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诗人简介 1917年4月9日，爱德华·托马斯死于第一次世界大战的法国战场，终年39岁。他1878年生于伦敦，1897年入读牛津大学，大三时女友海伦·诺博尔怀孕，两人结了婚，婚后一共生了三个孩子。早在学生时代，托马斯便决定把写作当成终身的事业，并出版了第一本书；离开牛津大学后他全靠写作养家糊口，写了大量评论、散文、传记等作品，在成为诗人之前，已是颇有成就的作家。托马斯早年写诗不被父亲看好，自信心受过打击。1913年10月遇见彼时旅居英国的美国诗人罗伯特·弗罗斯特，两人一见如故。弗罗斯特不仅鼓励托马斯写诗，甚至可以说是挽救了这时候精神已面临崩溃的托马斯。托马斯1914年底又开始写诗，直到逝世，在三年不到的时间里，一共写了144首诗。尽管托马斯没有被当时主导英国诗坛的“乔治亚朝诗人”阵营所接纳，现在评论家却认为他的诗风“比乔治亚朝诗人还要乔治亚朝”，对后来的“运动派”以及R·S·托马斯、谢默斯·希尼等诗人均有影响。虽然和阿尔弗雷德·欧文等人同被称为“战争诗人”，一起在伦敦西敏寺的诗人角有了一席之地，他却没有留下战场上的诗；战争只是他诗中那些英国乡野背后牵动人心的时代大背景。从题材来说，他是一个小诗人；他的诗真挚、谦逊、安静，但似浅而实深，往往别具韵味。 路标 暗海微闪寒光。白日隐藏了， 骨架草和蓬乱却从不枯干的 长草凝了霜，白色长留 在指路牌近旁的那个山头； “旅人的快乐” 吐出的轻烟 被吹过山楂果和榛树丛上方。 我认读指路牌。该往哪里走？ 一个声音说：你二十岁的时候 可不会这么糊涂。另一个声音 婉言相嘲：那时你但愿自己没出生。 一片金色的叶子从一棵榛树 顶枝上失落，第一个声音告诉 另一个说真想知道六十岁老了 来这路标旁的情形。“你会看到的，” 他笑着说——我也只好跟着笑—— “你会看到的；在那之前或之后， 不管发生什么，都是这遭遇。 给你满满一口免费的黄土 医治所有的遗憾和愿望； 如果说那天堂中有什么缺陷 那就是可以随心许愿，而你的心愿 可能是在这里或别处同我交谈， 不在意世上是什么样的天气， 或是在生命中的哪个年纪，—— 看那是怎样的白天或夜晚， 看太阳和寒霜、陆地和海洋， 看春、夏、秋、冬，—— 同上至国王、下至可怜虫 的任何一个人同在野外伫足， 纳闷着该往哪里去啊哪里去？” The Sign Post The dim sea glints chill. The white sun is shy, And the skeleton weeds and the never-dry, Rough, long grasses keep white with frost At the hilltop by the finger-post; The smoke of the traveller's-joy is puffed Over hawthorn berry and hazel tuft. I read the sign. Which way shall I go? A voice says: You would not have doubted so At twenty. Another voice gentle with scorn Says: At twenty you wished you had never been born. One hazel lost a leaf of gold From a tuft at the tip, when the first voice told The other he wished to know what 'twould be To be sixty by this same post. ‘You shall see,’ He laughed—and I had to join his laughter— ‘You shall see; but either before or after, Whatever happens, it must befall. A mouthful of earth to remedy all Regrets and wishes shall freely be given; And if there be a flaw in that heaven 'Twill be freedom to wish, and your wish may be To be here or anywhere talking to me, No matter what the weather, on earth, At any age between death and birth,— To see what day or night can be, The sun and the frost, the land and the sea, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring,— With a poor man of any sort, down to a king, Standing upright out in the air Wondering where he shall journey, O where?’ 解冻 在它们的巢窠上沉思的嘈嘈群鸦 下瞰陆地上斑斑的冰雪半已融化， 从榆树梢看见草地花儿般细弱的、 我们在下面看不见的冬天快过了。 Thaw Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed The speculating rooks at their nests cawed And saw from elm-tops, delicate as flower of grass, What we below could not see, Winter pass. 悼亡诗（一九一五年复活节） 黄昏树林里花朵落了厚厚一层 在这复活节之时让人想起那些 远离家园的人本来可以同亲人 一起采花却再不能将它们采撷。 In Memoriam (Easter, 1915) The flowers left thick at nightfall in the wood This Eastertide call into mind the men, Now far from home, who, with their sweethearts, should Have gathered them and will do never again. 