经典英语诗歌翻译

To Helen——Edgar Allan Poe

Helen， thy beauty is to me

Like those Nicean barks of yore，

That gently， o'er a perfumed sea，

The weary， way-worn wanderer bore

To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam，

Thy hyacinth hair， thy classic face，

Thy Naiad airs have brought me home

To the glory that was Greece.

And the grandeur that was Rome.

Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche

How statue-like I see thee stand!

The agate lamp within thy hand，

Ah! Psyche from the regions which

Are Holy Land!

海倫，我視你的美貌

如昔日尼西的小船

于芬芳的海上輕輕漂泛

疲憊勞累的遊子

轉舵駛向故鄉的岸

久經海上風浪，慣于浪跡天涯

海倫，你的艷麗面容，你那紫藍的秀髮

你那仙女般的丰采令我深信

光榮屬於希臘

偉大屬於羅馬

看呀,在遠遠明亮的壁窗裏

你站立著,如同一尊雕塑

手上提著一盞光亮的明燈

塞姬女神啊,那些神聖的土地

才是你的宿地

The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weakry.

Over many a quint and curious volume of forgotten lore.

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--

Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; -vainly I had tried to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-

Nameless here for evermore

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

" ' Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-

This it is and nothing more.

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door;

Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that: darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, " Lenore! "

Merely this, and nothing more.

Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;

'Tis the wind, and nothing more!

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter.

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night ' s Plutonian shore! "

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. "

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy hore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above I us chamber door,

With such mime as "Nevermore.

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that ill~ word he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered-not a feather then he fluttered-

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before-

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before. "

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. "

Wondering at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,"

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

Followed fast and followed fastel-so, when Hope he would adjure,

Stern Despair returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared adjure-

That sad answer, "Nevermore!"

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door;

Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking "Nevermore. "

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite-respite and Nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Let me quaff this kind Nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. "

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -prophet still, if bird or devil! -

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-

On this home by Horror haunted-tell me truly, I implore-

Is there-is there balm in Gilead?-tell me-tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. "

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us-by that God we both adore-

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn ,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. "

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting-

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! -quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! "

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. "

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o' er him streaming throve his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out chat shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted-nevermore!

乌鸦(爱伦·坡 著)

曹明伦 译(安徽文艺出版社1999年版本)

从前一个阴郁的子夜，我独自沉思，慵懒疲竭，

面对许多古怪而离奇、并早已被人遗忘的书卷;

当我开始打盹，几乎入睡，突然传来一阵轻擂，

仿佛有人在轻轻叩击——轻轻叩击我房间的门环。

“有客来也”，我轻声嘟喃，“正在叩击我的门环，

惟此而已，别无他般。”

哦，我清楚地记得那是在风凄雨冷的十二月，

每一团奄奄一息的余烬都形成阴影伏在地板。

我当时真盼望翌日——因为我已经枉费心机

想用书来消除伤悲，消除因失去丽诺尔的伤感，

因那位被天使叫作丽诺尔的少女，她美丽娇艳，

在此已抹去芳名，直至永远。

那柔软、暗淡、飒飒飘动的每一块紫色窗布

使我心中充满前所未有的恐惧，我毛骨悚然;

为平息我心儿的悸跳.我站起身反复念叨

“这是有客人想进屋，正在叩我房间的门环，

更深夜半有客人想进屋，正在叩我房间的门环，

惟此而已，别无他般。”

于是我的心变得坚强;不再犹疑，不再彷徨，

“先生”，我说，“或夫人，我求你多多包涵;

刚才我正睡意昏昏，而你敲门又敲得那么轻，

你敲门又敲得那么轻，轻轻叩我房间的门环，

我差点以为没听见你”，说着我打开门扇——

但惟有黑夜，别无他般。

凝视着夜色幽幽，我站在门边惊惧良久，

疑惑中似乎梦见从前没人敢梦见的梦幻;

可那未被打破的寂静，没显示任何象征，

“丽诺尔?”便是我嗫嚅念叨的惟一字眼，

我念叨“丽诺尔”，回声把这名字轻轻送还;

惟此而已，别无他般。

我转身回到房中，我的整个心烧灼般疼痛，

很快我又听到叩击声，比刚才听起来明显。

“肯定”，我说，“肯定有什么在我的窗棂;

让我瞧瞧是什么在那儿，去把那秘密发现，

让我的心先镇静一会儿，去把那秘密发现;

那不过是风，别无他般!”

