声明：本书为八零电子书(txt80.cc)的用户上传至本站的存储空间，本站只提供TXT全集电子书存储服务以及免费下载服务，以下作品内容之版权与本站无任何关系。 ---------------------------用户上传之内容开始-------------------------------- 爱伦·坡诗选 作者：爱伦·坡 内容简介 《爱伦坡诗选》以奎恩教授编注的《爱伦坡集：诗歌与小说》（Poe: Poetry and Tales）为底本，选取了爱伦坡的数十首诗歌。本诗选由翻译家曹明伦翻译，译文优美、精良，是一本文学性和可读性都很强的书。 意切情深信达雅序《英诗经典名家名译》 上小学前，爷爷就教导我要爱劳动，爱念诗。“劳动”是让我拾粪、浇菜、割驴草……“诗”是学念他一生中读过的唯一“诗集”《三字经》中的“人之初，性本善”等。我还算听话，常下地帮着干零活，偶尔也念诗。上中学后喜出望外地得知，最早的诗歌便是俺乡下人干重活时有意无意发出的“哎哟、哎哟”之类的号子声。老师说，这是鲁迅先生发现的。后来糊里糊涂考进北大，便懵懵懂懂向冯至、李赋宁、闻家驷等老师学习一些欧洲国家的诗歌。 大约十二天前，我正准备出访东欧和中亚时，北大、北外、党校三重校友兼教育部副部长郝平指示我为外语教学与研究出版社即将付印的《英诗经典名家名译》写篇序言。基于上述背景，我竟不自量力，欣欣然应允，飞机起飞不久就边拜读边写体会了。 一看目录，我在万米高空立即激动不已。译者全是令我肃然起敬又感到亲切的名字。 冰心是我初中时代的“作家奶奶”，我工作后曾专门找借口去拜访她在福建的故居。袁可嘉半个世纪前应邀从南大到北大讲英国文学史，我是自己搬着凳子硬挤进去旁听的幸运学生之一。王佐良先生是我读研究生时教授英国诗歌的。同学们爱听他的课，他大段引用原文从不看讲稿，我们常觉得他的汉语译文会比原文更精彩……穆旦、屠岸、江枫、杨德豫等我未曾有幸当面请教，从他们的作品中却受益良多，感激恨晚。 前辈翻译家们追求“信、达、雅”。落实这“三字经”却并非易事。 第一，在丰富多彩、良莠不齐的英文诗林中，译者要有足够高的先进理念和真知灼见去发现和选择思想水平高的作品。国产千里马尚需伯乐去认同，意识形态领域里的诗就更需要了。看诗的高下、文野，境界和情感永远是最重要的因素。我国《诗经》历久不衰，首先因为里面有“硕鼠，硕鼠，无食我黍！”这样政治上合民心的诗句，有“关关雎鸠，在河之洲……”这样传递真情的佳句。这套诗集选了许多跨世纪思想性极强的好诗。如雪莱《普罗米修斯的解放》中的警句：“国王、教士与政客们摧毁了人类之花，当它还只是柔嫩的蓓蕾……”今天读起来仍发人深省。如莎士比亚在其第107号十四行诗中将和平与橄榄树的葱郁有机相连，上承两千多年前中国先哲“和为贵”的真谛，下接联合国大会此时此刻的紧急议题。这样的诗自然有人爱，有人信。 第二，诗源于生活。诗作者和译者都最好与百姓血肉相连。马克思曾与诗友调侃：诗人也得吃饭，别奢望写诗写饿了上帝会把盛着面包的篮子从天堂递下来。这套诗选中有许多生活气息浓醇、情意真切的诗。如出身佃农的彭斯在18世纪法国大革命后写的政治讽刺诗：“我赞美主的威力无边！主将千万人丢在黑暗的深渊……”，“……阔人们日子过得真舒泰，穷人们活得比鬼还要坏！”，“……有的书从头到尾都是谎言，有的大谎还没有见于笔端。”写实和预言都相当准确。 第三，译文要忠实于原作，自身又要通畅、简洁、优美。这套诗集中，英文原作都是名符其实的经典。读诗最好读原文，但世界上大约有三千种语言，一个人会用来读诗的语言肯定少得可怜。为开阔视野、加强交流、增进友谊，读外国诗大多还得靠翻译。这套诗选中的译者都治学严谨，都酷爱祖国和外国优秀文化，译文是他们辛勤劳动的杰出成果。他们把拜伦的奔放、纪伯伦的靓丽、济慈的端庄、布莱克的纯真、华兹华斯的素净、叶芝的淡定、狄金森和弗罗斯特的质朴译得惟妙惟肖。读这样的译作，哲学上可受启迪，美学上可得滋润。这有益于读者的身心健康，能满足青年学生的好奇心和求知欲，也能为有关专家的进一步研讨提供方便。 不妨说，这套诗集中外皆宜，老少咸宜，会书中两种语文或其中一种的人皆宜。 李肇星 2011年9月14日至25日自乌兰巴托（意为“红色勇士”）上空经莫斯科、明斯克（“交易地”）、塔什干（“石头城”）飞阿拉木图（“苹果城”）途中。 诗人爱伦·坡和他的诗《爱伦·坡诗选》中译本序 爱伦·坡（Edgar Allan Poe, 1809—1849）被世人尊为侦探小说的鼻祖、科幻小说的先驱和恐怖小说大师，但他的文学生涯却是始于诗歌并终于诗歌，而且他也首先把自己视为一名诗人。