当你老了,白发苍苍,睡意朦胧,
在炉前打盹,请取下这本诗篇,
慢慢吟诵,梦见你当年的双眼
那柔美的光芒与青幽的晕影;
多少人真情假意,爱过你的美丽,
爱过你欢乐而迷人的青春,
唯独一人爱你朝圣者的心,
爱你日益凋谢的脸上的哀戚;
当你佝偻着,在灼热的炉栅边,
你将轻轻诉说,带着一丝伤感:
逝去的爱,如今已步上高山,
在密密星群里埋藏它的赧颜。
(飞白译)
(飞白译)
The most moving lament:
When you are old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
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柯尔庄园的天鹅
树木披上了美丽的秋装,
林中的小径一片干燥,
在十月的暮色中,
流水把静谧的天空映照,
一块块石头中漾着水波,
游着五十九只天鹅。
自从我第一次数了它们,
十九度秋天已经消逝,
我还来不及细数一遍,就看到
它们一下子全部飞起.
大声拍打着它们的翅膀,
形成大而破辞的圆圈翱翔。
我凝视这些光彩夺目的天鹅,
此刻心中涌起一阵悲痛。
一切都变了,自从第一次在河边,
也正是暮色朦胧,
我听到天鹅在我头上鼓翼,
于是脚步就更为轻捷。
还没有疲倦,一对对情侣,
在冷冷的友好的河水中
前行或展翅飞入半空,
它们的心依然年轻,
不管它们上哪儿漂泊,它们
总是有着激情,还要赢得爱情。
现在它们在静谧的水面上浮游,
神秘莫测,美丽动人,
可有一天我醒来,它们已飞去。
哦它们会筑居于哪片芦苇丛、
哪一个池边、哪一块湖滨,
使人们悦目赏心?
(裘小龙译)
(裘小龙译)
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湖心岛茵尼斯弗利岛
我就要起身走了,到茵尼斯弗利岛,
造座小茅屋在那里,枝条编墙糊上泥;
我要养上一箱蜜蜂,种上九行豆角,
独住在蜂声嗡嗡的林间草地。
那儿安宁会降临我,安宁慢慢儿滴下来,
从晨的面纱滴落到蛐蛐歇唱的地方;
那儿半夜闪着微光,中午染着紫红光彩,
而黄昏织满了红雀的翅膀。
我就要起身走了,因为从早到晚从夜到朝
我听得湖水在不断地轻轻拍岸;
不论我站在马路上还是在灰色人行道,
总听得它在我心灵深处呼唤。
我就要起身走了,到茵尼斯弗利岛,
造座小茅屋在那里,枝条编墙糊上泥;
我要养上一箱蜜蜂,种上九行豆角,
独住在蜂声嗡嗡的林间草地。
那儿安宁会降临我,安宁慢慢儿滴下来,
从晨的面纱滴落到蛐蛐歇唱的地方;
那儿半夜闪着微光,中午染着紫红光彩,
而黄昏织满了红雀的翅膀。
我就要起身走了,因为从早到晚从夜到朝
我听得湖水在不断地轻轻拍岸;
不论我站在马路上还是在灰色人行道,
总听得它在我心灵深处呼唤。
(飞白译)
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
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寒冷的天穹
突然我看见寒冷的、为白嘴鸦愉悦的天穹
那似乎是冰在焚化,而又显现更多的冰,
因而想象力和心脏被驱赶得发了疯
以至这种或那种偶然的思绪都
突然不见了,只留下记忆,那理应过时的
伴以青春的热血,和很久以前被勾销的爱;
而我从所有感觉和理智中承担起全部责备,
直到我哭喊着、哆嗦着,来回地摇动
被光穿透。呵!当鬼魂开始复活
死床的混乱结束,它是否被赤裸裸地
遣送到道路上,如书上所说,被上苍的
不公正所打击,作为惩罚?
