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雪梨读诗by哈佛雪梨

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用声音,在一起

塞林格《破碎故事之心》:爱是想触碰又收回手The Heart of a Broken Story

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朗读:哈佛雪梨
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BGM:Ken Arai - SOLITUDE

The Heart of a Broken Story
J. D. Salinger
《破碎故事之心》节选
塞林格

I hope a few lines will not annoy or embarrass you. I'm writing because I'd like you to know that I am not a common thief. I could think of no way to become acquainted with you except by acting rashly—foolishly, to be accurate. But then, one is a fool when one is in love.
我希望这些话不会让你烦恼或尴尬。我写下这些,是因为我想让你知道,我不是寻常意义上的小偷。我想不出任何办法来认识你,除了做出轻率的举动,确切来说,是愚蠢的行为。可你知道,恋爱中的人总是愚蠢的。

I loved the way your lips were so slightly parted. You represented the answer to everything to me. I can best describe myself as having been one of the thousands of young men who simply exist.
我爱你双唇微启的模样。你为我揭开了万事万物的谜底。说起来,我原本和成千上万的年轻人一样,只是活着罢了。

Loving you is the important thing. There are some people who think love is sex and marriage and six o'clock-kisses and children, and perhaps it is. But do you know what I think? I think love is a touch and yet not a touch.
爱你是唯一重要的事。有人认为爱是性,是婚姻,是清晨六点的吻,是生一堆孩子,也许真是这样的。但你知道我怎么想吗?我觉得爱是想触碰又收回手。

May 20 2021

1min

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【重制】聂鲁达《我喜欢你是寂静的》:如一个吻封缄你唇 To Be Still

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I Like For You To Be Still
我喜欢你是寂静的
Pablo Neruda
巴勃罗·聂鲁达
(李宗荣 译)

I like for you to be still
我喜欢你是寂静的
It is as though you are absent
仿佛你消失了一样
And you hear me from far away
你从远处聆听我
And my voice does not touch you
我的声音却无法触及你
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
好像你的双眼已经飞离去
And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth
如同一个吻封缄了你的嘴
As all things are filled with my soul
如同所有的事物充满了我的灵魂
You emerge from the things
你从所有的事物中浮现
Filled with my soul
充满了我的灵魂
You are like my soul
你像我的灵魂
A butterfly of dream
一只梦的蝴蝶
And you are like the word
你如同一个词
Melancholy
忧郁

I like for you to be still
我喜欢你是寂静的
And you seem far away
好像你已远去
It sounds as though you are lamenting
你听起来像在悲叹
A butterfly cooing like a dove
一只如鸽悲鸣的蝴蝶
And you hear me from far away
你从远处听见我
And my voice does not reach you
我的声音无法触及你
Let me come to be still in your silence
让我在你的沉默中安静无声
And let me talk to you with your silence
并且让我借你的沉默与你说话
That is bright as a lamp
你的沉默明亮如灯
Simple, as a ring
简单如指环
You are like the night
你就像黑夜
With its stillness and constellations
拥有寂寞与群星
Your silence is that of a star
你的沉默就是星星的沉默
As remote and candid
遥远而明亮

I like for you to be still
我喜欢你是寂静的
It is as though you are absent
仿佛你消失了一样
Distant and full of sorrow
遥远而且哀伤
So you would've died
仿佛你已经不在尘世
One word then
彼时 一个字
One smile is enough
一个微笑 已经足够
And I'm happy
而我会觉得幸福
Happy that it's not true
因那不是真的而觉得幸福

巴勃鲁·聂鲁达(1904-1973),智利诗人。1971年凭作品《情诗·哀诗·赞诗》获诺贝尔文学奖,获奖理由:“诗歌具有自然力般的作用,复苏了一个大陆的命运与梦想”。

诗歌选自诗集《二十首情诗和一首绝望的歌》,原文为西班牙语。

BGM: Brokeback Mountain Theme Song

Apr 19 2021

1min

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奥登《葬礼蓝调》:他曾是我的正午,我的夜半 Funeral Blues 重制

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朗读:雪梨
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BGM:Dieter's Theme - Klaus Badelt

威斯坦·休·奥登(1907-1973),英裔美国诗人、文学评论家。早期诗歌多写战争题材,后期转向宗教题材,是艾略特之后重要的一代诗人。​

Funeral Blues
Wystan Hugh Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West.
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

《葬礼蓝调》
威斯坦·休·奥登
(娜斯 译)

