济慈：Ode on a Grecian Urn试译
Ode on a Grecian Urn
－－John Keats
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know
希腊瓮赋
济慈
伊 寂静的新娘仍旧系处子
伊 沉默与悠悠岁月的养子
深林的史家歌者 谁能传递
比我们韵律更甜蜜的佳事：
书页环饰的传奇四处铭记
你那神性或凡人与共的形体
在潭蓓或阿卡狄的深渊谷溪
什么人或神激起少女恨意？
唆使疯狂追逐，奋起逃逸？
直令笛鼓交鸣，野性狂喜？
听闻的旋律愉悦，听不见
的更甜，舒缓的风笛吹响
不为感官的耳朵，却钟爱
无音调的灵魂，娓娓道来：
树下窈窕淑女，愿伊勿离
林木也不能遮蔽你的歌艺；
莽撞的爱人，从不能吻你
纵使胜利在即，也不妄为肆意；
没有你的保佑，她也不会凋零
你总为爱憔悴，她则历久常新
啊，幸福，幸福的枝蔓！绿叶
不会脱落，春天也不会来告别；
还有那幸福的乐师，不知疲倦
为了那永远的新奇永远地歌唱；
更多幸福的爱！更多幸福与爱！
永远的温暖还在等着体验
永远的脉动，永远的年轻；
瞬间的人欲被远远超前
抛下 痛苦而厌倦的心灵
高烧的前额，焦渴的唇舌
噢，神秘的祭祀，谁在走向
那次献祭？那个年幼的牺牲？
你领的小母牛在天空下低鸣
它那柔软的腰窝有花环装饰
海边的河岸的，或依山而建
有平静堡垒的城镇腾出空间
在这个早上人们几乎都人去楼空
而那小小的城镇，你的街道将会
永久地沉默，没有魂灵能够诉说，
你的造物为何变得荒芜而不复返
噢，雅典的形体！美妙的姿势！
系上编带 如大理石坚强的男人
树枝萦绕 踏着草木的华丽女子
伊，沉默的形式，强令我们失魂
如同永恒所为：叫人心寒的牧歌！
当暮年耗尽世代，我们的忧伤之外，
你当余存其中，对这位人类朋友说
“美即是真，真之美妙
——这就是你在尘世中
能知道和需要知道的一。”
（李镇超 试译）
－－John Keats
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know
希腊瓮赋
济慈
伊 寂静的新娘仍旧系处子
伊 沉默与悠悠岁月的养子
深林的史家歌者 谁能传递
比我们韵律更甜蜜的佳事：
书页环饰的传奇四处铭记
你那神性或凡人与共的形体
在潭蓓或阿卡狄的深渊谷溪
什么人或神激起少女恨意？
唆使疯狂追逐，奋起逃逸？
直令笛鼓交鸣，野性狂喜？
听闻的旋律愉悦，听不见
的更甜，舒缓的风笛吹响
不为感官的耳朵，却钟爱
无音调的灵魂，娓娓道来：
树下窈窕淑女，愿伊勿离
林木也不能遮蔽你的歌艺；
莽撞的爱人，从不能吻你
纵使胜利在即，也不妄为肆意；
没有你的保佑，她也不会凋零
你总为爱憔悴，她则历久常新
啊，幸福，幸福的枝蔓！绿叶
不会脱落，春天也不会来告别；
还有那幸福的乐师，不知疲倦
为了那永远的新奇永远地歌唱；
更多幸福的爱！更多幸福与爱！
永远的温暖还在等着体验
永远的脉动，永远的年轻；
瞬间的人欲被远远超前
抛下 痛苦而厌倦的心灵
高烧的前额，焦渴的唇舌
噢，神秘的祭祀，谁在走向
那次献祭？那个年幼的牺牲？
你领的小母牛在天空下低鸣
它那柔软的腰窝有花环装饰
海边的河岸的，或依山而建
有平静堡垒的城镇腾出空间
在这个早上人们几乎都人去楼空
而那小小的城镇，你的街道将会
永久地沉默，没有魂灵能够诉说，
你的造物为何变得荒芜而不复返
噢，雅典的形体！美妙的姿势！
系上编带 如大理石坚强的男人
树枝萦绕 踏着草木的华丽女子
伊，沉默的形式，强令我们失魂
如同永恒所为：叫人心寒的牧歌！
当暮年耗尽世代，我们的忧伤之外，
你当余存其中，对这位人类朋友说
“美即是真，真之美妙
——这就是你在尘世中
能知道和需要知道的一。”
（李镇超 试译）
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