五十捆柴 它们竖在那里，一头着地，五十捆柴 曾经是榛树和梣树的矮株，长在 珍妮·品克斯的杂树林里。现在它们 紧拢在篱边，成了灌木丛，只有幻想 才能随同老鼠和鹪鹩钻过。明年春天 会有一只乌鸫或知更鸟来这里营巢， 习惯了以后，以为它们会留在那里 成为一只鸟永恒的什么东西： 这个春天晚了；雨燕已经来了。 将它们搬来的那天天气很热： 它们再不用暖和我更好，虽则它们 必须烧几个冬天的火。等它们用完 战争该已结束，也许很多别的东西 也已经完结，对于这些我并不比 知更鸟和鹪鹩能预见或掌握更多。 Fifty Faggots There they stand, on their ends, the fifty faggots That once were underwood of hazel and ash In Jenny Pinks's Copse. Now, by the hedge Close packed, they make a thicket fancy alone Can creep through with the mouse and wren. Next Spring A blackbird or a robin will nest there, Accustomed to them, thinking they will remain Whatever is for ever to a bird: This Spring it is too late; the swift has come. 'Twas a hot day for carrying them up: Better they will never warm me, though they must Light several Winters' fires. Before they are done The war will have ended, many other things Have ended, maybe, that I can no more Foresee or more control than robin and wren. 樱桃树 繁花压枝的樱桃树花瓣儿纷纷 飘零在过路人都已故去的古径， 撒落在草地仿佛庆祝燕尔新婚， 在这没人结婚的五月初的黎明。 The Cherry Trees The cherry trees bend over and are shedding, On the old road where all that passed are dead, Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding This early May morn when there is none to wed. 一位绅士 “他抢了两家俱乐部。索尔兹伯里的法官 判得再怎么重也重不过他无疑应当 得到的惩罚。这恶棍！看看他的照片！ 勾引妇女的家伙！他这种人即便 处绞刑也便宜了他。”这样说的陌生人 罪行没被人发现，或者是还没做尽。 但在客栈里吉卜赛妇女打开了话匣子： “我说吧，他这样的人我称他为绅士。 他同卡丽要好，卡丽当时生小孩 他给垫上半个克朗，那么爽快。 他就是这样，垫上一整个克朗银币 还更像他哩。我从没见过他小气。 嗬哟！他多好的一位绅士呀。嗬哟！ 上次我们见到他，他说如果乔和我 到了附近一定要上他那儿去作客。 他双手把我们家阿摩司整个抱着 仿佛当他是自己的儿子。上帝保佑他 免受刑罚吧，再好的人可没有啦。” A Gentleman ‘He has robbed two clubs. The judge at Salisbury Can't give him more than he undoubtedly Deserves. The scoundrel! Look at his photograph! A lady-killer! Hanging's too good by half For such as he.’ So said the stranger, one With crimes yet undiscovered or undone. But at the inn the Gipsy dame began: ‘Now he was what I call a gentleman. He went along with Carrie, and when she Had a baby he paid up so readily His half a crown. Just like him. A crown'd have been More like him. For I never knew him mean. Oh! but he was such a nice gentleman. Oh! Last time we met he said if me and Joe Was anywhere near we must be sure and call. He put his arms around our Amos all As if he were his own son. I pray God Save him from justice! Nicer man never trod.’ 艾德尔索普 是的，我记得艾德尔索普 —— 它的名字，因为在一个天气 很热的下午，特快列车反常地 在那儿停下。那时候是六月底。 蒸汽嘶嘶响。有人清了清喉咙。 没人离开也没人来到空空的 月台上。我所看见的就是 艾德尔索普——只是它的名字 和柳树、柳叶菜，还有青草， 蚊子草，晒干的圆锥形草堆， 同那高高悬在天空的微云 一样宁静，一样有寂寞的美。 就在那一刻附近一只乌鸫 叫起来，在它周围，隐隐 从远处、更远处，从牛津郡 和格洛斯特郡传来百鸟的啼鸣。 