他一生共出版了4本诗集，它们是《帖木儿及其他诗》（1827）、《阿尔阿拉夫、帖木儿及小诗》（1829）、《诗集》（1831）和《乌鸦及其他诗》（1845）。 《帖木儿及其他诗》于1827年5月在波士顿匿名出版，扉页上的作者署名为“一个波士顿人”。这本薄薄的诗集只有40页，收诗10首，印数大约是50册，售价为12美分半。值得一提的是，这册在当时几乎无人问津的小书如今已成了美国文库中的瑰宝，虽“维基百科”称“人们相信该书1827年首版有12册留存于世”，但世人确知其所在的却只有4册，其中一册在1919年的拍卖价就已达1.1万美元。 爱伦·坡在《帖木儿及其他诗》的序言中说：“构成这本小书的大部分诗都写于1821年至1822年间，当时作者还是个未满14岁的少年……这名少年对世界尚一无所知。诗只能出自他的心底。”严格说来，这本诗集中的10首诗只是爱伦·坡的习作，但这些“出自心底”的习作翻开了爱伦·坡人生体验的序章，在内容上已表现出诗人对生命意义的关切和探求，在形式上已显露出了他那种具有梦幻般节奏的艺术特色。书名篇《帖木儿》欲揭示对世俗功名的追求到头来终将是虚幻。《梦》和《模仿》痛惜美好的童年像梦境一样消逝。《金星》和《湖》表现了少年诗人的孤独和孤傲。而在《亡灵》一诗中，爱伦·坡似乎已开始在暗示死亡乃美之永恒或者是《梦》中所说的“永恒之光”。对这本只有40页的小书，令译者不解的是扉页上的题记，因这则题记引用的是库珀的两行诗：“年轻人头脑易发热，心儿易激动，／总爱犯下错误等成年时改正。”（Young heads are giddy, and young hearts are warm, / And make mistakes for manhood to reform.）虽说这则题记可牵强附会地解释为帖木儿为了王冠而牺牲了爱情，但总观全书内容，更贴切的题记似乎应是爱伦·坡22年后写出的两行诗：“我们所见或似见的一切／都不过是一场梦中之梦。”（《梦中之梦》） 《阿尔阿拉夫、帖木儿及小诗》于1829年在巴尔的摩出版，收诗12首，其中5首为《帖木儿及其他诗》中旧作的修订稿，如《帖木儿》一诗由原来的400余行缩写为243行。书名篇《阿尔阿拉夫》可以说是一则寓言或一种象征。爱伦·坡在这首长422行的诗中继续着他对生存与死亡、现实与梦幻的思考。阿拉阿尔夫（Al Aaraaf）是阿拉伯神话中一个既非天堂亦非地狱的灵魂寓所，但在爱伦·坡的想象中，这个寓所成了16世纪丹麦天文学家第谷·布拉赫曾观察到的一颗行星，成了上帝派来接获释灵魂的“天国大漠旷野里的一块绿洲”，那儿“没有我们世界的浮沫沉渣，有的全都是美人，全都是鲜花”。此集中的《梦境》等短诗似乎也都在重复或深化前一本诗集的主题。在这些诗中，爱伦·坡继续用他独特的意象和象征表现他独特的人生体验：精神之孤独、对自我的逃避、对死亡的预见以及对理想之美的渴望。这种体验当然超越了他的时代，故当时批评家多以为他的诗不过是诗人青春期的梦呓。但令人遗憾的是，在一百多年后的中国，还有学者撰文说这些诗有“不知所云的朦胧倾向”，并认为这种倾向是由于爱伦·坡“颓废的心理”、“扭曲的灵魂”、“病态的大脑”和“消极反动的世界观”所致。其实在一百多年后的今天，解读和欣赏爱伦·坡这些诗已不再困难，因为存在主义作家们早已把孤独、死亡和逃避自我阐释得淋漓尽致，波德莱尔们也早已把爱伦·坡的表现手法发展成了象征主义。 《诗集》于1831年4月在纽约出版。爱伦·坡在序言中首次为诗下了个定义。他说： 依我之见，诗与科学论文的不同之处在于诗的直接目的是获得快感，而不是求得真理；诗与小说的不同之处在于诗的目的是获得含混的快感，而不是明确的快感。只有达到了这个目的才算是诗。小说赋予可感知的意象以明确的情绪，而诗所赋予的是不明确的情绪。要使意象给人的感觉不确定，音乐就成了必不可少的要素。因为我们对音乐的理解是一种不确定的概念。音乐与给人以快感的思想结合便是诗。没有思想的音乐仅仅是音乐，没有音乐的思想则是散文，因为它的情绪是明确的。 虽说爱伦·坡后来为诗下的定义更为精练，如“诗之所以是诗，仅仅是因为它可在启迪心灵的同时对其施予强烈的刺激”，再如“诗是有韵律的美之创造”，但《诗集》序言中的这则定义与他自己的诗作最为相称，因为在现代诗人中，少有人像他那样写诗时“既用眼睛又用耳朵”。