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【这样的诗，不译为上】 十月之诗 迪伦·托马斯 这是我朝向天空的第三十年 从港口和临近的树林 还有盈池之蚌苍鹭祝圣的岸 都醒于我的听觉 清晨召唤 以祈祷之水海鸥和白嘴鸭的鸣叫 及帆船在渔网蛛布的墙上的击打 我迈步 那一刻 于仍然沉睡的城市并迈步而去。 我的生日始于水— 群鸟与生翅的众树之鸟飞翔我的名字 于农场和白马群之上 于是我高举 在阴雨的秋日 在我所有日子的阵雨中走向异乡。 当我上路浪潮正高苍鹭潜水 越过边界 和关闭的城 的道道重门在那城苏醒之时。 春天般的云雀在翻滚的 云中路边树丛漫溢吹啸的 乌鸫而十月的太阳 夏日般 在山峦的肩头 这儿天气怡人甜美的歌手突然 来到这清晨我在此漫步并倾听 雨在拧绞 风吹冷 于我下边遥遥而远的树林。 苍白的雨笼罩隐约若失的港口 越过海面湿漉漉的教堂小如蜗牛 它的角透过迷雾而城堡 猫头鹰般的棕色 可所有春天与夏日 的花园在高大的传说中绽放 越过边界并在云雀的完全遮蔽下。 在那儿我能够赞叹 我的生日 远离可天气已转好。 它从快乐无忧的乡野转过身去 沿着另一种空气和蓝色改变的天空 再次流淌夏日的惊奇 有苹果 梨和红醋栗 我在这转变中清楚地看见一个孩子 遗忘的一个个清晨当他与母亲共行 穿过阳光的 寓言 和青翠小教堂的传奇 而第二遍讲述的童稚的田野 那他的眼泪灼痛我的面颊他的心在我的心中跳动。 这些是那树林大河和海 在那儿一个男孩 在死者 倾听的夏日时光耳语他的欢乐的真实 给树木石头和浪潮中的鱼。 而神秘 仍然被歌唱而活在 水和歌唱的鸟中。 于是在那儿我能够惊叹我的生日 远离可天气已转好。而早已死去的 孩子真实的欢乐被唱着灼烧在 太阳中。 这是我朝向太阳的 第三十年站在那里那时在夏日正午 尽管下面的城被留在十月的血中。 哦愿我的心的真实 仍被歌唱 在这高高山岗上这一年转变之时。 Poem in October DYLAN THOMAS It was my thirtieth year to heaven Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood And the mussel pooled and the heron Priested shore The morning beckon With water praying and call of seagull and rook And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall Myself to set foot That second In the still sleeping town and set forth. My birthday began with the water- Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name Above the farms and the white horses And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days. High tide and the heron dived when I took the road Over the border And the gates Of the town closed as the town awoke. A springful of larks in a rolling Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling Blackbirds and the sun of October Summery On the hill’s shoulder, Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly Come in the morning where I wandered and listened To the rain wringing Wind blow cold In the wood faraway under me. Pale rain over the dwindling harbour And over the sea wet church the size of a snail With its horns through mist and the castle Brown as owls But all the gardens Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud. There could I marvel My birthday Away but the weather turned around. It turned away from the blithe country And down the other air and the blue altered sky Streamed again a wonder of summer With apples Pears and red currants And I saw in the turning so clearly a child’s Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother Through the parables Of sun light And the legends of the green chapels And the twice told fields of infancy That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine. These were the woods the river and sea Where a boy In the listening Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide. And the mystery Sang alive Still in the water and singingbirds. And there could I marvel my birthday Away but the weather turned around. And the true Joy of the long dead child sang burning In the sun. It was my thirtieth Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon Though the town below lay leaved with October blood. O may my heart’s truth Still be sung On this high hill in a year’s turning. 英文格式见：http://www./poetrymagazine/poem/13299 |
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