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艾米丽 狄金森为美而死——艾米莉·迪金森
为美而死——艾米莉·迪金森名诗精选
(I DIED for beauty——Emily Dickinson Selected Poems) 艾米莉·迪金森（Emily Dickinson，1830-1886），美国最富传奇性的抒情诗人。生前只发表了七首诗，诗作几乎全部在她死后才发表。生前自我幽闭，死后方始名声大噪。迪金森出生于律师家庭。青少年时代生活单调而平静。25岁起弃绝社交，闭门不出，在孤独中埋头写诗30年。她的诗用平凡亲切的语言描写了爱情、死亡和自然。她遗留下来的1775首诗歌和大量信件显示出她是一个多情而有才智的女性。她的精美技巧使她的诗歌、信件与生活都成了艺术。1870年后她在家只穿白色服装，很少会客。她被视为20世纪现代主义诗歌的先驱之一，和美国文学之父欧文、诗人惠特曼比肩。 第一部分：生活 这是我写给世界的信， 那从未写信给我的世界， 自然以温柔的庄严， 告诉给我的简单的消息。 她的信息发送给 我无法看见的手； 为了爱她，亲爱的同胞， 请温和地把我评判！ THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me, The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty. Her message is committed To hands I cannot see; For love of her, sweet countrymen, Judge tenderly of me! 那些从未成功过的人， 认为成功最为甜蜜。 为了领会一滴甘露 需要最深刻的痛苦。 任何一位今天掌旗的 紫色的主人 都无法像失败的 垂死者那样 清晰地说出胜利的含义， 在后者那封闭的耳中 那遥远的凯旋曲 撕裂，苦闷而清晰。 SUCCESS is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple host Who took the flag to-day Can tell the definition, So clear, of victory, As he, defeated, dying, On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Break, agonized and clear. 我们有一个黑夜要忍受， 我们有一个黎明， 我们有一份欢乐要填充， 我们有一份轻蔑。 这里一颗星，那里一颗星， 有的迷失了道路。 这里是雾，那里是雾， 然后——是白昼！ OUR share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning. Here a star, and there a star, Some lose their way. Here a mist, and there a mist, Afterwards—day! 我们输——因为我们赢过—— 赌徒们——记起了这些 又掷起了他们的骰子！ We lose -- because we win -- Gamblers -- recollecting which Toss their dice again! 如果我能阻止一颗心的破碎， 我的生活将不是徒劳； 如果我能安慰一个生命的疼痛， 平息一个人的痛苦， 或是帮助一只昏迷的知更鸟 重新回到巢中， 我的生活将不是徒劳。 IF I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain. 在我所及之处！ 我本来可以触摸得到！ 我本来可以碰巧走那条路！ 轻轻地闲逛着穿过村庄， 轻轻地闲逛着离开！ 如此没有预料到的紫罗兰 低低地躺在田野里， 对于努力的手指已经太晚 那一小时前路过的一切。 WITHIN my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village, Sauntered as soft away! So unsuspected violets Within the fields lie low, Too late for striving fingers That passed, an hour ago. 受伤的鹿跳得最高， 我听猎手这样说过； 那仅仅是死亡的狂喜， 然后车闸猛地刹住。 被敲击的岩石迸溅， 被践踏的钢条弹跳： 总是显得更红的脸颊 仅仅是肺病在叮咬！ 欢乐是痛苦的铠甲， 用它小心地武装起来， 免得有人窥见了血迹 惊叫：“你受伤了！” A WOUNDED deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still. The smitten rock that gushes, The trampled steel that springs: A cheek is always redder Just where the hectic stings! Mirth is the mail of anguish, In which it caution arm, Lest anybody spy the blood And “You ’re hurt” exclaim! 一种正在衰退的珍贵的快乐 是遭遇一本古老的书， 他恰恰穿着那个世纪的打扮； 我认为，这是一种特权， 他庄严的手握在 我们手中，变得温暖， 一两个段落，通向 他青春年少的时代。 去探察他奇特的想法， 去揭开他奥秘的知识 那古老的文学， 和我们的思想有什么关联。 是什么使学者最感兴趣， 举行过什么样的竞赛 当柏拉图是一个必然， 而索福克勒斯是个人； 当萨福还是个活泼的少女， 而贝亚特里齐穿着 但丁崇拜的长袍。 若干世纪前的事实 他了解得非常详细， 如同一个人来到镇上 告诉你，你所有的梦都是真的： 他生活在梦诞生的地方。 他的存在让人着魔， 你恳求他不要离开； 而古书摇着他们上等皮纸的脑袋 逗引着你，不过如此。 