|
本帖最后由 阿金逍遥2050 于 2020-4-30 19:51 编辑
9.WOMAN, YOUR basket is heavy, your limbs are tired. For what distance have you set out, with what hunger of profit? The way is long and the dust is hot in the sun.
.
See, the lake is deep and full, its water dark like a crow's eye. The banks are sloping and tender with grass.
.
Dip your tired feet into the water. The noon-tide wind will pass its fingers through your hair; the pigeons will croon their sleep songs, the leaves will murmur the secrets that nestle in the shadows.
.
What matters it if the hours pass and the sun sets; if the way through the desolate land be lost in the waning light.
.
Yonder is my house, by the hedge of flowering henna; I will guide you.
.
I will make a bed for you, and light a lamp. In the morning when the birds are roused by the stir of milking the cows, I will waken you.
.
女人啊,你的篮子沉甸甸, 你的四肢也已倦。你已走了多远的路,渴望得到啥好处?路途遥遥长,太阳下红尘滚滚烫。
.
看啊,湖水深深又盈盈,暗若乌鸦的眼睛。斜岸柔柔,嫩草悠悠。
.
将你疲倦之足浸入湖里吧,午日风儿阵阵起,将它根根手指穿过你的乌发丝丝;鸽子将咕咕轻唱催眠曲,叶儿将呢喃在树荫里做巢的秘密。
.
若时光消逝,太阳归去;哪怕天光渐稀,穿过荒地之途,越来越缥缈无迹,又有什么关系的。
.
那边的屋子是我的家,傍着指甲花开的篱笆;我会带你而去。
.
为你,我会打点好床铺,点燃起油灯。清晨,当鸟儿醒于挤奶牛的喧声,我会将你唤醒。
.
10. WHAT IS IT THAT drives these bees from their home; these followers of unseen trails? What cry is this in their eager wings? How can they hear the music that sleeps in the flower soul? How can they find their way to the chamber where the honey lies shy and silent?
.
什么在驱使他们离开家的,这些蜂儿,这些无形痕迹的跟从者?他们的翅膀振振呼唤为甚?他们是如何听得花之魂里沉睡之曲? 大厅里躺着羞羞寂寂的蜂蜜,他们是如何找到去那大厅的路的?
.
.
Rabindranath Tagore‘s Verses -- Lover's Gift
.
泰戈尔爱情诗集-《恋人的馈赠》
.
11. IT WAS ONLY the budding of leaves in the summer, the summer that came into the garden by the sea. It was only a stir and rustle in the south wind, a few lazy snatches of songs, and then the day was done.
But let there be flowering of love in the summer to come in the garden by the sea. Let my joy take its birth and clap its hands and dance with the surging songs, and make the morning open its eyes wide in sweet amazement.
那仅仅是个嫩芽初萌的夏季,到至花园的夏季是自大海而来的。南风仅仅有点不安而唏莎不息,懒懒地做了一点点歌曲,一天就那般的消逝而去。
可即将到来的夏季啊,让大海边的花园盛开爱情的花朵吧。让我因之而心生欢愉,为之鼓掌,为那源源不断的歌而欢舞,让清晨在甜蜜的惊叹中睁开明目。
12. AGES AGO WHEN you opened the south gate of the garden of gods, and came down upon the first youth of the earth, O Spring; men and women rushed out of their houses, laughing and dancing, and pelting each other with flower-dust in a sudden madness of mirth.
Year after year you bring the same flowers that you scattered in your path in that earliest April. Therefore, today, in their pervading perfume, they breathe the sigh of the days that are now dreams-the clinging sadness of vanished worlds. Your breeze is laden with love-legends that have faded from all human language.
One day, with fresh wonder, you came into my life that was fluttered with its first love. Since then the tender timidness of that inexperienced joy comes hidden every year in the early green buds of your lemon flowers ; your red roses carry in their burning silence all that was unutterable in me; the memory of lyric hours, those days of May, rustles in the thrill of your new leaves born again and again.