这本集子里的《致海伦》、《以色拉费》、《海中之城》、《睡美人》、《丽诺尔》和《不安的山谷》等新作都是音乐与思想结合的典范。《致海伦》只有3节，每节5行，形式精巧，音韵和谐，恰如其分地表现了那位“精疲力竭的流浪者”因发现了“理想之美”而感到的平静。《睡美人》舒缓的节奏使爱伦·坡那种梦幻曲的音律和超自然的气息更为水乳交融，使读者似乎也觉得香消玉殒的伊蕾娜是在沉睡。在《不安的山谷》和《海中之城》中，诗人抽象的理念完全渗入了具体的意象，无论是在无名荒冢间摇曳落泪的百合花，还是苍昊之下那汪忧郁凄清的海水，都会把读者引入诗人对死亡与毁灭的冥想和体验。 《乌鸦及其他诗》出版于1845年11月，距《诗集》出版整整14年。爱伦·坡在该书序言中对此作了一番解释。他说： 一些没法控制的事使我一直不能在任何时候都全身心地投入诗歌创作，而如果幸运的话，这本应该成为我终生选择的领域。对我而言，诗并非一个目的，而是一种激情。这种激情应该受到尊重，它不应该而且也不可能为了人们微不足道的报偿或更微不足道的赞赏而被随意唤起。 爱伦·坡在这14年间写诗不多，却从未停止过对其原有诗作的修改，所以收在他第四本诗集中的29首诗都是精心之作（另外该集还收入了诗剧《波利希安》5个选场）。书名篇《乌鸦》可谓爱伦·坡诗歌理论乃至文学理念最全面的体现，其主题是他认为最富诗意的“美女之夭亡和失美之哀伤”。为了效果的统一性，他只写了108行；为了格律的独创性，他配置了一种前人未尝试过的诗节；为了情节的复杂性，他故意让主人公一开始把乌鸦翅膀拍窗的声音误认为是敲门声；为了艺术作品的暗示性，他设计了一个字词不变，但寓意却不断变化的叠句——“永不复焉”。按照他在《创作哲学》末段中的说法，读者读到全诗最后两节便会“开始把乌鸦视为一种象征，不过要到最后一节的最后一行，读者才能弄清这象征的确切含义——乌鸦所象征的是绵绵而无绝期的伤逝（emblematical of Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance）”。 有必要指出的是，由于某些中国学者的误读误释，不少中国读者以为爱伦·坡这只乌鸦象征死亡，认为乌鸦“在诗中其实就是捉摸不定的鬼魂”，是“突簌而至的无常”，是“魔鬼的化身”。爱伦·坡若闻此论，不知会作何感想？但愿他能理解“诗无达诂”之含义。 在生命的最后几年，爱伦·坡又唤起了他所尊重的那种“激情”，接二连三地写出了《尤娜路姆》、《钟声》、《黄金国》和《安娜贝尔·李》等十余首诗。《尤娜路姆》和《安娜贝尔·李》仍以美女夭亡为主题，但这次诗人哀悼的是他的亡妻弗吉尼亚。《黄金国》表现了诗人对“理想”终生追求、至死不渝的信念。《钟声》一诗似乎是他对自己一生的回顾：丁丁锳锳的银钟（雪橇之银亚）欢快悦耳，可惜只有14行；铮铮鏦鏦的金钟（喜钟）其乐融融，不过也只有21行；当当啷啷的铜钟（警钟）延续了34行，凄厉刺耳的钟声好像无处不在；幽幽咽咽的铁钟（丧钟）长达43行，哀婉忧郁的钟声似乎永不停息。爱伦·坡回顾自己的一生时当然也想到了芸芸众生的命运，因为认真读过《钟声》的读者往往都会想到一个海明威式的问题：那幽幽咽咽的丧钟为谁而鸣？ 曹明伦 2013年春于四川大学 译者附加说明： 1．本诗选所据原诗出自美国韦尔斯利学院奎恩教授（Patrick F. Quinn，1919—1999）编注的《爱伦·坡集：诗歌与小说》（Poe: Poetry and Tales, New York: Literary Classics of the United States, Inc., 1984），酌情参考了其他版本。 2．除注释中有说明之外，标于每首诗后的年份表示发表年份，而非写作年份。 3．本书的脚注有4种：1）爱伦·坡自己的注释未署名者用“——原注”标示（已有署名者保持原署名）；2）奎恩教授的注释用“——编者注”标示；3）译者的注释用“——译者注”标示；4）在需要对“原注”或“编者注”加以说明的地方插入或增加“（【译者按】……）”标示。 O, Tempora! O, Mores! O, Times! O, Manners! It is my opinion That you are changing sadly your dominion— I mean the reign of manners hath long ceased, For men have none at all, or bad at least; And as for times, altho' 'tis said by many The "good old times" were far the worst of any, Of which sound doctrine I believe each tittle, Yet still I think these worse than them a little. I've been a thinking—isn't that the phrase?