如题所述
勃朗宁夫人（Elizabeth Barret Browning)诗选(字数超出最大允许值， 会删减！）
勃朗宁夫人（1806-1861）主要作品有《葡萄牙人十四行诗集》和长诗《奥罗拉·莉》。
葡萄牙人十四行诗集
I
thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision thro my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was ’ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,—
“Guess now who holds thee!”—“Death,” I said, But, there,
The silver answer rang, “Not Death, but Love.”
我想起，当年希腊的诗人曾经歌咏：
年复一年，那良辰在殷切的盼望中
翩然降临，各自带一份礼物
分送给世人－－年老或是年少。
当我这么想，感叹着诗人的古调，
穿过我泪眼所逐渐展开的幻觉，
我看见，那欢乐的岁月、哀伤的岁月－－
我自己的年华，把一片片黑影接连着
掠过我的身。紧接着，我就觉察
（我哭了）我背后正有个神秘的黑影
在移动，而且一把揪住了我的发， ;
往后拉，还有一声吆喝（我只是在挣扎）：
“这回是谁逮住了你？猜！”“死，”我答话。
听哪，那银铃似的回音：“不是死，是爱！”
II
But only
three in all God’s universe
Have heard this word thou hast said,—Himself, beside
Thee speaking, and me listening! and replied
One of us . . . that was God, . . . and laid the curse
So darkly on my eyelids, as to amerce
My sight from seeing thee,—that if I had died,
The death-weights, placed there, would have signified
Less absolute exclusion. “Nay” is worse
From God than from all others, O my friend!
Men could not part us with their worldly jars,
Nor the seas change us, nor the tempests bend;
Our hands would touch for all the mountain-bars:
And, heaven being rolled between us at the end,
We should but vow the faster for the stars.
可是在上帝的全宇宙里，总共才只
三个人听见了你那句话：除了
讲话的你、听话的我，就是他－－
上帝自己！我们中间还有一个
出来答话；那昏黑的诅咒落上
我的眼皮，挡了你，不让我看见，
就算我瞑了目，放上沉沉的“压眼钱”，
也不至于那么彻底隔绝。唉，
比谁都厉害，上帝的那一声“不行！”
要不然，世俗的诽谤离间不了我们，
任风波飞扬，也不能动摇那坚贞；
我们的手要伸过山岭，互相接触；
有那么一天，天空滚到我俩中间，
我俩向星辰起誓，还要更加握紧。
III
Unlike
are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
Unlike our uses and our destinies.
Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art
A guest for queens to social pageantries,
With gages from a hundred brighter eyes
Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part
Of chief musician. What hast thou to do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me,
A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?
The chrism is on thine head,—on
mine, the dew,—
And Death must dig the level where these agree.
我们原不一样，尊贵的人儿呀，
原不一样是我们的职司和前程。
你我头上的天使，迎面飞来，
翅膀碰上了翅膀，彼此瞪着
惊愕的眼睛。你想，你是华宫里
后妃的上宾，千百双殷勤的明眸
（哪怕挂满了泪珠，也不能教我的眼
有这份光彩）请求你担任领唱。
那你干什么从那灯光辉映的纱窗里
望向我？－－我，一个凄凉、流浪的
歌手，疲乏地靠着柏树，吟叹在
茫茫的黑暗里。圣油搽在你头上－－
可怜我，头上承受着凉透的夜露。
只有死，才能把这样的一对扯个平。
IV
Thou
hast thy calling to some palace-floor,
Most gracious singer of high poems! where
The dancers will break footing, from the care
Of watching up thy pregnant lips for more.
And dost thou lift this house’s
latch too poor
For hand of thine? and canst thou think and bear
To let thy music drop here unaware
In folds of golden fulness at my door?
Look up and see the casement broken in,
The bats and owlets builders in the roof!
My cricket chirps against thy mandolin.
Hush, call no echo up in further proof
Of desolation! there’s a voice within
That weeps . . . as thou must sing . . . alone, aloof.
