英美文学中经典诗歌翻译

　　To Helen——Edgar Allan Poe

　　Helen， thy beauty is to me

　　Like those Nicean barks of yore，

　　That gently， o'er a perfumed sea，

　　The weary， way-worn wanderer bore

　　To his own native shore.

　　On desperate seas long wont to roam，

　　Thy hyacinth hair， thy classic face，

　　Thy Naiad airs have brought me home

　　To the glory that was Greece.

　　And the grandeur that was Rome.

　　Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche

　　How statue-like I see thee stand!

　　The agate lamp within thy hand，

　　Ah! Psyche from the regions which

　　Are Holy Land!

　　海倫，我視你的美貌

　　如昔日尼西的小船

　　于芬芳的海上輕輕漂泛

　　疲憊勞累的遊子

　　轉舵駛向故鄉的岸

　　久經海上風浪，慣于浪跡天涯

　　海倫，你的艷麗面容，你那紫藍的秀髮

　　你那仙女般的丰采令我深信

　　光榮屬於希臘

　　偉大屬於羅馬

　　看呀,在遠遠明亮的壁窗裏

　　你站立著,如同一尊雕塑

　　手上提著一盞光亮的明燈

　　塞姬女神啊,那些神聖的土地

　　才是你的宿地

　　She Walks In Beauty—— George Gordon Byron

　　She walks in beauty,

　　like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

　　And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

　　Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

　　One shade more, one ray less,

　　Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress,

　　Or softly lightens o’er her face;

　　Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

　　And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm,

　　yet eloquent The smiles that win, the tints that glow.

　　But tell of days in goodness spent,

　　A mind at peace with all below,

　　A heart whose love is innocent!

　　她在美中徜徉， 她在美中穿行;

　　象深邃的苍穹缀满繁星，

　　象皎洁的夜空万里无云。

　　明和暗多么协调，

　　深与浅恰如其分;

　　白昼的光线过于炫耀，

　　柔和的夜色最为温馨。

　　美汇入她的举止，

　　美溶进她的眼神; 美在乌黑的发际游弋，

　　美在灿烂的脸上逡巡。

　　不多一丝辉光，

　　不少半点柔阴;

　　包容的思绪弥足珍贵，

　　潜藏的心灵更加香醇;

　　在面颊，在眉宇， 无言胜似有声;

　　那里可以体察心绪的平静， 那里可以领会情感的温存。

　　那折服人心的微笑，

　　那淡淡泛起的红晕，

　　诉说着度过的优雅时光， 透露出沉积的善良品性。

　　人间万事平心以待， 恰似美的天神;

　　一颗心装着至爱， 一颗心永远真纯。

　　To a Waterfowl——William Cullen Bryant

　　Whither, midst falling dew,

　　While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,

　　Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue

　　Thy solitary way?

　　Vainly the fowler's eye

　　Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,

　　As, darkly seen against the crimson sky,

　　Thy figure floats along.

　　Seek'st thou the plashy brink

　　Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,

　　Or where the rocking billows rise and sink

　　On the chafed ocean-side?

　　There is a Power whose care

　　Teaches thy way along that pathless coast

　　The desert and illimitable air

　　Lone wandering, but not lost.

　　All day thy wings have fanned,

　　At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere,

　　Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,

　　Though the dark night is near.

　　And soon that toil shall end;

　　Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest,

　　And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend,

　　Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest.

　　Thou 'rt gone, the abyss of heaven

　　Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart

　　Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,

　　And shall not soon depart.

　　He who, from zone to zone,

　　Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,

　　In the long way that I must tread alone,

　　Will lead my steps aright.

　　威廉•库伦•布莱恩特《致水鸟》

　　你要去往何方?露珠正在坠落，

　　天穹闪耀着白昼最后的脚步，

　　远远地，穿过玫瑰色的深处，

　　你求索着孤独的道路。

　　也许，猎鸟者的眼睛

　　徒劳地看着你远飞，想要伤害你，

　　当红色的天空衬着你的身影，

　　你飘摇而去。

　　你想要飞往何处?

　　要寻觅杂草丛生、潮湿的湖岸?

　　大河的边沿，还是磨损的海滩?

　　那里有动荡的巨浪起起落落

　　有一种力量关照着你，

　　教导你在无路的海滨，

　　荒漠和浩淼的长空，

　　独自漫游，不会迷失。

　　你整天拍打着翅膀，

　　扇着远天那寒冷的稀薄大气，

　　尽管黑夜已靠近，你已疲惫

　　也不肯屈尊降落安全的大地。

　　不久那折磨就会结束;

　　不久你就会找到夏天的家，歇下，

　　在同伴间欢叫;不久

　　芦苇将弯下，在你隐蔽的巢上。

　　你消失了，天空的深渊

　　吞噬了你的身影;但在我心上

　　已深深留下你教给我的一课，

　　它不会很快遗忘。

　　谁引导你穿过无垠的天空，

　　从一个领域到另一个领域，

　　也会在我必须独自跋涉的长途上，

　　正确地引导我的脚步。

　　The Raven

　　Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weakry.

　　Over many a quint and curious volume of forgotten lore.

　　While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

　　As of some one rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

　　"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--

　　Only this, and nothing more."

　　Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

　　And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

　　Eagerly I wished the morrow; -vainly I had tried to borrow

　　From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-

　　For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-

　　Nameless here for evermore

　　And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

　　Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

　　So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

　　" ' Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-

　　Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-

　　This it is and nothing more.

　　Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

　　"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

　　But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

　　And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

　　That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door;

　　Darkness there, and nothing more.

　　Deep into that: darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing

　　Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

　　But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

　　And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"

　　This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, " Lenore! "

　　Merely this, and nothing more.

　　Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

　　Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before.

　　"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

　　Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-

　　Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;

　　'Tis the wind, and nothing more!

　　Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter.

　　In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;

　　Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;

　　But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-

　　Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-

　　Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

　　Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

　　By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

　　"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,

　　Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-

　　Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night ' s Plutonian shore! "

　　Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. "

　　Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

　　Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy hore;

　　For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being

　　Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-

　　Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above I us chamber door,

　　With such mime as "Nevermore.

　　But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only