摄着大地、空气、海和星辰；
声、光和运动都承认威力强大，
并且以自身的神秘力相与呼应。
风住了，否则就是钟楼上的草
对风过时的轻柔运动未能知晓。
空中的堆积云，你，也一样啊！
塔似的顶端像火焰升起在神殿，
默默地服从那甜美庄严的魔法，
天上色彩渲染着你高远的塔尖，
愈高愈小以至不见的尖顶四周，
星空里的夜色已愈来愈见浓稠。
死去的人们熟睡在他们的墓穴，
熟睡着腐朽；一种悦耳的音响，
若有若无，从他们生蛆的床位
散发到四周一切有生的物体上，
并且混入了沉默的天、寂静的夜，
令人敬畏的安谧无声却可感觉。
被赋予庄严和安宁的死亡也像
这恬静的夜，温柔而毫不恐怖；
我可否也像嬉戏坟头的儿童那样
好奇地期望，死神向人的耳目
确实隐瞒了神秘的好事，不然，
定有最美的梦永伴沉寂的长眠。
Lines
I
The cold earth slept below,
Above the cold sky shone;
And all around, with a chilling sound,
From caves of ice and fields of snow,
The breath of night like death did flow
Beneath the sinking moon.
II
The wintry hedge was black,
The green grass was not seen,
The birds did rest on the bare thorn's breast,
Whose roots, beside the pathway track,
Had bound their folds o'er many a crack
Which the frost had made between.
III
Thine eyes glowed in the glare
Of the moon's dying light;
As a fen-fire's beam on a sluggish stream
Gleams dimly, so the moon shone there,
And it yellowed the strings of thy raven hair,
That shook in the wind of night.
IV
The moon made thy lips pale, beloved—
The wind made thy bosom chill—
The night did shed on thy dear head
Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie
Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
Might visit thee at will.
二
冬季的篱垣是黑色的，
碧绿的青草不见踪迹，
鸟儿栖息在枝干裸露的荆棘的怀抱，
路边的树根纠缠交接，
联结着它们之间的那些
严寒冻成的龟裂。
三
月亮的明光就要熄灭，
你的眼睛被照得发亮；
像懒懒的河流上空一丛暗淡的磷火，
月亮在那里发出朦胧的幽辉；
你乌黑的头发在夜风中翻飞，
月光把它染黄。
四
月亮照得你的双唇惨白，
野风吹得你的胸脯冰凉，
夜把凝冻的露水倾泻在你秀美的头上，
你躺着的地方，亲爱的，
赤裸苍天的辛酸气息
随时可以来访。
The Sunset
There late was One within whose subtle being,
As light and wind within some delicate cloud
That fades amid the blue noon's burning sky,
Genius and death contended. None may know
The sweetness of the joy which made his breath
Fail, like the trances of the summer air,
When, with the Lady of his love, who then
First knew the unreserve of mingled being,
He walked along the pathway of a field
Which to the east a hoar wood shadowed o'er,
But to the west was open to the sky.
There now the sun had sunk, but lines of gold
Hung on the ashen clouds, and on the points
Of the far level grass and nodding flowers
And the old dandelion's hoary beard,
And, mingled with the shades of twilight, lay
On the brown massy woods—and in the east
The broad and burning moon lingeringly rose
Between the black trunks of the crowded trees,
While the faint stars were gathering overhead.—
'Is it not strange, Isabel,' said the youth,
'I never saw the sun? We will walk here
To-morrow; thou shalt look on it with me.'
That night the youth and lady mingled lay
In love and sleep—but when the morning came
The lady found her lover dead and cold.
Let none believe that God in mercy gave
That stroke. The lady died not, nor grew wild,
But year by year lived on—in truth I think
Her gentleness and patience and sad smiles,
And that she did not die, but lived to tend
Her agèd father, were a kind of madness,
If madness 'tis to be unlike the world.
For but to see her were to read the tale
Woven by some subtlest bard, to make hard hearts
Dissolve away in wisdom-working grief;—
Her eyes were black and lustreless and wan:
Her eyelashes were worn away with tears,
Her lips and cheeks were like things dead—so pale;
Her hands were thin, and through their wandering veins
And weak articulations might be seen
Day's ruddy light. The tomb of thy dead self
Which one vexed ghost inhabits, night and day,
Is all, lost child, that now remains of thee!
'Inheritor of more than earth can give,
Passionless calm and silence unreproved,
Whether the dead find, oh, not sleep! but rest,
And are the uncomplaining things they seem,
Or live, or drop in the deep sea of Love;
Oh, that like thine, mine epitaph were—Peace!'
This was the only moan she ever made.
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