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短暂的生命 激越的诗情…纪念曾经的一个冬日

(2010-02-20 10:44:36) 下一个

读一个八十岁的台大英美文学教授所写的书《巨流河》,中间她提到的英国文学浪漫派诗歌一段,撩起我记忆深处的涟漪。 

英国浪漫主义运动是世界文学史上非常重要的篇章,拜伦、雪莱、济慈更是其中翘楚。他们的作品流传至今,是任何一位文学爱好者尤其是西方文学爱好者的必读。 

还记得当年瘦小的教授给我们上英国文学课,在一个冬日的早晨,老教授高举的细细的胳膊像一节一节的香肠被滑雪衫包裹着,紧握的双拳在冰冷的空气中有力地摇晃,他略带伦敦腔的暗哑的嗓音仿佛冬夜里从北方刮来掠过黄浦江上的西北风: 

The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,

If  Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

(让预言的号角奏鸣!哦,风啊,

冬天如果来了,春天还会远吗? 

那个冬天对我十分得难忘,不仅是因为那年我正好转进二十岁的人生轨道, 而且因为一个我这一生最初爱恋的男生毕业了离开了校园,所以那个漫长的冬日里形影孤单的我从图书馆里借了一本又一本的厚厚的无人感兴趣的老旧小说,让自己的思绪在《静静的顿河》上飘浮,在《约翰克里斯朵夫》的陪伴下消磨时光。 

那时的英国文学课有时却是很枯燥的,莎士比亚的十四行诗并不如他的戏剧那么容易让人懂,那些英语的“文言文”,曾经让我们很多人在课堂上哈欠连天、昏昏欲睡!老教授的有关英国三位浪漫派诗人的滔滔不绝,我只记住他们的共同点就是卓越的文思和早逝的宿命。拜伦死于36岁,雪莱30岁,济慈26岁!那时,我曾天真地想过,如果我的爱情也如冰山上的雪莲,我的那几首拙诗有人能懂,我也无悔卒于年少。因为那会儿信奉生命不在于长久,而在于热烈!那三位英国诗人不正是因为他们过于凝练的生命,才使诗意爆发得那么蓬勃?!  

现在想想那时的我天真得可笑,自命不凡!想去天堂,也没有路啊。上帝早就为每个人安排好了一切,我注定是个平凡不过的人,过一个平凡不过的一生!

  

二十多年后的一个冬日的早晨,我翻出雪莱的《西风颂》 ,原想激昂地背诵却成了结结巴巴地朗读:

 

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,

Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead

Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,  

Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,

Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,

Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed  

The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,

Each like a corpse within its grave, until

Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow  

Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill

(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)

With living hues and odours plain and hill:  

Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;

Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!  

II  

Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky’s commotion,

Loose clouds like earth’s decaying leaves are shed,

Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,  

Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread

On the blue surface of thine a?ry surge,

Like the bright hair uplifted from the head  

Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge

Of the horizon to the zenith’s height,

The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge  

Of the dying year, to which this closing night

Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,

Vaulted with all thy congregated might  

Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere

Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh hear!  

III  

Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams

The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,

Lull’d by the coil of his crystàlline streams,  

Beside a pumice isle in Baiae’s bay,

And saw in sleep old palaces and towers

Quivering within the wave’s intenser day,  

All overgrown with azure moss and flowers

So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou

For whose path the Atlantic’s level powers  

Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below

The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear

The sapless foliage of the ocean, know  

Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,

And tremble and despoil themselves: oh hear!  

IV  

If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;

If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;

A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share  

The impulse of thy strength, only less free

Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even

I were as in my boyhood, and could be  

The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven,

As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed

Scarce seem’d a vision; I would ne’er have striven  

As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.

Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!

I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!  

A heavy weight of hours has chain’d and bow’d

One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.  

V  

Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:

What if my leaves are falling like its own!

The tumult of thy mighty harmonies  

Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,

Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,

My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!  

Drive my dead thoughts over the universe

Like wither’d leaves to quicken a new birth!

And, by the incantation of this verse,  

Scatter, as from an unextinguish’d hearth

Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!

Be through my lips to unawaken’d earth  

The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?  

