如题所述
Once there was a war between the Roman people and the E-trus'cans wholived in the towns on the other side of the Ti-ber River.
曾经有一场战争发生在罗马人和住在提伯河对岸的城镇里的易拉罐人之间。
Por'se-na,the King of the E-trus-cans, raised a great army, and marched towardRome.
易特斯堪的国王波塞纳（Por'se-na）召集了一支庞大的军队，向罗马进军。
The city had never been in so great danger.
这座城市从未有过如此大的危险。
The Romans did not have very many fighting men at that time, and theyknew that they were not strong enough to meet the Etruscans in openbattle.
当时罗马人没有太多的战斗人员，他们还没有足够的力量在公开战中迎战伊特鲁里亚人。
So they kept themselves inside of their walls, and set guardsto watch the roads.
于是他们把自己关在城墙里，设下守卫看守道路。
One morning the army of Por-se-na was seen coming over the hills fromthe north.
一天早晨，人们看到波塞纳的军队从北方翻过山丘。
There were thousands of horsemen and footmen, and they weremarching straight toward the wooden bridge which spanned the river atRome.
有成千上万的骑兵和步兵，他们径直向横跨阿托洛姆河的木桥前进。
He was on the farther side of the river, and when he sawthat the Etruscans were so near, he called out to the Romans who werebehind him.
他在河的另一边，当他看到伊特鲁里亚人离他很近时，他向在他后面的罗马人喊叫。
此文出自《泰西50轶事》
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第1个回答 2021-07-26
LARS PORSENA of Clusium,
By the Nine Gods he swore
That the great house of Tarquin
Should suffer wrong no more.
By the Nine Gods he swore it, 5
And named a trysting-day,
And bade his messengers ride forth,
East and west and south and north,
To summon his array.
East and west and south and north 10
The messengers ride fast,
And tower and town and cottage
Have heard the trumpet’s blast.
Shame on the false Etruscan
Who lingers in his home, 15
When Porsena of Clusium
Is on the march for Rome!
The horsemen and the footmen
Are pouring in amain
From many a stately market-place, 20
From many a fruitful plain,
From many a lonely hamlet,
Which, hid by beech and pine,
Like an eagle’s nest hangs on the crest
Of purple Apennine: 25
From lordly Volaterræ,
Where scowls the far-famed hold
Piled by the hands of giants
For godlike kings of old;
From sea-girt Populonia, 30
Whose sentinels descry
Sardinia’s snowy mountain-tops
Fringing the southern sky;
From the proud mart of Pisæ,
Queen of the western waves, 35
Where ride Massilia’s triremes,
Heavy with fair-haired slaves;
From where sweet Clanis wanders
Through corn and vines and flowers,
From where Cortona lifts to heaven 40
Her diadem of towers.
Tall are the oaks whose acorns
Drop in dark Auser’s rill;
Fat are the stags that champ the boughs
Of the Ciminian hill; 45
Beyond all streams, Clitumnus
Is to the herdsman dear;
Best of all pools the fowler loves
The great Volsinian mere.
But now no stroke of woodman 50
Is heard by Auser’s rill;
No hunter tracks the stag’s green path
Up the Ciminian hill;
Unwatched along Clitumnus
Grazes the milk-white steer; 55
Unharmed the water-fowl may dip
In the Volsinian mere.
The harvests of Arretium,
This year, old men shall reap;
This year, young boys in Umbro 60
Shall plunge the struggling sheep;
And in the vats of Luna,
This year, the must shall foam
Round the white feet of laughing girls
Whose sires have marched to Rome. 65
There be thirty chosen prophets,
The wisest of the land,
Who always by Lars Porsena
Both morn and evening stand.
Evening and morn the Thirty 70
Have turned the verses o’er,
Traced from the right on linen white
By mighty seers of yore;
And with one voice the Thirty
Have their glad answer given: 75
“Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena,—
Go forth, beloved of Heaven!
Go, and return in glory
To Clusium’s royal dome,
And hang round Nurscia’s altars 80
The golden shields of Rome!”
And now hath every city
Sent up her tale of men;
The foot are fourscore thousand,
The horse are thousands ten. 85
Before the gates of Sutrium
Is met the great array;
A proud man was Lars Porsena
Upon the trysting-day.