— I like your Yankee words and Yankee ways— I've been a thinking, whether it were best To take things seriously, or all in jest; Whether, with grim Heraclitus of yore, To weep, as he did, till his eyes were sore; Or rather laugh with him, that queer philosopher, Democritus of Thrace, who used to toss over The page of life and grin at the dog-ears, As though he'd say, "Why, who the devil cares?" This is a question which, oh heaven, withdraw The luckless query from a member's claw! Instead of two sides, Job has nearly eight, Each fit to furnish forth four hours debate. What shall be done? I'll lay it on the table, And take the matter up when I'm more able; And, in the meantime, to prevent all bother, I'll neither laugh with one, nor cry with t'other, Nor deal in flatt'ry or aspersions foul, But, taking one by each hand, merely growl. Ah, growl, say you, my friend, and pray at what? Why, really, sir, I almost had forgot— But, damn it, sir, I deem it a disgrace That things should stare us boldly in the face, And daily strut the street with bows and scrapes, Who would be men by imitating apes. I beg your pardon, reader, for the oath The monkeys make me swear, though something loath; I'm apt to be discursive in my style, But pray be patient; yet a little while Will change me, and as politicians do, I'll mend my manners and my measures too. Of all the cities—and I've seen no few; For I have travelled, friend, as well as you— I don't remember one, upon my soul, But take it generally upon the whole, (As Members say they like their logick taken, Because divided, it may chance be shaken) So pat, agreeable and vastly proper As this for a neat, frisky