There is a power upon me which witholds, And makes it my fatality to live, If it be life to wear within myself This barrenness of spirit, and to be My own soul’s sepulchre; for I have ceased To justify my deeds unto myself, The last infirmity of evil.
How beautiful is all this visible world! How glorious in its action and itself! But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns –we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mixed essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride Contending with low wants and lofty will, Till our mortality predominates
I say ’tis blood –my blood –the pure warm stream Which ran in the veins of my fathers, and in ours, When we were in our youth, and had one heart, And loved each other as we should not love; And this was shed –but still it rises up, Colouring the clouds that shut me out from heaven, Where thou art not –and I shall never be.
Thinks’t thou existence doth depend on time? It doth –but actions are our epochs –mine Have made my days and nights imperishable– Endless, and all alike –as sands on the shore, Innumerable atoms, and one desart, Barren and cold, on which the wild waves break, But nothing rests save carcases and wrecks – Rocks –and the salt-surf weeds of bitterness.
Well –though it torture me –’tis but the same – My pang shall find a voice. From my youth upwards, My Spirit walked not with the souls of men, Nor looked upon the earth wih human eyes. The thirst of their Ambition was not mine – The aim of their existence was not mine – My joys –my griefs –my passions and my powers Made me a stranger, though I wore the form I had no sympathy with breathing flesh, I said with men and with the thoughts of men I held but slight communion; but instead, My joy was in the wilderness –to breathe The difficult air of the iced kountain’s top Wherethe birds dare not build, nor insect’s wing Flit o’er the herbless granite;or to plunge Into the torrent –or to roll along In the swift whirl of the new breaking wave Of river–stream or ocean in their flow – In these my early strength exulted ;or To follow through the night the moving moon The stars and their development –or catch The dazzling lightnings till my eyes grew dim, Or to look, listening, on the scattered leaves, While autumn Winds were at their evening–song; These weremy pastimes –and to be alone. For if the beings of whom I was one Hating to be so, crossed me in my path, I felt myself degraded back to them, And was all clay again. And then I dived In my lone wanderings to the caves of death, Searching its cause in its effect, and drew From withered bones, and skulls, and heaped –up dust, Conclusions most forbidden. Then I passed
My Solitude is solitude no more. In phantasy, Imagination, All the affluence of my soul, which one day was A croesus in creation,I plunged deep – But like an ebbing wave it dashed me back Into the gul ph of my unfathomed thought; I plunged amidst mankind –forgetfulness – I sought in all, save where ’tis to be found, And that I have to learn –my cciences, My long pursued and superhuman art, Is mortal here –I dwell in my despair, And live, and live forever.
First Destiny: That knowledge is not happiness, and science But an exchange of ignorance for that Which is another kind of ignorance. This is not all; the passions, attributes Of earth and heaven, from which no power, nor being, Nor breath from the worm upwards is exempt, Have pierced his heart, and in their consequence Made him a thing, which I, who pity not, Yet pardon those who pity. He is mine, And thine, it may be; be it so, or not, No other spirit in this region hath A Soul like his, or power upon his soul
For hitherto all hateful things conspire To bind me in existence, in a life Which makes me shrink from Immortality – A future like the past; I cannot rest – I know not what I ask, nor what I seek – I feel but what thou art –and what I am – And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my Music. Speak to me! For I have called on thee in the still night, Startled the slumbering birds from the hushed boughs, And woke the mountain wolves, and made the caves Acquainted with thy vainly echoed name, Which answered me –many things answered me – Spirits and men –but thou wert silent all; Yet speak to me –I have outwatched the stars, And gazed o’er heaven in vain in search of thee; Speak to me –I have wandered oer the earth And never found thy likeness. Speak to me! Look on the fi ends around –they feel for me – I fear them not –and feel for thee alone – Speak to me, though it be in wrath –but say – I reck not what –but let me hear thee once – This once –once more –
老人家啊！圣人没有权力，祈祷没有魅力， 忏悔没有纯洁的形式，没有外在的表征， 没有斋戒禁食，没有痛苦哀伤，也没有 比这些更大的深沉绝望的内心的苦痛。 这苦痛是不假地狱的恐惧而产生的深深的 懊悔。但是一切的一切本身就足以 化天堂为地狱，它们可以从放荡不羁的 灵魂里驱除对它自身的罪孽、过失、痛楚 以及向自己的报复的敏锐感觉。 任什么未来的痛苦，都不能在自责者身上 执行他在自己的灵魂上所执行的审判 Old man! there is no power in holy men, Nor charm in prayer, nor purifying form, Nor penitence –nor outward look –nor fast – Nor agony –nor, greater than all these, The inward tortures of that deep despair Which is remorse, without the fear of hell, But all in all sufficient to itself Would make a hell of heaven, can exorcise From out the unbounded 上pirit the quick sense Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and revenge Upon itself; there is no future pains Can deal that justice on the self–condemned He deals on his own soul.
