英美文學(xué)中經(jīng)典詩(shī)歌翻譯

英美文學(xué)中經(jīng)典詩(shī)歌翻譯

　　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(zhuǎn)舵駛向故鄉(xiāng)的岸

　　久經(jīng)海上風(fēng)浪，慣于浪跡天涯

　　海倫，你的艷麗面容，你那紫藍(lán)的秀髮

　　你那仙女般的豐采令我深信

　　光榮屬於希臘

　　偉大屬於羅馬

　　看呀,在遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)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

　　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;

　　象深邃的蒼穹綴滿繁星，

　　象皎潔的夜空萬(wàn)里無(wú)云。

　　明和暗多么協(xié)調(diào)，

　　深與淺恰如其分;

　　白晝的光線過(guò)于炫耀，

　　柔和的夜色最為溫馨。

　　美匯入她的舉止，

　　美溶進(jìn)她的眼神; 美在烏黑的發(fā)際游弋，

　　美在燦爛的臉上逡巡。

　　不多一絲輝光，

　　不少半點(diǎn)柔陰;

　　包容的思緒彌足珍貴，

　　潛藏的心靈更加香醇;

　　在面頰，在眉宇， 無(wú)言勝似有聲;

　　那里可以體察心緒的平靜， 那里可以領(lǐng)會(huì)情感的溫存。

　　那折服人心的微笑，

　　那淡淡泛起的紅暈，

　　訴說(shuō)著度過(guò)的優(yōu)雅時(shí)光， 透露出沉積的善良品性。

　　人間萬(wàn)事平心以待， 恰似美的天神;

　　一顆心裝著至愛(ài)， 一顆心永遠(yuǎn)真純。

　　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•庫(kù)倫•布萊恩特《致水鳥(niǎo)》

　　你要去往何方?露珠正在墜落，

　　天穹閃耀著白晝最后的腳步，

　　遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)地，穿過(guò)玫瑰色的深處，

　　你求索著孤獨(dú)的道路。

　　也許，獵鳥(niǎo)者的眼睛

　　徒勞地看著你遠(yuǎn)飛，想要傷害你，

　　當(dāng)紅色的天空襯著你的身影，

　　你飄搖而去。

　　你想要飛往何處?

　　要尋覓雜草叢生、潮濕的湖岸?

　　大河的邊沿，還是磨損的海灘?

　　那里有動(dòng)蕩的巨浪起起落落

　　有一種力量關(guān)照著你，

　　教導(dǎo)你在無(wú)路的海濱，

　　荒漠和浩淼的長(zhǎng)空，

　　獨(dú)自漫游，不會(huì)迷失。

　　你整天拍打著翅膀，

　　扇著遠(yuǎn)天那寒冷的稀薄大氣，

　　盡管黑夜已靠近，你已疲憊

　　也不肯屈尊降落安全的大地。

　　不久那折磨就會(huì)結(jié)束;

　　不久你就會(huì)找到夏天的家，歇下，

　　在同伴間歡叫;不久

　　蘆葦將彎下，在你隱蔽的巢上。

　　你消失了，天空的深淵

　　吞噬了你的身影;但在我心上

　　已深深留下你教給我的一課，

　　它不會(huì)很快遺忘。

　　誰(shuí)引導(dǎo)你穿過(guò)無(wú)垠的天空，

　　從一個(gè)領(lǐng)域到另一個(gè)領(lǐng)域，

　　也會(huì)在我必須獨(dú)自跋涉的長(zhǎng)途上，

　　正確地引導(dǎo)我的腳步。

　　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