你曾经受到邀请，进入了宫廷，
温雅的歌手！你唱着崇高的诗篇；
贵客们停下舞步，为了好瞻仰你，
期待那丰满的朱唇再吐出清音；
而你却抽起我的门闩，你果真
不嫌它亵渎了你的手？没谁看见，
你甘让你那音乐飘落在我门前，
叠作层层金声的富丽？你忍不忍？
你往上瞧，看这窗户都被闯破－－
是蝙蝠和夜莺的窠巢盘踞在顶梁，
是 编 的蟋蟀在跟你的琵琶应和！
住声，别再激起回声来加深荒凉！
那里边有一个哀音，它必须深躲，
在暗里哭泣－－正象你应该当众歌唱。
V
I lift
my heavy heart up solemnly,
As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
And, looking in thine eyes, I over-turn
The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn
Through the ashen greyness. If thy foot in scorn
Could tread them out to darkness utterly,
It might be well perhaps. But if instead
Thou wait beside me for the wind to blow
The grey dust up, . . . those laurels on thine head,
O my Belovëd, will not shield thee so,
That none of all the fires shall scorch and shred
The hair beneath. Stand further off then! go!
我肃穆地端起了我沉重的心，
象当年希腊女儿捧着那坛尸灰；
眼望着你，我把灰撒在你脚下。
请看呀，有多大一堆悲哀埋藏在
我这心坎里；而在那灰暗的深处，
那惨红的灰烬又怎样在隐约燃烧。
要是那点点火星给你鄙夷地
一脚踏灭、还它们一片黑暗，
这样也好。可是，你偏不，
你要守在我身旁，等风来把尘土
扬起，把死灰吹活；爱呀，那戴在
你头上的桂冠可不能给你做屏障，
保护你不让这一片火焰烧坏了
那底下的发丝。快站远些呀，快走！
VI
Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore—
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes the tears of two.
舍下我，走吧。可是我觉得，从此
我就一直徘徊在你的身影里。
在那孤独的生命的边缘，从今再不能
掌握自己的心灵，或是坦然地
把这手伸向日光，象从前那样，
而能约束自己不感到你的指尖
碰上我的掌心。劫运教天悬地殊
隔离了我们，却留下了你那颗心，
在我的心房里搏动着双重声响。
正象是酒，总尝得出原来的葡萄，
我的起居和梦寐里，都有你的份。
当我向上帝祈祷，为着我自个儿
他却听到了一个名字、那是你的；
又在我眼里，看见有两个人的眼泪。
VII
The face
of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole
God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,
And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.
The names of country, heaven, are changed away
For where thou art or shalt be, there or here;
And this . . . this lute and song . . . loved yesterday,
(The singing angels know) are only dear
Because thy name moves right in what they say.
全世界的面目，我想，忽然改变了，
自从我第一次在心灵上听到你的步子
轻轻、轻轻，来到我身旁－－穿过我和
死亡的边缘：那幽微的间隙。站在
那里的我，只道这一回该倒下了，
却不料被爱救起，还教给一曲
生命的新歌。上帝赐我洗礼的
那一杯苦酒，我甘愿饮下，赞美它
甜蜜－－甜蜜的，如果有你在我身旁。
天国和人间，将因为你的存在
而更改模样；而这曲歌，这支笛，
昨日里给爱着，还让人感到亲切，
那歌唱的天使知道，就因为
一声声都有你的名字在荡漾。
VIII
What can
I give thee back, O liberal
And princely giver, who hast brought the gold
And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,
And laid them on the outside of the wall
For such as I to take or leave withal,
In unexpected largesse? am I cold,
Ungrateful, that for these most manifold
High gifts, I render nothing back at all?
Not so; not cold,—but very poor instead.
Ask God who knows. For frequent tears have run
The colours from my life, and left so dead
And pale a stuff, it were not fitly done
To give the same as pillow to thy head.
Go farther! let it serve to trample on.
你那样慷慨豪爽的施主呀，你把
你心坎里金 袒 煌的宝藏、
原封地掏出来，只往我墙外推，
任凭象我这样的人去拣起，还是
把这罕见的舍施丢下；教我拿什么
来作为你应得的报答？请不要
说我太冷漠、太寡恩，你那许多
重重叠叠的深情厚意，我却
没有一些儿回敬；不，并不是
冷漠无情，实在我太寒伧。你问
上帝就明白。那连绵的泪雨冲尽了
我生命的光彩，只剩一片死沉沉的
苍白，不配给你当偎依的枕头。
走吧！尽把它踏在脚下，作垫石。
IX
Can it
be right to give what I can give?
