雪莱的政治诗(Poems of Shelley).docx

Ode to the West Wind1、O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumns beingThou, from whose unseen presence the leaves deadAre driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,Pestilence-stricken multitudes:O thouWho chariltest to their dark wintry bedThe winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,Each like a corpse within its grave, untilThine azure sister of the Spring shall blowHer clarion oer the dreaming earth, and fill(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)With living hues and odors plain and hill:Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh, hear!2 、Thou on whose stream, mid the steep skys commotion,Loose clouds like earths decaying leaves are shedd,Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,angels of rain and lightning:there are spreadOn the blue surface of thine airy surge,Like the bright hair uplifted from the headOf some fierce Maenad, even from the dim vergeOf the horizon to the Zeniths height,The locks of the approaching storm.Thou dirgeOf the dying year, to which this closing nightWill be the dome of a vast sepulchre,Vaulted with all thy congregated mightOf vapours, from whose solid atmosphereBlack rain, and fire , and hail will burst :oh, hear!3 、Thou who didst waken from his summer dreamsThe blue Mediterranean, where he lay,Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streamsBeside a pumice isle in Baiaes bay,And saw in sleep old palaces and fowersQuivering within the eaves intenser day,All overgrown with azure moss and flowersSo sweet, the sense faints picturing them!ThouFor whose path the Atlantics level powersCleave themselves into chasms, while far belowThe sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wearThe sapless foliage of the ocean, knowThy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,And tremble and despoil themselves:oh, hear!4 、If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee:A wave to pant beneath thy power , and shareThe impulse of thy strength, only less freeThan thou, O uncontrollable! If evenI were as im my boyhood, and could beThe comrade of thy wanderigs over Heaven,As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speedScarce seemd a vision; I would neer have strivenAs thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.Oh, lift me as a wave , a leaf, a cloud!I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowedOne too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.5 、Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:What if my leavers are falling like its own!The tumult of thy mighty harmoniesWill take from both a deep, autumnal tone,Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!Drive my dead thoughts over the universeLike withered leaves to quicken a new birth!And , by the incantation of this verse,Scatter, is from an unextinguished hearthAshes and sparks, my words among mankind!Be through my lips to unawakened earthThe trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,If Winter comes , can Spring be far behind?1西风颂哦，狂暴的西风，秋之生命的呼吸！