Adlestrop Yes, I remember Adlestrop -- The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up there Unwontedly. It was late June. The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. No one left and no one came On the bare platform. What I saw Was Adlestrop -- only the name And willows, willow-herb, and grass, And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, No whit less still and lonely fair Than the high cloudlets in the sky. And for that minute a blackbird sang Close by, and round him, mistier, Farther and farther, all the birds Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire. 雨 雨,午夜的雨,就是这狂暴的雨 淋着这凄凉小屋，孤独，还有我 再度让我记起我将会死去 既听不见雨声也不能感谢雨 自从我降生到这孤独中以来 一次又一次把我洗得更洁净。 有雨淋身的死者是有福的： 但此刻我祈祷我曾经爱过的人 没有一个垂死在今夜或醒躺着 孑然一身，聆听着这雨声， 无论是怀着痛苦还是同情， 在生者和死者之间无依无靠， 就像残败的芦苇间的一汪寒水， 无数残败的芦苇都寂静僵直， 就像我，心中的爱都被这暴雨 所消解，只剩下对死亡的爱： 如果说这是爱完美的、暴风雨 告诉我说不会令人失望的东西。 Rain Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me Remembering again that I shall die And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks For washing me cleaner than I have been Since I was born into this solitude. Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon: But here I pray that none whom once I loved Is dying to-night or lying still awake Solitary, listening to the rain, Either in pain or thus in sympathy Helpless among the living and the dead, Like a cold water among broken reeds, Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff, Like me who have no love which this wild rain Has not dissolved except the love of death, If love it be for what is perfect and Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint. 字句 从我们这些 捣弄诗韵的人中间， 你有时 可会挑拣—— 就像风儿 利用墙上的缝隙 或者排水沟 让快乐和痛苦 簌簌吹过一样—— 挑拣我， 英文字句？ 我认识你： 你像梦一样轻， 像栎木一样硬， 贵重如黄金， 如罂粟和玉米， 一件旧斗篷： 像我们的鸟儿 一样悦耳， 像密刺蔷薇 在炎热的 盛夏： 像已死或未生的 物种一样陌生： 陌生和甜美 不分上下， 却又让人 觉得眼熟， 就像一个人熟悉的 最可爱的容颜， 就像失去的家园一样： 但尽管远老于 最古老的红豆杉—— 古老一如我们的山峦—— 一次又一次 旧物新用： 像我们雨后的溪流 一样年轻： 像你已证明 我们热爱的土地 一样可亲。 使我满足于 某种甜蜜 来自威尔士， 那里的夜莺 没有翅膀，—— 来自威尔特郡和肯特郡 和赫里福德郡 和那里的村庄，—— 来自那些名字，同样 也来自那里的东西。 让我偶尔同你 跳一跳舞， 或攀登 或满怀喜悦地 站稳韵脚， 既稳妥又自如， 就像诗人们那样。 Words Out of us all That make rhymes, Will you choose Sometimes— As the winds use A crack in a wall Or a drain, Their joy or their pain To whistle through— Choose me, You English words? I know you: You are light as dreams, Tough as oak, Precious as gold, As poppies and corn, Or an old cloak: Sweet as our birds To the ear, As the burnet rose In the heat Of Midsummer: Strange as the races Of dead and unborn: Strange and sweet Equally, And familiar, To the eye, As the dearest faces That a man knows, And as lost homes are: But though older far Than oldest yew,— As our hills are, old,— Worn new Again and again: Young as our streams After rain: And as dear As the earth which you prove That we love. Make me content With some sweetness From Wales Whose nightingales Have no wings,— From Wiltshire and Kent And Herefordshire, And the villages there,— From the names, and the things No less. Let me sometimes dance With you, Or climb Or stand perchance In ecstasy, Fixed and free In a rhyme, As poets do. 