书城外语那些年那些诗
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第8章 O Captain! My Captain

Walt Whitman

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weathered every rack,the prize we sought is won.

The port is near,the bells I hear,the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel,the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills.

For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths —for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call,the swaying mass,their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer,his lips are pale and still;

My father does not feel my arm,he has no pulse nor will;

The ship is anchored safe and sound,its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult,O shores,and ring,O bells!

But I with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

哦,船长,我的船长!

瓦尔特·惠特曼

哦,船长,我的船长!我们所畏惧的的航程已经终结,

我们的船渡过了各种险关,我们寻求的奖赏已经得到。

前方就是港口,钟声我已听见,听到了人们的欢呼,

目迎着我们的船从容返航,威严而且勇敢;

可是,心啊!心啊!心啊!

哦,殷红的血滴流泻,

在甲板上,我的船长倒下了,

他已倒下,已死去,已冷却。

哦,船长,我的船长!起来听听这钟声吧,

起来,——旌旗为你招展——号角为你长鸣。

为你,岸上挤满了人群——为你,无数花束、彩带、花环。

为你,熙攘的群众在呼唤,转动着多少殷切的脸。

这里,船长!亲爱的父亲!

你的头枕在我的手臂上吧!

这是甲板上的一场梦啊,

你已倒下,已死去,已冷却。

我们的船长不作回答,他的双唇惨白而僵硬,

我的父亲感觉不到我的手臂,他已没有脉搏、没有生命,

我们的船已安全抛锚定泊,航行已完成,已告终,

胜利的船从险恶的旅途归来,目的已经达到;

欢呼吧,哦,海岸!轰鸣,哦,钟声!

但是,我迈着悲恸的步伐,

在甲板上,那里躺着我的船长,

他已倒下,已死去,已冷却。

背景知识

瓦尔特·惠特曼(Walt Whitman),美国历史上最伟大的诗人,他创作的《草叶集》代表着美国浪漫主义文学的高峰,是世界文学宝库中的精品。在《草叶集》中,他歌颂的对象都是处于社会下层的体力劳动者,如车夫、矿工和农人等,并对美国的前途充满了信心,是一位真正的民族诗人。

惠特曼的诗大气磅礴,激情奔放,起伏跌宕。这是诗人惠特曼为悼念林肯而写下的著名诗篇。诗人用航船战胜惊涛骇浪到达港口比喻林肯领导的南北战争的胜利结束,以领航的船长象征林肯总统的丰功伟绩,在万众欢腾之中,以一曲悲歌,赞颂一位伟大人物。

单词注解

exult [i^5zQlt] 狂喜;欢欣鼓舞

bugle [5bju:^l] 军号,喇叭

pale [peil] 苍白的,灰白的

anchor [5ANkE] 锚

tread [tred] 步行,走

名句诵读

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;The ship has weathered every rack,the prize we sought is won.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills.

It is some dream that on the deck,You’ve fallen cold and dead.