然后我推开了窗户，随着翅膀的一阵猛扑，

一只神圣往昔的乌鸦庄重地走进我房间;

它既没向我致意问候，也没有片刻的停留，

而是以绅士淑女的风度栖到我房门的上面，

栖在我房门上方一尊帕拉斯半身雕像上面;

栖息在那儿，仅如此这般。

于是这只黑鸟把我悲伤的幻觉哄骗成微笑，

以它那老成持重一本正经温文尔雅的容颜，

“冠毛虽被剪除”，我说，“但你显然不是懦夫，

你这幽灵般可怕的古鸦，漂泊来自夜的彼岸，

请告诉我你尊姓大名，在黑沉沉的冥府阴间!”

乌鸦答曰“永不复焉”。

听见如此直率的回答，我对这丑鸟感到惊讶，

尽管它的回答不着边际——与提问几乎无关;

因为我们不得不承认，从来没有活着的世人

曾如此有幸地看见一只鸟栖在他房门的上面，

看见鸟或兽栖在他房门上方的半身雕像上面，

而且名叫“永不复焉”。

但那只栖于肃穆的半身雕像上的乌鸦只说了

这一句话，仿佛它倾泻灵魂就用那一个字眼。

然后它便一声不吭——也不把它的羽毛拍动，

直到我几乎在喃喃自语“其他朋友早已离散，

明晨它也将离我而去，如同我的希望已消散。”

这时乌鸦说“永不复焉”。

惊异于屋里的寂静被如此恰当的回话打破，

“肯定”，我说，“此话是它惟一会说的人言，

从它不幸的主人口中学来。一连串横祸飞灾

曾接踵而至，直到它主人的歌中有了这字眼，

直到他希望的挽歌中有了这个忧郁的字眼——

永不复焉，永不复焉。”

但那只乌鸦仍然在骗我悲伤的灵魂露出微笑，

我即刻拖了张软椅到门边雕像下那乌鸦跟前;

然后坐在天鹅绒椅垫上，我开始产生联想，

浮想连着浮想，猜度这不祥的古鸟何出此言，

这只狰狞丑陋可怕不吉不祥的古鸟何出此言，

为何对我说“永不复焉”。

我坐着猜想那意思，但没对乌鸦说片语只言，

此时，它炯炯发光的眼睛已燃烧进我的心坎;

我依然坐在那儿猜度，把我的头靠得很舒服，

舒舒服服地靠着在灯光凝视下的天鹅绒椅垫，

但在这灯光凝视着的紫色的天鹅绒椅垫上面，

她还会靠么?啊，永不复焉!

接着我觉得空气变得稠密，被无形香炉熏香，

提香炉的撒拉弗的脚步声响在有簇饰的地板。

“可怜的人”，我叹道，“是上帝派天使为你送药，

这忘忧药能终止你对失去的丽诺尔的思念;

喝吧，喝吧，忘掉你对失去的丽诺尔的思念!”

这时乌鸦说“永不复焉”。

“先知!”我说“不管是先知是魔鬼，是鸟是魔，

是不是撒旦派你，或是暴风雨抛你，来到此岸，

来到这片妖惑鬼祟但却不惧怕魔鬼的荒原——

来到这恐怖的小屋——告诉我真话，求你可怜!

基列有香膏吗?① 告诉我，告诉我，求你可怜!”