停止所有的时钟,切断电话,
给狗一块浓汁的骨头,让他别叫,
黯哑了钢琴,随着低沉的鼓,
抬出灵柩,让哀悼者前来。

让直升机在头顶悲旋,
在天空狂草着信息他已逝去,
把黑纱系在信鸽的白颈,
让交通员戴上黑色的手套。

他曾经是我的东,我的西,我的南,我的北,
我的工作天,我的休息日,
我的正午,我的夜半,我的话语,我的歌吟,
我以为爱可以不朽,我错了。

不再需要星星,把每一颗都摘掉,
把月亮包起,拆除太阳,
倾泻大海,扫除森林,
因为什么也不会,再有意味。

Apr 07 2021

2mins

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曼德尔施塔姆《我恨千篇一律的星光》:I Hate the Starlight

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​BGM: You're Gloating - Carlos Rafael Rivera

I Hate the Starlight
我恨千篇一律的……
Osip Mandelstam
О. Э. 曼德尔施塔姆

I hate the starlight's
monotonous spectrum.
Hail, ancient delirium –
tower's arrowed heights!
我恨千篇一律的
星星之光。
你好,拔地而起的钟楼——
我久远的梦想。

Be lace, be stone,
be a cobweb spell:
pierce the empty zone
with the finest needle.
成为石头,成为花边,
成为蛛网;
用一根细长的钢针
刺进虚空的胸膛。

My turn will arrive –
I sense the wing's sweep.
Yes - but where will my live
arrows of mind leap?
我的时辰将至——我感到
正振动翅膀。
如此——但活跃的思想之箭
将射向何方?

Or I'll return, my move
and time worked through:
there – I couldn't love,
and here – I'm afraid to…
或许,一旦走完自己的路,
我会还乡:
在那儿——我欲爱不能,
在这儿——我爱之彷徨……

Mar 26 2021

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伊丽莎白一世《离别后》:头戴皇冠,必承其重 Monsieur's Departure

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BGM:ANANT-GARDE EYES - Unjust life

伊丽莎白一世《离别后》:头戴王冠,必承其重 Monsieur&`&s Departure

这首诗歌的作者是伊丽莎白一世(1533-1603),都铎王朝最后一位君主,英格兰与爱尔兰的女王(1558-1603在位),也是名义上的法国女王。伊丽莎白一世统治时期,在英国历史上在位时被称为“黄金时代”。伊丽莎白一世于终身未嫁,被称为“童贞女王”,也被称为“荣光女王”、“英明女王”。伊丽莎白一世在位期间,正值英国文艺复兴的鼎盛时期,因此在文学史土称为“伊丽莎白时代”。

伊丽莎白一世年轻时,利用她未婚待嫁的身份,对先后向其求婚的西班牙、神圣罗马帝国、法国、瑞典等王室虚与委蛇,为英国最大限度地谋求国家利益。读这首诗,不得不为她叹息。

On Monsieur&`&s Departure
Elizabeth I

在他离别后
伊丽莎白一世

I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself another self I turned.

我伤心却不敢流露不快,
我挚爱,却被迫强装是在恨,
我有意,却不敢说我想说;
心里絮叨着千言万语,表面却是哑然无声:
我是自己,我不是自己;我冻僵了,我被焚烧;
因为我的自我分裂了,一个我背离了另一个我。

My care is like my shadow in the sun,
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.

心中的牵挂,就像我阳光下的影子;
我追它就逃,我逃它就跟着我;
事事都来搀和,时时纠缠不清:
对他过多的思念,使我懊恼烦闷;
永世难以把他从心底驱走,除非就此把一切了结干净。

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die and so forget what love eer meant.

爱神啊,请把温和一些的激情装进我的心灵,
因为我柔弱如融雪;
要么对我更加残忍,要么对我大发善心;
让我升天或者入地,让我或浮或沉;
或者让我活,那就该多给我一些爱的甜蜜,
或者让我死,那么我就能忘却爱的真谛。

Mar 21 2021

2mins

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费兹《你到来之前》:你来之后,世界如我的心般鲜红 Before you came

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BGM: The Rain - 久石让

这是一首我觉得很美的情诗,送给你们。

Before You Came
你到来之前
Faiz Ahmed Faiz
费兹·艾赫迈德·费兹

Before you came,
你到来之前,
things were as they should be:
世界是它该有的模样:
the sky was the dead-end of sight,
天空只是视线的尽头
the road was just a road, wine merely wine.
路只是一条路 酒只是一杯酒