Abbot: ’Tis strange ––even those who do despair above, Yet shape themselves some phantasy on earth, To which frail twig they cling like drowning men. Manfred: Aye, Father! I have had those earthly visions, And noble aspirations in my youth To make my own the mind of other men – The enlightener of nations –and to rise, I knew not whither, it might be to fall, But falleven as the mountain –cataract, Which having leapt from its more dazzling height, Even in the foaming strength of its abyss, (Which casts up misty columns that become Clouds raining from the re–ascended skies) Lies low but mighty still. But this is past; My thoughts mistook themselves.
我无法驯服我的天性，因为那意欲 统治人的人必须为人服务，那意欲 在卑微的人群里成为握有权柄的人， 必须谄媚、乞求、时时留心和钻营， 他必定是一个活生生的撒谎者。而 一般的人是卑微的，我不愿和兽群为伍， 即使做它们的首领—做豺狼的首领。 狮子是孤独的，我就像狮子。 I could not tame my nature down; for he Must serve who fain would sway, and soothe, and sue, And watch all time –and pry into all place – And be a living lie –who would become A mighty thing amongst the mean –and such The mass are; I disdained to mingle with A herd, though to be leader, and of wolves. – The lion is alone, and so am I.
因为我的天性就是厌恨生活， 可并不残酷。我不愿制造毁灭， 而只是寻求毁灭。就像那风， 那最寂寞的西蒙所呼出的炽热气息， 它栖居荒原，掠过那百折不摧的 灌木都不生长的沙原， 在荒芜不毛的沙浪上欢腾，嬉戏， 它无所寻求，也无人去寻求它， 可是同它遭遇却能致人与死地。 Because my nature was averse from life – And yet not cruel –for I would not make, But find a desolation! –like the wind, The red–hot breath of the most lone Simoom, Which dwells but in the desart –and sweeps o’er The barren sands, which bear no shrubs to blast, And revels o’er their wild and arid waves, And seeketh not, so that it is not sought, But being met is deadly
Manfred Look on me! –there is an order Of mortals on the earth –who do become Old in their youth –and die e’er middle age, Without the violence of warlike death – Some perishing of pleasure, some of study Some worn with toil, and some with mere weariness – Some of disease, and some Insanity, And some of withered, or of broken hearts – For this last is a malady which slays More than are numbered in the lists of fate, Taking all shapes –and bearing many names – Look upon me! For even of al l these things I have partaken, and of all these things One were enough; then wonder not that I Am what I am, but that I ever was, Or, having been, that I am still on earth.
This should have been a noble creature. He hath all the energy which would have made A goodly frame of glorious elements, Had they been wisely mingled; as it is, It is an awful chaos –Light and Darkness – And mind and dust –and passions and pure thoughts Mixed and contending without end or order – All dormant or destructive.
I donot combat against death, but thee, And thy surrounding angels –my past power Was purchased by no compact with thy crew, But by superior science –penance –daring, And length of watching –strength of mind –and skill In knowledge of our fathers –when the earth Saw Men and spirits walking side by side, And gave ye no supremacy: I stand Upon my strength –I do defy –deny – Spurn back –and scorn ye!
The mind which is immortal makes itself Requital for its good or evil thoughts – Is its own origin of ill and end – And its own place and time –its innate sense, When stripped of this mortality, derives No colour from the fleeting things without, But is absorbed in sufferance or in joy, Born from the knowledge of its own desert.