Ode To A Nightingale
John Keats
夜莺颂
济慈
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk
我的心痛，困顿和麻木
毒害了感官，犹如饮过毒鸩，
又似刚把鸦片吞服，
一分钟的时间，字句在忘川中沉没
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,--
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
并不是在嫉妒你的幸运，
是为着你的幸运而大感快乐，
你，林间轻翅的精灵，
在山毛榉绿影下的情结中，
放开了歌喉，歌唱夏季。
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim
哎，一口酒！那冷藏
在地下多年的甘醇，
味如花神、绿土、
舞蹈、恋歌和灼热的欢乐！
哎，满满一杯南方的温暖，
充满了鲜红的灵感之泉，
杯沿闪动着珍珠的泡沫，
和唇边退去的紫色；
我要一饮以不见尘世，
与你循入森林幽暗的深处
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
远远的离开，消失，彻底忘记
林中的你从不知道的，
疲惫、热病和急躁
这里，人们坐下并听着彼此的呻吟；
瘫痪摇动了一会儿，悲伤了，最后的几丝白发，
青春苍白，古怪的消瘦下去，后来死亡；
铅色的眼睛绝望着；
美人守不住明眸，
新的恋情过不完明天。
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
去吧！去吧！我要飞向你，
不用酒神的车辗和他的随从，
乘着诗歌无形的翅膀，
尽管这混沌的头脑早已跟随你，
夜色温柔，而月后
正登上她的宝座，
周围是她所有的星星仙子，
但这处那处都没有光，
一些天光被微风吹入幽绿，
和青苔的曲径。
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
我不能看清是哪些花在我的脚旁，
何种软香悬于高枝，
但在温馨的暗处，猜测每一种甜蜜
以其时令的赠与
青草地、灌木丛、野果树
白山楂和田园玫瑰；
叶堆中易谢的紫罗兰；
还有五与中旬的首出，
这啜满了露酒的麝香蔷薇，
夏夜蝇子嗡嗡的出没其中。
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain--
To thy high requiem become a sod.
我倾听黑夜，多少次
我几乎爱上了逸谧的死亡，
在如此多的沉思之韵中呼唤她轻柔的名，
编织成歌，我无声的呼吸；
现在她更加华丽的死去，
在午夜不带悲伤的飞升，
当你正向外倾泻灵魂
这般的迷狂！
你仍唱着，而我听不见，
你那高昂的安魂曲对着一搓泥土。
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:--Do I wake or sleep?
永生的鸟啊！你不为了死亡出生！
饥饿的时代无法把你蹂躏；
这逝去的夜晚里我所听见的
在那远古的日子也曾为帝王和小丑听见；
可能相同的歌在露丝那颗忧愁的心中
找到了一条路径，当她思念故乡，
站在异邦的谷田中落泪；
这声音常常
在遗失的仙城中震动了窗扉
望向泡沫浪花
遗失！这个字如同一声钟响
把我从你处带会我单独自我！
别了！幻想无法继续欺骗
当她不再能够，
别了！别了！你哀伤的圣歌
退入了后面的草地，流过溪水，
涌上山坡；而此时，它正深深
埋在下一个山谷的阴影中：
是幻觉，还是梦寐？
那歌声去了：我醒了？我睡着？
————————————————————
再附一首代表作： La Belle sans Merci:A Ballad
1
O what can ail thee,kings at arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.
2
O what can ail thee,kings at arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the Harvest's done.
3
I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever dew,
And no thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withered too.
4
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful,and a fairy's child;
Her hair was long,her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
5
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too,and Fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
6
I set her on my pacing street,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend,and sing
A fairy's song.
7
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild,and manna dew,
And sure in languages strange she said--
I love thee true.
8
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept,and sigh'd full score,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.
9
And there she lulled me asleep,
And there I dream'd--Ah!Woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dream'd
On the cold hill's side.
10
I saw pale kings,and princes too,
Pale warriors,death pale were they all;
They cried--'La belle dame sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!'
11
I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here
On the cold hill's side.
12
And this in why I sojourned here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge has wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.
——————————————————————————
To Autumn
by John Keats J.
1
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun,
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
2
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair sort-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Dows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers.