counter-hopper; Here he may revel to his heart's content, Flounce like a fish in his own element, Toss back his fine curls from their forehead fair, And hop o'er counters with a Vester's air, Complete at night what he began A.M., And having cheated ladies, dance with them; For, at a ball, what fair one can escape The pretty little hand that sold her tape, Or who so cold, so callous to refuse The youth who cut the ribbon for her shoes! One of these fish, par excellence the beau— God help me!—it has been my lot to know, At least by sight, for I'm a timid man, And always keep from laughing, if I can; But speak to him, he'll make you such grimace, Lord! to be grave exceeds the power of face. The hearts of all the ladies are with him, Their bright eyes on his Tom and Jerry brim And dove-tailed coat, obtained at cost; while then Those eyes won't turn on anything like men. His very voice is musical delight, His form, once seen, becomes a part of sight; In short, his shirt collar, his look, his tone is The "beau ideal" fancied for Adonis. Philosophers have often held dispute As to the seat of thought in man and brute; For that the power of thought attends the latter My friend, the beau, hath made a settled matter, And spite of all dogmas, current in all ages, One settled fact is better than ten sages. For he does think, though I'm oft in doubt If I can tell exactly what about. Ah, yes! his little foot and ankle trim, 'Tis there the seat of reason lies in him, A wise philosopher would shake his head, He then, of course, must shake his foot instead. At me, in vengeance, shall that foot be shaken— Another proof of thought, I'm not mistaken— Because to his cat's eyes I hold a glass, And let him see himself, a proper ass! I think he'll take this likeness to himself, But if he won't, he shall, a stupid elf, And, lest the guessing throw the fool in fits, I close the portrait with the name of PITTS. (1827) 哦，时代！