Now everything is like my heart,
现在一切如同我的心
a color at the edge of blood:
血液边缘的颜色:
the grey of your absence, the color of poison, of thorns,
你缺席的灰色,毒药的颜色,还有荆棘,
the gold when we meet, the season ablaze,
我们见面时的金色,燃烧的季节,
the yellow of autumn, the red of flowers, of flames,
秋天的黄,花朵的红,还有火焰
and the black when you cover the earth
还有黑色,当你用燃尽的煤
with the coal of dead fires.
覆盖大地

And the sky, the road, the glass of wine?
天空,路,和那杯酒呢?
The sky is a shirt wet with tears,
天空是泪水濡湿的一件衬衫
the road a vein about to break,
路是行将破裂的血管
and the glass of wine a mirror in which
酒是一面镜子
the sky, the road, the world keep changing.
映照着天空,路和整个世界不停变幻

Don&`&t leave now that you&`&re here—
你既来了,就请别走
Stay. So the world may become like itself again:
留下把。让世界变回它本来的模样:
so the sky may be the sky,
天空变回天空,
the road a road,
路变回路,
and the glass of wine not a mirror, just a glass of wine.
那杯酒不再是镜子,而只是一杯酒。

Mar 16 2021

2mins

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恩梅彬忧《原谅我神父》:我的神明是女人 Forgive me father

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BGM: Kyrie - Isobel Waller-Bridge / RSVP Voices (From Fleabag)

国际妇女节要到了。祝天底下所有女性节日快乐。

Ijeoma Umebinyuo
原谅我 神父
(尼日利亚)恩梅彬忧
郑体武 译

Forgive me father,
but sometimes my God
is a woman
sitting on the kitchen floor
her hands holding her legs
screaming for help
without making a sound.

原谅我,神父,
但有时我的上帝
是个女人
坐在厨房地上
双手抱腿
尖声呼救
却发不出声音

Forgive me father
but sometimes my God
is a woman
calling me on the phone
begging me to call her
"beautiful"
because her lover forced
ugliness into her soul.

原谅我,神父
但有时我的上帝
是个女人
打电话给我
求我称她
“漂亮”
因为她的爱人逼着
丑陋进入她的灵魂。

Forgive me father
but sometimes my God
is a woman
crying in the shower
begging for another God
to lift her burden.

原谅我,神父,
但有时我的上帝
是个女人
在淋浴时哭泣
祈求另一个上帝
解除她的负担。

Mar 07 2021

1min

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邓恩《谁都不是一座孤岛》:不要问丧钟为谁而鸣 No Man's an Island

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BGM: You&`&re Done - Rob Simonsen

这是一首由英国诗人约翰·多恩创作的布道词。海明威于1940年创作的长篇小说《丧钟为谁而鸣》,标题就取自本诗。

No Man is an Island
谁都不是一座孤岛
John Donne
约翰·邓恩

No man is an island,
谁都不是一座孤岛,
Entire of itself;
谁都无法自全而活。
Every man is a piece of the continent,
每个个体都是大陆一小片,
A part of the main.
是这整体的一个组成部分。
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
如果大海冲掉下一小块儿,
Europe is the less.
那恰恰是欧洲减小的部分。
As well as if a promontory were.
就如同一个海岬失掉一角,
As well as if a manor of thy friend&`&s
就如同你的领地缺失一席,
Or of thine own were:
或如同你的朋友失去一个。
Any man&`&s death diminishes me,
任何人的逝去都是我的损失,
Because I am involved in mankind,
因为我正是人类中的一份子,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
因此,不要问丧钟为谁而鸣,
It tolls for thee.
它为你我而鸣。

Mar 03 2021

1min

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史蒂威《不是挥手而是求救》:我这一生离岸太远 Not Waving

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BGM:Hurt - Johnny Cash

​​​雪梨第一次听到这首诗歌,是在美剧《后翼弃兵》当中。

Not Waving but Drowning
不是挥手,而是求救
Stevie Smith
史蒂威·史密斯
(雪梨 译)

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
没人听见他的声音,那个死去的人,
But still he lay moaning:
可他还蜷缩着呜咽:
I was much further out than you thought
我离岸太远,比你想得远得多
And not waving but drowning.
不是挥手,而是溺水。

Poor chap, he always loved larking
可怜的小伙子,他总是喜欢热热闹闹的
And now he’s dead
现在他死了
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
一定是太冷,他的心脏跳不动了,
They said.
他们说。

