基本介紹
- 中文名：在本布爾山下
- 外文名：Under Ben Bulben
- 創作者：威廉·巴特勒·葉芝
- 英文名：William Butler Yeats
- 出生時間：1865
作品原文,漢語譯文,作者簡介,
作品原文
英文原版
《Under Ben Bulben》
《Under Ben Bulben》
I
Swear by what the sages spoke
Round the Mareotic Lake
That the Witch of Atlas knew,
Spoke and set the cocks a-crow.
Swear by those horsemen, by those women
Complexion and form prove superhuman,
That pale, long-visaged company
That air in immortality
Completeness of their passions won;
Now they ride the wintry dawn
Where Ben Bulben sets the scene.
Here's the gist of what they mean.
II
Many times man lives and dies
Between his two eternities,
That of race and that of soul,
And ancient Ireland knew it all.
Whether man die in his bed
Or the rifle knocks him dead,
A brief parting from those dear
Is the worst man has to fear.
Though grave-diggers' toil is long,
Sharp their spades, their muscles strong.
They but thrust their buried men
Back in the human mind again.
III
You that Mitchel's prayer have heard,
'Send war in our time, O Lord!'
Know that when all words are said
And a man is fighting mad,
Something drops from eyes long blind,
He completes his partial mind,
For an instant stands at ease,
Laughs aloud, his heart at peace.
Even the wisest man grows tense
With some sort of violence
Before he can accomplish fate,
Know his work or choose his mate.
IV
Poet and sculptor, do the work,
Nor let the modish painter shirk
What his great forefathers did.
Bring the soul of man to God,
Make him fill the cradles right.
Measurement began our might:
Forms a stark Egyptian thought,
Forms that gentler phidias wrought.
Michael Angelo left a proof
On the Sistine Chapel roof,
Where but half-awakened Adam
Can disturb globe-trotting Madam
Till her bowels are in heat,
proof that there's a purpose set
Before the secret working mind:
Profane perfection of mankind.
Quattrocento put in paint
On backgrounds for a God or Saint
Gardens where a soul's at ease;
Where everything that meets the eye,
Flowers and grass and cloudless sky,
Resemble forms that are or seem
When sleepers wake and yet still dream.
And when it's vanished still declare,
With only bed and bedstead there,
That heavens had opened.
Gyres run on;
When that greater dream had gone
Calvert and Wilson, Blake and Claude,
Prepared a rest for the people of God,
Palmer's phrase, but after that
Confusion fell upon our thought.
V
Irish poets, earn your trade,
Sing whatever is well made,
Scorn the sort now growing up
All out of shape from toe to top,
Their unremembering hearts and heads
Base-born products of base beds.
Sing the peasantry, and then
Hard-riding country gentlemen,
The holiness of monks, and after
Porter-drinkers' randy laughter;
Sing the lords and ladies gay
That were beaten into the clay
Through seven heroic centuries;
Cast your mind on other days
That we in coming days may be
Still the indomitable Irishry.
VI
Under bare Ben Bulben's head
In Drumcliff churchyard Yeats is laid.
An ancestor was rector there
Long years ago, a church stands near,
By the road an ancient cross.
No marble, no conventional phrase;
On limestone quarried near the spot
By his command these words are cut:
Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!
Swear by what the sages spoke
Round the Mareotic Lake
That the Witch of Atlas knew,
Spoke and set the cocks a-crow.
Swear by those horsemen, by those women
Complexion and form prove superhuman,
That pale, long-visaged company
That air in immortality
Completeness of their passions won;
Now they ride the wintry dawn
Where Ben Bulben sets the scene.
Here's the gist of what they mean.
II
Many times man lives and dies
Between his two eternities,
That of race and that of soul,
And ancient Ireland knew it all.
Whether man die in his bed
Or the rifle knocks him dead,
A brief parting from those dear
Is the worst man has to fear.
Though grave-diggers' toil is long,
Sharp their spades, their muscles strong.
They but thrust their buried men
Back in the human mind again.
III
You that Mitchel's prayer have heard,
'Send war in our time, O Lord!'
Know that when all words are said
And a man is fighting mad,
Something drops from eyes long blind,
He completes his partial mind,
For an instant stands at ease,
Laughs aloud, his heart at peace.
Even the wisest man grows tense
With some sort of violence
Before he can accomplish fate,
Know his work or choose his mate.
IV
Poet and sculptor, do the work,
Nor let the modish painter shirk
What his great forefathers did.
Bring the soul of man to God,
Make him fill the cradles right.
Measurement began our might:
Forms a stark Egyptian thought,
Forms that gentler phidias wrought.
Michael Angelo left a proof
On the Sistine Chapel roof,
Where but half-awakened Adam
Can disturb globe-trotting Madam
Till her bowels are in heat,
proof that there's a purpose set
Before the secret working mind:
Profane perfection of mankind.
