狄蘭·托馬斯詩選譯 Poems by Dylan Thomas
2008-02-20 10:19:56
8677Dylan Thomas (27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953) was a Welsh poet. He is regarded by many as one of the 20th century's most influential poets. Apart from writing poems, Thomas also wrote short stories and scripts for film and radio, with the latter medium, especially, performed by Thomas himself. His public readings, particularly in America, won him great acclaim. May 1953, saw the World Premiere of Thomas' play, Under Milk Wood. The play itself was a great triumph, and because of this, Thomas was asked to work on the libretto of an opera for the composer, Igor Stravinsky. It was also around this time that Thomas' health rapidly began to deteriorate as a result of his drinking; he was warned by his doctor to give up alcohol but he carried on regardless. Just a few days after he celebrated his 39th birthday, he collapsed and slipped into a coma in his room at the Hotel Chelsea, New York. Dylan Thomas died 4 days later.
狄蘭·托馬斯，1914年10月27日出生於威爾士。二十世紀最具影響力的英語詩人之一。雖然狄蘭主要是位詩人，他亦出版電影劇本和短篇小說，並公開演出自己的作品及在電台播音。托馬斯曾數次訪美，並以其狂放的朗誦才能在美國引起轟動。1953年，他的劇作《牛奶樹下》公演取得了成功，並因此被邀請去美國，與作曲家斯特拉文斯基共同創作一部歌劇。而此時托馬斯的健康卻因酗酒每況愈下，但他不肯聽從醫生的勸告戒酒。結果在他剛慶祝完39歲生日後不久，於紐約醉酒而死。
二十四年
二十四年令淚水想起我的眼睛。
（埋葬死者以免她們在陣痛中步向墳地。）
我曾蹲在天然門廊的腹溝裏，
像個裁縫，藉食肉太陽的光，
縫制一件旅行用的壽衣。
盛裝就死，肉欲之徜徉已開始，
我的紅色血管裏滿是金錢，
朝著小鎮最後的方向
我永久地前行。
Twenty-Four Years
Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes.
(Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave ln labour.)
In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailor
Sewing a shroud for a journey
By the light of the meat-eating sun.
Dressed to die, the sensual strut begun,
With my red veins full of money,
In the final direction of the elementary town
I advance for as long as forever is.
我的技藝或沉鬱的藝術
在平靜的夜裏施展，
當只有月亮在發怒
而戀人們躺在床上
抱著他們所有的悲苦，
我在吟唱的燈光下潛心於
我的技藝或沉鬱的藝術，
不是為了抱負或面包，
也不是為了在象牙舞台上
賣弄風騷，昂首闊步，
是為了他們最隱秘的心
這尋常的薪金。
除了惱怒的月亮，
我不會為那得意的人
在這些風起浪湧的紙張上抒寫，
也不為有夜鶯和聖歌
作伴的高聳的死人，
而只為戀人們，他們的臂膀
擁抱歲月的悲苦，
既不給以贊美或薪金，
也不會留意我的技藝或藝術。
In My Craft or Sullen Art
In my craft or sullen art
Exercised in the still night
When only the moon rages
And the lovers lie abed
With all their griefs in their arms,
I labour by singing light
Not for ambition or bread
Or the strut and trade of charms
On the ivory stages
But for the common wages
Of their most secret heart.
Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art.
塔樓中的耳朵聽見
塔樓中的耳朵聽見
手在門上轟鳴
山牆裏的眼睛看見
弄門鎖的手指
我該開門還是
孤零零地等到我在這棟
白色房子裏死去的那天
而不讓陌生的眼睛發現？
手啊，你拿著的是毒藥還是葡萄？
在這被肌肉之海
和骨頭海岸綁住
的島嶼那一邊，
土地位於聲音之外
山丘位於心智之外
沒有鳥或飛行的魚
會打擾這島嶼的安寜。
這島嶼中的耳朵聽見
風像火一樣吹過
這島嶼中的眼睛看見
船隻停泊在海灣
我該帶著頭髮裏的風
奔向那些船
還是等到我死去的那天
而不去迎接任何水手？
船啊，你裝載的是毒藥還是葡萄？
手在門上轟鳴
船隻停泊在海灣
雨水敲打沙地和石板，
我該不該讓那陌生人進來，
我該不該去迎接那水手，
或是等到我死去的那天？
陌生人的手和那些船的貨艙，
你們帶來的是毒藥還是葡萄？
Ears In The Turrets Hear
Ears in the turrets hear
Hands grumble on the door,
Eyes in the gables see
The fingers at the locks.
Shall I unbolt or stay
Alone till the day I die
Unseen by stranger-eyes
In this white house?
Hands, hold you poison or grapes?
