To The Men Of England
牐1
牐燤en of England, wherefore plough
牐燜or the lords who lay ye low?
牐燱herefore weave with toil and care
牐燭he rich robes your tyrants wear?
牐2
牐燱herefore feed and clothe and save,
牐燜rom the cradle to the grave,
牐燭hose ungrateful drones who would
牐燚rain your sweat -- nay, drink your blood?
牐燶r
3燶r
Wherefore, Bees of England, forge
牐燤any a weapon, chain, and scourge,
牐燭hat these stingless drones may spoil
牐燭he forced produce of your toil?
牐4牐燶r
Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,
牐燬helter, food, love's gentle balm?
牐燨r what is it ye buy so dear
牐燱ith your pain and with your fear?
燶r
5牐燶r
The seed ye sow another reaps;
牐燭he wealth ye find another keeps;
牐燭he robes ye weave another wears;
牐燭he arms ye forge another bears.
牐6牐燶r
Sow seed, -- but let no tyrant reap;
牐燜ind wealth, -- let no imposter heap;
牐燱eave robes, -- let not the idle wear;
牐燜orge arms, in your defence to bear.
牐燶r
7牐燶r
Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells;
牐營n halls ye deck another dwells.
牐燱hy shake the chains ye wrought? Ye see
牐燭he steel ye tempered glance on ye.
牐燶r
8牐燶r
With plough and spade and hoe and loom,
牐燭race your grave, and build your tomb,
牐燗nd weave your winding-sheet, till fair
牐燛ngland be your sepulchre!
The flower that smiles today
Tomorrow dies;
All that we wish to stay
Tempts and then flies.
What is this world’s delight?
Lightning that mocks the night.
Brief even as bright.
纯洁品德何脆弱,宇宙何处求知音,
甜蜜爱情何短暂,失恋令人泪涟涟。
爱情飞去无踪影,孤苦伶仃度一生。
一朝春尽红颜老,花落人亡无处寻。
Virtue, how frail it is!
Friendship how rare!
Love, how it sells poor bliss
For proud despair!
But we,though soon they fall,
Survive their joy, and all
Which ours we call.
Whilst skies are blue and bright,
Whilst flowers are gay,
Whilst eyes that change ere night
Make glad the day;
Whilst yet the calm hours creep
Dream thou and from thy sleep
Then wake up to weep.
姑娘声音消失时 珀西•比希•雪莱 1792-1822
1
姑娘声音虽消失,余音仍然绕耳畔,
玫瑰花儿虽凋零,芳香依然在身旁。
2
我用绿叶做张床,送给我的心上人,
将来当她离开时,她的冰心和玉体,
永远不会消逝去,永远留在我心房。
Music,When Soft Voices Die
牐 1
Music, when soft voices die,
牐燰ibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
牐 Live within the sense they quicken.
2
牐燫ose leaves, when the rose is dead,
牐燗re heaped for the beloved's bed;
牐燗nd so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
牐燣ove itself shall slumber on.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-3-9 20:33 标题: 爱的哲学 LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY
The fountains mingle with the river, 泉水流入大江,
And the rivers with the ocean; 江河汇流海洋;
The winds of heaven mix forever, 天宇风聚八方-
With a sweet emotion. 满怀激情奔放。
No thing in the world is single; 世上无物孤零,
All things by a law divine 凡事神圣律定:
In one another's being mingle:- 彼此和谐相亲-
Why not I with thine? 缘何你我不成?
See!the mountains kiss high heaven, 瞧那山吻苍穹,
And the waves clasp on another; 波涛相连紧拥;
No sister flower would be forgiven 娇花鄙弃弟兄,
If it disdained its brother; 势将不得宽容。
And the sunlight clasps the earth, 阳光怀抱尘寰,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:- 月华与海缠绵;
What are all these kissings worth, 你我若不缱绻-
If thou kiss not me? 何为千金美谈?
The star may dissolve, and the fountain of light
星斗会消逝,而光明之源—
May sink into e'er ending chao's and night,
陷入无边的浑沌和黑暗,
Our mansions must fall and earth vanish away;
大厦倾覆,陆地忽然不见;
But thy courage, O Erin! may never decay.
但,爱尔兰!你的勇气不减。
See! the wide wasting ruin extends all around,
瞧!荒芜的废墟处处展现,
Our ancestors' dwellings lie sunk on the ground,
毁于大地,咱祖先的家园,
Our foes ride in triumph throughout our domains,
敌寇的铁蹄将领土踏遍,
And our mightiest horoes streched on the plains.
