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The Lonely Farmer R. S. Thomas Poor hill farmer astray in the grass; There came a movement and he looked up, but All that he saw was the wind pass. There was a sound of voice on the air. But where, where? It was only the glib stream talking Softly to itself. And once when he was walking Along a lane in spring he was deceived By a shrill; whistle coming through the leaves; Wait a minute, wait a minute--four swift notes; He turned, and it was nothing, only a Thrush In the thorn bushes easing its throat. He swore at himself for paying heed, The poor hill farmer, so often again Stopping, staring, listening, in vain, His ear betrayed by the heart’s need. 孤独的农夫 R·S·托马斯 罗怀宇 翻译 可怜的山地农夫迷乱在草丛中； 一开始有个动静，他抬头去看 却只看见一丝风儿吹过。 空气中又飘过一个嗓音。 但是在哪呢，在哪？只有饶舌的小溪 不停地低声自语。还有一次他走在 春天的小路上，一个很尖的声音 也骗过了他；树叶间传来的哨声； 等等，不对——有四个很快的音符； 他转过身，不是别的，一只画眉 正在荆棘丛中清它的嗓子。 他不由地怪自己多管闲事。 这个可怜的山地农夫，一次又一次 停下，凝望，聆听，失望， 他心底的需要背叛了他的耳朵。 |
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