Ode to the West Wind [西 风 颂] by P. B. Shelley

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Original English text | Chinese [GB] translation | A portrait of the poet

                西  风  颂

                   雪莱
 
                    一

        剽悍的西风啊, 你是暮秋的呼吸,
        因你无形的存在, 枯叶四处逃窜,
        如同魔鬼见到了巫师, 纷纷躲避;


        那些枯叶, 有黑有白, 有红有黄,
        像遭受了瘟疫的群体, 哦, 你呀,
        西风, 你让种籽展开翱翔的翅膀,


        飞落到黑暗的冬床, 冰冷地躺下,
        像一具具尸体深葬于坟墓, 直到
        你那蔚蓝色的阳春姐妹凯旋归家,


        向睡梦中的大地吹响了她的号角,
        催促蓓蕾, 有如驱使吃草的群羊,
        让漫山遍野注满生命的芳香色调;


        剽悍的精灵, 你的身影遍及四方,
        哦,听吧, 你既在毁坏, 又在保藏!

                    二

        在你的湍流中, 在高空的骚动中,
        纷乱的云块就像飘零飞坠的叶子,
        你从天空和海洋相互交错的树丛


        抖落出传送雷雨以及闪电的天使;
        在你的气体波涛的蔚蓝色的表面,
        恰似酒神女祭司的头上竖起缕缕


        亮闪闪的青丝, 从朦胧的地平线
        一直到苍天的顶端, 全都披散着
        即将来临的一场暴风骤雨的发卷,


        你就是唱给垂死岁月的一曲挽歌,
        四合的夜幕, 是巨大墓陵的拱顶,
        它建构于由你所集聚而成的气魄,


        可是从你坚固的气势中将会喷迸
        黑雨、电火以及冰雹; 哦, 请听!


                    三

        你啊, 把蓝色的地中海从夏梦中
        唤醒, 它曾被清澈的水催送入眠,
        就一直躺在那个地方, 酣睡沉沉,


        睡在拜伊海湾的一个石岛的旁边,
        在睡梦中看到古老的宫殿和楼台
        在烈日之下的海波中轻轻地震颤,


        它们全都开满鲜花, 又生满青苔,
        散发而出的醉人的芳香难以描述!
        见到你, 大西洋的水波豁然裂开,


        为你让出道路, 而在海底的深处,
        枝叶里面没有浆汁的淤泥的丛林
        和无数的海花、珊瑚, 一旦听出


        你的声音, 一个个顿时胆战心惊,
        颤栗着, 像遭了劫掠, 哦, 请听!

                    四

        假如我是一片任你吹卷的枯叶,
        假若我是一朵随你飘飞的云彩,
        或是在你威力之下喘息的水波,


        分享你强健的搏动, 悠闲自在,
        不羁的风啊, 哪怕不及你自由,
        或者, 假若我能像童年的时代,


        陪伴着你在那天国里任意翱游,
        即使比你飞得更快也并非幻想──
        那么我绝不向你这般苦苦哀求:


        啊, 卷起我吧! 如同翻卷波浪、
        或像横扫落叶、或像驱赶浮云!
        我跃进人生的荆棘, 鲜血直淌!


        岁月的重负缚住了我这颗灵魂,
        它太像你了:敏捷、高傲、不驯。


                    五

        拿我当琴吧, 就像那一片树林,
        哪怕我周身的叶儿也同样飘落!
        你以非凡和谐中的狂放的激情


        让我和树林都奏出雄浑的秋乐,
        悲凉而又甜美。狂暴的精灵哟,
        但愿你我迅猛的灵魂能够契合!


        把我僵死的思想撒向整个宇宙,
        像枯叶被驱赶去催促新的生命!
        而且, 依凭我这首诗中的符咒,


        把我的话语传给天下所有的人,
        就像从未熄的炉中拨放出火花!
        让那预言的号角通过我的嘴唇


        向昏沉的大地吹奏! 哦, 风啊,
        如果冬天来了, 春天还会远吗?


发信人: violet (紫罗兰)
发信站: 鼓浪听涛 (Wed Apr 16 16:15:33 1997)



        
I
1     O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, 
2     Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
3     Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

4     Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
5     Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
6     Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed

7     The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
8     Each like a corpse within its grave, until
9     Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow

10   Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill
11   (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
12   With living hues and odours plain and hill:

13   Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;
14   Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!

II
15   Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky's commotion,
16   Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed,
17   Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,

18   Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
19   On the blue surface of thine a{:e}ry surge,
20   Like the bright hair uplifted from the head

21   Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge
22   Of the horizon to the zenith's height,
23   The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge

24   Of the dying year, to which this closing night
25   Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
26   Vaulted with all thy congregated might

27   Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
28   Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh hear!

III
29   Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
30   The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
31   Lull'd by the coil of his cryst{`a}lline streams,

32   Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay,
33   And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
34   Quivering within the wave's intenser day,

35   All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
36   So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou
37   For whose path the Atlantic's level powers

38   Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
39   The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
40   The sapless foliage of the ocean, know

41   Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,
42   And tremble and despoil themselves: oh hear!


IV
43   If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
44   If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
45   A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share

46   The impulse of thy strength, only less free
47   Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even
48   I were as in my boyhood, and could be

49   The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven,
50   As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
51   Scarce seem'd a vision; I would ne'er have striven

52   As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
53   Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
54   I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!

55   A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and bow'd
56   One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.


V
57   Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
58   What if my leaves are falling like its own!
59   The tumult of thy mighty harmonies

60     Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
61   Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
62   My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!

63   Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
64   Like wither'd leaves to quicken a new birth!
65   And, by the incantation of this verse,

66   Scatter, as from an unextinguish'd hearth
67   Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
68   Be through my lips to unawaken'd earth

69   The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
70   If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?


               - Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

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