A PRECIOUS, mouldering pleasure ’t is To meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege, I think, His venerable hand to take, And warming in our own, A passage back, or two, to make To times when he was young. His quaint opinions to inspect, His knowledge to unfold On what concerns our mutual mind, The literature of old; What interested scholars most, What competitions ran When Plato was a certainty, And Sophocles a man; When Sappho was a living girl, And Beatrice wore The gown that Dante deified. Facts, centuries before, He traverses familiar, As one should come to town And tell you all your dreams were true: He lived where dreams were born. His presence is enchantment, You beg him not to go; Old volumes shake their vellum heads And tantalize, just so. 对于明察秋毫的眼睛 有不少疯狂是最神圣的认识； 有不少认识是最彻底的疯狂。 在这里，和别的方面一样 也是多数在支配。 附和，你就是明智； 反对——你马上就陷入危险， 并被锁链加身。 MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority In this, as all, prevails. Assent, and you are sane; Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous, And handled with a chain. 灵魂选择自己的伴侣， 然后关上门； 神圣的多数 对她再没有意义。 不为所动，她发现车辇停在 她低矮的门前； 不为所动，一个皇帝跪在 她的门垫上。 我知道她从一个富有的民族 挑选了一个； 然后关上了她注意的阀门 像石头一样。 THE SOUL selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more. Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing At her low gate; Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling Upon her mat. I ’ve known her from an ample nation Choose one; Then close the valves of her attention Like stone. 有什么东西在那里飞，—— 鸟儿，时辰，跌跌撞撞的蜜蜂： 没有关于这些的挽歌。 有什么东西在那里停留，—— 悲哀，山冈，永恒： 这也与我无关。 那些休眠者，起身。 我能否阐释天空？ 那谜语多么安静地躺着！ SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,— Grief, hills, eternity: Nor this behooveth me. There are, that resting, rise. Can I expound the skies? How still the riddle lies! 呐喊着去战斗固然勇敢， 但是我知道， 与内心苦恼的骑兵搏斗， 更加英勇。 胜了，不会有国人看见， 败了，也无人察觉， 那些垂死的眼睛 不会有人带着爱国的热忱来凝视。 我们相信，天使们正是为此 在羽毛装饰的队伍中行进， 一排接一排，步伐整齐 身着雪白的制服。 TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe. Who win, and nations do not see, Who fall, and none observe, Whose dying eyes no country Regards with patriot love. We trust, in plumed procession, For such the angels go, Rank after rank, with even feet And uniforms of snow. 当黑夜快结束的时候， 当日出变得如此接近 我们可以触摸空间， 是把头发梳理整齐 准备好笑脸的时候了。 我们惊讶，我们竟然会在意 那陈旧的消逝的午夜， 那恐怖的一小时。 WHEN night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It ’s time to smooth the hair And get the dimples ready, And wonder we could care For that old faded midnight That frightened but an hour. 痛苦有一种空白的性质； 它无法回忆起 它是何时开始的，或者是否 有一天它不再存在。 它没有未来，只有它自己， 它无穷的国土包含了 它的过去，启发人去领略 痛苦的新时代。 PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself, Its infinite realms contain Its past, enlightened to perceive New periods of pain. 我品尝了一种从未酿造过的酒， 用珍珠掏空挖成的酒杯； 并非莱茵河上所有的酒桶 都能流出这样的琼浆！ 我是空气的酒鬼， 我纵情于露水， 从熔化的蓝天的酒馆中， 踉跄而出，穿过无尽的夏日。 当房东把喝醉的蜜蜂 赶出毛地黄的家门， 当蝴蝶否认它们的酒浆， 我还要饮得更多！ 直到六翼天使摇晃着雪白的帽子， 直到圣徒们奔到窗前， 来看这小小的酗酒者 斜靠着太阳！ I TASTE a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. When landlords turn the drunken bee Out of the foxglove’s door, When butterflies renounce their drams, I shall but drink the more! Till seraphs swing their snowy hats, And saints to windows run, To see the little tippler Leaning against the sun! 我没有时间恨，因为 坟墓会妨碍我， 生命并不那么宽敞 我无法把敌意完成。 我也没有时间爱；可是既然 必须做点什么， 爱的小小的劳烦，我以为 对我已是足够沉重。 I HAD no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love; but since Some industry must be, The little toil of love, I thought, Was large enough for me. 我是无名之辈！你是谁？ 难道，你也是无名之辈？ 那么我们就是一对儿了——不要说话！ 他们会放逐我们，你知道。 做一个某某有多厌倦！ 有多出名，仿佛有一只青蛙 整天都在说着你的名字 对着一片令人赞赏的沼泽！ I ’m nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? Then there ’s a pair of us—don’t tell! They ’d banish us, you know. How dreary to be somebody! How public, like a frog To tell your name the livelong day To an admiring bog! 希望是带羽毛的东西 栖息在灵魂中， 唱着无词的曲调， 从不会完全停息 在暴风中听起来最为甜蜜； 暴风一定很是恼火 它能让那温暖众人的小鸟 困窘不安。 我曾在最寒冷的陆地， 在最陌生的海上听到它； 但是，在绝境中，它也从不向我 索取些微的面包。 HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I ’ve heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me. 凭很少的骑士精神 一朵花，一本书， 微笑的种子被种下—— 在黑暗中开放 By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted -- Which blossom in the dark. 灵魂对于它自己 是一个威严的朋友， 是敌人所能派遣的 最让人不安的间谍。 为了防范它自己， 灵魂不害怕背叛； 它是自己的主宰 应该敬畏自己。 THE SOUL unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send. Secure against its own, No treason it can fear; Itself its sovereign, of itself The soul should stand in awe. 欢乐变成了图画 当你透过痛苦去看， 显得更美，因为不可能 再度得到。 远处的山 躺在琥珀中； 靠近，琥珀飞走远了一点， 那是天空！ DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountain at a given distance In amber lies; Approached, the amber flits a little,— And that ’s the skies! 今天一个思想出现在我的脑海 我以前曾经有过， 但没有完成——处于萌芽状态， 我无法确定是在哪一年 它去了哪里，为什么 第二次来到我的脑海， 我也没有技艺 确切地说出它是什么。 但是在我灵魂的某处，我知道 我以前曾经与之相遇； 它仅仅是提醒我——仅仅如此 以后再也没有出现。 A THOUGHT went up my mind to-day That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year, Nor where it went, nor why it came The second time to me, Nor definitely what it was, Have I the art to say. But somewhere in my soul, I know I ’ve met the thing before; It just reminded me—’t was all— And came my way no more. 胜利来得太迟了， 它被低低地送向冰冷的唇 那覆满寒霜的唇 已无法把它品尝。 那会是多么甜蜜， 哪怕只尝上一滴！ 难道上帝如此吝啬？ 把他餐桌上的食物摆得太高 我们只有踮起脚尖才能够到。 碎屑适合这样的小嘴， 樱桃适合知更鸟； 雄鹰金色的早餐 只会把它们噎住。 上帝向麻雀信守着诺言， 那些没人抚爱的麻雀 懂得如何挨过饥饿！ VICTORY comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost To take it. How sweet it would have tasted, Just a drop! Was God so economical? His table’s spread too high for us Unless we dine on tip-toe. Crumbs fit such little mouths, Cherries suit robins; The eagle’s golden breakfast Strangles them. God keeps his oath to sparrows, Who of little love Know how to starve! 我把我的力量握在手中 去与整个世界战斗； 我的力量比不上大卫， 但我要比他勇敢两倍。 我瞄准了我的卵石，可是 倒下的只是我自己。 是歌利亚太大了， 还是我太小了？ I TOOK my power in my hand And went against the world; ’T was not so much as David had, But I was twice as bold. I aimed my pebble, but myself 5 Was all the one that fell. Was it Goliath was too large, Or only I too small? 我这些年一直在挨饿； 进餐的中午终于来到； 我，颤抖着，靠近桌子， 触摸那奇异的酒杯。 这就是我看见的一切， 当我转身，又饿又孤独， 我从窗户里望见 我无希望拥有的丰盛。 我不知道足够的面包， 它和我经常与鸟儿 在自然餐厅里分享的 面包屑截然不同。 这丰富伤害了我，它如此新鲜， 我感到不适和异常， 就像山间灌木上的浆果 被移植到了大路上。 我不再饥饿；于是我发现 饥饿是窗外人的感觉， 一旦入室， 即告消除。 I HAD been hungry all the years; My noon had come, to dine; I, trembling, drew the table near, And touched the curious wine. ’T was this on tables I had seen, When turning, hungry, lone, I looked in windows, for the wealth I could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread, ’T was so unlike the crumb The birds and I had often shared In Nature’s dining-room. The plenty hurt me, ’t was so new,— Myself felt ill and odd, As berry of a mountain bush Transplanted to the road. Nor was I hungry; so I found That hunger was a way Of persons outside windows, The entering takes away. 希望是一个诡秘的贪吃者， 他以美为生； 然而，就近去观察， 又是多么的节制！ 他坐在富足的桌边 那从来没人坐过的位子， 所有消耗掉的东西 都有同样的数量剩下。 HOPE is a subtle glutton; He feeds upon the fair; And yet, inspected closely, What abstinence is there! His is the halcyon table That never seats but one, And whatsoever is consumed The same amounts remain. 天堂是我所不及的东西！ 如果树上的苹果， 毫无希望地悬挂着， 那对于我，就是“天堂”。 逡巡的云朵上的色彩， 严禁涉足的土地 在山冈后面，在房子后面， 就在那里找到了天堂！ HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me. The color on the cruising cloud, The interdicted ground Behind the hill, the house behind,— There Paradise is found! 有人说 一个词一经说出， 即告死亡。 我说它的生活 就在那一天 刚刚开始。 A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day. 我的生命在结束前已经结束过两次； 但它仍然在逗留，要瞧瞧 永恒是否会向我显现 第三次事件， 如此重大，难以设想， 就像那前两次的降临。 分离是我们所知道的天堂的一切， 也是我们对地狱的全部需要。 MY life closed twice before its close; It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me, So huge, so hopeless to conceive, As these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell. 没有一艘快船能像一本书 载我们游历异乡， 也没有一匹骏马比得上 一页欢腾的诗章。 这是穷苦人都能完成的旅行 没有通行税让他忧烦； 那运载灵魂的战车 是何等的节俭！ THERE is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take Without oppress of toll; How frugal is the chariot That bears a human soul! 谁没有在下面发现天堂 谁就会在上面错过它。 上帝的居所与我毗邻， 他的家具就是爱。 WHO has not found the heaven below Will fail of it above. God’s residence is next to mine, His furniture is love. 我有一枚金几尼； 被我失落在沙子里， 尽管它的数额微不足道， 尽管世上还有许多英镑， 但对我节俭的眼睛 它有如此的价值， 以至因为遍寻不见 我坐下来叹息。 我有一只深红色的知更鸟 经常整天唱歌， 但当树林染上颜色， 他，也飞走了。 时间带来了新的知更鸟， 它们的歌谣一模一样， 但是，为我丢失的行吟诗人 我守在家里不出去。 我在天空中有一颗星星； “普勒阿得斯”是它的名字， 当我不留意的时候， 它同样迷失了方向。 尽管天空挤满了星星， 所有的夜晚闪闪发亮， 我却丝毫不关心， 因为没有一颗是我的。 我的故事有寓意： 有一个朋友已失去 “普勒阿得斯”、知更鸟和金几尼 都是为它取的名字。 当这支伴着眼泪 唱出的悲伤曲， 在远离此地的国家 遇见负心人的眼睛， 但愿那深深的懊悔 攫住他的心灵， 但愿他在太阳下 永不会找到安慰。 