黑森林 森林黑暗而幽深，头顶的星星 在天空好像光明的种籽 徒然高悬，虽则是它们的播种 繁殖出更加光明的东西。 庞杂的庶类永远在森林周围 来来往往，也不进去； 对于森林里存在的其他庶类 从来不曾有哪个目睹。 林间毛地黄开着紫花，滨菊花 在林外开的金花带白色， 里头和外头的采花者都无法 相问候，无论白天黑夜。 The Dark Forest Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead Hang stars like seeds of light In vain, though not since they were sown was bred Anything more bright. And evermore mighty multitudes ride About, nor enter in; Of the other multitudes that dwell inside Never yet was one seen. The forest foxglove is purple, the marguerite Outside is gold and white, Nor can those that pluck either blossom greet The others, day or night. 他们会做什么？ 我走后他们会做什么？看得出 他们没有我也无妨，就像雨 没有花花草草也无妨，这些 得益于它，没有它必将死亡。 我只见过他们走过喧闹的大街； 对于他们我不算什么。我四望 见他们消失，对我毫不留神。 可假如我在他们心目中像他们 在我心目中一样珍贵无价？ 我几乎产生那花冠里仅有的 雨水渴望来一次干旱的想法， 这时有人回转身，轻声笑了。 What Will They Do? What will they do when I am gone? It is plain That they will do without me as the rain Can do without the flowers and the grass That profit by it and must perish without. I have but seen them in the loud street pass; And I was naught to them. I turned about To see them disappearing carelessly. But what if I in them as they in me Nourished what has great value and no price? Almost I thought that rain thirsts for a draught Which only in the blossom's chalice lies, Until that one turned back and lightly laughed. 好夜晚 丘陵上空云雀的鸣叫已远在身后； 我再也听不见郊区的那些夜莺； 城里花园中画眉和乌鸫的歌喉 唱也徒然：人畜和机器众声嚣腾。 但是不熟悉的街道里儿童的喊声 以一种熟悉的傍晚回声在回荡， 甜美如夜莺或云雀的啭鸣，完成 陌生的欢迎魔法，我仿佛国王 置身于成人、牲畜、机器、禽鸟、儿童 和回声中活、回声中死的幽灵之间。 这城市无友却友好；无家，我也不迷茫； 尽管这些家门无一认识，所见皆生脸。 也许过了明天以后，我再也见不到 这些朴素的街道，这些教堂亮灯的窗， 其间的男人、女人和儿童亦已杳渺： 然而这是“众友之夜”，旅人的好夜晚。 Good-Night The skylarks are far behind that sang over the down; I can hear no more those suburb nightingales; Thrushes and blackbirds sing in the gardens of the town In vain: the noise of man, beast, and machine prevails. But the call of children in the unfamiliar streets That echo with a familiar twilight echoing, Sweet as the voice of nightingale or lark, completes A magic of strange welcome, so that I seem a king Among man, beast, machine, bird, child, and the ghost That in the echo lives and with the echo dies. The friendless town is friendly; homeless, I am not lost; Though I know none of these doors, and meet but strangers' eyes. Never again, perhaps, after to-morrow, shall I see these homely streets, these church windows alight, Not a man or woman or child among them all: But it is All Friends' Night, a traveller's good-night. 原帖：http://www./url.php?forumID=14&msgID=2147478744&page=1 |
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