很久以前,当你打开神明们的花园南门,地球的第一个青春就此来临,哦 春天;男男女女冲出自家的门,欢歌笑语、足蹈手舞,在突然的狂喜中,互掷如尘的瓣瓣碎花。
一年又一年的四月最初时,你带来些同样的花卉,零散地抛洒在你走的小路。因而今日,在它们依然飘荡的芳菲里,它们呼吸着已成旧梦的轻叹--对逝去的世界哀伤不断。你的微风盛载着爱--这爱的传奇却已在人类语言里逐渐消失。
一天,出现了一个新的奇迹,你来到我的生命里,我那时正因初恋忐忑不定。那以后,一年又一年,在你柠檬花的绿芽里,我悄悄藏起那陌生而怯怯柔柔的欢愉;你的红玫瑰盛满它们燃烧的沉寂,都被我深藏内心不可表述;那充满诗意时光的记忆,那些五月的日子,一次又一次,在你新芽初发时的激动里,悉莎不已。
13. LAST NIGHT IN the garden I offered you my youth's foaming wine. You lifted the cup to your lips, you shut your eyes and smiled while I raised your veil, unbound your tresses, drawing down upon my breast your face sweet with its silence, last night when the moon's dream overflowed the world of slumber.
.
Today in the dew-cooled calm of the dawn you are walking to God's temple, bathed and robed white, with a basketful of flowers in your hand. I stand aside in the shade un-der the tree, with my head bent, in the calm of the dawn by the lonely road to the temple.
.
昨晚在花园,我献给了你我青春盎然的红酒。你举杯放在唇边,闭上双眼,当我揭开你的面纱,你笑意轻浅,我解开你的发辫,将你甜美宁静的脸揽在我的胸前 。就在昨晚,就在月儿的梦溢过世界的沉睡之时。
.
而今日,被露降凉的晨曦的静寂里,你走向神的庙宇,沐浴后, 穿上白袍,手携满盈篮子的花卉。树荫下,我站在一边,头垂胸前,在晨曦的静寂里,在去往神庙的孤僻路旁。
.
(* 哦,我想这个说的是他和他嫂子的那个爱情,以及他嫂子的内疚心情,所以第二天大约她是去庙宇做忏悔,而他只有默默的不知所措而已。哦,被禁止的爱情,可怜的人儿。-译者语)
.
14. IF I AM impatient today, forgive me, my love. It is the first summer rain, and the riv-erside forest is aflutter, and the blossoming kadam trees, are tempting the passing winds with wine-cups of perfume. See, from all corners of the sky lightnings are darting their glances, and winds are rampant in your hair.
.
If today I bring my homage to you, forgive me, my love. The everyday world is hidden in the dimness of the rain, all work has stopped in the village, the meadows are desolate. In your dark eyes the coming of the rain finds its music, and it is at your door that July waits with jasmines for your hair in its blue skirt.
.
若我今日很不耐烦,原谅我吧,亲爱。第一场夏雨已然到来,河旁的树林雨水儿飘扬不断,开了花的团花树哟,以它们酒香盈盈的芳菲,吸引着途径此地的风儿。看呀,天空的每个角落里,电光闪闪,抛掷偷览,风儿狂吹入你的秀发里面。
.
倘若今日我对你毕恭毕敬,请你原谅,亲爱。每日的世界躲藏在阴暗雨水的后面,村里什么劳作都已停歇,草甸凄凉着孤单。你沉暗的眸子里,雨水的来至也发现了它的音乐,也是在你的门前,七月在等待,欲将它蓝色短裙里的茉莉花儿,插入你的乌发里面。
15. HER NEIGHBOURS call her dark in the village-but she is a lily to my heart, yes, a lily though not fair. Light came muffled with clouds, when first I saw her in the field; her head was bare, her veil was off, her braided hair hanging loose on her neck. She may be dark as they say in the village, but I have seen her black eyes and am glad.
.
The pulse of the air boded storm. She rushed out of the hut, when she heard her dap-pled cow low in dismay. For a moment she turned her large eyes to the clouds, and felt a stir of the coming rain in the sky. I stood at the corner of the ricefield,-if she noticed me, it was known only to her (and perhaps I know it). She is dark as the message of shower in summer, dark as the shade of flowering woodland; she is dark as the longing for un-known love in the wistful night of May.
.
她村里的邻居喊她黑人呢,可对我心而言她却是朵百合,是的,她是百合,虽然她的皮肤并非浅色。我第一次在田里看到她时,阳光被乌云笼罩低低沉沉;她的头上啥也没戴,面纱也掉落了,她的辫发松松蓬蓬,随意挂在她脖子的后面。也许,就如村民说的她肤色深暗,可我见过她乌黑黑的双眼,我却很开心呢。
.
空气的脉搏酝酿着暴雨。当听到她的母牛低声哀鸣,她冲出茅棚。有一阵子她的大眼盯着乌云,她感到天空里风雨既临。我站在稻田的角落,若她看到我,也只有她知道(我想她或许是看到了)。她是很深色的,恰若夏日阵雨前的显示,又深若开花树林的阴暗处;她如此深色,恰若五月之夜那个暗暗不为人知的对爱的渴望。
.
16. SHE DWELT HERE by the pool with its landing-stairs in ruins. Many an evening she had watched the moon made dizzy by the shaking of bamboo leaves, and on many a rainy day the smell of the wet earth had come to her over the young shoots of rice.
.
Her pet name is known here among those date-palm groves, and in the court-years where girls sit and talk, while stitching their winter quilts. The water in this pool keeps in its depth the memory of her swimming limbs, and her wet feet had left their marks, day after day, on the footpath leading to the village.
.
The women who come today with their vessels to the water, have all seen her smile over simple jests, and the old peasant, taking his bullocks to their bath, used to stop at her door every day to greet her.
.
Many a sailing boat passes by this village; many a traveller takes rest beneath that banyan tree; the ferry boat crosses to yonder ford carrying crowds to the market; but they never notice this spot by the village road, near the pool with its ruined landing-stairs,-where dwelt she whom I love.
.
她曾住在这儿的池塘边,池塘旁的阶梯业已塌陷。在许多的夜晚,她看着月亮被摇曳的竹叶弄得昏昏沉沉,而在许多下雨的日子,湿漉漉的泥土气息,使她对幼嫩的水稻叶子忧愁不已。
.
她所宠小动物的名字,枣子林最为熟悉,女孩们边说边缝冬被的大院也最为熟知。这池水记忆深深处还记得她游泳的四肢,她湿漉漉的玉足也留下了许多痕迹,一日又一日,留在去往村子的足径里。
.
女人们来的今日,他们带着水壶来灌水,他们也都看到过她说笑时的样子,还有那个老农民,带着他的小水牛去水里洗浴,也曾每日停留在她的家门和她打招呼过呢。
.
许多船儿路过此村,许多旅人在那榕树下休息;去往浅水滩的渡轮将人们渡往集市;但他们都没在村子的路旁注意到此地,在阶梯损坏的池塘旁,我爱的她曾住在那里。
17. WHILE AGES passed and the bees haunted the summer gardens, the moon smiled to the lilies of the night, the lightnings flashed their fiery kisses to the clouds and fled laughing, the poet stood in a corner, one with the trees and clouds. He kept his heart silent, like a flower, watched through his dreams as does the crescent moon; and wandered like the summer breeze for no purpose.
.
One April evening, when the moon rose up like a bubble from the depth of the sunset; and one maiden was busy watering the plants; and one feeding her doe, and one making her peacock dance, the poet broke out singing,-'O listen to the secrets of the world. I know that the lily is pale for the moon's love. The lotus draws her veil aside before the morning sun, and the reason is simple if you think. The meaning of the bee's hum in the ear of the early jasmine has escaped the learned, but the poet knows.'
.
The sun went down in a blaze of blush, the moon loitered behind the trees, and the south wind whispered to the lotus, that the poet was not as simple as he seemed. The maidens and youths clapped their hands and cried,-'The world's secret is out.' They looked into each other's eyes and sang-'Let our secret as well be flung into the winds.'
.
时光荏苒而逝,蜜蜂那时常光顾夏的花园,月儿曾对夜百合微微笑过, 闪电曾频送热情的吻给云朵又笑着逃走了,诗人曾站在个角落,和树木和云朵呆在一处。他让他的心保持着缄默,犹如一个花朵,看穿他的梦境,一勾新月也曾见过;他也曾徘徊过,犹如夏日的微风般漫无目的呢。
.
一个四月的夜晚,当明月从夕阳里冒泡般升将出来;一个女佣忙着给植蔬浇水;另一个在给母鹿喂食物;还有一个在让孔雀跳舞,诗人忽然唱起歌来,--哦,听听世界的秘密呀。我知道那百合是因月亮之爱而面色惨淡。荷花在朝阳出来前将面纱收在一旁,而原因却是那般简单,若你去想想。那蜜蜂在早开花的茉莉耳朵里鸣叫的意思,竟让学者也糊涂了,可诗人却是明白的。
.