你无形，但枯死的落叶被你横扫，有如鬼魅碰到了巫师，纷纷逃避：黄的，黑的，灰的，红得像患肺痨，呵，重染疫疠的一群：西风呵，是你以车驾把有翼的种子催送到黑暗的冬床上，它们就躺在那里，像是墓中的死穴，冰冷，深藏，低贱，直等到春天，你碧空的姊妹吹起她的喇叭，在沉睡的大地上响遍，（唤出嫩芽，象羊群一样，觅食空中）将色和香充满了山峰和平原。 不羁的精灵呵，你无处不远行；破坏者兼保护者：听吧，你且聆听！没入你的急流，当高空一片混乱，流云象大地的枯叶一样被撕扯脱离天空和海洋的纠缠的枝干。 成为雨和电的使者：它们飘落在你的磅礴之气的蔚蓝的波面，有如狂女的飘扬的头发在闪烁，从天穹的最遥远而模糊的边沿直抵九霄的中天，到处都在摇曳欲来雷雨的卷发，对濒死的一年 你唱出了葬歌，而这密集的黑夜将成为它广大墓陵的一座圆顶，里面正有你的万钧之力的凝结； 那是你的浑然之气，从它会迸涌黑色的雨，冰雹和火焰：哦，你听！是你，你将蓝色的地中海唤醒，而它曾经昏睡了一整个夏天，被澄澈水流的回旋催眠入梦， 就在巴亚海湾的一个浮石岛边，它梦见了古老的宫殿和楼阁在水天辉映的波影里抖颤， 而且都生满青苔、开满花朵，那芬芳真迷人欲醉！呵，为了给你让一条路，大西洋的汹涌的浪波 把自己向两边劈开，而深在渊底那海洋中的花草和泥污的森林虽然枝叶扶疏，却没有精力； 听到你的声音，它们已吓得发青：一边颤栗，一边自动萎缩：哦，你听！哎，假如我是一片枯叶被你浮起，假如我是能和你飞跑的云雾，是一个波浪，和你的威力同喘息， 假如我分有你的脉搏，仅仅不如你那么自由，哦，无法约束的生命！假如我能像在少年时，凌风而舞 便成了你的伴侣，悠游天空（因为呵，那时候，要想追你上云霄，似乎并非梦幻），我就不致像如今 这样焦躁地要和你争相祈祷。哦，举起我吧，当我是水波、树叶、浮云！我跌在生活底荆棘上，我流血了！ 这被岁月的重轭所制服的生命原是和你一样：骄傲、轻捷而不驯。把我当作你的竖琴吧，有如树林：尽管我的叶落了，那有什么关系！你巨大的合奏所振起的音乐 将染有树林和我的深邃的秋意：虽忧伤而甜蜜。呵，但愿你给予我狂暴的精神！奋勇者呵，让我们合一！ 请把我枯死的思想向世界吹落，让它像枯叶一样促成新的生命！哦，请听从这一篇符咒似的诗歌， 就把我的话语，像是灰烬和火星从还未熄灭的炉火向人间播散！让预言的喇叭通过我的嘴唇 把昏睡的大地唤醒吧！要是冬天已经来了，西风呵，春日怎能遥远？1819年查良铮 译致英格兰人的歌 SONG TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND 英 雪莱英格兰人哪，为什么耕耘Men of England, wherefore plough为那些压迫你们的主人？For the lords who lay ye low? 为什么辛勤、小心地编织Wherefore weave with toil and care 暴君们穿着的华丽服饰？Therich robes your tyrants wear?为什么供衣食，又供徭差，Wherefore feed, and clothe, and save,从摇篮一直伺候到坟台？From the cradle tothe grave, 雄蜂们从来就忘恩负义，Those ungrateful drones who would 榨尽你们汗水，喝干血滴！Drain your sweat-nay, drink your blood?英格兰的工蜂何以打造Wherefore Bees of England, forge大量的武器、刑具和镣铐？Many a weapon, chain, and scourge,让失刺的雄蜂据以掠夺That these stingless drones may spoil 你们被强迫劳动的成果？The forced produce of your toil?你们可有闲暇、慰藉、安宁？Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,有住所、食物、爱情的温馨？Shelter, food, loves gentle balm?或是以如此高昂的价格Or what is it yebuy so dear痛苦与恐惧-换取了什么？With your pain and with your fear?你们播的种子，他人坐收；The seed ye sow, another reaps；你们找到财富，他人拥有；The wealth ye find, another keeps；你们编织衣饰，他人穿戴；Therobes ye weave, another wears；你们打造武器，他人佩带。The arms ye forge, another bears.播种吧，但别让暴君收取；Sow seed, -but let no tyrant reap；找到财富，别让骗子囤聚；Find wealth, -let no impostor heap；编织吧，别为懒人作嫁衣；Weave robes, -let not the idle wear；打造武器，用以保卫自己。Forge arms, -in your defence to bear.蜷缩于地窖、窑洞与陋屋，Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells；你们修的厅堂，他人居住。In halls ye deck another dwells.为啥要甩抖自制的锁链？Why shake the chains ye wrought?Ye see你们炼的钢，瞧呀，多耀眼！The steel ye tempered glance on ye.用你们的铁铲、锄把、铧犁，With plough and spade, and hoe and loom,自己竖墓碑，自己圈坟地，Trace your grave, and build your tomb,并且用织机自己织尸布，And weave your winding-sheet, till fair堂堂英格兰你们的茔墓！ England be your sepulchre.Rise Like Lions (The mask of Anarchy) 像雄狮傲然挺立 by Shelley 雪莱 Rise like lions after slumber In unvanquishable number Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you You are many, they are few 像雄狮醒来傲然挺立， 挟着不可征服的威力 昏睡中被套上的枷锁， 像抖落露珠一般抖落 你们千千万，他们一小撮。 译于2007年3月5日。Sonnet: England in 1819年的英国 ENGLAND IN 1819An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king,-Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flowThrough public scorn, mud from a muddy spring,-Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know,But leech-like to