最猛的壮士却抛尸荒原。
Ah! dead is the harp which was wont to give pleasure,
啊!常予欢乐的竖琴已哑然,
Ah! sunk in our sweet country's rapturous measure,
啊!故乡消魂的乐曲在沉陷,
But the war note is weaked, and the clangour of spears,
而战鼓将息,铿锵的刀剑,
The dread yell of Slogan yet sounds in our ears.
可怖的厮杀声,回响耳边。 (畔)
Ah! where are the heroes! triumphant in death,
啊!英雄何在!虽死而凯旋,
Convulsed they recline on the blood-sprinkled heath,
血泊中挣扎,灌木被血染,
Or the yelling ghosts ride on the blast that sweeps by,
幽灵狂啸,御风横扫气旋,
And my countrymen! vengeance! incessantly cry.
同胞们!复仇啊!呐喊连连!
Hark! ’tis the rushing of a wind that sweeps
Earth and the ocean. See! The lightnings yawn
Deluging Heaven with fire, and the lashed deeps
Glitter and boil beneath: it rages on,
The mighty stream, whirlwind and waves upthrown,
Lightning and hail, and darkness eddying by.
There is a pause——the sea-birds, that were gone
Into their caves to shriek, come forth, to spy
What calm has fallen on earth, what light is in the sky.
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night 'tis my pillow white,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
Lightning my pilot sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
It struggles and howls at fits;
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills.
Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The Spirit he loves remains;
And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains.
The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the morning star shines dead;
As on the jag of a mountain crag,
Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit
In the light of its golden wings.
And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardours of rest and of love,
And the crimson pall of eve may fall
From the depth of Heaven above.
With wings folded I rest, on mine aery nest,
As still as a brooding dove.
That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the Moon,
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,
May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof.
The stars peep behind her and peer;
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,
Like a swarm of golden bees.
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.
I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone,
And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl;
The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
Over a torrent sea,
Sunbeam-proof, I hand like a roof, --
The mountains its columns be.
The triumphal arch through which I march
With hurricane, fire, and snow,
When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,
Is the million-coloured bow;
The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove,
While the moist Earth was laughing below.
I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-3-9 20:49 标题: 珀西·比希·雪莱