太阳面色羞红地降落下去,月亮在树丛后面徘徊不已,南风对芙蓉悄声细语,告诉她那诗人可不像他看来的那般简单哩。女佣们和小伙们拍掌欢叫,-“ 世界的秘密出来了呢。”他们深情凝视着对方的眼唱道 - “让我们的秘密就和风儿去缠绵旖旎。”
.
18. YOUR DAYS WILL be full of cares, if you must give me your heart. My house by the cross-roads has its doors open and my mind is absent,-for I sing.
.
I shall never be made to answer for it, if you must give me your heart. If I pledge my word to you in tunes now, and am too much in earnest to keep it when music is silent, you must forgive me; for the law laid in May is best broken in December.
.
Do not always keep remembering it, if you must give me your heart. When your eyes sing with love, and your voice ripples with laughter, my answers to your questions will be wild, and not miserly accurate in facts,- they are to be believed for ever and then forgotten for good.
.
你每日将会充满顾虑,若你一定要交付我你的心。我的屋子在道路交叉处,大门敞开着,而我的心却并不在屋子里呢,- 只因我在唱歌。
.
我不该被迫回答这问题,若你一定要给我你的心。若我恳请你现在做回复,我太惯于坚持那么做,尤其当音乐沉默之时,你务必要原谅我;因为五月的规定最好在十二月时解除掉。
.
你不该总是记住这,若你必须给我你的心。当你的眼睛唱着爱意,当你的嗓音笑声如波,我对你问题的回答是肆无忌惮的,丝毫也不符合事实,- 它们是用来永远相信然后却最好还是忘却呢。
19. IT IS WRITTEN in the book, that Man, when fifty, must leave the noisy world, to go to the forest seclusion. But the poet proclaims that only for the young is the forest hermitage. For it is the birth-place of flowers, and the haunt of birds and bees; and hidden nooks are waiting there for the thrill of lover's whispers. There the moonlight, that is all one kiss for the malati flowers, has its deep message, but those who understand it are far below fifty.
.
And alas, youth is inexperienced and wilful, therefore it is but meet, that the old should take charge of the household, and the young take to the seclusion of forest shades, and the severe discipline of courting.
.
书上明注,那人到了五十岁,就该离开喧闹处,到隔绝人迹的地方去住。而诗人要正式宣布- 年青人才该去森林隐居。因为那儿是鲜花诞生之处,还有鸟儿和蜜蜂的飞绕;隐秘的角落等在那为恋人们的悄悄话而激动呢。那儿的月色,是使君子花的仅得一吻,却藏有一个深层含义,可那些懂得它的却还远远不到五十岁呢。
.
可叹哦,年轻是缺乏经验而固执的,所以作为需要,年长者会控制家事,而年轻的,则需要去森林的阴暗处隐居,还有对男女求爱的要有严格规定。
.
.
.
Rabindranath Tagore‘s Verses -- Lover's Gift
.
泰戈尔爱情诗集-《恋人的馈赠》
.
20. WHERE IS THE market for you, my song? Is it there where the learned muddle the summer breeze with their snuff ; where dispute is unending if the oil depend upon the cask, or the cask upon the oil; where yellow manuscripts frown upon the fleet-footed frivolousness of life? My song cries out. Ah, no, no, no.
Where is the market for you, my song? Is it there where the man of fortune grows enormous in pride and flesh in his marble palace, with his books on the shelves, dressed in leather, painted in gold, dusted by slaves, their virgin pages dedicated to the god obscure? My song gasped and said, Ah, no, no, no.
Where is the market for you, my song? Is it there where the young student sits, with his head bent upon his books, and his mind straying in youth's dream-land; where prose is prowling on the desk, and poetry hiding in the heart? There among that dusty disorder would you care to play hide-and-seek? My song remains silent in shy hesitation.
Where is the market for you, my song? Is it there where the bride is busy in the house, where she runs to her bedroom the moment she is free, and snatches, from under her pillows, the book of romance so roughly handled by the baby, so full of the scent of her hair? My song heaves a sigh and trembles with uncertain desire.
Where is the market for you, my song? Is it there where the least of a bird's notes is never missed, where the stream's babbling finds its full wisdom where all the lute-strings of the world shower their music upon two fluttering hearts? My song bursts out and cries, Yes, yes.