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
3
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a waiful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles form a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
秋颂
1
雾气洋溢、果实圆熟的秋，
你和成熟的太阳成为友伴；
你们密谋用累累的珠球，
缀满茅屋檐下的葡萄藤蔓；
使屋前的老树背负着苹果，
让熟味透进果实的心中，
使葫芦胀大，鼓起了榛子壳，
好塞进甜核；又为了蜜蜂
一次一次开放过迟的花朵，
使它们以为日子将永远暖和，
因为夏季早填满它们的粘巢。
2
谁不经常看见你伴着谷仓？
在田野里也可以把你找到，
弥有时随意坐在打麦场上，
让发丝随着簸谷的风轻飘；
有时候，为罂粟花香所沉迷，
你倒卧在收割一半的田垄，
让镰刀歇在下一畦的花旁；
或者．像拾穗人越过小溪，
你昂首背着谷袋，投下倒影，
或者就在榨果架下坐几点钟，
你耐心地瞧着徐徐滴下的酒浆。
3
啊．春日的歌哪里去了？但不要
想这些吧，你也有你的音乐——
当波状的云把将逝的一天映照，
以胭红抹上残梗散碎的田野，
这时啊，河柳下的一群小飞虫
就同奏哀音，它们忽而飞高，
忽而下落，随着微风的起灭；
篱下的蟋蟀在歌唱，在园中
红胸的知更鸟就群起呼哨；
而群羊在山圈里高声默默咩叫；
丛飞的燕子在天空呢喃不歇。
John Keats
夜莺颂
济慈
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk
我的心痛，困顿和麻木
毒害了感官，犹如饮过毒鸩，
又似刚把鸦片吞服，
一分钟的时间，字句在忘川中沉没
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,--
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
并不是在嫉妒你的幸运，
是为着你的幸运而大感快乐，
你，林间轻翅的精灵，
在山毛榉绿影下的情结中，
放开了歌喉，歌唱夏季。
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim
哎，一口酒！那冷藏
在地下多年的甘醇，
味如花神、绿土、
舞蹈、恋歌和灼热的欢乐！
哎，满满一杯南方的温暖，
充满了鲜红的灵感之泉，
杯沿闪动着珍珠的泡沫，
和唇边退去的紫色；
我要一饮以不见尘世，
与你循入森林幽暗的深处
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
远远的离开，消失，彻底忘记
林中的你从不知道的，
疲惫、热病和急躁
这里，人们坐下并听着彼此的呻吟；
瘫痪摇动了一会儿，悲伤了，最后的几丝白发，
青春苍白，古怪的消瘦下去，后来死亡；
铅色的眼睛绝望着；
美人守不住明眸，
新的恋情过不完明天。
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
去吧！去吧！我要飞向你，
不用酒神的车辗和他的随从，
乘着诗歌无形的翅膀，
尽管这混沌的头脑早已跟随你，
夜色温柔，而月后
正登上她的宝座，
周围是她所有的星星仙子，
但这处那处都没有光，
一些天光被微风吹入幽绿，
和青苔的曲径。
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
我不能看清是哪些花在我的脚旁，
何种软香悬于高枝，
但在温馨的暗处，猜测每一种甜蜜
以其时令的赠与
青草地、灌木丛、野果树
白山楂和田园玫瑰；
叶堆中易谢的紫罗兰；
还有五与中旬的首出，
这啜满了露酒的麝香蔷薇，
夏夜蝇子嗡嗡的出没其中。
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain--
To thy high requiem become a sod.
我倾听黑夜，多少次
我几乎爱上了逸谧的死亡，
在如此多的沉思之韵中呼唤她轻柔的名，
编织成歌，我无声的呼吸；
现在她更加华丽的死去，
在午夜不带悲伤的飞升，
当你正向外倾泻灵魂
这般的迷狂！
你仍唱着，而我听不见，
你那高昂的安魂曲对着一搓泥土。
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:--Do I wake or sleep?
永生的鸟啊！你不为了死亡出生！
饥饿的时代无法把你蹂躏；
这逝去的夜晚里我所听见的
在那远古的日子也曾为帝王和小丑听见；
可能相同的歌在露丝那颗忧愁的心中
找到了一条路径，当她思念故乡，
站在异邦的谷田中落泪；
这声音常常
在遗失的仙城中震动了窗扉
望向泡沫浪花
遗失！这个字如同一声钟响
把我从你处带会我单独自我！
别了！幻想无法继续欺骗
当她不再能够，
别了！别了！你哀伤的圣歌
退入了后面的草地，流过溪水，
涌上山坡；而此时，它正深深
埋在下一个山谷的阴影中：
是幻觉，还是梦寐？
那歌声去了：我醒了？我睡着？
————————————————————
再附一首代表作： La Belle sans Merci:A Ballad
1
O what can ail thee,kings at arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.
2
O what can ail thee,kings at arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the Harvest's done.
3
I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever dew,
And no thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withered too.
4
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful,and a fairy's child;
Her hair was long,her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
5
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too,and Fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
6
I set her on my pacing street,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend,and sing
A fairy's song.
7
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild,and manna dew,
And sure in languages strange she said--
I love thee true.
8
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept,and sigh'd full score,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.
9
And there she lulled me asleep,
And there I dream'd--Ah!Woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dream'd
On the cold hill's side.
10
I saw pale kings,and princes too,
Pale warriors,death pale were they all;
They cried--'La belle dame sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!'
11
I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here
On the cold hill's side.
12
And this in why I sojourned here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge has wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.
——————————————————————————
To Autumn
by John Keats J.
1
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun,
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
2
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair sort-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Dows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers.
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
3
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a waiful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles form a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
秋颂
1
雾气洋溢、果实圆熟的秋，
你和成熟的太阳成为友伴；
你们密谋用累累的珠球，
缀满茅屋檐下的葡萄藤蔓；
使屋前的老树背负着苹果，
让熟味透进果实的心中，
使葫芦胀大，鼓起了榛子壳，
好塞进甜核；又为了蜜蜂
一次一次开放过迟的花朵，
使它们以为日子将永远暖和，
因为夏季早填满它们的粘巢。
2
谁不经常看见你伴着谷仓？
在田野里也可以把你找到，
弥有时随意坐在打麦场上，
让发丝随着簸谷的风轻飘；
有时候，为罂粟花香所沉迷，
你倒卧在收割一半的田垄，
让镰刀歇在下一畦的花旁；
或者．像拾穗人越过小溪，
你昂首背着谷袋，投下倒影，
或者就在榨果架下坐几点钟，
你耐心地瞧着徐徐滴下的酒浆。
3
啊．春日的歌哪里去了？但不要
想这些吧，你也有你的音乐——
当波状的云把将逝的一天映照，
以胭红抹上残梗散碎的田野，
这时啊，河柳下的一群小飞虫
就同奏哀音，它们忽而飞高，
忽而下落，随着微风的起灭；
篱下的蟋蟀在歌唱，在园中
红胸的知更鸟就群起呼哨；
而群羊在山圈里高声默默咩叫；
丛飞的燕子在天空呢喃不歇。