英国文学史上最有才华的抒情诗人之一。William Wordsworth曾称其为 "One of the best artists of us all“,同时期的拜伦称其为 "Without exception the best and least selfish man I ever knew", 更被誉为诗人中的诗人。其一生见识广泛,不仅是柏拉图主义者,更是个伟大的理想主义者。 创作的诗歌节奏明快,积极向上。
珀西·比希·雪莱,英国浪漫主义诗人,1792年生于苏萨科斯郡一个贵族家庭,12岁被送进伊顿贵族学校受教育1810年入牛津大学学习,第二年因发表《无神论的必然性》小册子被牛津大学开除,不久到都柏林参加爱尔兰人民的民族独立运动。1813年发表第一部长诗《麦布女王》,抨击封建制度的专横无道和英国资本主义制度的剥削,反映劳动人民的悲惨境遇,引起了英国资本主义阶级的仇视,1818年被迫侨居意大利。1818年发表长诗《伊斯兰的起义》,借用东方的故事歌颂资产阶级革命,抨击欧洲反动的封建势力。1819年完成诗剧《解放了的普罗米修斯》,诗剧采用古代神话题材,表达了反抗专制统治的斗争必将获胜的信念和空想社会主义的理想。同年完成的诗体悲剧《钦契一家》取材于意大利的历史故事,表达了反抗暴君的思想,是雪莱最具创造性的作品之一。雪莱还创作了《致英国人民》、《1819年的英国》、《暴政的假面游行》等政治抒情诗,强烈谴责封建统治集团的罪行,号召人民为自由而斗争。雪莱在《云》、《致云雀》、《西风颂》等抒情诗中,通过描写自然景象寄托自己的思想感情,作品想象丰富,音韵和谐,节奏明快,在英国诗歌史上占有重要地位。
雪莱在1822年7月驾小艇旅行途中,偶遇风暴,溺水于斯佩齐亚海湾,时年30岁。
8岁时雪莱就开始尝试写作诗歌,在伊顿的几年里,雪莱与其表兄托马斯合作了诗《流浪的犹太人》并出版了讽刺小说《扎斯特罗奇》。
12岁那年,雪莱进入伊顿公学,在那里他受到学长及教师的虐待,在当时的学校里这种现象十分普遍,但是雪莱并不象一般新生那样忍气吞声,他公然的反抗这些,而这种反抗的个性如火燃尽了他短暂的一生。
1810年,18岁的雪莱进入牛津大学,深受英国自由思想家休谟以及葛德文等人著作的影响,雪莱习惯性的将他关于上帝、政治和社会等问题的想法写成小册子散发给一些素不相识的人,并询问他们看后的意见。
1811年3月25日,由于散发《无神论的必然》(The Necessity of Atheism),入学不足一年的雪莱被牛津大学开除。雪莱的父亲是一位墨守成规的乡绅,他要求雪莱公开声明自己与《无神论的必然》毫无关系,而雪莱拒绝了,他因此被逐出家门。被切断经济支持的雪莱在两个妹妹的帮助下过了一段独居的生活,这一时期,他认识了哈丽雅特·韦斯特布鲁克(Harriet Westbrook),他妹妹的同学,一个小旅店店主的女儿。雪莱与这个十六岁的少女仅见了几次面,她是可爱的,又是可怜的,当雪莱在威尔士看到她来信称自己在家中受父亲虐待后便毅然赶回伦敦,带着这一身世可怜且恋慕他的少女踏上私奔的道路。他们在爱丁堡结婚,婚后住在约克。
1812年2月12日,同情被英国强行合并的爱尔兰的雪莱携妻子前往都柏林为了支持爱尔兰天主教徒的解放事业,在那里雪莱发表了慷慨激昂的演说,并散发《告爱尔兰人民书》以及《成立博爱主义者协会倡议书》。在政治热情的驱使下,此后的一年里雪莱在英国各地旅行,散发他自由思想的小册子。同年11月完成叙事长诗《麦布女王》,这首诗富于哲理,抨击宗教的伪善、封建阶级与劳动阶级当中存在的所有的不平等。
1815年,雪莱的祖父逝世,按照当时的长子继承法当时在经济上十分贫困的雪莱获得了一笔年金,但他拒绝独享,而将所得财产与妹妹分享。这一年除了《阿拉斯特》之外,雪莱较多创作的是一些涉及哲学以及政治的短文。
次年五月,携玛丽(雪莱后来的第二任妻子)再度同游欧洲,在日内瓦湖畔与拜伦交往密切,这两位同代伟大诗人的友谊一直保持到雪莱逝世,雪莱后来的作品《朱利安和马达洛》便是以拜伦与自己作为原型来创作的。同年11月,雪莱的妻子投河自尽,在法庭上,因为是《麦布女王》的作者,大法官将两个孩子教养权判给其岳父,为此,雪莱受到沉重的打击,就连他最亲的朋友都不敢在他的面前提及他的孩子,出于痛苦及愤怒,雪莱写就《致大法官》和《给威廉·雪莱》。雪莱与玛丽结婚,为了不致影响到他与玛丽所生孩子的教养权,雪莱携家永远离开英国。
1818年至1819年,雪莱完成了两部重要的长诗《解放了的普罗米修斯》和《倩契》,以及其不朽的名作《西风颂》。《解放了的普罗米修斯》与《麦布女王》相同,无法公开出版,而雪莱最成熟、结构最完美的作品《倩契》则被英国的评论家称为“当代最恶劣的作品,似出于恶魔之手”。
1821年2月23日,约翰·济慈逝世,6月,雪莱写就《阿多尼》来抒发自己对济慈的悼念之情,并控诉造成济慈早逝的英国文坛以及当时社会现状。
1822年7月8日,雪莱乘坐自己建造的小船“唐璜”号从莱杭度海返回勒瑞奇途中遇风暴,舟覆,雪莱以及同船的两人无一幸免。按托斯卡纳当地法律规定,任何海上漂来的物体都必须付之一炬,雪莱的遗体由他生前的好友拜伦及特列劳尼以希腊式的仪式来安排火化,他们将乳香抹在尸体上,在火中洒盐。次年1月,雪莱的骨灰被带回罗马,葬于一处他生前认为最理想的安息场所。
[ 本帖最后由 ououmama 于 2012-3-9 20:58 编辑 ]. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-3-9 20:53 标题: 一个词经常被亵渎 ONE WORD IS TOO OFEN PROFANED
One word is too often profaned
One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it,
One feeling too falsely disdained
For thee to disdain it.
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
And pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.
二 2
I can give not what men call love,
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above
And the Heavens reject not,
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?.