To let thee sit beneath the fall of tears
As salt as mine, and hear the sighing years
Re-sighing on my lips renunciative
Through those infrequent smiles which fail to live
For all thy adjurations? O my fears,
That this can scarce be right! We are not peers
So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,
That givers of such gifts as mine are, must
Be counted with the ungenerous. Out, alas!
I will not soil thy purple with my dust,
Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice-glass,
Nor give thee any love—which were unjust.
Beloved, I only love thee! let it pass.
我能不能有什么、就拿什么给你？
该不该让你紧挨著我，承受
我簌簌的苦泪；听著那伤逝的青春，
在我的唇边重复著叹息，偶而
浮起一丝微笑，哪怕你连劝带哄，
也随即在叹息里寂灭？啊，我但怕
这并不应该！我俩是不相称的
一对，哪能匹配作情侣？我承认，
我也伤心，象我这样的施主
只算得鄙吝。唉，可是我怎能够让
我满身的尘土玷污了你的紫袍，
叫我的毒气喷向你那威尼斯晶杯！
我什么爱也不给，因为什么都不该给。
爱呀，让我只爱著你，就算数了吧！
X
Yet,
love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright,
Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light
Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:
And love is fire. And when I say at need
I love thee . . . mark! . . . I love thee—in thy sight
I stand transfigured, glorified aright,
With conscience of the new rays that proceed
Out of my face toward thine. There’s nothing low
In love, when love the lowest: meanest creatures
Who love God, God accepts while loving so.
And what I feel, across the inferior features
Of what I am, doth flash itself, and show
How that great work of Love enhances Nature’s.
不过只要是爱，是爱，可就是美，
就值得你接受。你知道，爱就是火，
火总是光明的，不问着火的是庙堂
或者柴堆－－那栋梁还是荆榛在烧，
火焰里总跳得出同样的光辉。当我
不由得倾吐出：“我爱你！”在你的眼里，
那荣耀的瞬息，我忽然成了一尊金身，
感觉到有一道新吐的皓光从我天庭
投向你脸上。是爱，就无所谓卑下，
即使是最微贱的在爱：那微贱的生命
献爱给上帝，宽宏的上帝受了它、
又回赐给它爱。我那迸发的热情
就象道光，通过我这陋质，昭示了
爱的大手笔怎样给造物润色。
XI
And
therefore if to love can be desert,
I am not all unworthy. Cheeks as pale
As these you see, and trembling knees that fail
To bear the burden of a heavy heart,—
This weary minstrel-life that once was girt
To climb Aornus, and can scarce avail
To pipe now ’gainst the valley nightingale
A melancholy music,—why advert
To these things? O Belovëd, it is plain
I am not of thy worth nor for thy place!
And yet, because I love thee, I obtain
From that same love this vindicating grace
To live on still in love, and yet in vain,—
To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face.
这么说，把爱情作为我的名份，
我还不是完全不配承受。虽然，
你看，两颊那么苍白，那摇晃的
双膝仿佛负担不了沉重的心房；
这疲乏的行吟生涯也曾想望过
把奥纳斯山 迮 登，却只落得一片
辛酸的哀吟，怎好去跟谷莺竞奏？－－
干吗提这些来着？啊，亲爱的，
不用讲，我高攀不上，不配在你身边
占一个位置。可是，就因为我爱你，
这片爱情提拔我，让我抬起了头、
承受着光明，许我继续活下去，
哪怕是怎样枉然，也要爱你到底；
也要祝福你－－即使拒绝你在当面。
XII
Indeed
this very love which is my boast,
And which, when rising up from breast to brow,
Doth crown me with a ruby large enow
To draw men’s eyes and prove the inner cost,—
This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost,
I should not love withal, unless that thou
Hadst set me an example, shown me how,
When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed,
And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,—
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!)
Is by thee only, whom I love alone.
说真的，就是这为我所夸耀的爱吧，
当它从胸房涌上眉梢，给我加上
一顶皇冠－－那一颗巨大的红宝石，
光彩夺目，让人知道它价值连城……
就算我这全部的、最高成就的爱吧，
我也不懂得怎样去爱，要不是你
先立下示范，教给我该怎么办－－
当你恳切的目光第一次对上了
我的目光，而爱呼应了爱。很明白，
即使爱，我也不能夸说是我的美德。
是你，把我从一片昏迷的软乏中
抱起，高置上黄金的宝座，靠近在
你的身旁。而我懂得了爱，只因为
紧挨着你－－我唯一爱慕的人。追问
勃朗宁夫人（1806-1861）主要作品有《葡萄牙人十四行诗集》和长诗《奥罗拉·莉》。
葡萄牙人十四行诗集
I
thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision thro my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was ’ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,—
“Guess now who holds thee!”—“Death,” I said, But, there,
The silver answer rang, “Not Death, but Love.”
