书城外语那些年那些诗
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第23章 The Pride of Youth

Walter Scott

Proud Maisie is in the wood,

Walking so early;

Sweet Robin sits on the bush,

Singing so rarely.

“Tell me,thou bonny bird,

when shall I marry me?”

—“When six braw gentlemen

Kirkward shall carry ye.”

“Who makes the bridal bed,

Birdie,say truly?”

—“The gray-headed sexton

That delves the grave duly.

“The glowworm o’er grave and stone

Shall light thee steady;

The owl from the steeple sing,

Welcome,proud lady.”

青春的骄傲

瓦尔特·司各特

骄傲的梅西漫步林间,

踩着晨曦;

伶俐的知更鸟栖息树丛,

唱得甜蜜。

“告诉我,美丽的鸟儿,

我哪年哪月穿嫁衣?”——

“等到六个殡葬人

抬你上教堂。”

“谁为我铺新床?

好鸟儿,莫撒谎。”——

“白发司事,兼挖墓穴,

误不了你的洞房。”

“萤火虫幽幽闪闪,

把你的坟墓照亮,

猫头鹰将在塔尖高唱:

欢迎你,骄傲的姑娘。”

背景知识

瓦尔特·司各特(Walter Scott),英国著名的历史小说家和诗人。他十分欣赏德国的“狂飙文学”,翻译过德国著名民谣《莱诺尔》。司各特的诗充满浪漫的冒险故事,深受读者欢迎。但当时拜伦的诗才遮蔽了司各特的才华,司各特转向小说创作,从而首创英国历史小说,为英国文学提供了30多部历史小说巨著。司各特的创作对欧洲历史小说起了开创作用,被尊为历史小说的创始人。英国的狄更斯、斯蒂文森,法国的雨果、巴尔扎克、大仲马,俄国的普希金,意大利的曼佐尼,美国的库柏等著名作家都曾受到司各特的深刻影响。

单词注解

bush [buF] 灌木,灌木丛

bridal [5braidl] 新娘的;婚礼的

sexton [5sekstEn] 教堂司事

steeple [5sti:pl] 尖塔;尖顶

名句诵读

Proud Maisie is in the wood,Walking so early;Sweet Robin sits on the bush,Singing so rarely.

“Who makes the bridal bed,Birdie,say truly?”—“The gray-headed sexton That delves the grave duly.

“The glowworm o’er grave and stone Shall light thee steady;The owl from the steeple sing,Welcome,proud lady.”

第一章 Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

Thomas Gray

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea.

The plowman homeward plods his weary way,

And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,

And all the air a solemn stillness holds,

Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,

And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;

Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower

The moping owl does to the moon complain

Of such,as wandering near her secret bower,

Molest her ancient solitary reign.

Beneath those rugged elms,that yew tree’s shade,

Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,

Each in his narrow cell forever laid,

The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,

The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,

The cock’s shrill clarion,or the echoing horn,

No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.

For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,

Or busy housewife ply her evening care;

No children run to lisp their sire’s return,

Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,

Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;

How jocund did they drive their team afield!

How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,

Their homely joys,and destiny obscure;

Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile,

The short and simple annals of the poor.

The boast of heraldry,the pomp of power,

And all that beauty,all that wealth e’er gave,

Awaits alike the inevitable hour.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

写在教堂墓地的挽歌

托马斯·格雷

黄昏时分敲响了晚钟,

牛羊在草地上鸣叫归笼。

农夫疲惫地走在回家的路上,

把整个世界留给了黄昏与我。

大地微光正慢慢消尽,

四周肃穆宁静。

只有甲壳虫在空中飞舞,

昏沉的铃声催眠着远处的羊栏。

还有那长满青藤的塔楼上,

一只忧郁的猫头鹰对月亮发着怨气。

说有人走近了她秘密的闺房,

扰乱了她那悠久而幽静的领地。

峥嵘的榆树底下,紫杉的绿荫里,

累累荒冢在绿草中隆起。

个个都长眠在小小的幽室中,

小村里粗鄙的父老在那里安睡。

芬芳的晨风在轻唤,

茅屋的燕语在呢喃。

号角回荡,雄鸡高啼,

再也不能把他们唤出九泉。

熊熊的灶火不再为他们而燃烧,

主妇也不再为他们做晚饭。

孩子们也不再迎接父亲的到来,

也不会再趴到父亲的膝上索吻撒娇。

过去他们常拿镰刀去收割庄稼,

顽梗的泥板让他们犁出了垄沟;

一棵棵树木在他们刀下放倒,

赶着牲口下地,他们是何等的欣喜!

有抱负的人别嘲笑他们的辛苦,

他们的欢乐太家常,他们的命运太寻常。

高贵的人也勿对他们冷笑,

来听听穷人们简约的“家国兴亡”。

无论什么炫耀的功勋与权势,

无论美丑,无论贫富,

大限之时准不一样。

极度荣光也是通往坟墓。

背景知识

托马斯·格雷(Thomas Gray),英国新古典主义后期的重要诗人,“墓畔派”的代表人物。他出生在伦敦的一个经纪人家庭,一生中的大部分时间在剑桥大学从事教学与研究工作。他的生活可谓中规中矩,捷足而又稳健。

这首诗通过对乡村一处墓地的描写,表达对那些默默无闻的人民的深切同情。作者赞扬了他们淳朴善良的品质,为他们没有机会施展天赋和才华而惋惜,同时也表现了对权贵、人间虚荣的蔑视和嘲讽,对大人物傲慢奢侈生活的谴责。

单词注解

lea [li:] 草原,牧草地

glebe [^li:b] 土地;旱田

sturdy [5stE:di] 健壮的,结实的;

disdainful [dis5deinful] 轻蔑的;骄傲的

annal [5Anl] 记录

名句诵读

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea.

The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,The cock’s shrill clarion,or the echoing horn,No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.

The boast of heraldry,the pomp of power,And all that beauty,all that wealth e’er gave,Awaits alike the inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave.