中英对照雪莱

The flower that smiles today Tomorrow dies; All that we wish to say Tempts and then flies. What is this world’s delight? Lightning that mocks the night. Brief even as bright. 今天微笑的花朵 明日它便死去; 我们但愿留驻的 诱惑之后飞去。 人世间快乐究为何物? 恰如闪电嘲笑黑夜, 光亮一片,转瞬消逝。 Virtue, how frail it is! Friendship how rare! Love, how it sells poor bliss For proud despair! But we,though soon they fall, Survive their joy, and all Which ours we call. 美德何其脆弱! 友谊何其稀有! 爱情以不足道的幸福 轻易换取高傲的绝望! 它们很快跌落,而我们 活下去,再没有它们带来的欢乐, 没有我们称为“我们的”一切。 Whilst skies are blue and bright, Whilst flowers are gay, Whilst eyes that change ere night Make glad the day; Whilst yet the calm hours creep Dream thou and from thy sleep Then wake up to weep. 趁天空还蔚蓝光明 趁花朵还娇艳芳菲, 趁黑夜未到,眼睛 能看到白日的美好, 趁平静还在缓缓流淌, 入梦吧,待从梦中醒来 再哭泣。 雪莱致云雀(中英文) To a Skylark by Percy Bysshe Shelley雪莱致云雀 Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! Bird thou never wert, That from Heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun O'er which clouds are bright'ning, Thou dost float and run, Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. The pale purple even Melts around thy flight; Like a star of Heaven In the broad daylight Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight: Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear Until we hardly see--we feel that it is there. All the earth and air With thy voice is loud. As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed. What thou art we know not; What is most like thee? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower: Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view: Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass. Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. Chorus hymeneal Or triumphal chaunt Matched with thine, would be all But an empty vaunt-- A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. What objects are the fountains What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be: Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. Waking or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow The world should listen then, as I am listening now! 致云雀 你好, 欢乐的精灵! 你压根儿不像飞鸟, 你从天堂或天堂附近 毫不吝惜地倾倒 如同行云流水一般的心灵的曲调。你就像一朵火云, 从地面升腾而起, 上升呵又复上升, 飞到蓝色的天际, 歌唱中不断翱翔, 翱翔中歌声不止。 沉入西山的夕阳, 喷散金色的光焰, 把朵朵云霞映亮, 你像无形的欢颜, 刚刚踏上征途, 飘浮而又飞旋。 淡淡的紫色的暮云 在你航程周围消溶, 你像天空的一颗星辰, 在明亮的白昼之中, 虽然隐形, 我却听到你强烈的欢腾, 就像银色的天体 射出一支支利箭, 在清朗的曙色里, 它的明灯渐渐变暗, 直至看不见, 可我们感到它就在眼前。整个天空和大地 响彻着你的歌声, 恰似夜空明净之时, 月亮透过一片孤云, 洒下银光, 让清辉漫溢于整个天庭。 我们不知你是什么; 什么东西最像你? 从彩虹般的云朵 泻出的晶莹雨滴, 也比不上你的甘霖一般的旋律。 就像是一位诗人 藏身于思想之光, 以心甘情愿的歌吟, 来把世界激荡, 让它去同情它未曾注意的忧患和希望。 就像是名门闺秀 居住在深宫高阁, 为排遣爱的忧愁, 一到幽静的时刻, 便让闺阁荡漾着甜如爱情的音乐。 就像金色的萤火虫 栖身凝露的山谷, 它在花草丛中, 扩散空灵的光束, 它不为人们所见, 因为被花草遮住! 又像一朵玫瑰花, 她在绿叶中安睡, 遇到热风的糟蹋, 直至她的芳菲 以过份的甜蜜灌醉了鲁笨的飞贼。 春雨声响清脆, 落在闪光的草地, 被雨滴唤醒的花卉, 还有其他的东西, 虽然明澈、清新、欢愉, 却不及你的乐曲。无论你是精灵还是鸟雀, 都请你把美妙的思想 教给我们; 我从未领略: 对爱情或美酒的赞扬 会倾泻出潮水般的心荡神驰的欢畅。 无论婚歌的欢快, 或凯旋曲的豪放, 比起你的歌来, 不过是空洞的夸张, 只让人们感到, 其中缺乏真情实感□ 什么样儿的物体 是你欢歌的源泉? 何种波涛、山峦、田地? 怎样的天空或平原? 是出自独特的爱情, 还是与痛苦无缘? 有你清朗的欢欣, 不会再有倦怠, 烦恼郁闷的阴影 决不会向你袭来; 你爱, 但永不知道令人厌腻的爱的悲哀。