我的歌儿啊,你的市场在哪里?是在那儿么,那学者将夏风和鼻烟相混合之处?抑或,在人们无休止的争议“是油和油桶谁更需要依赖谁”之处?又或者,是在发黄稿纸因人生船儿的漂泊般轻浮不定的而不悦的地方?我的歌儿哭喊到-哦,不, 不,不。
我的歌儿啊,你的听众在那里?那富人的书仅仅在书架上堆积如山,那些包着皮质的书皮,涂着金色,奴仆为它们拂去尘灰,那些处女般圣洁的篇章只是为神明的糊涂而著,在他因无限骄傲而用大理石来炫耀其财富的宫殿里么? 我的歌儿气喘吁吁的说,哦,不,不,不。
我的歌儿啊,你的听众在哪里?那学生坐在那里,头低垂到他的书上,心思却偏离在年青人的梦境,散文在他桌上徘徊,而诗歌却躲藏在他的心里,在他那里么? 在那杂乱无章纷繁的红尘里,你愿意玩那藏匿寻找躲猫猫的游戏么?我的歌儿在害羞的犹豫里沉默不语。
你的听众在哪里啊,我的歌儿?那新娘在屋子里忙碌,一旦得闲她就匆忙跑到她的卧室,从她的枕头下面,快快抽出,浪漫之书被她的孩子粗糙地对待,并充满着她头发的气息,是在那儿么?我的歌儿感叹一声,在不肯定的欲望里颤栗。
你的听众在哪里啊,我的歌儿?鸟儿的只言片语从不被人错过;溪水的咕噜声总能找到所有的智慧,这智慧是世上所有琵琶之音,以阵雨般洒向两颗烦恼不安的心,在那里么?我的歌儿爆发了出来并大声叫喊,是的,是的。
.21.(From the Bengali of Devendranath Sen)
METHINKS, MY love, before the daybreak of life you stood under some waterfall of happy dreams, filling your blood with its liquid turbulence. Or, perhaps, your path was through the garden of the gods, where the merry multitude of jasmine, lilies, and oleanders fell in your arms in heaps, and entering your heart became boisterous.
Your laughter is a song whose words are drowned in the clamour of tune, a rapture of odour of flowers that are not seen; it is like the moonlight breaking through your lips' window when the moon is hiding in your heart. I ask for no reason, I forget the cause, I only know that your laughter is the tumult of insurgent life.
(诗人萨特扬德拉纳特?森所作)
我以为,我的爱,生命的黎明破晓前,你曾站在快乐美梦的飞瀑边,将它的澎湃之水填满你的血液。或者,也许,你所做的是走向神明们的花园,那里簇拥着欢欣的茉莉花,百合花以及夹竹桃花,许许多多争相飘落到你的双臂间,进入你心却变成喧闹不安。
你的欢笑,是一首歌呢,歌词却被喧嚣的声音湮没了, 那是百花无形芳菲的万分欣喜;恰若月色穿越过你的柔唇之窗,当那月儿藏在你的心窝窝里。我不寻求什么道理,我也忘却了为何如此,我只知道你的笑声是不俗人生里的小小骚动。
22. I SHALL GLADLY suffer the pride of culture to die out in my house, if only in some for-tunate future I am born a herd boy in the Brinda forest.
The herd boy who grazes his cattle sitting under the banyan tree, and idly weaves gunja flowers into garlands, who loves to splash and plunge in the Jamuna's cool deep stream.
He calls his companions to wake up when morning dawns, and all the houses in the lane hum with the sound of the churn, clouds of dust are raised by the cattle, the maid-ens come out in the courtyard to milk the kine.
As the shadows deepen under the tomal trees, and the dusk gathers on the river-banks; when the milkmaids, while crossing the turbulent water tremble with fear; and loud peacocks, with tails outspread, dance in the forest, he watches the summer clouds.
When the April night is sweet as a fresh-blown flower, he disappears in the forest with a peacock's plume in his hair; the swing ropes are twined with flowers on the branches; the south wind throbs with music, and the merry shepherd boys crowd on the banks of the blue river.
No, I will never be the leader, brothers, of this new age of new Bengal; I shall not trouble to light the lamp of culture for the benighted. If only I could be born, under the shady Ashoka groves, in some village of Brinda, where milk is churned by the maidens.
