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- 主题发起人 lemon25
- 发布时间 2008-03-23
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回复: 2005年北京Case议事大厅~柠檬花园/第十山地师
勃朗宁夫人抒情十四行诗集第一首
我想起，当年希腊的诗人曾经歌咏：
I thought once how Theocritus had sung
年复一年，那良辰在殷切的盼望中
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
翩然降临，各自带一份礼物
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
分送给世人－－年老或是年少。
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
当我这么想，感叹着诗人的古调，
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
穿过我泪眼所逐渐展开的幻觉，
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
我看见，那欢乐的岁月、哀伤的岁月－－
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
我自己的年华，把一片片黑影接连着
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
掠过我的身。紧接着，我就觉察
A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware,
（我哭了）我背后正有个神秘的黑影
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
在移动，而且一把揪住了我的发，
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;
往后拉，还有一声吆喝（我只是在挣扎）：
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, --
“这回是谁逮住了你？猜！”“死，”我答话。
`Guess now who holds thee?' -- `Death.' I said. But, there
听哪，那银铃似的回音：“不是死，是爱！”
The silver answer rang, -- `Not Death, but love.'
勃朗宁夫人抒情十四行诗集第一首
我想起，当年希腊的诗人曾经歌咏：
I thought once how Theocritus had sung
年复一年，那良辰在殷切的盼望中
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
翩然降临，各自带一份礼物
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
分送给世人－－年老或是年少。
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
当我这么想，感叹着诗人的古调，
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
穿过我泪眼所逐渐展开的幻觉，
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
我看见，那欢乐的岁月、哀伤的岁月－－
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
我自己的年华，把一片片黑影接连着
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
掠过我的身。紧接着，我就觉察
A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware,
（我哭了）我背后正有个神秘的黑影
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
在移动，而且一把揪住了我的发，
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;
往后拉，还有一声吆喝（我只是在挣扎）：
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, --
“这回是谁逮住了你？猜！”“死，”我答话。
`Guess now who holds thee?' -- `Death.' I said. But, there
听哪，那银铃似的回音：“不是死，是爱！”
The silver answer rang, -- `Not Death, but love.'
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回复: 2005年北京Case议事大厅~柠檬花园/第十山地师
今天出奇地热！如火坑边、炉灶旁.........呼呼........
今天出奇地热！如火坑边、炉灶旁.........呼呼........
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回复: 2005年北京Case议事大厅~柠檬花园/第十山地师
莎士比亚十四行诗集第一首：
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decrease
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies --
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the wold's fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And tender churl mak'st waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be --
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
莎士比亚十四行诗集第一首：
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decrease
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies --
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the wold's fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And tender churl mak'st waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be --
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
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回复: 2005年北京Case议事大厅~柠檬花园/第十山地师
Demain dès l’aube, a l’heure où blanchit la campagne
Je partirai vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps
?
Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées
Triste et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit
?
Je ne regardrai ni l’or du soir qui tombe
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur
Et quand j’arriverai?, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur
Demain dès l’aube, a l’heure où blanchit la campagne
Je partirai vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps
?
Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées
Triste et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit
?
Je ne regardrai ni l’or du soir qui tombe
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur
Et quand j’arriverai?, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur
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回复: 2005年北京Case议事大厅~柠檬花园/第十山地师
Very quietly I take my leave
As quietly as I came here;
Quietly I wave good-bye
To the rosy clouds in the western sky.
The golden willows by the riverside
Are young brides in the setting sun;
Their reflections on the shimmering waves
Always linger in the depth of my heart.
The floating heart growing in the sludge
Sways leisurely under the water;
In the gentle waves of Cambridge
I would be a water plant!
That pool under the shade of elm trees
Holds not water but the rainbow from the sky;
Shattered to pieces among the duckweeds
Is the sediment of a rainbow-like dream?
To seek a dream? Just to pole a boat upstream
To where the green grass is more verdant;
Or to have the boat fully loaded with starlight
And sing aloud in the splendor of starlight.
But I cannot sing aloud
Quietness is my farewell music;
Even summer insects heap silence for me
Silent is Cambridge tonight!
Very quietly I take my leave
As quietly as I came here;
Gently I flick my sleeves
Not even a wisp of cloud will I bring away
Very quietly I take my leave
As quietly as I came here;
Quietly I wave good-bye
To the rosy clouds in the western sky.
The golden willows by the riverside
Are young brides in the setting sun;
Their reflections on the shimmering waves
Always linger in the depth of my heart.
The floating heart growing in the sludge
Sways leisurely under the water;
In the gentle waves of Cambridge
I would be a water plant!
That pool under the shade of elm trees
Holds not water but the rainbow from the sky;
Shattered to pieces among the duckweeds
Is the sediment of a rainbow-like dream?
To seek a dream? Just to pole a boat upstream
To where the green grass is more verdant;
Or to have the boat fully loaded with starlight
And sing aloud in the splendor of starlight.
But I cannot sing aloud
Quietness is my farewell music;
Even summer insects heap silence for me
Silent is Cambridge tonight!
Very quietly I take my leave
As quietly as I came here;
Gently I flick my sleeves
Not even a wisp of cloud will I bring away
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回复: 2005年北京Case议事大厅~柠檬花园/第十山地师
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回复: 2005年北京Case议事大厅~柠檬花园/第十山地师
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
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回复: 2005年北京Case议事大厅~柠檬花园/第十山地师
TO TURN A BIRD
TO TURN A BIRD
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