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
喔,不不不,一向都是这样冷
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
(死去的人还在呜咽)
I was much too far out all my life
我这一生实在离岸太远
And not waving but drowning.
我不是在挥手,而是在在求救。

Feb 26 2021

1min

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【重制】惠特曼《致陌生人》:我们擦肩而过 To a Stranger

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惠特曼《致陌生人》:我们擦肩而过 To a Stranger

朗读:雪梨
BGM:Jolene! - Carlos Rafael Rivera
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To a Stranger
Walt Whitman
致陌生人
沃尔特·惠特曼
(雪梨 译)

沃尔特·惠特曼(1819-1892),美国诗人,开创了诗歌的自由体(Free Verse,不受格律、韵脚或其他音乐节拍约束的诗歌形式),代表作品为《草叶集》。

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
过路的陌生人啊!你不知道我是多么热切地注视着你,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking (It comes to me as a dream)
你必是我寻觅的他,或是我寻觅的她(这降临宛如梦境)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
我肯定与你在某处快乐地生活过,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
当我们掠过彼此,往事重现,似水、深情、纯洁、成熟,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
你曾与我一同成长,是同我作伴的男孩,亦或同我作伴的女孩,
I ate with you and slept with you—your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
我们吃在一块睡在一块——你的肉体不再仅仅是你自己的,我的肉体也不单属于我自己,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh as we pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
当我们擦肩而过,你的眼、面孔、肉体予我欢喜——我的胡须、胸膛、双手,同样也给你带来快乐,
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
我不会与你攀谈——我会思念你,当我独坐或在深夜醒来,孤身一人,
I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
我将等待——我毫不怀疑我们将会重逢。
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
我决不会再失去你。

Feb 17 2021

1min

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蒂斯黛尔《柔雨将至》:如果第三次世界大战爆发 There'll Come Soft Rain

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这首诗歌,前半部分描述了生机勃勃的自然景象,但是后半部分我们才发现,这是战争后重生的世界,人类已经不复存在。

There Will Come Soft Rain
Sara Teasdale
柔雨将至
莎拉·蒂斯黛尔
(韩鲁珩 译)
(末两节雪梨改译)

There will come soft rain and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
柔雨将至,泥土芬芳
燕子盘旋,啼声抑扬

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
夜下的池边青蛙鸣鼓
野李子树闪烁月光

Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
知更鸟将披上如火的羽毛
在矮篱笆上把哨子吹响

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
没人会知道战争,没人在意
一切消失在那最后的时光

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
谁都不会在意,不论鸟和树
都不会在意人类彻底消亡

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
春天,她会在黎明醒来
全然不觉,我们已不在世上

BGM:吴欣睿 - 三个人的时光

Jan 20 2021

1min

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聂鲁达《如果你将我忘记》:倘若你渐渐不再爱我 If You Forget M

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If You Forget Me
by Pablo Neruda
如果你将我忘记
巴勃鲁·聂鲁达

I want you to know
有件事
one thing.
我想让你知道。

You know how this is:
你该明白是什么:
if I look
如果我倚在窗边,
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
凝望那晶莹的月,
of the slow autumn at my window,
那被慢板的秋染红的树枝,
if I touch
如果我
near the fire
在火炉边,
the impalpable ash
触摸那细不可触的灰烬,
or the wrinkled body of the log,
或是柴木那褶皱的身躯,
everything carries me to you,
一切的一切都把我带向你,
as if everything that exists,
如同这所有存在的,
aromas, light, metals,
气味,光亮,金属,
were little boats
都仿佛小小的船,
that sail
驶向
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
等待我的,你的岛屿。

Well, now,
那么,现在,
if little by little you stop loving me
如果渐渐的,你不再爱我,
I shall stop loving you little by little.
我也会渐渐的,不再爱你。

If suddenly
如果,突然,
you forget me
你忘记了我,
do not look for me,
不要找寻我,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
因为我必定已经将你忘记。

If you think it long and mad,
如果你认为
the wind of banners
那穿越我生命的旗帜的风
that passes through my life,
太漫长,太狂野,
and you decide
而决定
to leave me at the shore
将我独自留在
of the heart where I have roots,
我所扎根的心的海岸,
remember
请记得,
that on that day,
在那天,
at that hour,
那一刻,
I shall lift my arms
我将举起我的双臂,
and my roots will set off
我的根也将出发,
to seek another land.
去寻找另一片土地。

