哈代(Thomas Hardy)

At a Lunar Eclipse 月食 At Castle Boterel 在勃特雷尔城堡
The man he killed 他杀死的人 A Wife In London 伦敦的妻子
The Self-Unseeing 不见自己


At a Lunar Eclipse 月食

At a Lunar Eclipse

Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea,
Now steals along upon the Moon's meek shine
In even monochrome and curving line
Of imperturbable serenity.

How shall I link such sun-cast symmetry
With the torn troubled form I know as thine,
That profile, placid as a brow divine,
With continents of moil and misery?

And can immense Mortality but throw
So small a shade, and Heaven's high human scheme
Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc implies?

Is such the stellar gauge of earthly show,
Nation at war with nation, brains that teem,
Heroes, and women fairer than the skies? 

月食

地球,现在你的阴影
以均匀的单色和曲线
沿着月亮的柔和的光线
从极点到中心,偷偷潜行。

我怎能把阳光投射的匀称美丽
去连结你的深遭折磨的形象?
我怎能把那静如神圣悬崖的侧面像
去连结充满苦难和凄惨的陆地?

巨大的人类怎能只能投下
如此之小的阴影?天堂宏伟的人间规划
能否禁闭在那边弧光所指的海岸?
这是不是星球的量规,来测量
地球表面,战争的民族,涌现的大脑,
英雄,以及比蓝天更美的女郎?

吴笛 译


At Castle Boterel 在勃特雷尔城堡

At Castle Boterel
  	
As I drive to the junction of lane and highway,
And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette,
I look behind at the fading byway,
And see on its slope, now glistening wet,
Distinctly yet

Myself and a girlish form benighted
In dry March weather. We climb the road
Beside a chaise. We had just alighted
To ease the sturdy pony's load
When he sighed and slowed.

What we did as we climbed, and what we talked of
Matters not much, nor to what it led, -
Something that life will not be balked of
Without rude reason till hope is dead,
And feeling fled.

It filled but a minute. But was there ever
A time of such quality, since or before,
In that hill's story? To one mind never,
Though it has been climbed, foot-swift, foot-sore,
By thousands more.

Primaeval rocks form the road's steep border,
And much have they faced there, first and last,
Of the transitory in Earth's long order;
But what they record in colour and cast
Is - that we two passed.

And to me, though Time's unflinching rigour,
In mindless rote, has ruled from sight
The substance now, one phantom figure
Remains on the slope, as when that night
Saw us alight.

I look and see it there, shrinking, shrinking,
I look back at it amid the rain
For the very last time; for my sand is sinking,
And I shall traverse old love's domain
Never again. 

在勃特雷尔城堡

当我驰近夹道与大路的交接处,
  蒙蒙细雨渗透了马车车厢,
我回头看那渐渐隐去的小路,
  在这会儿湿得闪闪发亮的坡上,
    却清晰地看见

我自己和一个少女的身影
  隐现在干燥的三月天的夜色间。
我们跟着马车在这山道上攀行。
  见壮健的小马喘着气步履艰,
    我们跳下车减轻他的负担。

我们一路说过的话,做过的事,
  还有随后发生的情景都可忘却——
丢失了理智人生不会厌弃的事,
  除非到了希望破灭,
    感情枯竭。

那只延续了一刻。可在苍山的阅历中
  此前此后,习曾有过
如此纯真的时刻?在一人的心中,
  纵使千万双捷足攀过这个斜坡,
    也未尝有过。

亘古的 岩构成了山路的屏障,
  它们在此目睹人间长河
古往今来无数瞬息时光;
  但是它们用颜色与形态记下的
    却是——我俩曾为过路客。

在我的心目中,刻板严峻的“时光”,
  虽在冷漠的运行中勾销了那个形体,
一个幽灵却依然留在这斜坡上,
  恰如那一个夜里,
    看见我们在一起。

我凝眸见它在那里,渐渐消隐,
  连忙回头透过细酉
瞧它最后一眼;因为我的生命快尽,
  我不会再去
    旧情之城。
              钱兆明译
  勃特雷尔城堡真名为勃斯堡 (Boscastle),在英
格兰西南部康沃耳郡(Cornwall)东北角,1870年哈代
与埃玛(1874年与哈代结为夫妻)同游时是个小渔港,
现已成为游览区。勃特雷尔城堡是哈代杜撰的名字,
那里实际并无城堡。


The man he killed 他杀死的人

The man he killed

"Ad he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!
             
"But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.
             
"I shot him dead because --
Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
That's clear enough; although

"He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
Off-hand like -- just as I --
Was out of work -- had sold his traps --
No other reason why.
             
"Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat if met where any bar is,
Or help to half-a-crown."

他杀死的人

 “要是他同我相逢在
 一家古老的酒店中,
我们会坐下来,并且很快
 会一起干掉好几盅!

 “可既在步兵队伍里,
 又瞪视着彼此面庞,
我像他一样,朝对方射击,
 把他击毙在那地方。

 “我射杀了他,只因———
 只因他是我的仇敌,
不错,他当然是我的敌人;
 这相当清楚;虽说是

 “他可能认为:他参军
 也像我是出于无奈——
或因失业,或已当光卖尽
 找不出别的缘故来。

 “对呀,打仗真古怪!
 被你射倒的那对方,
倘酒馆里相遇,你会款待,
 或帮助他半个克朗。”①
             黄杲炘译
  ①英国旧时的五先令硬币称克朗。这也是欧洲
其它一些国家的货币单位。


A Wife In London 伦敦的妻子

A Wife In London

I

She sits in the tawny vapour
That the Thames-side lanes have uprolled,
Behind whose webby fold-on-fold
Like a waning taper
The street-lamp glimmers cold.

A messenger’s knock cracks smartly,
Flashed news in her hand
Of meaning it dazes to understand
Though shaped so shortly:
He—he has fallen—in the far South Land…

II

’Tis the morrow; the fog hangs thicker,
The postman nears and goes:
A letter is brought whose lines disclose
By the firelight flicker
His hand, whom the worm now knows:

Fresh—firm—penned in highest feather—
Page-full of his hoped return,
And of home-planned jaunts of brake and burn
In the summer weather,
And of new love that they would learn.

伦敦的妻子

              (一)

泰晤士河边条条小巷一片浓雾,
她独自坐在褐色雾气的深处,
透过重重的雾帐,
街灯象一支残烛,
闪着寒冷的微光。
敲门声清晰响亮,
送信人把急电交到她手上。
电文内容虽然简短,
却使她猛一下眩晕倘恍:
他——在南方遥远的土地上——阵亡……

               (二)

第二天清晨大雾更浓,
邮递员送信来去匆匆。
闪闪的炉火照着一封家书,
字字行行都是他亲笔写出,
而那只手呀,此刻已有蛆虫光顾。

墨迹犹新,字体坚实,意气昂扬,
满篇都倾诉他渴望还乡:
他打算就在明朗的夏天,
徜徉在故乡的溪畔林间,
他们要把爱情重新体验。
            张玲 张扬 译


The Self-Unseeing 不见自己

The Self-Unseeing

Here is the ancient floor,
Footworn and hollowed and thin,
Here was the former door
Where the dead feet walked in.

She sat here in her chair,
Smiling into the fire;
He who played stood there,
Bowing it higher and higher.

Childlike, I danced in a dream;
Blessings emblazoned that day;
Everything glowed with a gleam;
Yet we were looking away!

不见自己

这就是当年的地板,
磨得又光又薄还有坑,
这里当初有个门扇,
死者进来留下了足痕。

她就坐在这边椅子上,
望着炉火盈盈地微笑;
他奏着琴儿站在一旁,
琴弓越拉调儿越高。

我如稚儿在梦中舞蹈,
喜悦给那天披上了盛装,
一切都闪烁着光耀,
而我们却移开了目光!
           钱兆明译


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