For all the Etruscan armies 90
Were ranged beneath his eye,
And many a banished Roman,
And many a stout ally;
And with a mighty following,
To join the muster, came 95
The Tusculan Mamilius,
Prince of the Latian name.
But by the yellow Tiber
Was tumult and affright;
From all the spacious champaign 100
To Rome men took their flight.
A mile around the city
The throng stopped up the ways;
A fearful sight it was to see
Through two long nights and days. 105
For aged folk on crutches,
And women great with child,
And mothers, sobbing over babes
That clung to them and smiled,
And sick men borne in litters 110
High on the necks of slaves,
And troops of sunburned husbandmen
With reaping-hooks and staves,
And droves of mules and asses
Laden with skins of wine, 115
And endless flocks of goats and sheep,
And endless herds of kine,
And endless trains of wagons,
That creaked beneath the weight
Of corn-sacks and of household goods, 120
Choked every roaring gate.
Now, from the rock Tarpeian,
Could the wan burghers spy
The line of blazing villages
Red in the midnight sky. 125
The Fathers of the City,
They sat all night and day,
For every hour some horseman came
With tidings of dismay.
To eastward and to westward 130
Have spread the Tuscan bands,
Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote
In Crustumerium stands.
Verbenna down to Ostia
Hath wasted all the plain; 135
Astur hath stormed Janiculum,
And the stout guards are slain.
I wis, in all the Senate
There was no heart so bold
But sore it ached, and fast it beat, 140
When that ill news was told.
Forthwith up rose the Consul,
Up rose the Fathers all;
In haste they girded up their gowns,
And hied them to the wall. 145
They held a council, standing
Before the River-gate;
Short time was there, ye well may guess,
For musing or debate.
Out spake the Consul roundly: 150
“The bridge must straight go down;
For, since Janiculum is lost,
Naught else can save the town.”
Just then a scout came flying,
All wild with haste and fear: 155
“To arms! to arms! Sir Consul,—
Lars Porsena is here.”
On the low hills to westward
The Consul fixed his eye,
And saw the swarthy storm of dust 160
Rise fast along the sky.
And nearer fast and nearer
Doth the red whirlwind come;
And louder still, and still more loud,
From underneath that rolling cloud, 165
Is heard the trumpets’ war-note proud,
The trampling and the hum.
And plainly and more plainly
Now through the gloom appears,
Far to left and far to right, 170
In broken gleams of dark-blue light,
The long array of helmets bright,
The long array of spears.
And plainly and more plainly,
Above that glimmering line, 175
Now might ye see the banners
Of twelve fair cities shine;
But the banner of proud Clusium
Was highest of them all,—
The terror of the Umbrian, 180
The terror of the Gaul.
And plainly and more plainly
Now might the burghers know,
By port and vest, by horse and crest,
Each warlike Lucumo: 185
There Cilnius of Arretium
On his fleet roan was seen;
And Astur of the fourfold shield,
Girt with the brand none else may wield;
Tolumnius with the belt of gold, 190
And dark Verbenna from the hold
By reedy Thrasymene.
Fast by the royal standard,
O’erlooking all the war,
Lars Porsena of Clusium 195
Sat in his ivory car.
By the right wheel rode Mamilius,
Prince of the Latian name;
And by the left false Sextus,
That wrought the deed of shame. 200
But when the face of Sextus
Was seen among the foes,
A yell that rent the firmament
From all the town arose.
On the house-tops was no woman 205
But spat towards him and hissed,
No child but screamed out curses,
And shook its little fist.
But the Consul’s brow was sad,
And the Consul’s speech was low, 210
And darkly looked he at the wall,
And darkly at the foe;
“Their van will be upon us
Before the bridge goes down;
And if they once may win the bridge, 215
What hope to save the town?”
Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the gate:
“To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late. 220
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his gods,
“And for the tender mother 225
Who dandled him to rest,
And for the wife who nurses
His baby at her breast,
And for the holy maidens
Who feed the eternal flame,— 230
To save them from false Sextus
That wrought the deed of shame?
“Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me, 235
Will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path a thousand
May well be stopped by three:
Now who will stand on either hand,
And keep the bridge with me?” 240
Then out spake Spurius Lartius,—
A Ramnian proud was he:
“Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And keep the bridge with thee.”
And out spake strong Herminius,— 245
Of Titian blood was he:
“I will abide on thy left side,
And keep the bridge with thee.”
“Horatius,” quoth the Consul,
“As thou sayest so let it be,” 250
And straight against that great array
Went forth the dauntless three.
For Romans in Rome’s quarrel
Spared neither land nor gold,
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, 255
In the brave days of old.
By the Nine Gods he swore
That the great house of Tarquin
Should suffer wrong no more.
By the Nine Gods he swore it, 5
And named a trysting-day,
And bade his messengers ride forth,
East and west and south and north,
To summon his array.
East and west and south and north 10
The messengers ride fast,
And tower and town and cottage
Have heard the trumpet’s blast.
Shame on the false Etruscan
Who lingers in his home, 15
When Porsena of Clusium
Is on the march for Rome!
The horsemen and the footmen
Are pouring in amain
From many a stately market-place, 20
From many a fruitful plain,
From many a lonely hamlet,
Which, hid by beech and pine,
Like an eagle’s nest hangs on the crest
Of purple Apennine: 25
From lordly Volaterræ,
Where scowls the far-famed hold
Piled by the hands of giants
For godlike kings of old;
From sea-girt Populonia, 30
Whose sentinels descry
Sardinia’s snowy mountain-tops
Fringing the southern sky;
From the proud mart of Pisæ,
Queen of the western waves, 35
Where ride Massilia’s triremes,
Heavy with fair-haired slaves;
From where sweet Clanis wanders
Through corn and vines and flowers,
From where Cortona lifts to heaven 40
Her diadem of towers.
Tall are the oaks whose acorns
Drop in dark Auser’s rill;
Fat are the stags that champ the boughs
Of the Ciminian hill; 45
Beyond all streams, Clitumnus
Is to the herdsman dear;
Best of all pools the fowler loves
The great Volsinian mere.
But now no stroke of woodman 50
Is heard by Auser’s rill;
No hunter tracks the stag’s green path
Up the Ciminian hill;
Unwatched along Clitumnus
Grazes the milk-white steer; 55
Unharmed the water-fowl may dip
In the Volsinian mere.
The harvests of Arretium,
This year, old men shall reap;
This year, young boys in Umbro 60
Shall plunge the struggling sheep;
And in the vats of Luna,
This year, the must shall foam
Round the white feet of laughing girls
Whose sires have marched to Rome. 65
There be thirty chosen prophets,
The wisest of the land,
Who always by Lars Porsena
Both morn and evening stand.
Evening and morn the Thirty 70
Have turned the verses o’er,
Traced from the right on linen white
By mighty seers of yore;
And with one voice the Thirty
Have their glad answer given: 75
“Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena,—
Go forth, beloved of Heaven!
Go, and return in glory
To Clusium’s royal dome,
And hang round Nurscia’s altars 80
The golden shields of Rome!”
And now hath every city
Sent up her tale of men;
The foot are fourscore thousand,
The horse are thousands ten. 85
Before the gates of Sutrium
Is met the great array;
A proud man was Lars Porsena
Upon the trysting-day.
For all the Etruscan armies 90
Were ranged beneath his eye,
And many a banished Roman,
And many a stout ally;
And with a mighty following,
To join the muster, came 95
The Tusculan Mamilius,
Prince of the Latian name.
But by the yellow Tiber
Was tumult and affright;
From all the spacious champaign 100
To Rome men took their flight.
A mile around the city
The throng stopped up the ways;
A fearful sight it was to see
Through two long nights and days. 105
For aged folk on crutches,
And women great with child,
And mothers, sobbing over babes
That clung to them and smiled,
And sick men borne in litters 110
High on the necks of slaves,
And troops of sunburned husbandmen
With reaping-hooks and staves,
And droves of mules and asses
Laden with skins of wine, 115
And endless flocks of goats and sheep,
And endless herds of kine,
And endless trains of wagons,
That creaked beneath the weight
Of corn-sacks and of household goods, 120
Choked every roaring gate.