But
但是
if each day,
如果每一天
each hour,
每一刻,
you feel that you are destined for me
你都感觉你是注定为我而存在,
with implacable sweetness,
带着奇妙的甜蜜,
if each day a flower
如果每一天都有一朵花
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
爬上你的唇寻找我,
ah my love, ah my own,
我的爱,我的爱人,
in me all that fire is repeated,
我心中的火焰将一次次燃起,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
在我心中,不会熄灭不会忘记,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
你的爱养育着我的爱,爱人,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
在你有生之日,它都在你的怀里,
without leaving mine.
与我永不分离。

BGM:全秀妍 - Memory Of Heart

Jan 16 2021

3mins

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「饿梨英语」出生啦!

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欢迎来饿梨英语呀。

Jul 16 2020

1min

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Hey 一个时隔两年的问候

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请不要大意地留言呀!谢谢大家。

@一只不加冰糖的雪梨

May 20 2020

1min

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圣诞特辑!华兹华斯《吟游诗人》The Minstrels - Wordsworth

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圣诞特辑!
The Minstrels

the minstrels played their christmas tune
to-night beneath my cottage-eaves;
while, smitten by a lofty moon,
the encircling laurels, thick with leaves,
gave back a rich and dazzling sheen,
that overpowered their natural green.
吟游诗人哼着他们的圣诞节曲调,
今夜,在我的田舍小屋下。
此时,高耸的月亮给予他们灵感。
层层的月桂树,覆盖着叶子,
映射着饱满眩目的光泽,
早已经超越了他们原有的颜色。

through hill and valley every breeze
had sunk to rest with folded wings:
keen was the air, but could not freeze,
nor check, the music of the strings;
so stout and hardy were the band
that scraped the chords with strenuous hand.
穿过山谷的每一阵微风下沉收起翅膀:
风是那么锋利,但永不冷漠,
也不核对,弦音声声:
一层层又如此的强烈刚强,
用热烈的手摩擦着弦柱。

and who but listened?--till was paid
respect to every inmate&`&s claim,
the greeting given, the music played
in honour of each household name,
duly pronounced with lusty call,
但是谁在听?这个取决于同住的人的主张,
给个问候,做个音乐,为每个家里名字而自豪,
正式而显著的强有力的呼叫,
圣诞快乐哦~祝所有人!

Dec 25 2018

1min

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泰戈尔《吉檀迦利》选段 Gitanjali - Tagore

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Gitanjali
Rabindranath Tagore
吉檀迦利
泰戈尔
(冰心 译)

1.
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure.
This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again,
and fillest it ever with fresh life.

This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
At the immortal touch of thy hands
my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.

Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine.
Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.

1.
你已经使我永生,这样做是你的欢乐。这脆薄的杯儿,你不断地把它倒空,又不断地以新生命来充满。
这小小的苇笛,你携带着它逾山越谷,从笛管里吹出永新的音乐。
在你双手的不朽的按抚下,我的小小的心,消融在无边快乐之中,发出不可言说的词调。
你的无穷的赐予只倾入我小小的手里。时代过去了,你还在倾注,而我的手里还有余量待充满。

82.
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.
Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.
We have no time to lose, and having no time, we must scramble for our chances.
We are too poor to be late.
And thus it is that time goes by,
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.
At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate to be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.

82
你手里的光阴是无限的,我的主。你的分秒是无法计算的。
夜去明来,时代像花开花落。你晓得怎样来等待。
你的世纪,一个接着一个,来完成一朵小小的野花。
我们的光阴不能浪费,因为没有时间,我们必须争取机缘。我们太穷苦了,决不可迟到。
因此,在我把时间让给每一个性急的,向我索要时间的人,我的时间就虚度了,最后你的神坛上就没有一点祭品。
一天过去,我赶忙前来,怕你的门已经关闭;但是我发现时间还有充裕。

【作者介绍】

拉宾德拉纳特·泰戈尔(1861-1941),印度诗人、文学家。代表作有《吉檀迦利》、《飞鸟集》、《园丁集》、《新月集》等。 1913年,他以《吉檀迦利》成为第一位获得诺贝尔文学奖的亚洲人没获奖理由是:“由于他那至为敏锐、清新与优美的诗;这诗出之于高超的技巧,并由于他自己用英文表达出来,使他那充满诗意的思想业已成为西方文学的一部分”(because of his profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful verse, by which, with consummate skill, he has made his poetic thought, expressed in his own English words, a part of the literature of the West)。

诺贝尔委员会中引用的就是今天分享给大家的第82篇。诗歌的英语版是泰戈尔本人从孟加拉语翻译过来的。

BGM:Dream of Sky - Dancing Line (Cheetah Mobile Game)

Nov 28 2018

2mins

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华兹华斯《割麦女》The Solitary Reaper - Wordsworth

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The Solitary Reaper
William Wordsworth

Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne&`&er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?—
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?