我想起，当年希腊的诗人曾经歌咏：
年复一年，那良辰在殷切的盼望中
翩然降临，各自带一份礼物
分送给世人－－年老或是年少。
当我这么想，感叹着诗人的古调，
穿过我泪眼所逐渐展开的幻觉，
我看见，那欢乐的岁月、哀伤的岁月－－
我自己的年华，把一片片黑影接连着
掠过我的身。紧接着，我就觉察
（我哭了）我背后正有个神秘的黑影
在移动，而且一把揪住了我的发， ;
往后拉，还有一声吆喝（我只是在挣扎）：
“这回是谁逮住了你？猜！”“死，”我答话。
听哪，那银铃似的回音：“不是死，是爱！”
II
But only
three in all God’s universe
Have heard this word thou hast said,—Himself, beside
Thee speaking, and me listening! and replied
One of us . . . that was God, . . . and laid the curse
So darkly on my eyelids, as to amerce
My sight from seeing thee,—that if I had died,
The death-weights, placed there, would have signified
Less absolute exclusion. “Nay” is worse
From God than from all others, O my friend!
Men could not part us with their worldly jars,
Nor the seas change us, nor the tempests bend;
Our hands would touch for all the mountain-bars:
And, heaven being rolled between us at the end,
We should but vow the faster for the stars.
可是在上帝的全宇宙里，总共才只
三个人听见了你那句话：除了
讲话的你、听话的我，就是他－－
上帝自己！我们中间还有一个
出来答话；那昏黑的诅咒落上
我的眼皮，挡了你，不让我看见，
就算我瞑了目，放上沉沉的“压眼钱”，
也不至于那么彻底隔绝。唉，
比谁都厉害，上帝的那一声“不行！”
要不然，世俗的诽谤离间不了我们，
任风波飞扬，也不能动摇那坚贞；
我们的手要伸过山岭，互相接触；
有那么一天，天空滚到我俩中间，
我俩向星辰起誓，还要更加握紧。
III
Unlike
are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
Unlike our uses and our destinies.
Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art
A guest for queens to social pageantries,
With gages from a hundred brighter eyes
Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part
Of chief musician. What hast thou to do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me,
A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?
The chrism is on thine head,—on
mine, the dew,—
And Death must dig the level where these agree.
我们原不一样，尊贵的人儿呀，
原不一样是我们的职司和前程。
你我头上的天使，迎面飞来，
翅膀碰上了翅膀，彼此瞪着
惊愕的眼睛。你想，你是华宫里
后妃的上宾，千百双殷勤的明眸
（哪怕挂满了泪珠，也不能教我的眼
有这份光彩）请求你担任领唱。
那你干什么从那灯光辉映的纱窗里
望向我？－－我，一个凄凉、流浪的
歌手，疲乏地靠着柏树，吟叹在
茫茫的黑暗里。圣油搽在你头上－－
可怜我，头上承受着凉透的夜露。
只有死，才能把这样的一对扯个平。
IV
Thou
hast thy calling to some palace-floor,
Most gracious singer of high poems! where
The dancers will break footing, from the care
Of watching up thy pregnant lips for more.
And dost thou lift this house’s
latch too poor
For hand of thine? and canst thou think and bear
To let thy music drop here unaware
In folds of golden fulness at my door?
Look up and see the casement broken in,
The bats and owlets builders in the roof!
My cricket chirps against thy mandolin.
Hush, call no echo up in further proof
Of desolation! there’s a voice within
That weeps . . . as thou must sing . . . alone, aloof.
