曼根:无名者
曼根:无名者
[爱]詹姆斯·克莱伦斯·曼根 著
王立秋 试译
冲向前,我的歌,像激流的河
一路扫向大海;
上帝会启迪我而我把我的灵魂
献给你!
告诉你世界,当我躺下的尸骨
在老少最后的家中发白,
告诉你曾有一个人血管里流着
没人见过的闪电。
告诉你他童年是怎样阴沉的夜
透过他的痛苦和悲哀,
上天派来照亮我们通往坟墓的
路的无有之星是如何闪耀。
冲上前,我的歌,去追赶时代
告诉世人他是怎样蔑视尘
所予的一切,从智慧的书页教人
生活的方式。
告诉人们他是怎样被虚弱、疾病,
和错误所践踏、愚弄、憎恨,
并到上帝那里寻求庇护,祂把他
的灵魂和歌结为伴侣——
和那永远崇高或乏味的,永远
像晨光中的溪流一样流淌,
也许不深,却激烈而湍急——
山涧一样的歌。
告诉人们无名者,这多年来被控
与来自地狱的恶魔为伍的人,
是如何看待那些使他呻吟流泪,
甚至渴望死亡的东西。
继续告诉他们,才华被浪费,
被友谊背叛,被爱情愚弄,
精神被摧毁,年轻的希望枯萎
的他依然,依然奋斗。
直到,在苦役缠身,为他人承受死亡,
而一些人本应为他出力的时候
(如果孩子或者不是为了父母),
他的心灵变得暗淡。
他深深堕入那无底的坑,
玛金和伯恩斯的深渊和坟墓,
为恶魔可怕的回报典当了
他的灵魂。
却在黑暗的日子里赎回了它,
和最后的愤怒的形状和符号,
当死亡,以可怕而恐怖的裸体,
站在他的路上。
告诉人们现在,在摧残与悲痛,
匮乏,和疾病,和无家可归的夜里,
他是怎样在平静中等候无光的
沉默的明天。
即使这样他还活着?是!三十九岁
就因绝望和悲愁而苍老白发,
他活着,忍受着未来的故事不会
知道的一切。
有怜悯之心的高贵的人们,在你们心里
给他一个坟墓!让他住在那里!
他,也为所有困苦的灵魂垂泪,
在这里,和地狱。
(《詹姆斯·克莱伦斯·曼根未刊诗作》,载《爱尔兰人》,1849年10月27日。)
The Nameless One
James Clarence Mangan
ROLL forth, my song, like the rushing river
That sweeps along to the mighty sea;
God will inspire me while I deliver
My soul to thee!
Tell thou the world, when my bones lie whitening 5
Amid the last homes of youth and eld,
That there once was one whose veins ran lightning
No eye beheld.
Tell how his boyhood was one drear night-hour,
How shone for him, through his griefs and gloom, 10
No star of all heaven sends to light our
Path to the tomb.
Roll on, my song, and to after ages
Tell how, disdaining all earth can give,
He would have taught men from wisdom’s pages 15
The way to live.
And tell how trampled, derided, hated,
And worn by weakness, disease and wrong,
He fled for shelter to God, who mated
His soul with song— 20
With song which alway, sublime or vapid,
Flowed like a rill in the morning beam,
Perchance not deep, but intense and rapid—
A mountain stream.
Tell how the Nameless, condemned for years long 25
To herd with demons from hell beneath,
Saw things that made him, with groans and tears, long
For even death.
Go on to tell how, with genius wasted,
Betrayed in friendship, befooled in love, 30
With spirit shipwrecked, and young hopes blasted
He still, still strove.
Till, spent with toil, dreeing death for others,
And some whose hands should have wrought for him
(If children live not for sires and mothers), 35
His mind grew dim.
And he fell far through that pit abysmal,
The gulf and grave of Maginn and Burns,
And pawned his soul for the devil’s dismal
Stock of returns. 40
But yet redeemed it in days of darkness,
And shapes and signs of the final wrath,
When death, in hideous and ghastly starkness,
Stood in his path.
And tell how now, amid wreck and sorrow, 45
And want, and sickness, and houseless nights,
He bides in calmness the silent morrow
That no ray lights.
And lives he still then? Yes! Old and hoary
At thirty-nine, from despair and woe, 50
He lives, enduring what future story
Will never know.
Him grant a grave to, ye pitying noble,
Deep in your bosoms! There let him dwell!
He, too, had tears for all souls in trouble, 55
Here and in hell.
["Unpublished Poems of James Clarence Mangan", Irishman, 27 October 1849]
©James Clarence Mangan, trans. Liqiu Wang.