Whate&`&er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o&`&er the sickle bending;—
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

割麦女
华兹华斯

(卞之琳 译)

看她,在田里独自一个,
那个苏格兰高原的少女!
独自在收割,独自在唱歌;
停住吧,或者悄悄走过去!
她独自割麦,又把它捆好,
唱着一只忧郁的曲调;
听啊!整个深邃的谷地
都有这一片歌声在洋溢。
从没有夜莺能够唱出
更美的音调来欢迎结队商,
疲倦了,到一个荫凉的去处
就在阿拉伯沙漠的中央:
杜鹃鸟在春天叫得多动人,
也没有这样子荡人心魂,
尽管它惊破了远海的静悄,
响彻了赫伯里底群岛。
她唱的是什么,可有谁说得清?
哀怨的曲调里也许在流传
古老,不幸,悠久的事情,
还有长远以前的征战;
或者她唱的并不特殊,
只是今日的家常事故?
那些天然的丧忧、哀痛,
有过的,以后还会有的种种?
不管她唱的是什么题目,
她的歌好象会没完没了;
我看见她边唱边干活,
弯着腰,挥动她的镰刀——
我一动也不动,听了许久;
后来,当我上山的时候,
我把歌声还记在心上,
虽然早已听不见声响。

Jul 10 2018

4mins

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艾略特《棋局》A Game of Chess - T.S.Eliot

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《一局棋戏》是艾略特长诗《荒原》的第二部分。

by失踪人口回归的雪梨

The Wasteland II
T. S. Eliot
荒原
艾略特
(查良铮 译)

 II. A Game of Chess

The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne, 
Glowed on the marble, where the glass 
Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines 
From which a golden Cupidon peeped out 
(Another hid his eyes behind his wing) 
Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra 
Reflecting light upon the table as 
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it, 
From satin cases poured in rich profusion; 
In vials of ivory and coloured glass 
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes, 
Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confused 
And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air 
That freshened from the window, these ascended 
In fattening the prolonged candle-flames, 
Flung their smoke into the laquearia, 
Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling. 
Huge sea-wood fed with copper 
Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone, 
In which sad light a carvéd dolphin swam. 
Above the antique mantel was displayed 
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene 
The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king 
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice 
And still she cried, and still the world pursues, 
“Jug Jug” to dirty ears. 
And other withered stumps of time 
Were told upon the walls; staring forms 
Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed. 
Footsteps shuffled on the stair. 
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair 
Spread out in fiery points 
Glowed into words, then would be savagely still. 

  “My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me. 
“Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak. 
  “What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? 
“I never know what you are thinking. Think.”

  I think we are in rats’ alley 
Where the dead men lost their bones. 

  “What is that noise?”
                          The wind under the door. 
“What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?” 
                           Nothing again nothing. 
                                                        “Do 
“You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember 
“Nothing?”

       I remember 
Those are pearls that were his eyes. 
“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”   

                                                                           But 
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag— 
It’s so elegant 
So intelligent 
“What shall I do now? What shall I do?” 
“I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street 
“With my hair down, so. What shall we do tomorrow? 
“What shall we ever do?” 
                                               The hot water at ten. 
And if it rains, a closed car at four. 
And we shall play a game of chess, 
Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door. 

  When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said— 
I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself, 
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME 
Now Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart. 
He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you 
To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there. 
You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set, 
He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you. 
And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert, 
He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time, 
And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said. 
Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said. 
Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look. 
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME 
If you don’t like it you can get on with it, I said.
Others can pick and choose if you can’t. 
But if Albert makes off, it won’t be for lack of telling. 
You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique. 
(And her only thirty-one.) 
I can’t help it, she said, pulling a long face, 
It’s them pills I took, to bring it off, she said. 
(She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George.) 
The chemist said it would be all right, but I’ve never been the same. 
You are a proper fool, I said. 
Well, if Albert won’t leave you alone, there it is, I said, 
What you get married for if you don’t want children? 
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME 
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon, 
And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot— 
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME 
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME 
Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. 
Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight. 
Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.