I HAD a guinea golden; I lost it in the sand, And though the sum was simple, And pounds were in the land, Still had it such a value Unto my frugal eye, That when I could not find it I sat me down to sigh. I had a crimson robin Who sang full many a day, But when the woods were painted He, too, did fly away. Time brought me other robins,— Their ballads were the same,— Still for my missing troubadour I kept the “house at hame.” I had a star in heaven; One Pleiad was its name, And when I was not heeding It wandered from the same. And though the skies are crowded, And all the night ashine, I do not care about it, Since none of them are mine. My story has a moral: I have a missing friend,— Pleiad its name, and robin, And guinea in the sand,— And when this mournful ditty, Accompanied with tear, Shall meet the eye of traitor In country far from here, Grant that repentance solemn May seize upon his mind, And he no consolation Beneath the sun may find. 如果记忆就是遗忘， 那么我将不再记忆； 如果遗忘就是记忆， 我与遗忘多么接近。 如果思念就是快乐， 忧伤就是喜悦， 那些手指是多么欢欣 今天，采撷到了这些！ IF recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not; And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot! And if to miss were merry, And if to mourn were gay, How very blithe the fingers That gathered these to-day! 大脑比天空辽阔， 因为，把它们放在一起， 前者能轻松地 包容后者，还有你。 大脑比海洋更深， 因为，把它们比一比，蓝对蓝 前者能吸收后者， 像吊桶，也像海绵。 大脑和上帝重量一致， 因为，把它们称一称，磅对磅， 它们，如果有区别， 就像音节不同于音响。 THE BRAIN is wider than the sky, For, put them side by side, The one the other will include With ease, and you beside. The brain is deeper than the sea, For, hold them, blue to blue, The one the other will absorb, As sponges, buckets do. The brain is just the weight of God, For, lift them, pound for pound, And they will differ, if they do, As syllable from sound. 我从一个跳板向另一个跳板走去 如此缓慢，小心翼翼； 我感觉到头上的星星， 大海在我的脚边。 我只知道下一步 有可能就是我旅程的终点， 这使我的步态变得摇颤 有人却称之为经验。 I STEPPED from plank to plank So slow and cautiously; The stars about my head I felt, About my feet the sea. I knew not but the next Would be my final inch,— This gave me that precarious gait Some call experience. 活——真能算活—— 死——真能算死—— 微笑真能完整地 凭着对生人的信任 揭示出他的灵魂？ 真能离开熟悉的景色 前往人迹罕至的地点—— 真能在计划旅程时 心中全无疑惑—— 有人秉有这样的信任， 他在我们中间，但不是今天—— 我们见过船儿起航 却从没有航行过海湾！ Could live -- did live -- Could die -- did die -- Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not, To introduce his soul. Could go from scene familiar To an untraversed spot -- Could contemplate the journey With unpuzzled heart -- Such trust had one among us, Among us not today -- We who saw the launching Never sailed the Bay! 那样重大的损失一连两次， 都已在草皮下面。 两次我像个乞丐 站在上帝门前！ 天使——两次降临 补偿我的损失—— 夜贼！银行家——父亲！ 我再次沦入贫穷！ I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod. Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God! Angels -- twice descending Reimbursed my store -- Burglar! Banker -- Father! I am poor once more!
最后修改于 2016-10-28 18:47
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