Quattrocento put in paint
On backgrounds for a God or Saint
Gardens where a soul's at ease;
Where everything that meets the eye,
Flowers and grass and cloudless sky,
Resemble forms that are or seem
When sleepers wake and yet still dream.
And when it's vanished still declare,
With only bed and bedstead there,
That heavens had opened.
Gyres run on;
When that greater dream had gone
Calvert and Wilson, Blake and Claude,
Prepared a rest for the people of God,
Palmer's phrase, but after that
Confusion fell upon our thought.
V
Irish poets, earn your trade,
Sing whatever is well made,
Scorn the sort now growing up
All out of shape from toe to top,
Their unremembering hearts and heads
Base-born products of base beds.
Sing the peasantry, and then
Hard-riding country gentlemen,
The holiness of monks, and after
Porter-drinkers' randy laughter;
Sing the lords and ladies gay
That were beaten into the clay
Through seven heroic centuries;
Cast your mind on other days
That we in coming days may be
Still the indomitable Irishry.
VI
Under bare Ben Bulben's head
In Drumcliff churchyard Yeats is laid.
An ancestor was rector there
Long years ago, a church stands near,
By the road an ancient cross.
No marble, no conventional phrase;
On limestone quarried near the spot
By his command these words are cut:
Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!
漢語譯文
第一章
憑著圍繞馬理奧提克的輕波的
那些聖人所說的一切，起誓說，
阿特勒斯的女巫確確實實知道，
講了出來，還讓一隻只雞叫。
憑著那些騎士、女人——體形和膚色
都證明了他們真是超人，起誓說，
臉色蒼白、面容瘦長的伴侶，
永遠、永遠充滿了生機的空氣，
贏得了他們激情的完整；
此刻，他們疾駛在冬日的黎明，
本布爾本山是他們身後的景致。
這些，是他們想說的要旨。
第二章
許多次，一個人死，一個人生
在他們那兩個來世之中，
民族的來世，靈魂的來世，
古老的愛爾蘭熟悉這一切．
無論人是死在他的床上，
或送他命的是一聲槍響，
與親愛的人們的暫時分離
是人都恐懼的最糟的事。
雖然挖墳者的勞作悠長，
他們的鐵鍬鋒利，肌肉強壯，
他們只是把他們埋葬的人
重新推進了人類的思想中。
第三章
你聽到過米切爾的禱告聲聲：
“主呵，結我們的時代帶來戰爭！”
你知道，當一切話兒都已說完，
而一個人正在瘋狂地鏖戰，
從早巳瞎的眼睛裡落下了什麼，
他完整了他不完整的思索．
於是有一會兒站得消停，
高聲大笑，心裡一片寧靜。
甚至最聰明的人在使命實現、
工作認識、夥伴選擇之前，
也全因為某種暴力行為，
心裡總是感到那么惴惴。
第四章
詩人和雕塑家，乾你們的工作，
別讓那種時髦的畫家一味去躲
他的偉大的祖先曾做過的事，
把人的靈魂給上帝帶去，
使他把搖籃正確地填好。
衡量開始了我們的力量，
——個典型的埃及人把形狀思想，
溫和的費迪阿斯做出的形狀。
在西斯汀教堂的屋頂中，
米開朗琪羅留下了證明；
那裡，只是一個半醒的亞當
就能夠使走遍地球的女人惶惶，
最後她的內心一片激情洋溢，
證明有一個預先確定的目的，
在那秘密工作的思想之前，
人類的完美實際上平凡。
十五世紀的義大利的大師，
設計上帝和聖人的背景時，
總畫著花園，那裡靈魂安寧，
人們看到的一切東西，
花朵、芳革．還有無雲的天空，
多像睡覺的人醒了又在夢中，
看到的那些仿佛如此的形狀
這種形狀消失了，只剩下床
和床架，依然在聲言
天國的門打開了。
喔旋轉
一場更大的夢已經消逝，
卡爾弗特和威爾遜、布萊克和克勞德，
為信上帝的人準備了一種休息，
是帕爾默的話吧，但在那之後，
我們的思想就充滿了混亂、憂愁。
第五章
歌唱那美好地做成的一切，
輕視那種正從頭到腳
都已失去了模樣的奧妙，
他們缺乏記憶的頭和心——
低卑的床上的低卑的產品。
歌唱農民們，然後是
策馬疾駛的鄉間紳士，
修士們的神聖，仿效
飲完苦啤酒的人狂笑；
歌唱那些歡樂的爵士和夫人，
那是在英勇的七個世紀中
形成的最根本的本質；
讓你的頭腦想著其它的日子，
這樣．我們在將來依然能
第六章
在光禿禿的本布爾本山頭下面，
葉芝躺於特拉姆克力夫墓地中間。
一個祖先曾是那裡的教區長，
許多年之俞，一座教堂就在近旁，
在路旁，是一個古老的十字架，
沒有大理石碑，也沒有套話；
在附近采來的石灰石上，
是按他的指示刻下的字樣：
對生活，對死亡
投上冷冷的一眼
騎士呵，向前！