我会很乐意为骄傲于在自家衰亡去的这种文化而苦痛,只要我很幸运的在来世投生做那布林达森林里的牧童。
放牧着牲畜,那牧童坐在棵榕树下,漫不经心的将红豆花编织成花环,他也爱跳入加幕纳深深凉凉的小溪里嬉戏耍玩。
破晓时分,他唤醒他的伙伴们, 巷里所有的房屋低鸣起搅奶器的声响;牲畜搅得尘土云般滚滚而飞扬,少女们走出在院里给母牛挤奶。
当黄昏在河的两畔集结,柴桂树下的阴影渐趋深浓;当奶牛的少女跋涉过湍流,瑟瑟发抖充满惶恐;当孔雀们嘹亮而歌,展开尾翼,在树林里翩翩起舞着,他凝望着夏日阴云密布。
当四月之夜若初绽的花儿般甜蜜,他会发戴孔雀的羽毛消失在树林里;秋千的绳索儿双双载满枝枝的花儿;南风悸动着音乐,快乐的牧童们云集在蓝色河水的两岸。
哦,兄弟们,我是不会做领导的,即便在这新孟加拉的新时代;也不会为给愚昧的人点燃文化的灯而自寻麻烦。我只希翼,能在某个布林达的小村子,出生在葱葱郁郁无忧树园林的荫影里,在那儿牛奶被少女们翻搅着。
23. I LOVED THE sandy bank where, in the lonely pools, ducks clamoured and turtles basked in the sun; where, with evening, stray fishing-boats took shelter in the shadow by the tall grass.
You loved the wooded bank where shadows were gathered in the arms of the bamboo thickets; where women came with their vessels through the winding lane.
The same river flowed between us, singing the same song to both its banks. I listened to it, lying alone on the sand under the stars; and you listened sitting by the edge of the slope in the early morning light. Only the words I heard from it you did not know and the secret it spoke to you was a mystery for ever to me.
我喜爱那沙尘漫漫的河岸,那儿有孤僻的池塘,鸭子喧闹着,乌龟在阳光下取暖;在那里,傍晚,迷途的渔船儿在高高萋草的阴影里歇息。
你喜欢那树木成林的河岸,那儿阴影在茂密竹子的臂膀里聚集;那儿妇女们带着水罐穿过弯弯曲曲的小巷而至。
你我之间流淌着的同一条河,向它的两岸唱着同样的一首歌。我曾独自静聆那首歌,漫天星星下躺在沙滩上;你曾在晨光里坐在斜坡边听过那首歌。可你不知道的歌词我却听到了,而那河流告诉你的秘密对于我却是个永恒的谜语呢。
24. YOUR WINDOW half opened and veil half raised you stand there waiting for the bangle-seller to come with his tinsel. You idly watch the heavy cart creak on in the dusty road, and the boat-mast crawling along the horizon across the far-off river.
The world to you is like an old woman's chant at her spinning-wheel, unmeaning rhymes crowded with random images.
But who knows if he is on his way this lazy sultry noon, the Stranger, carrying his basket of strange wares. He will pass by your door with his clear cry, and you shall fling open your window, cast off your veil, come out of the dusk of your dreams and meet your destiny.
你的窗子半启着,你的面纱也半张着,你在那等待金银货郎带着灿烂的首饰而来。你庸懒地看着沉重的货车在飞尘的路上吱嘎作响,船帆缓慢爬行沿着地平线渡过远方的河。
在你看来,世界犹若老妇人边纺纱边唱着赞歌,毫无意义的歌词被乱七八糟的意象所挤满。
但谁又知道那陌生人呢,是否抬着一篮子奇怪的东西,在这懒洋洋闷热的中午正在走来。他会路过你的房门,清清越越地叫喊,你就会激动的打开窗儿,丢下你的面纱,在你美梦的薄暮中醒来,迎接你期待的人。
25. I CLASP YOUR hands, and my heart plunges into the dark of your eyes, seeking you, who ever evade me behind words and silence.
Yet I know that I must be content in my love, with what is fitful and fugitive. For we have met for a moment in the crossing of the roads. Have I the power to carry you through this crowd of worlds, through this maze of paths? Have I the food that can sustain you, across the dark passage gaping with arches of death?
我紧握你的双手,我的心儿啊旋即沉入你眸子的阴影里,找寻着你,可你总是躲避着我,用各种借口和你的沉默。
可我知道我一定是沉浸在爱情中了呢,它来去倏忽、难以捕捉。我们曾在道路的岔口处相遇了片刻,可我有那携带你着穿过这拥挤的世界,穿过迷魂阵般路途的力量么?我有足够供给你的食物,去穿过黑暗的死亡渊谷的走廊么?