(王家新 译)
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(王家新 译)
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词语
不久前我还曾这样想,
“我亲爱的人怕是不能理解
我做了些什么,或将要做些什么
在这盲目、苦涩的土地上。”
而我对太阳的倦意日增
直到我的思想再次清彻,
记起我所做下的最好的
就是使事物简洁的努力;
那些年里我一次次哭喊:
“终于我亲爱的人理解了这一切
因为我已经进入我的力量,
而且词语听从了我的召唤”;
如果她那样做了谁可以说
那将从滤网中筛下的是什么?
我也许会把可怜的词语扔开
而满足于去生活。
(王家新 译)
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(王家新 译)
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长脚蚊
为了免使文明沉沦,
大战落败,
叫狗别吵,拴好小马,
拴在远处柱子上;
我们主将凯撒在帐中,
地图在他面前摊开,
双眼木然,一手支颔。
如长脚蚊在河流上飞翔,
他的思维在寂静中滑动。
为了火焚高入云霄的城楼,
让男人追忆那张脸孔,
脚步放轻,如果你非得走动,
在这孤寂之地。
一分妇人,三分小童,她以为
没人看见;双脚练习
街上学来的
吉普赛舞步。
如长脚蚊在河流上飞翔,
她的思想在寂静中滑动。
为了使青春少女找到
她们心中的第一个亚当,
关上教皇的教堂大门,
别让那些小孩进来。
在那鹰架上斜躺着
米开朗基罗。
轻轻地,比老鼠还轻,
他的手来回转动。
如长脚蚊在河流上飞翔,
他的思想在寂静中滑动。
(周英雄 译)
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(周英雄 译)
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白鸟
亲爱的,但愿我们是浪尖上一双白鸟!
流星尚未陨逝,我们已厌倦了它的闪耀;
天边低悬,晨光里那颗蓝星的幽光
唤醒了你我心中,一缕不死的忧伤。
露湿的百合、玫瑰梦里逸出一丝困倦;
呵,亲爱的,可别梦那流星的闪耀,
也别梦那蓝星的幽光在滴露中低徊:
但愿我们化作浪尖上的白鸟:我和你!
我心头萦绕着无数岛屿和丹南湖滨,
在那里岁月会以遗忘我们,悲哀不再来临;
转瞬就会远离玫瑰、百合和星光的侵蚀,
只要我们是双白鸟,亲爱的,出没在浪花里!
(傅浩 译)
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(傅浩 译)
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致他的心,叫它别害怕
静一静,静一静,颤栗的心;
且记住古时的智慧:
让巨风、大火和洪水
掩藏起那个人,他面对
刮过星群的狂风,
大火洪水而颤栗,因他
不属于孤寂、雄伟的一群。
(袁可嘉 译)
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(袁可嘉 译)
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箭
我想到你的美,而这支箭
由狂想构成,落在我骨髓间。
没哪个男人敢看她,没有人,
当她刚成长为一个女人
颀长而崇高,脸和胸膛
色泽柔和如苹果花一样。
这种美更善良,但我有道理
哀哭那昔日之美的谢去。
(袁可嘉 译)
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(袁可嘉 译)
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印度人的恋歌
海岛在晨光中酣睡,
硕大的树枝滴沥着静谧;
孔雀起舞在柔滑的草坪,
一只鹦鹉在枝头摇颤,
向着如镜的海面上自己的身影怒叫。
在这里我们要系泊孤寂的船,
手挽着手永远地漫游,
唇对着唇喃喃地诉说,
沿着草丛,沿着沙丘,
诉说那不平静的土地多么遥远:
世俗中唯独我们两人
是怎样远远藏匿在宁静的树下,
我们的爱情长成一颗印度的明星,
一颗燃烧的心的流火,
那心里有粼粼的海潮,疾闪的翅膀,
沉重的枝干,和哀叹百日的
那羽毛善良的野鸽:
我们死后,灵魂将怎样漂泊,
那时,黄昏的寂静笼罩住天空,
海水困倦的磷光反照着模糊的脚印。
(邵义 译)
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(邵义 译)
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随时间而来的真理
虽然枝条很多,根却只有一条;
穿过我青春的所有说谎的日子
我在阳光下抖掉我的枝叶和花朵;
现在我可以枯萎而进入真理。
(沈睿 译)
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(沈睿 译)
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人随岁月长进
我因梦想而憔悴,
风雨吹打,一座溪流中的
大理石雕出的海神;
而整日里我都在看着
这位女士的美貌
仿佛我在一本书中找到的
一种画出的美,
我欣悦于眼睛的充实
或耳朵的聪敏,
欣悦于变得智慧,
因为人随着岁月长进;
但是,但是,
这是我的梦境,还是真实?