你曾经受到邀请，进入了宫廷，
温雅的歌手！你唱着崇高的诗篇；
贵客们停下舞步，为了好瞻仰你，
期待那丰满的朱唇再吐出清音；
而你却抽起我的门闩，你果真
不嫌它亵渎了你的手？没谁看见，
你甘让你那音乐飘落在我门前，
叠作层层金声的富丽？你忍不忍？
你往上瞧，看这窗户都被闯破－－
是蝙蝠和夜莺的窠巢盘踞在顶梁，
是 编 的蟋蟀在跟你的琵琶应和！
住声，别再激起回声来加深荒凉！
那里边有一个哀音，它必须深躲，
在暗里哭泣－－正象你应该当众歌唱。
V
I lift
my heavy heart up solemnly,
As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
And, looking in thine eyes, I over-turn
The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn
Through the ashen greyness. If thy foot in scorn
Could tread them out to darkness utterly,
It might be well perhaps. But if instead
Thou wait beside me for the wind to blow
The grey dust up, . . . those laurels on thine head,
O my Belovëd, will not shield thee so,
That none of all the fires shall scorch and shred
The hair beneath. Stand further off then! go!
我肃穆地端起了我沉重的心，
象当年希腊女儿捧着那坛尸灰；
眼望着你，我把灰撒在你脚下。
请看呀，有多大一堆悲哀埋藏在
我这心坎里；而在那灰暗的深处，
那惨红的灰烬又怎样在隐约燃烧。
要是那点点火星给你鄙夷地
一脚踏灭、还它们一片黑暗，
这样也好。可是，你偏不，
你要守在我身旁，等风来把尘土
扬起，把死灰吹活；爱呀，那戴在
你头上的桂冠可不能给你做屏障，
保护你不让这一片火焰烧坏了
那底下的发丝。快站远些呀，快走！
VI
Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore—
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes the tears of two.
舍下我，走吧。可是我觉得，从此
我就一直徘徊在你的身影里。
在那孤独的生命的边缘，从今再不能
掌握自己的心灵，或是坦然地
把这手伸向日光，象从前那样，
而能约束自己不感到你的指尖
碰上我的掌心。劫运教天悬地殊
隔离了我们，却留下了你那颗心，
在我的心房里搏动着双重声响。
正象是酒，总尝得出原来的葡萄，
我的起居和梦寐里，都有你的份。
当我向上帝祈祷，为着我自个儿
他却听到了一个名字、那是你的；
又在我眼里，看见有两个人的眼泪。
VII
The face
of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole
God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,
And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.
The names of country, heaven, are changed away
For where thou art or shalt be, there or here;
And this . . . this lute and song . . . loved yesterday,
(The singing angels know) are only dear
Because thy name moves right in what they say.
全世界的面目，我想，忽然改变了，
自从我第一次在心灵上听到你的步子
轻轻、轻轻，来到我身旁－－穿过我和
死亡的边缘：那幽微的间隙。站在
那里的我，只道这一回该倒下了，
却不料被爱救起，还教给一曲
生命的新歌。上帝赐我洗礼的
那一杯苦酒，我甘愿饮下，赞美它
甜蜜－－甜蜜的，如果有你在我身旁。
天国和人间，将因为你的存在
而更改模样；而这曲歌，这支笛，
昨日里给爱着，还让人感到亲切，
那歌唱的天使知道，就因为
一声声都有你的名字在荡漾。
VIII
What can
I give thee back, O liberal
And princely giver, who hast brought the gold
And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,
And laid them on the outside of the wall
For such as I to take or leave withal,
In unexpected largesse? am I cold,
Ungrateful, that for these most manifold
High gifts, I render nothing back at all?
Not so; not cold,—but very poor instead.
Ask God who knows. For frequent tears have run
The colours from my life, and left so dead
And pale a stuff, it were not fitly done
To give the same as pillow to thy head.
Go farther! let it serve to trample on.
你那样慷慨豪爽的施主呀，你把
你心坎里金 袒 煌的宝藏、
原封地掏出来，只往我墙外推，
任凭象我这样的人去拣起，还是
把这罕见的舍施丢下；教我拿什么
来作为你应得的报答？请不要
说我太冷漠、太寡恩，你那许多
重重叠叠的深情厚意，我却
没有一些儿回敬；不，并不是
冷漠无情，实在我太寒伧。你问
上帝就明白。那连绵的泪雨冲尽了
我生命的光彩，只剩一片死沉沉的
苍白，不配给你当偎依的枕头。
走吧！尽把它踏在脚下，作垫石。
IX
Can it
be right to give what I can give?
To let thee sit beneath the fall of tears
As salt as mine, and hear the sighing years
Re-sighing on my lips renunciative
Through those infrequent smiles which fail to live
For all thy adjurations? O my fears,
That this can scarce be right! We are not peers
So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,
That givers of such gifts as mine are, must
Be counted with the ungenerous. Out, alas!