26. IF, BY chance you think of me, I shall sing to you when the rainy evening loosens her shadows upon the river, slowly trailing her dim light towards the west,-when the day's remnant is too narrow for work or for play.
You will sit alone in the balcony of the south, and I shall sing from the darkened room. In the growing dusk, the smell of the wet leaves will come through the window; and the stormy winds will become clamorous in the coconut grove.
When the lighted lamp is brought into the room I shall go. And then, perhaps, you will listen to the night, and hear my song when I am silent.
倘若,你碰巧想起了我,我将会为你而歌,在雨夜将她在河流之上的阴影疏散之刻,在雨夜拖着她的暗淡光芒走向西面之刻,-当白日的残余变得过于狭长而无法工作或玩乐之刻。
你将会独自坐在朝南的阳台上, 我将会在阴暗的屋子里歌唱。在越来越浓郁的黄昏里,湿漉漉的叶子气息会越窗飘来;椰子林里,那暴风却会变得更喧闹的。
当那明亮的油灯被带入屋子时我会离去。然后,也许,你会倾听那深夜,即便当我沉寂时也会听到我的歌。
27. I FILLED MY tray with whatever I had, and gave it to you. What shall I bring to your feet tomorrow, I wonder. I am like the tree that, at the end of the flowering summer, gazes at the sky with its lifted branches bare of their blossoms.
But in all my past offerings is there not a single flower made fadeless by the eternity of tears?
Will you remember it and thank me with your eyes when I stand before you with empty hands at the leave-taking of my summer days?
无论有什么我都放在了托盘上,把它进献给了你,明日该在你脚边放些什么才好呢, 我心下迷惘。我就如一棵树,在夏日开花的最后时光,带着没有了花卉的秃秃树枝对空凝望。
可我在以往的供给里,每一朵花难道不是以永恒的泪浇灌成的不败的花朵么?
你能记住么,你会以你的眼睛感激我么,当我伫立你跟前,两手空空地辞别夏日之时?
28. I DREAMT THAT she sat by my head, tenderly ruffling my hair with her fingers, playing the melody of her touch. I looked at her face and struggled with my tears, till the agony of unspoken words burst my sleep like a bubble.
I sat up and saw the glow of the milky way above my window, like a world of silence on fire, and I wondered if at this moment she had a dream that rhymed with mine.
我梦见她坐在我的头边,用手指温柔地梳理我的发丝,每个接触富有韵律。我看着她的脸庞控制着眼泪,直到无法说话的痛苦爆破我的睡眠,就如水泡的破裂。
我坐起来看见银河高悬在我的窗户上闪烁星辉,好似那沉默的世界燃烧着,我疑惑是否她也如押韵般做了同样一个梦呢。
.
29. THOUGHT I had something to say to her when our eyes met across the hedge. But she passed away. And it rocks day and night, like a boat, on every wave of the hours the word that I had to say to her. It seems to sail in the autumn clouds in an endless quest and to bloom into evening flowers seeking its lost moment in the sunset. It twinkles like fireflies in my heart to find its meaning in the dusk of despair the word that I had to say to her.
我原以为对她有话可说,当我们在篱笆上四目相遇。可她去了另一个世界。我本必须对她说的话语,在每个钟头的浪尖,犹若船儿一般,日夜地摇晃。在无止境的要求下,它好似航行在秋云里,却又在夜晚绽放成花朵,寻觅夕阳里神情恍惚的一时。我本不得不对她说的话语,犹若心中的萤火虫闪闪烁烁,只欲在令人沮丧的晨曦里找到它的真意。
30. THE SPRING flowers breakout like the passionate pain of unspoken love. With their breath comes the memory of my old day songs. My heart of a sudden has put on green leaves of desire. My love came not but her touch is in my limbs, and her voice comes across the fragrant fields. Her gaze is in the sad depth of the sky, but where are her eyes? Her kisses flit in the air, but where are her lips?
春花怒放,犹若阵阵不可言说的爱之痛苦。花气芬芳勾起我对往日歌曲的记忆。我的心突然又抽出了充满渴望的绿叶。我的爱没有来,但我的四肢深处能感受到她,以及她穿过芬芳田野的声音。她凝视那深邃的哀哀长空,可她的眸子又在何处?她将吻传入空中,可她的芳唇却在何处?
|
|