Feb 10 2018

6mins

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勃朗宁《我的前公爵夫人》:凶手的自白书 My Last Duchess - Browning

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My Last Duchess
Robert Browning

That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall, 
Looking as if she were alive. I call 
That piece a wonder, now; Fra Pandolf’s hands 
Worked busily a day, and there she stands. 
Will’t please you sit and look at her? I said 
“Fra Pandolf” by design, for never read 
Strangers like you that pictured countenance, 
The depth and passion of its earnest glance, 
But to myself they turned (since none puts by 
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I) 
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst, 
How such a glance came there; so, not the first 
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, ’twas not 
Her husband’s presence only, called that spot 
Of joy into the Duchess’ cheek; perhaps 
Fra Pandolf chanced to say, “Her mantle laps 
Over my lady’s wrist too much,” or “Paint 
Must never hope to reproduce the faint 
Half-flush that dies along her throat.” Such stuff 
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough 
For calling up that spot of joy. She had 
A heart—how shall I say?— too soon made glad, 
Too easily impressed; she liked whate’er 
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. 
Sir, ’twas all one! My favour at her breast, 
The dropping of the daylight in the West, 
The bough of cherries some officious fool 
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule 
She rode with round the terrace—all and each 
Would draw from her alike the approving speech, 
Or blush, at least. She thanked men—good! but thanked 
Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked 
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name 
With anybody’s gift. Who’d stoop to blame 
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill 
In speech—which I have not—to make your will 
Quite clear to such an one, and say, “Just this 
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss, 
Or there exceed the mark”—and if she let 
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set 
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse— 
E’en then would be some stooping; and I choose 
Never to stoop. Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt, 
Whene’er I passed her; but who passed without 
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands; 
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands 
As if alive. Will’t please you rise? We’ll meet 
The company below, then. I repeat, 
The Count your master’s known munificence 
Is ample warrant that no just pretense 
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed; 
Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed 
At starting, is my object. Nay, we’ll go 
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though, 
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity, 
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!

我的前公爵夫人
罗伯特.勃朗宁
(飞白 译)

墙上的这幅面是我的前公爵夫人,
看起来就像她活着一样。如今,
我称它为奇迹:潘道夫师的手
经一日忙碌,从此她就在此站立。
你愿坐下看看她吗?我有意提起
潘道夫,因为外来的生客(例如你)
凡是见了画中描绘的面容、
那真挚的眼神的深邃和热情,
没有一个不转向我(因为除我外
再没有别人把画上的帘幕拉开),
似乎想问我可是又不大敢问;
是从哪儿来的——这样的眼神?
你并非第一个人回头这样问我。
先生,不仅仅是她丈夫的在座
使公爵夫人面带欢容,可能
潘道夫偶然说过:“夫人的披风
盖住她的手腕太多,”或者说:
“隐约的红晕向颈部渐渐隐没
这绝非任何颜料所能复制。”
这种无聊话,却被她当成好意,
也足以唤起她的欢心。她那颗心——
怎么说好呢?——要取悦容易得很,
也太易感动。她看到什么都喜欢,
而她的目光又偏爱到处观看。
先生,她对什么都一样!她胸口上
佩戴的我的赠品,或落日的余光;
过分殷勤的傻子在园中攀折
给她的一枝樱桃,或她骑着
绕行花圃的白骡——所有这一切
都会使她同样地赞羡不绝,
或至少泛起红晕。她感激人.好的!
但她的感激(我说不上怎么搞的)
仿佛把我赐她的九百年的门第
与任何人的赠品并列。谁愿意
屈尊去谴责这种轻浮举止?即使
你有口才(我却没有)能把你的意志
给这样的人儿充分说明:“你这点
或那点令我讨厌。这儿你差得远
而那儿你超越了界限。”即使她肯听
你这样训诫她而毫不争论,
毫不为自己辩解,——我也觉得
这会有失身份,所以我选
绝不屈尊。哦,先生,她总是在微笑,
每逢我走过;但是谁人走过得不到
同样慷慨的微笑?发展至此,
我下了令:于是一切微笑都从此制止。
她站在那儿,像活着一样。请你起身
客人们在楼下等。我再重复一声:
你的主人——伯爵先生闻名的大方
足以充分保证:我对嫁妆
提出任何合理要求都不会遭拒绝;
当然.如我开头声明的,他美貌的小姐
才是我追求的目标。别客气,让咱们
一同下楼吧。但请看这海神尼普顿
在驯服海马,这是件珍贵的收藏,
是克劳斯为我特制的青铜铸像。

