本尼读《夜莺颂》,淡淡的忧伤
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发布于:2021-02-28 14:23

Ode to a Nightingale

夜莺颂


朗读:本尼迪克特·康伯巴奇(Benedict Cumberbatch )

读人:约翰·济慈(John Keats)

音频优化:@爱读书的Kiwi君


My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains

My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,

Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains

One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:

'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,

But being too happy in thine happiness, --

That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees

In some melodious plot

Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,

Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

我的心疼痛,我感到昏昏欲睡,麻木不仁,好像是饮过毒鸩,

又像是刚刚吞服过鸦片,开始沉向冥府的忘川.

这并非我对你的福气有所妒嫉,而是你的欢乐使我过度欣喜——

你呀,羽翼翩翩的树精, 在山毛榉的绿叶与荫影之中, 在那歌声悠扬的地点,

你舒展了喉咙,歌唱着夏天.


O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been

Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,

Tasting of Flora and the country green,

Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!

O for a beaker full of the warm South,

Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,

With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

And purple-stained mouth;

That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,

And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

啊,但愿有一口美酒,一口曾在地窖冷藏多年的美酒!

人一尝就会想到花神,想到葱绿的酒乡,想起舞蹈、恋歌和丰收季节的欢狂.

啊,要是那杯酒带有南国的热气,

红如人面,充满灵感之泉的真味,珍珠的泡沫在杯沿浮动,能把嘴唇染得绯红,

我就会一饮而尽,悄然离开尘寰,

随你隐没在幽暗的林间.


Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

What thou among the leaves hast never known,

The weariness, the fever, and the fret

Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;

Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,

Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;

Where but to think is to be full of sorrow

And leaden-eyed despairs,

Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,

Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

消失,并且忘记 你在林间从不知晓的东西,

忘记这里的疲倦、热病和烦躁不安. 这里,人们坐在一起长吁短叹;

这里,老年瘫痪了,只剩得几根白发摇晃,

青年也变得苍白,瘦削,以至死亡,

这里,人们一思想就感到伤悲,就会绝望得两眼铅灰,

这里,美人的双眸难以保持明丽,新生的爱情第二天就会凋敝.


Away! away! for I will fly to thee,

Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,

But on the viewless wings of Poesy,

Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:

Already with thee! tender is the night,

And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,

Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;

But here there is no light,

Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown

Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

飞去,飞去,我要向你飞去,不是与酒神同驾豹车而去,

而是乘坐诗神的无形的双翼,

尽管这头脑恁地迟钝、困惑和呆滞.

啊,此刻我终于和你在一起了;

夜,是这般地柔和,也许月后已经登上宝座,

众星正在四周守望,

但是,这里却没有光亮,

除了几丝天光,随风穿过窗枝的隙缝,穿过绿叶的荫影和苔藓的曲径.


I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,

Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,

But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet

Wherewith the seasonable month endows

The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;

White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;

Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;

And mid-May's eldest child,

The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,

The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

我看不清什么花儿在我脚下,也望不见什么花儿在枝头挂,

但是,在温馨的黑夜,我却能猜想这个季节的每一种芬芳,那就该有香草、灌木和野果树的花。

(在芬芳馥郁的黑暗中,我只能猜想,这时令将馈赠什么样的芬芳,赋予这青草、灌木和野生的果树;)

有山楂和野玫瑰的花,

还有早谢的紫罗兰为绿叶遮盖,

还有麝香蔷薇即将盛开——那种蔷薇是五月中旬的骄儿,流露着酒香,

它是夏夜蚊蝇飞鸣的地方.


Darkling I listen; and, for many a time

I have been half in love with easeful Death,

Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,

To take into the air my quiet breath;

Now more than ever seems it rich to die,

To cease upon the midnight with no pain,

While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad

In such an ecstasy!

Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain --

To thy high requiem become a sod.

我在黑暗中倾听你的歌声,我多次想到死亡,他可以给人安宁.

我在诗歌里亲昵地向他呼唤,

求他把我的生命化为青烟.

现在我越发感到死亡的富丽,

想在午夜安然地与世别离,

但此刻你却以如此的狂喜,倾吐着你的胸臆,

你将永远歌唱不息,我死了就不会再听见你——

你将唱给一堆草皮.


Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!

No hungry generations tread thee down;

The voice I hear this passing night was heard

In ancient days by emperor and clown:

Perhaps the self-same song that found a path

Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,

She stood in tears amid the alien corn;

The same that oft-times hath

Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam

Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

永生的灵鸟!你不会死掉,

贪馋的时间不能把你踩倒.

我今晚听到的声音,也曾为古代的帝王和庶民喜听乐闻:

这同样的歌声也许增添过露丝的乡愁,使她站在异邦的谷田里热泪直流,

这歌声还常把神异的古堡迷住,迷住被幽禁在里面的年轻公主,

她伫立窗旁,凝视着大海的惊涛骇浪,孤寂的仙境使她闷得心慌.


Forlorn! the very word is like a bell

To toll me back from thee to my sole self!

Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well

As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades

Past the near meadows, over the still stream,

Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep

In the next valley-glades:

Was it a vision, or a waking dream?

Fled is that music: -- Do I wake or sleep?

孤寂!

这个词儿好似一声钟响,使我又回到我独自站立的地方.

别了!幻想这个妖精虽能把人欺骗,但并不像盛传的那样灵验.

别了!别了!

你如泣如诉的歌声逐渐飞逝,越过附近的草地,越过平静的小溪,

越过山坡; 这个时候它又隐没在另一个山沟.

这是幻觉,还是梦?

歌声远了——

我是在睡,还是醒?


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1818年,23岁的济慈在伦敦居住期间爱上了邻居女孩方妮,但同时也患上了肺痨. 他常想的两件事就是爱情的甜蜜和自己死去的时间. 在第二年年初的某一天,在鸟儿嘹亮的歌声中,他一口气写下了这首8节80多行的<夜莺颂>. 不到两年后,济慈病逝。

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