无论沉睡还是苏醒, 你对死的理解, 比我们这些凡人 更加透彻、真切, 否则, 你的歌怎会流得这般晶莹清澈? 我们左顾右盼, 渴求虚无之物, 我们最真诚的笑颜 也包含几分凄楚, 我们最甜美的歌曲倾诉最悲哀的思绪。纵然我们能够摈斥 仇恨、傲慢和恐惧, 纵然从出生之日, 就不曾抛洒泪滴, 我也不知怎样才能够贴近你的欢愉。 一切诗歌的韵律 都比不上你的音响, 一切本的知识 都比不上你的宝藏, 地面的蔑视者啊, 你的诗艺举世无双。你必定熟知的欢愉 哪怕教给我一半, 那么, 和谐的狂喜 就会在我唇边弥漫, 世界将会侧耳细听, 就像我现在这般。------分隔线---------------------------- [英]雪莱《致云雀》(中英文对照) 江枫译 你好啊,欢乐的精灵! 你似乎从不是飞禽, 从天堂或天堂的邻近, 以酣畅淋漓的乐音, 不事雕琢的艺术,倾吐你的衷心。 向上,再向高处飞翔, 从地面你一跃而上, 象一片烈火的轻云, 掠过蔚蓝的天心, 永远歌唱着飞翔,飞翔着歌唱。 地平线下的太阳, 放射出金色的电光, 晴空里霞蔚云蒸, 你沐浴着阳光飞行, 似不具形体的喜悦刚开始迅疾的远征。淡淡的紫色黎明 在你航程周围消融, 象昼空里的星星, 虽然不见形影, 却可以听得清你那欢乐的强音—— 那犀利无比的乐音, 似银色星光的利箭, 它那强烈的明灯, 在晨曦中暗淡, 直到难以分辨,却能感觉到就在空间。整个大地和大气, 响彻你婉转的歌喉, 仿佛在荒凉的黑夜, 从一片孤云背后, 明月射出光芒,清辉洋溢宇宙。 我们不知,你是什么, 什么和你最为相似? 从霓虹似的彩霞 也降不下这样美的雨, 能和当你出现时降下的乐曲甘霖相比。象一位诗人,隐身 在思想的明辉之中, 吟诵着即兴的诗韵, 直到普天下的同情 都被未曾留意过的希望和忧虑唤醒。象一位高贵的少女, 居住在深宫的楼台, 在寂寞难言的时刻, 排遣她为爱所苦的情怀, 甜美有如爱情的歌曲,溢出闺阁之外;象一只金色的萤火虫, 在凝露的深山幽谷, 不显露它的行踪, 把晶莹的流光传播, 在遮断我们视线的芳草鲜花丛中; 象一朵让自己的绿叶 阴蔽着的玫瑰, 遭受到热风的摧残, 直到它的芳菲 以过浓的香甜使鲁莽的飞贼沉醉;晶莹闪烁的草地, 春霖洒落的声息, 雨后苏醒的花瓣, 称得上明朗,欢悦, 清新的一切,都不及你的音乐。飞禽或是精灵,有什么 甜美的思绪在你心头? 我从没有听到过 爱情或是淳酒的颂歌 能够迸涌出这样神圣的极乐音流。赞婚的合唱也罢, 凯旋的欢歌也罢, 和你的乐曲相比, 不过是空调的浮夸, 人们可以觉察,其中总有着贫乏。什么样的物象或事件, 是你欢乐乐曲的源泉? 什么田野、波涛、山峦? 什么空中陆上的形态? 是你对同类的爱,还是对痛苦的绝缘?有你明澈强烈的欢快。 倦怠永不会出现, 烦恼的阴影从来 近不得你的身边, 你爱,却从不知晓过分充满爱的悲哀。是醒来或是睡去, 你对死的理解一定比 我们凡人梦想到的 更加深刻真切,否则 你的乐曲音流,怎能象液态的水晶涌泻?我们瞻前顾后,为了 不存在的事物自扰, 我们最真挚的笑, 也交织着某种苦恼, 我们最美的音乐是最能倾诉哀思的曲调。可是,即使我们能摈弃 憎恨、傲慢和恐惧, 即使我们生来不会 抛洒一滴眼泪, 我也不知,怎能接近于你的欢愉。 比一切欢乐的音律 更加甜蜜美妙, 比一切书中的宝库 更加丰盛富饶, 这就是鄙弃尘土的你啊,你的艺术技巧。 教给我一半,你的心 必定熟知的欢欣, 和谐、炽热的激情 就会流出我的双唇, 全世界就会象此刻的我——侧耳倾听。 To a Skylark HAIL to thee, blithe spirit! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher &nsp; From the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are bright'ning, Thou dost float and run, Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. The pale purple even Melts around thy flight; Like a star of heaven In the broad daylight, Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight— Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there. All the earth and air With thy voice is loud— As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflow'd. What thou art we know not; What is most like thee?— From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see As from thy presence showers a rain of melody: Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soulin secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower: Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view: Like a rose embower'd In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflower'd, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingèd thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awaken'd flowers— All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass. Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. Chorus hymeneal, Or triumphal chaunt, Match'd with thine, would be all But an empty vaunt— A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be; Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest; but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. Waking or asleep, font face="宋体,sans-serif" size="4"> Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know— Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now! 1 你可会忘记那快乐的时刻, 被我们在爱之亭榭下埋没? 