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译狄兰·托马斯《十月的诗》

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发表于 2017-10-10 12:21 | 显示全部楼层 |阅读模式
十月的诗

这是我去天堂的第三十年
醒来我倾听港口和近旁树林
贻贝聚合,苍鹭
在岸上铺路
清晨呼唤
用水的祷词与海鸥白鸦的啼鸣
而帆叩响网织的墙
我自己涉足
这瞬间
从依然沉睡的小镇动身。
 
我的生日始于水——
鸟和展翅的树鸟放飞我的名字
在农庄和白马之上
我起身
在多雨之秋
在我所有日子的阵雨中外出。
水涨鹭潜,当我上路
越过边界
而城门
在小镇醒来时关闭。

活泼的百灵在流泻的
云中,路旁的灌木溢满
黑鸟的耳语,十月的太阳
夏天一般
悬在山肩上,
天气温和,甜蜜的歌手突然
步入我游荡并倾听的
雨水淋透的清晨
风吹冷
我脚下遥远的树林。

苍白的雨在狭窄的海湾上
在被海打湿的蜗牛大小的教堂上
用角穿透迷雾,而城堡
棕褐如枭
但春夏的一切花园
在谎言中怒放 
在边界百灵密布的云下
我惊奇
为我的生日
但天气突变。

它逃离欢乐的国土
随另一气流和变蓝的天空直下
再次涌进夏天的惊愕
和苹果
梨,红醋栗一起
在转变中我清晰地看到孩子
在被遗忘的清晨和母亲
穿过阳光的
寓言
和绿色小教堂的传说

和再次被告知的幼年田野
他的泪灼痛我的面颊,他的心在我胸中悸动。
在林中,溪边和海畔
一个孩子
正在倾听
逝去的夏天向树木,石头
和潮中的鱼低诉欢愉的真理
而神秘
尚在
水中与啼鸟中欢唱。

那里我会为我的生日惊奇
但天气突变。长眠的孩子
歌唱的真正快乐
在太阳中燃烧。
这是我去天堂的
第三十年,我立在夏日的正午
尽管下面的小镇满树十月的血。
哦,愿我心中的真理
仍在这
转变之年的山巅上歌唱。

Poem In October

It was my thirtieth year to heaven
Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood
And the mussel pooled and the heron
Priested shore
The morning beckon
With water praying and call of seagull and rook
And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall
Myself to set foot
That second
In the still sleeping town and set forth.

My birthday began with the water-
Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name
Above the farms and the white horses
And I rose
In rainy autumn
And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.
High tide and the heron dived when I took the road
Over the border
And the gates
Of the town closed as the town awoke.

A springful of larks in a rolling
Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling
Blackbirds and the sun of October
Summery
On the hill's shoulder,
Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly
Come in the morning where I wandered and listened
To the rain wringing
Wind blow cold
In the wood faraway under me.

Pale rain over the dwindling harbour
And over the sea wet church the size of a snail
With its horns through mist and the castle
Brown as owls
But all the gardens
Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales
Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud.
There could I marvel
My birthday
Away but the weather turned around.

It turned away from the blithe country
And down the other air and the blue altered sky
Streamed again a wonder of summer
With apples
Pears and red currants
And I saw in the turning so clearly a child's
Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother
Through the parables
Of sun light
And the legends of the green chapels

And the twice told fields of infancy
That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine.
These were the woods the river and sea
Where a boy
In the listening
Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy
To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide.
And the mystery
Sang alive
Still in the water and singingbirds.

And there could I marvel my birthday
Away but the weather turned around. And the true
Joy of the long dead child sang burning
In the sun.
It was my thirtieth
Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon
Though the town below lay leaved with October blood.
O may my heart's truth
Still be sung
On this high hill in a year's turning.
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发表于 2017-10-12 20:47 | 显示全部楼层
很美的一首诗。 翻译得好。
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