热度 8|
As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music-hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.
Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.
The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush’s breast.
Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went-
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.
But no, I was out for stars:
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked,
And I hadn’t been.
译本一:
进来
当我来到树林的边上,
鸫鸟的音乐——听呀!
此刻如果外面是黄昏,
里面已是黑暗。
对一只鸟这树林实在太黑暗,
它用翅膀的灵巧
来改善过夜的栖息处,
不过它仍然能歌唱。
落日最后一抹余晖
已在西天消失,
但仍残存下来再听一遍
鸫鸟胸中的歌声。
远在那一丛丛黑暗中
鸫鸟的音乐依旧——
几乎像一声请进来
领受这黑暗和悲哀。
才不呢,我出来看星星:
我不会进来。
哪怕是被邀请也不,
何况没被邀请。
(黄灿然/译 转自2000年9月号《读书》杂志)
译本二:
步入
当我来到树林边,
画眉的音乐――听!
如果现在林外是黄昏,
那林中就是黑暗。
树林对于鸟儿过于黑暗,
它拍打灵巧的翅膀,
修筑它过夜的处所,
这时它依旧在歌唱。
最后的那一缕阳光
已消失在西方,
但依旧有一首首的歌
响在画眉的胸腔。
从远处如柱的黑暗里
传来画眉的音乐――
几乎就是在召唤人们
步入黑暗和悲哀。
但是不,我是来看星的:
我并不想步入。
即使受人邀请,我也不去,
也无人邀请过我。
(唐烈英/译,转自《文明的孩子》,中央编译出版社1999年1月第一版)