对着那冰冷的尸体,我们铺下 不是青苔,而是叶子和鲜花。 呵,鲜花是失去的快乐, 叶子是希望,还依然留贮。 2 你可忘了那逝去的?它可有 一些幽灵,会出来替它复仇! 它有记忆,会把心变为坟墓, 还有悔恨,溜进精神底浓雾 会对你阴沉地低声说: 快乐一旦消失,就是痛苦。 1 Wilt thou forget the happy hours Which we buried in love`s sweet bowers, Heaping over their corpses cold Blossoms and leaves,instead of mould? Blossoms which were the joys that fell, And leaves,the hopes that yet remain. 2 Forget the dead,the past?Oh,yet There are ghosts that may take revenge for it, Memories that make the heart a tomb, Regret which glide through the spirit`s gloom, And with ghastly whispers tell That joy,once lost,is pain. 拜伦 想从前我们俩分手 “when we two parted” 雅典的少女 “maid of athens, ere we part” 只要再克制一下 “one struggle more, and i am free” 无痛而终 euthanasia 你死了 “and thou art dead, as young and fair”她走在美的光彩中 “she walks in beauty” 我的心灵是阴沉的 “my soul is dark” 我看过你哭 “i saw thee weep” 乐章 stanzas for music 乐章 stanzas for music 普罗米修斯 prometheus 好吧,我们不再一起漫游 “so we’ll go no more a-roving” 致托玛斯?摩尔 thomas moore 写于佛罗伦萨至比萨途中 stanzas written on the road between florence and pisa 今天我度过了三十六年 on this day i complete my thirty-sixth year p.b.雪莱 诗章 stanzas. —april, 1814 无常 mutability on death 夏日黄昏的墓园 a summer evening churchyard “那时刻永远逝去了,孩子!” lines 亚平宁山道 passage of the apennines 往昔 the past 咏一朵枯萎的紫罗兰 on a faded violet 招苦难 invocation to misery “别揭开这画帷” sonnet 西风颂 ode to the west wind 印度小夜曲 the indian serenade 爱的哲学 love’s philosophy the cloud 给云雀 to a skylark 阿波罗礼赞 hymn of apollo 秋:葬歌 autumn: a dirg 拜伦 她走在美的光彩中 1 她走在美的光彩中,像夜晚皎洁无云而且繁星满天;明与暗的最美妙的色泽 在她的仪容和秋波里呈现:耀目的白天只嫌光太强, 它比那光亮柔和而幽暗。2 增加或减少一分明与暗 就会损害这难言的美, 美波动在她乌黑的发上, 或者散布淡淡的光辉 在那脸庞,恬静的思绪 指明它的来处纯洁而珍贵。 3 呵,那额际,那鲜艳的面颊, 如此温和,平静,而又脉脉含情,那迷人的微笑,那容颜的光彩, 都在说明一个善良的生命: 她的头脑安于世间的一切, 她的心充溢着真纯的爱情! 1814年6月12日 普罗米修斯① 1 巨人!在你不朽的眼睛看来 人寰所受的苦痛 是种种可悲的实情, 并不该为诸神蔑视、不睬; 但你的悲悯得到什么报酬? 是默默的痛楚,凝聚心头; 是面对着岩石,饿鹰和枷锁, 是骄傲的人才感到的痛苦: 还有他不愿透露的心酸, 那郁积胸中的苦情一段, 它只能在孤寂时吐露, 而就在吐露时,也得提防万一天上有谁听见,更不能叹息,除非它没有回音答复。 2 巨人呵!你被注定了要辗转在痛苦和你的意志之间, 不能致死,却要历尽磨难;而那木然无情的上天, 那“命运”的耳聋的王座, 那至高的“憎恨”的原则 (它为了游戏创造出一切,然后又把造物一一毁灭),甚至不给你死的幸福; “永恒”——这最不幸的天赋是你的:而你却善于忍受 司雷的大神逼出了你什么?除了你给他的一句诅咒: 你要报复被系身的折磨。你能够推知未来的命运, 但却不肯说出求得和解;你的沉默成了他的判决, 他的灵魂正枉然地悔恨: 呵,他怎能掩饰那邪恶的惊悸,他手中的电闪一直在颤栗。 3 你神圣的罪恶是怀有仁心, 你要以你的教训 减轻人间的不幸, 并且振奋起人自立的精神; 尽管上天和你蓄意为敌, 但你那抗拒强暴的毅力, 你那百折不挠的灵魂—— 天上和人间的暴风雨 怎能摧毁你的果敢的坚忍!你给了我们有力的教训: 你是一个标记,一个征象, 标志着人的命运和力量; 和你相同,人也有神的一半,是浊流来自圣洁的源泉; 人也能 A great poem is a fountain forever overflowing with the waters of wisdom and delight (P.B.Shelley, British poet)伟大的诗篇即是永远喷出智慧和欢欣之水的喷泉。(英国诗人雪莱P B)A novel is a mirror walking along a main road. (Stendhcl,French writer)一部小说犹如一面在大街上走的镜子。(法国作家司汤达)A picture is a poem without words. (Horace, ancient Roman poet)一幅画是一首没有文字的诗歌。(古罗马诗人贺拉斯)A poet is a man who puts up a ladder to a star and climbs it while playing a violin. (E.de Goncourt, French writer)诗人是这样的人,他架起通向星星的梯子