约翰·克莱尔:我在
我在
[英]约翰·克莱尔
王立秋 译
我在:可没人关心或知道我是什么,
我的朋友们弃我如一段忘却的记忆;
我是我的悲哀的自我消耗者,
它们在健忘的主人心中出现而消失,
像失却的爱与死的遗忘中的阴影;
可我在,并活着,和阴影
一起进入嘲讽和噪音的虚无,
进入那清醒的梦的活海,
那里生命的感觉与欢乐全无,
唯有我生的尊严的巨骸;
甚至最亲爱的——我最爱的——人
也变得陌生——不,比其他人更陌生。
我渴望人不曾涉足过的舞台,
一个女人不会微笑也不会哭泣的地方;
在那里与我的创造者,上帝,同在,
并安睡在我如童年般甜美的睡眠中:
既不扰人也不为人所扰,我躺的地方,
下面是草——头上是穹苍。
John Clare, 'I Am'
I Am
by John Clare
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am, and live with shadows tost
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest - that I loved the best -
Are strange - nay, rather stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod,
A place where woman never smiled or wept;
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie,
The grass below - above the vaulted sky.
(http://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/Classic%20Poems/Clare/i_am.htm)
另一个版本:
我在!
[英]约翰·克莱尔
王立秋 译
我在——可没人关心或知道我是什么;
我的朋友们弃我如一段忘却的回忆:
我是我的悲哀的自我消耗者——
它们在健忘的主人心中出现又消失,
像窒息的爱狂乱挣扎的影子
可我还在,还活着——像飘荡的蒸气
进入嘲讽和噪音的虚无,
进入清醒的梦的活海,
那里生命的感觉和欢乐俱无,
唯有我生的尊严的巨骸;
甚至最亲爱的我最爱的人
也变得陌生——不,毋宁说,比其他人更陌生。
我渴望人不曾涉足过的舞台
一个女人不会微笑或哭泣的地方
在那里与我的创造者,上帝同在,
并安睡在我童年的甜美的睡眠中,
既不扰人也不为人所扰,我躺的地方,
下面是草——头上是穹苍。
John Clare, 'I Am'
I Am!
By John Clare
I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes—
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
Even the dearest that I loved the best
Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.
(http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173204)
![]() |
[英]约翰·克莱尔
王立秋 译
我在:可没人关心或知道我是什么,
我的朋友们弃我如一段忘却的记忆;
我是我的悲哀的自我消耗者,
它们在健忘的主人心中出现而消失,
像失却的爱与死的遗忘中的阴影;
可我在,并活着,和阴影
一起进入嘲讽和噪音的虚无,
进入那清醒的梦的活海,
那里生命的感觉与欢乐全无,
唯有我生的尊严的巨骸;
甚至最亲爱的——我最爱的——人
也变得陌生——不,比其他人更陌生。
我渴望人不曾涉足过的舞台,
一个女人不会微笑也不会哭泣的地方;
在那里与我的创造者,上帝,同在,
并安睡在我如童年般甜美的睡眠中:
既不扰人也不为人所扰,我躺的地方,
下面是草——头上是穹苍。
John Clare, 'I Am'
I Am
by John Clare
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am, and live with shadows tost
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest - that I loved the best -
Are strange - nay, rather stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod,
A place where woman never smiled or wept;
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie,
The grass below - above the vaulted sky.
(http://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/Classic%20Poems/Clare/i_am.htm)
另一个版本:
我在!
[英]约翰·克莱尔
王立秋 译
我在——可没人关心或知道我是什么;
我的朋友们弃我如一段忘却的回忆:
我是我的悲哀的自我消耗者——
它们在健忘的主人心中出现又消失,
像窒息的爱狂乱挣扎的影子
可我还在,还活着——像飘荡的蒸气
进入嘲讽和噪音的虚无,
进入清醒的梦的活海,
那里生命的感觉和欢乐俱无,
唯有我生的尊严的巨骸;
甚至最亲爱的我最爱的人
也变得陌生——不,毋宁说,比其他人更陌生。
我渴望人不曾涉足过的舞台
一个女人不会微笑或哭泣的地方
在那里与我的创造者,上帝同在,
并安睡在我童年的甜美的睡眠中,
既不扰人也不为人所扰,我躺的地方,
下面是草——头上是穹苍。
John Clare, 'I Am'
I Am!
By John Clare
I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes—
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
Even the dearest that I loved the best
Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.
(http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173204)
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