Beyond this island bound
By a thin sea of flesh
And a bone coast,
The land lies out of sound
And the hills out of mind.
No birds or flying fish
Disturbs this island's rest.
Ears in this island hear
The wind pass like a fire,
Eyes in this island see
Ships anchor off the bay.
Shall I run to the ships
With the wind in my hair,
Or stay till the day I die
And welcome no sailor?
Ships, hold you poison or grapes?
Hands grumble on the door,
Ships anchor off the bay,
Rain beats the sand and slates.
Shall I let in the stranger,
Shall I welcome the sailor,
Or stay till the day I die?
Hands of the stranger and holds of the ships,
Hold you poison or grapes?
不要溫和地走入那良夜
不要溫和地走入那良夜，
老年人應該燃燒並對著日暮呼喊；
怒斥、怒斥那光明的微滅。
盡管聰明人臨終時知道黑暗正確，
因為他們的話語沒有迸出閃電，
他們並不溫和地走入那良夜。
好人，當最後一浪湧過，高呼他們脆弱的功業
本可以很光輝地起舞於綠色的海灣，
也怒斥、怒斥那光明的微滅。
狂放的人抓住並歌唱過太陽的飛越，
意識到，太晚了，他們曾使它在途中哀嘆，
他們也並不溫和地走入那良夜。
沉穩的人，臨死時用眩目的視覺
看到瞎眼也能像流星般閃耀而欣歡，
也怒斥、怒斥那光明的微滅。
而您呀，我的父親，身處高度的悲切，
請用您的熱淚詛咒、祝福我，我祈願。
不要溫和地走入那良夜，
怒斥、怒斥那光明的微滅。
DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
原載《詩天空》
我對墓穴裏的那些家夥所有的虧欠
我對墓穴裏的那些家夥所有的虧欠
和由蒼白財產遺贈的全部死者
存放在好運的骨頭，盛血的燒瓶裏，
像山扁豆葉一樣沿著殘敗的根莖輕微地騷動。
噢，我所虧欠的有我遺傳到的肉體，
拉扯我神經的我父親的愛，
在我頭上唱歌的我姊妹的淚
給我傷口添鹽的我兄弟的血
我是裝著愛的水滴的滾燙血管的繼承人，
我憔悴的血管裝滿了，帶有死亡的跡像，
我是敏銳感官的繼承人，只這感官便令肉體
熟悉了一種不會忘記的麻癢，
我圍著這遺產繞行猶如太陽圍著他那
有酒味的天空繞行一樣，而月亮就像蠟燭
照亮了我的氣候。我是那些婦人
的繼承人，她們已擠出了最後的笑容，
我是那些用一場瘟疫喂大的孩子們的繼承人，
我是那些在激吻中垂死的年輕崇拜者的繼承人。
所有這樣的疾病我在我的血液中醫治，
而所有這樣的愛是在呼吸中播種出來的灌木。
那就看看吧，我的眼睛，看著這遲鈍的財富
隨便看下死者的種種姿勢；
日夜不停我從墳墓裏透過向右的潛望鏡
觀察衣衫襤褸的地球；
日夜不停我穿著這些在老化的肋骨上
滋蔓的相同的蠟衣漫步；
一整夜我的財富卷著被單安睡。
那就看看吧，我的眼睛，看著這鮮紅的珍藏物，
也看看吧，我的榖粒，看著這下垂的麥子；
一整夜我的財富卷著被單安睡。
All That I Owe the Fellows of the Grave
All that I owe the fellows of the grave
And all the dead bequeathed from pale estates
Lies in the fortuned bone, the flask of blood,
Like senna stirs along the ravaged roots.
O all I owe is all the flesh inherits,
My fathers' loves that pull upon my nerves,
My sisters tears that sing upon my head
My brothers' blood that salts my open wounds
Heir to the scalding veins that hold love's drop,
My fallen filled, that had the hint of death,
Heir to the telling senses that alone
Acquaint the flesh with a remembered itch,
I round this heritage as rounds the sun
His winy sky, and , as the candles moon,
Cast light upon my weather. I am heir
To women who have twisted their last smile,
To children who were suckled on a plague,
To young adorers dying on a kiss.
All such disease I doctor in my blood,
And all such love's a shrub sown in the breath.
Then look, my eyes, upon this bonehead fortune
And browse upon the postures of the dead;
All night and day I eye the ragged globe
Through periscopes rightsighted from the grave;
All night and day I wander in these same
Wax clothes that wax upon the ageing ribs;
All night my fortune slumbers in its sheet.
Then look, my heart, upon the scarlet trove,
And look, my grain, upon the falling wheat;
All night my fortune slumbers in its sheet.