乌鸦说“永不复焉”。

“先知!”我说“不管是先知是魔鬼，是鸟是魔，

凭着我们都崇拜的上帝——凭着我们头顶的苍天，

请告诉这充满悲伤的灵魂。它能否在遥远的仙境

拥抱一位被天使叫作丽诺尔的少女，她纤尘不染，

拥抱一位被天使叫作丽诺尔的少女，她美丽娇艳。”

乌鸦说“永不复焉”。

“让这话做我们的告别辞，鸟或魔!”我起身吼道，

“回你的暴风雨中去吧，回你黑沉沉的夜之彼岸!

别留下你黑色的羽毛作为你灵魂谎过言的象征!

留给我完整的孤独!快从我门上的雕像上滚蛋!

让你的嘴离开我的心;让你的身子离开我房间!”

乌鸦答曰“永不复焉”。

那只鸟鸦并没飞走，它仍然栖息，仍然栖息，

栖息在房门上方苍白的帕拉斯半身雕像上面;

它的眼光与正在做梦的魔鬼的眼光一模一样，

照在它身上的灯光把它的阴影投射在地板;

而我的灵魂，会从那团在地板上漂浮的阴影中

She Walks In Beauty—— George Gordon Byron

She walks in beauty,

like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade more, one ray less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm,

yet eloquent The smiles that win, the tints that glow.

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

她在美中徜徉， 她在美中穿行;

象深邃的苍穹缀满繁星，

象皎洁的夜空万里无云。

明和暗多么协调，

深与浅恰如其分;

白昼的光线过于炫耀，

柔和的夜色最为温馨。

美汇入她的举止，

美溶进她的眼神; 美在乌黑的发际游弋，

美在灿烂的脸上逡巡。

不多一丝辉光，

不少半点柔阴;

包容的思绪弥足珍贵，

潜藏的心灵更加香醇;

在面颊，在眉宇， 无言胜似有声;

那里可以体察心绪的平静， 那里可以领会情感的温存。

那折服人心的微笑，

那淡淡泛起的红晕，

诉说着度过的优雅时光， 透露出沉积的善良品性。

人间万事平心以待， 恰似美的天神;

一颗心装着至爱， 一颗心永远真纯。

To a Waterfowl——William Cullen Bryant

Whither, midst falling dew,

While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,

Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue

Thy solitary way?

Vainly the fowler's eye

Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,

As, darkly seen against the crimson sky,

Thy figure floats along.

Seek'st thou the plashy brink

Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,

Or where the rocking billows rise and sink

On the chafed ocean-side?

There is a Power whose care

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast

The desert and illimitable air

Lone wandering, but not lost.

All day thy wings have fanned,

At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere,

Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,

Though the dark night is near.

And soon that toil shall end;

Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest,

And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend,

Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest.

Thou 'rt gone, the abyss of heaven

Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart

Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,

And shall not soon depart.

He who, from zone to zone,

Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,

In the long way that I must tread alone,

Will lead my steps aright.

威廉•库伦•布莱恩特《致水鸟》

你要去往何方?露珠正在坠落，

天穹闪耀着白昼最后的脚步，

远远地，穿过玫瑰色的深处，

你求索着孤独的道路。

也许，猎鸟者的眼睛

徒劳地看着你远飞，想要伤害你，

当红色的天空衬着你的身影，

你飘摇而去。

你想要飞往何处?

要寻觅杂草丛生、潮湿的湖岸?

大河的边沿，还是磨损的海滩?

那里有动荡的巨浪起起落落

有一种力量关照着你，

教导你在无路的海滨，

荒漠和浩淼的长空，

独自漫游，不会迷失。

你整天拍打着翅膀，

扇着远天那寒冷的稀薄大气，

尽管黑夜已靠近，你已疲惫

也不肯屈尊降落安全的大地。

不久那折磨就会结束;

不久你就会找到夏天的家，歇下，

在同伴间欢叫;不久

芦苇将弯下，在你隐蔽的巢上。

你消失了，天空的深渊

吞噬了你的身影;但在我心上

已深深留下你教给我的一课，

它不会很快遗忘。

谁引导你穿过无垠的天空，

从一个领域到另一个领域，

也会在我必须独自跋涉的长途上，

正确地引导我的脚步。