Now, from the rock Tarpeian,
Could the wan burghers spy
The line of blazing villages
Red in the midnight sky. 125
The Fathers of the City,
They sat all night and day,
For every hour some horseman came
With tidings of dismay.
To eastward and to westward 130
Have spread the Tuscan bands,
Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote
In Crustumerium stands.
Verbenna down to Ostia
Hath wasted all the plain; 135
Astur hath stormed Janiculum,
And the stout guards are slain.
I wis, in all the Senate
There was no heart so bold
But sore it ached, and fast it beat, 140
When that ill news was told.
Forthwith up rose the Consul,
Up rose the Fathers all;
In haste they girded up their gowns,
And hied them to the wall. 145
They held a council, standing
Before the River-gate;
Short time was there, ye well may guess,
For musing or debate.
Out spake the Consul roundly: 150
“The bridge must straight go down;
For, since Janiculum is lost,
Naught else can save the town.”
Just then a scout came flying,
All wild with haste and fear: 155
“To arms! to arms! Sir Consul,—
Lars Porsena is here.”
On the low hills to westward
The Consul fixed his eye,
And saw the swarthy storm of dust 160
Rise fast along the sky.
And nearer fast and nearer
Doth the red whirlwind come;
And louder still, and still more loud,
From underneath that rolling cloud, 165
Is heard the trumpets’ war-note proud,
The trampling and the hum.
And plainly and more plainly
Now through the gloom appears,
Far to left and far to right, 170
In broken gleams of dark-blue light,
The long array of helmets bright,
The long array of spears.
And plainly and more plainly,
Above that glimmering line, 175
Now might ye see the banners
Of twelve fair cities shine;
But the banner of proud Clusium
Was highest of them all,—
The terror of the Umbrian, 180
The terror of the Gaul.
And plainly and more plainly
Now might the burghers know,
By port and vest, by horse and crest,
Each warlike Lucumo: 185
There Cilnius of Arretium
On his fleet roan was seen;
And Astur of the fourfold shield,
Girt with the brand none else may wield;
Tolumnius with the belt of gold, 190
And dark Verbenna from the hold
By reedy Thrasymene.
Fast by the royal standard,
O’erlooking all the war,
Lars Porsena of Clusium 195
Sat in his ivory car.
By the right wheel rode Mamilius,
Prince of the Latian name;
And by the left false Sextus,
That wrought the deed of shame. 200
But when the face of Sextus
Was seen among the foes,
A yell that rent the firmament
From all the town arose.
On the house-tops was no woman 205
But spat towards him and hissed,
No child but screamed out curses,
And shook its little fist.
But the Consul’s brow was sad,
And the Consul’s speech was low, 210
And darkly looked he at the wall,
And darkly at the foe;
“Their van will be upon us
Before the bridge goes down;
And if they once may win the bridge, 215
What hope to save the town?”
Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the gate:
“To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late. 220
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his gods,
“And for the tender mother 225
Who dandled him to rest,
And for the wife who nurses
His baby at her breast,
And for the holy maidens
Who feed the eternal flame,— 230
To save them from false Sextus
That wrought the deed of shame?
“Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me, 235
Will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path a thousand
May well be stopped by three:
Now who will stand on either hand,
And keep the bridge with me?” 240
Then out spake Spurius Lartius,—
A Ramnian proud was he:
“Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And keep the bridge with thee.”
And out spake strong Herminius,— 245
Of Titian blood was he:
“I will abide on thy left side,
And keep the bridge with thee.”
“Horatius,” quoth the Consul,
“As thou sayest so let it be,” 250
And straight against that great array
Went forth the dauntless three.
For Romans in Rome’s quarrel
Spared neither land nor gold,
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, 255
In the brave days of old.
第2个回答 2014-08-01
先给你英文，可以叫《桥上的贺拉提斯》追答
不行太长了，发不过去，要不，我把链接给你
如果挺满意，采纳吧。。。费了好长时间查的。。。
追问不能配上中文翻译吗？
追答目前找不到呀，不过辛苦找到的，采纳一下吧(∩_∩)(∩_∩)(∩_∩)
追问额，好吧。
追答谢了谢了(∩_∩)(∩_∩)(∩_∩)
本回答被提问者采纳