呵,真愿我们曾相遇
在我拥有燃烧的青春之时!
但我已在梦想中老去
风雨吹打,一座溪流中的
大理石雕出的海神。
(沈睿 译)
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(沈睿 译)
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思想的气球
双手,依照给你的吩咐去做;
牵引着思想的气球
膨胀并且飘曳在风中
抵达它狭隘的棚屋。
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我的书本去的地方
我所学到的所有言语,
我所写出的所有言语,
必然要展翅,不倦地飞行,
决不会在飞行中停一停,
一直飞到你悲伤的心所在的地方,
在夜色中向着你歌唱,
远方,河水正在流淌,
乌云密布,或是灿烂星光。
(裘小龙 译)
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乌云密布,或是灿烂星光。
(裘小龙 译)
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秘密的玫瑰
遥远的、秘密的、不可侵犯的玫瑰呵,
你在我关键的时刻拥抱我吧;那儿,
这些在圣墓中或者在酒车中,
寻找你的人,在挫败的梦的骚动
和混乱之外生活着:深深地
在苍白的眼睑中,睡意慵懒而沉重,
人们称之为美。你巨大的叶子覆盖
古人的胡须,光荣的三圣人献来的
红宝石和金子,那个亲眼看到
钉穿了的手和接骨木十字架的皇帝
在德鲁德的幻想中站起,使火炬黯淡,
最后从疯狂中醒来,死去;还有他,他曾遇见
范德在燃烧的露水中走向远方,
走在风中从来吹不到的灰色海岸上,
他在一吻之下丢掉了爱玛和天下;
还有他,他曾把神祗从要塞里驱赶出来,
最后一百个早晨开花,姹紫嫣红,
他饱赏美景,又痛哭着埋他死去的人的坟;
那个骄傲的、做着梦的皇帝,把王冠
和悲伤抛开,把森林中那些酒渍斑斑的
流浪者中间的诗人和小丑叫来,
他曾卖了耕田、房屋和日用品,
多少年来,他在岸上和岛上找寻,
最后他终于找到了,又是哭又是笑,
一个光彩如此夺目的女娃,
午夜,人们用一绺头发把稻谷打——一
小绺偷来的头发。我也等待着
飓风般的热爱与痛恨的时刻。
什么时候,星星在天空中被吹得四散,
象铁匠店里冒出的火星,然后暗淡,
显然你的时刻已经到来,你的飙风猛刮
遥远的、最秘密的、无可侵犯的玫瑰花?
(裘小龙 译)
(裘小龙 译)
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The Sorrow of Love
The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.
And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the world's tears,
And all the sorrows of her labouring ships,
And all the burden of her myriad years.
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,
The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,
And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves
Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.
And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the world's tears,
And all the sorrows of her labouring ships,
And all the burden of her myriad years.
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,
The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,
And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves
Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.
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The Stolen Child
Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scare could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scare could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.
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Leda and the Swan
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?

4 条评论:
关于诗我还是只希望爱情与风景,那些武功歌,宗教诗,叙事诗我都不喜欢>_<
这里基本上只会有爱情与风景。同好:)
hi:)
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豆瓣秀
http://www.douban.com/service/badgemaker
选择采用flash显示豆瓣秀
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添加音乐可以参照
http://www.douban.com/group/topic/5193253/
侧边栏或日志一个效果
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谢谢:)
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