[Colette有话说]

这是一首谋杀者的自白。

罗伯特·勃朗宁(Robert Browning,1812-1889),英国诗人、剧作家,主要作品有《戏剧抒情诗》(Dramatic Lyrics),《环与书》(The Ring and the Book),诗剧《巴拉塞尔士》(Paracelsus)。他的夫人伊丽莎白·布朗宁,又称勃朗宁夫人,也是英国维多利亚时代受人尊敬的诗人之一。

《我的前公爵夫人》作于1842年,是勃朗宁早期戏剧独白诗的佳作之一。戏剧独白诗(Dramatic Monologue)的说话者所面对的不是读者,而是剧中人,这样一首诗宛如一篇小说,不明确交代场景,但是读者能够从字里行间体察出特定的情境,读出一个非常鲜活的人像。

这首诗中的独白者是一位意大利文艺复兴时期的公爵。他预备再度结婚,对象是一位伯爵小姐,伯爵先生派来使者谈判婚事。公爵领着使者参观他的艺术收藏,中间有他已故夫人的画像。本诗就是公爵在画像前对伯爵使者谈论他对前妻的不满。读到最后我们才会发现,因为前妻不愿做他循规蹈矩的所有物,公爵大概是把她除掉了。

诗歌用“英雄排偶句”(heroic couplet)写成,十分口语化,这个看似彬彬有礼、实则冷酷无情的公爵性格非常鲜明。

BGM:恰空-巴赫

Sep 08 2017

5mins

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狄金森《如果你秋天来》If you were Coming in the Fall - Dickinson

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If You Were Coming in The Fall
Emily Dickinson
如果你秋天来
艾米莉·狄金森
(丁骏 译)

If you were coming in the Fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile, and half a spurn,
As housewives do, a Fly.
如果你秋天来,
我就把夏天掸走,
浅笑半弃,
如同主妇们对,一只苍蝇。

If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls —
And put them each in separate Drawers,
For fear the numbers fuse —
如果我一年后能见你,
我就把所有的月份绕成球——
一球放一个抽屉,
只因害怕数字会熔焊——

If only centuries, Delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting, till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's Land.
如果只是迟了,几个世纪,
我就在我的手上数,
减啊减,直到我的指头都掉了
落入塔斯马尼亚之土。

If certain, when this life was out—
That yours and mine, should be,
I'd toss it yonder, like a Rind,
And take Eternity—
如果肯定,等这一生完结——
才是,你的和我的,
我就把这一生远远掷了,如一张果皮,
再就着永恒——

But, now, uncertain of the length
Of this, that is between,
It goads me, like the Goblin Bee—
That will not state — its sting.
可眼下,长短不得而知
这,见与不见之间,
刺痛着我,就像那妖蜂——
不会说出——它的蜇刺。

[雪梨有话说]

艾米莉·狄金森(Emily Dickinson,1830-1886)的诗已经不适第一次推啦。她生前高产而孤僻,不愿见客,诗歌也很少发表,人们称她为“阿默斯特的女尼”。她去世数十年后才得到文学界的认真关注,被现代派诗人追认为先驱。

狄金森的诗歌韵脚不齐,常用短句、跳脱常规的大写字母和标点符号,置格律以至语法于不顾。诗人佛罗斯特(Robert Frost)谈到她的诗风时称:
“她一落笔就是‘我来了!’然后一头跳进去,往往无暇照顾格律、韵脚。”
(When she started a poem, it was ‘Here I come!’ and she came plunging through. The meter and rhyme often had to take care of itself.)

《如果你秋天来》里有爱、分离、恐惧,当然还有时间——瞬间,死亡和永恒。狄金森的诗歌语言精简,比喻尖新,比如第一节中主妇掸走苍蝇的意象。第三节中,Van Dieman&`&s land指澳洲的塔斯马尼亚,美国人一度认为那是在地球上离美洲最远的地方。另外,澳大利亚又被称作“Down Under”,所以这里可能也有俏皮的双关。

雪梨查到这首诗有两个版本,另一个版本更加押韵,比如第二节最后一句是“Until their time befalls”。如果有人能查到另一个版本的来源,那就太好了。雪梨不知道那是诗人自己的修改版还是出版社的篡改版。

BGM: Something Can Grow - Tony Anderson

Aug 04 2017

2mins

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