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两个精灵，一个寓言
两个精灵，一个寓言
第一个精灵
哦，你抖擞着强烈愿望的翅膀，
想要飞上清虚的太空，小心：
一幢黑影正跟着你的火焰似的飞航——
黑夜即将来临！
眼前的天色固然开朗晴明，
在风和光的世界里悠游翱翔
固然欢快轻松，逍遥动人——
黑夜即将来临！
第二个精灵
那不死的星星，照耀在我的头顶，
如果我立志定要穿越夜的黑暗，
爱的明灯将炽热燃在我的内心，
这就是我的白天！
月亮会用温柔的银辉发出微笑，
照拂我的翎羽，无论我在何处蹁跹，
流星的火球将舞绕在我的周遭，
使黑夜变为白天！
第一个精灵
可是，如果黑暗的旋风唤醒冰雹，
唤醒狂风暴雨和电火雷霆；
瞧，大气的茫茫四垠已经被动摇——
黑夜即将来临！
迅疾的飓风挟带着火红的云冕，
已经袭击那边正在沉没的日轮，
冰雹落地时的铿锵声响彻原野——
黑夜即将来临！
第二个精灵
我见到那种景象，也听到那种音响，
我仍愿在黑暗的暴风雨里遨游，
安详，在我心头，光明，在我四方，
会使黑夜变为白昼！
而你，当黑暗变得深沉而且僵硬，
请从昏昏酣睡的地面举目向上，
那时，你我会看到我月亮似地航行，
在高空，在远方。
——————————
有人说，在阿尔卑斯崇山峻岭之中，
有一座陡峭的悬崖，积雪上，
冰谷间，屹立着一株巨大的苍松，
眼看就要冻僵！
而疲惫的暴风，不断追逐着
那个枝叶如翼的形体，绕着苍老的树干，
不断地飞旋，也就不断更新了，
它那气流的源泉。
有人说，在晴朗、干燥的黑夜里，
死亡之露在沼泽地里入眠，
旅行人可以听到甜蜜的低声絮语，
这会使黑夜变为白天；
一个银色的形影，象他早年的爱，
被她蓬松发光的秀发簇拥着飘浮向前，
当他从芬芳的草茵上醒来，
会发现黑夜竟是白天。
（江枫 译）
THE TWO SPIRITS: AN ALLEGORY
FIRST SPIRIT
O thou, who plum'd with strong desire
Wouldst float above the earth, beware!
A Shadow tracks thy flight of fire--
Night is coming!
Bright are the regions of the air,
And among the winds and beams
It were delight to wander there--
Night is coming!
SECOND SPIRIT
The deathless stars are bright above;
If I would cross the shade of night,
Within my heart is the lamp of love,
And that is day!
And the moon will smile with gentle light
On my golden plumes where'er they move;
The meteors will linger round my flight,
And make night day.
FIRST SPIRIT
But if the whirlwinds of darkness waken
Hail, and lightning, and stormy rain;
See, the bounds of the air are shaken--
Night is coming!
The red swift clouds of the hurricane
Yon declining sun have overtaken,
The clash of the hail sweeps over the plain--
Night is coming!
SECOND SPIRIT
I see the light, and I hear the sound;
I'll sail on the flood of the tempest dark,
With the calm within and the light around
Which makes night day:
And thou, when the gloom is deep and stark,
Look from thy dull earth, slumber-bound,
My moon-like flight thou then mayst mark
On high, far away.
----
Some say there is a precipice
Where one vast pine is frozen to ruin
O'er piles of snow and chasms of ice
Mid Alpine mountains;
And that the languid storm pursuing
That winged shape, for ever flies
Round those hoar branches, aye renewing
Its aëry fountains.
Some say when nights are dry and dear,
And the death-dews sleep on the morass,
Sweet whispers are heard by the traveller,
Which make night day:
And a silver shape like his early love doth pass
Upborne by her wild and glittering hair,
And when he awakes on the fragrant grass,
He finds night day. |
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狗仔卡
楼主
发表于 2005-8-21 12:48