I will not soil thy purple with my dust,
Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice-glass,
Nor give thee any love—which were unjust.
Beloved, I only love thee! let it pass.
我能不能有什么、就拿什么给你？
该不该让你紧挨著我，承受
我簌簌的苦泪；听著那伤逝的青春，
在我的唇边重复著叹息，偶而
浮起一丝微笑，哪怕你连劝带哄，
也随即在叹息里寂灭？啊，我但怕
这并不应该！我俩是不相称的
一对，哪能匹配作情侣？我承认，
我也伤心，象我这样的施主
只算得鄙吝。唉，可是我怎能够让
我满身的尘土玷污了你的紫袍，
叫我的毒气喷向你那威尼斯晶杯！
我什么爱也不给，因为什么都不该给。
爱呀，让我只爱著你，就算数了吧！
X
Yet,
love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright,
Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light
Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:
And love is fire. And when I say at need
I love thee . . . mark! . . . I love thee—in thy sight
I stand transfigured, glorified aright,
With conscience of the new rays that proceed
Out of my face toward thine. There’s nothing low
In love, when love the lowest: meanest creatures
Who love God, God accepts while loving so.
And what I feel, across the inferior features
Of what I am, doth flash itself, and show
How that great work of Love enhances Nature’s.
不过只要是爱，是爱，可就是美，
就值得你接受。你知道，爱就是火，
火总是光明的，不问着火的是庙堂
或者柴堆－－那栋梁还是荆榛在烧，
火焰里总跳得出同样的光辉。当我
不由得倾吐出：“我爱你！”在你的眼里，
那荣耀的瞬息，我忽然成了一尊金身，
感觉到有一道新吐的皓光从我天庭
投向你脸上。是爱，就无所谓卑下，
即使是最微贱的在爱：那微贱的生命
献爱给上帝，宽宏的上帝受了它、
又回赐给它爱。我那迸发的热情
就象道光，通过我这陋质，昭示了
爱的大手笔怎样给造物润色。
XI
And
therefore if to love can be desert,
I am not all unworthy. Cheeks as pale
As these you see, and trembling knees that fail
To bear the burden of a heavy heart,—
This weary minstrel-life that once was girt
To climb Aornus, and can scarce avail
To pipe now ’gainst the valley nightingale
A melancholy music,—why advert
To these things? O Belovëd, it is plain
I am not of thy worth nor for thy place!
And yet, because I love thee, I obtain
From that same love this vindicating grace
To live on still in love, and yet in vain,—
To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face.
这么说，把爱情作为我的名份，
我还不是完全不配承受。虽然，
你看，两颊那么苍白，那摇晃的
双膝仿佛负担不了沉重的心房；
这疲乏的行吟生涯也曾想望过
把奥纳斯山 迮 登，却只落得一片
辛酸的哀吟，怎好去跟谷莺竞奏？－－
干吗提这些来着？啊，亲爱的，
不用讲，我高攀不上，不配在你身边
占一个位置。可是，就因为我爱你，
这片爱情提拔我，让我抬起了头、
承受着光明，许我继续活下去，
哪怕是怎样枉然，也要爱你到底；
也要祝福你－－即使拒绝你在当面。
XII
Indeed
this very love which is my boast,
And which, when rising up from breast to brow,
Doth crown me with a ruby large enow
To draw men’s eyes and prove the inner cost,—
This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost,
I should not love withal, unless that thou
Hadst set me an example, shown me how,
When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed,
And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,—
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!)
Is by thee only, whom I love alone.
说真的，就是这为我所夸耀的爱吧，
当它从胸房涌上眉梢，给我加上
一顶皇冠－－那一颗巨大的红宝石，
光彩夺目，让人知道它价值连城……
就算我这全部的、最高成就的爱吧，
我也不懂得怎样去爱，要不是你
先立下示范，教给我该怎么办－－
当你恳切的目光第一次对上了
我的目光，而爱呼应了爱。很明白，
即使爱，我也不能夸说是我的美德。
是你，把我从一片昏迷的软乏中
抱起，高置上黄金的宝座，靠近在
你的身旁。而我懂得了爱，只因为
紧挨着你－－我唯一爱慕的人。追问
呃…发云盘之类的吧，手机党不好保存
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