《西风颂》  

雪莱  

1  

哦,犷野的西风,你秋之实体的气息!

由于你无形无影的出现,万木萧疏,

似鬼魅逃避驱魔巫师,蔫黄,魆黑,  

苍白,潮红,疫疠摧残的落叶无数,

四散飘舞;哦,你又把有翅的种籽

凌空运送到他们阴暗的越冬床圃;  

仿佛是一具具僵卧在坟墓里的尸体,

他们将分别蛰伏,冷落而又凄凉,

直到阳春你蔚蓝的姐妹向梦中的大地  

吹响她嘹亮的号角(如同牧放群羊,

驱送香甜的花蕾到空气中觅食就饮)

给高山平原注满生命的色彩和芬芳。

不羁的精灵,你啊,你到处运行;

你破坏,你也保存,听,哦,听!  

2  

在你的川流上,在骚动的高空,

纷乱的乌云,那雨和电的天使,

正像大地凋零枯败的落叶无穷, 

挣脱天空和海洋交错缠接的柯枝,

飘流奔泻;在你清虚的波涛表面,

似梅娜德头上扬起的蓬勃青丝,  

从那茫茫地平线阴暗的边缘

直到苍穹的绝顶,到处都散布着

迫近的暴风雨飘摇翻腾的发卷。  

你啊,垂死残年的挽歌,四合的夜幕

在你聚集的全部水汽威力支撑下,

将构成他那庞大墓穴的拱形顶部。 

从你那雄浑磅礴的氛围,将迸发

黑色的雨、火、冰雹;哦,听啊!  

3  

你,哦,是你把蓝色的地中海

从梦中唤醒,他在一整个夏天

都酣睡在贝伊湾一座浮石岛外, 

被澄澈的流水喧哗声催送入眠,

梦见了古代的楼台、塔堡和宫闱,

在澎湃汹涌的波光里不住地抖颤,  

全都长满了蔚蓝色苔藓和花卉,

馨香馥郁,如醉的知觉难以描摹。

哦,为了给你让路,大西洋水  

豁然开裂,而在浩淼波澜深处,

海底花藻和枝叶无汁的淤泥丛林,

哦,由于把你的呼啸声辨认出, 

一时都惨然变色,胆怵心惊,

战栗着自行凋落;听,哦,听!  

4  

我若是一朵轻捷的浮云,能随你同飞, 

我若是一片落叶,能为你所提携,

我若是一重波浪,能喘息于你的神威,  

分享你雄强的脉搏,自由不羁,

仅次于,哦,仅次于不可控制的你;

我若能像在少年时,作为伴侣,  

随你同游天际,因为在那时节,

似乎超越你天界的神速也不为奇迹;

我也就不至于像现在这样急切,  

向你苦苦祈求。哦,快把我飏起,

就像你飏起波浪、浮云、落叶!

我倾覆于人生的荆棘!我在流血!  

岁月的重负压制着的这一个太像你,

像你一样,骄傲,不驯,而且敏捷。 

5  

像你以森林演奏,请也以我为琴,

哪怕我的叶片也像森林的一样凋谢!

你那非凡和谐的慷慨激越之情,  

定能从森林和我同奏出深沉的秋乐,

悲怆却又甘洌。但愿你勇猛的精灵

竟是我的魂魄,我能成为剽悍的你!  

请把我枯萎的思绪播送宇宙,

就像你驱遣落叶催促新的生命,

请凭借我这韵文写就的符咒, 

就像从未灭的余烬飏出炉灰和火星,

把我的话语传遍天地间万户千家,

通过我的嘴唇,向沉睡未醒的人境,  

让预言的号角奏鸣!哦,风啊,

冬天如果来了,春天还会远吗

仅以此文纪念多年前的那个冬天!

 

A Red, Red Rose 红红的玫瑰

成熟....青涩岁月的诗句

十七岁诗选 二

十七岁诗选 一

Beautiful dreamer 美丽的梦神

 

 

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julia42163 回复 悄悄话 Just found my 雪莱诗选(江枫 译) from the book shelf, same translation. This poem brought my thoughts to 20+ years ago too...time flys... Thanks for sharing.
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