[爱]詹姆斯·克莱伦斯·曼根 著
王立秋 试译
冲向前,我的歌,像激流的河
一路扫向大海;
上帝会启迪我而我把我的灵魂
献给你!
告诉你世界,当我躺下的尸骨
在老少最后的家中发白,
告诉你曾有一个人血管里流着
没人见过的闪电。
告诉你他童年是怎样阴沉的夜
透过他的痛苦和悲哀,
上天派来照亮我们通往坟墓的
路的无有之星是如何闪耀。
冲上前,我的歌,去追赶时代
告诉世人他是怎样蔑视尘
所予的一切,从智慧的书页教人
生活的方式。
告诉人们他是怎样被虚弱、疾病,
和错误所践踏、愚弄、憎恨,
并到上帝那里寻求庇护,祂把他
的灵魂和歌结为伴侣——
和那永远崇高或乏味的,永远
像晨光中的溪流一样流淌,
也许不深,却激烈而湍急——
山涧一样的歌。
告诉人们无名者,这多年来被控
与来自地狱的恶魔为伍的人,
是如何看待那些使他呻吟流泪,
甚至渴望死亡的东西。
继续告诉他们,才华被浪费,
被友谊背叛,被爱情愚弄,
精神被摧毁,年轻的希望枯萎
的他依然,依然奋斗。
直到,在苦役缠身,为他人承受死亡,
而一些人本应为他出力的时候
(如果孩子或者不是为了父母),
他的心灵变得暗淡。
他深深堕入那无底的坑,
玛金和伯恩斯的深渊和坟墓,
为恶魔可怕的回报典当了
他的灵魂。
却在黑暗的日子里赎回了它,
和最后的愤怒的形状和符号,
当死亡,以可怕而恐怖的裸体,
站在他的路上。
告诉人们现在,在摧残与悲痛,
匮乏,和疾病,和无家可归的夜里,
他是怎样在平静中等候无光的
沉默的明天。
即使这样他还活着?是!三十九岁
就因绝望和悲愁而苍老白发,
他活着,忍受着未来的故事不会
知道的一切。
有怜悯之心的高贵的人们,在你们心里
给他一个坟墓!让他住在那里!
他,也为所有困苦的灵魂垂泪,
在这里,和地狱。
(《詹姆斯·克莱伦斯·曼根未刊诗作》,载《爱尔兰人》,1849年10月27日。)
The Nameless One
James Clarence Mangan
ROLL forth, my song, like the rushing river
That sweeps along to the mighty sea;
God will inspire me while I deliver
My soul to thee!
Tell thou the world, when my bones lie whitening 5
Amid the last homes of youth and eld,
That there once was one whose veins ran lightning
No eye beheld.
Tell how his boyhood was one drear night-hour,
How shone for him, through his griefs and gloom, 10
No star of all heaven sends to light our
Path to the tomb.
Roll on, my song, and to after ages
Tell how, disdaining all earth can give,
He would have taught men from wisdom’s pages 15
The way to live.
And tell how trampled, derided, hated,
And worn by weakness, disease and wrong,
He fled for shelter to God, who mated
His soul with song— 20
With song which alway, sublime or vapid,
Flowed like a rill in the morning beam,
Perchance not deep, but intense and rapid—
A mountain stream.
Tell how the Nameless, condemned for years long 25
To herd with demons from hell beneath,
Saw things that made him, with groans and tears, long
For even death.
Go on to tell how, with genius wasted,
Betrayed in friendship, befooled in love, 30
With spirit shipwrecked, and young hopes blasted
He still, still strove.
Till, spent with toil, dreeing death for others,
And some whose hands should have wrought for him
(If children live not for sires and mothers), 35
His mind grew dim.
And he fell far through that pit abysmal,
The gulf and grave of Maginn and Burns,
And pawned his soul for the devil’s dismal
Stock of returns. 40
But yet redeemed it in days of darkness,
And shapes and signs of the final wrath,
When death, in hideous and ghastly starkness,
Stood in his path.
And tell how now, amid wreck and sorrow, 45
And want, and sickness, and houseless nights,
He bides in calmness the silent morrow
That no ray lights.
And lives he still then? Yes! Old and hoary
At thirty-nine, from despair and woe, 50
He lives, enduring what future story
Will never know.
Him grant a grave to, ye pitying noble,
Deep in your bosoms! There let him dwell!
He, too, had tears for all souls in trouble, 55
Here and in hell.
["Unpublished Poems of James Clarence Mangan", Irishman, 27 October 1849]
©James Clarence Mangan, trans. Liqiu Wang.
生活本身是坟墓
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