哦，风尚！① 哦，时代！哦，风尚！依我之见 你们正在可悲地改变你们的主权—— 我说风尚的流行早已是流水落花， 因人已没有风尚，或至少世风日下； 至于说时代，尽管许多人众口一词， 说“美好的往昔”是最糟的日子， 虽然我笃信这至理名言的每个字母， 可我仍认为今朝比往昔稍有不如。 我是一种思想——这难道不是格言？—— 我喜欢你的北方腔调和北方习惯—— 我是一种思想，不管怎样做最好， 是严肃对待人生，还是把人生当玩笑； 是学赫拉克利特，那个严厉的老翁，② 像他一样哭泣，直哭得两眼红肿； 还是跟着他笑，那个奇怪的哲人， 色雷斯的德谟克利特，笑对人生， 他常翻开人生之书，对着折页发笑， 仿佛要说“干吗，究竟有谁会在乎？”③ 哦，天啊，就是这一个问号， 把世人那个不幸的问题一笔勾销！ 不是两问，约伯几乎有八问，④ 每问都应该花上四小时来辩争。 那我该怎么办？先把问题搁一边， 待我有能力解答时再回过头来看； 而与此同时，我将避开一切烦扰， 既不跟着人哭，也不跟着人笑， 既不诬蔑诽谤，也不阿谀奉承， 而是一手拉一个，只是愤愤不平。 啊哈，我的朋友，你愤愤不平什么？ 哟，真的，先生，我几乎已忘却—— 可真该死，先生，我认为那真丢脸， 那些家伙竟厚颜无耻盯着咱们看， 终日在街头招摇，还不时点头哈腰， 那些家伙肯定是学人模样的活宝。 我请求读者原谅，原谅我出言不逊， 虽说不情愿，可那些猴子使我骂人； 我的作风很容易变得自由散漫， 但请稍安勿躁，只需一点点时间， 我就会像政客们一样摇身一变， 恢复我的风度举止和行为规范。 在所有的城市中——我见过不少人； 因为，朋友，我和你一样爱旅行—— 可现在我脑海中一个也想不起， 不过干脆就把他们视为一个整体， （就像有人喜欢他的逻辑保持囫囵， 因为一旦被分解，很可能一文不名） 如此恰当，如此相宜，如此方便， 把这整体比作一个精明活跃的老板，⑤ 在这世上他沉迷于他心灵的满足， 活蹦欢跳如鱼得水，如渴者逢甘露， 从优雅的额前把美丽的卷发向后一甩， 纵身跳过柜台，以大老板的气派， 在夜间来完成他上午开始的任务， 骗一个个夫人小姐与他翩翩共舞； 因为在舞场上哪位淑女能逃走， 从那双卖给她火酒的漂亮小手； 或谁会那么无情，竟忍心推辞， 撕绶带为她系鞋的年轻绅士！ 这些鱼中的一条，杰出的花花公子—— 愿上帝助我——我注定与他相识， 至少见过他，因为我生性害臊， 只要能够忍住，我总是忍住不笑； 但对他说话，他会对你扮个鬼脸， 主啊！那鬼脸的魅力超过了庄严。 所有女人的芳心都跟着他转悠， 她们明亮的眼中也溢满他的甜酒， 还有他那身价格昂贵的燕尾服， 除此之外她们对谁都不屑一顾。 他那悦耳的声音像音乐一样动听， 他那我曾见过的身躯已成为一景； 他的衣领、容貌、风度，总而言之， 就像是阿多尼，理想中美的极致。⑥ 哲学家们从来就争论不休， 何处是思想之寓所，于人于兽； 由于思想的力量伴随着后者， 我漂亮的朋友已把这问题解决， 虽说有无数定理世世代代流传， 但一个解决的问题胜过十个圣贤。 因为他就爱思想，尽管我常疑惑 是否我能说出他到底在想些什么。 啊，对啦！在想他的脚和脚踝， 对他来说那儿就是智慧的寓所， 一个睿智的哲学家只会摇头晃脑， 而他，则肯定会把脚甩得老高。 为了报复，那只脚将向我甩来—— 又一个思想的证明，我不会误解—— 因为我把镜子凑到他猫眼跟前， 让他照一照自己，一个十足的笨蛋！ 我想他会为自己把这幅肖像画成， 但如果他不画，他将是愚蠢的精灵， 而且，唯恐猜测惹得这傻瓜发脾气， 我来完成这幅肖像，以皮茨的名字。⑦ （1827） 注释 ①　原文为拉丁文，最初是古罗马政治家西塞罗在公元前70年控诉以权谋私、贪赃枉法的西西里总督威勒斯和在公元前63年揭露阴谋家喀提林的演说中的用语。现用作批评不良世风时的感叹语，有调侃讽刺的意味。爱伦·坡这首稚气的双行体讽刺诗是他幼时的习作。——译者注 ②　指那个认为“一切皆流，一切皆变”的古希腊哲学家赫拉克利特（约公元前540—约前480至约前470之间）。此处爱伦·坡将他与德谟克利特相对比，可能是认为他比后者更悲观，因为他抱怨世人大多缺乏理性。——译者注 ③　德谟克利特（约公元前460—约前370）认为幸福乃人生之目的，真正的幸福不在于感官享受而在于心灵宁静，具有理性者自然能达到幸福的境界。——译者注 ④　此行涉及约伯无罪受罚，与众友争辩并责问上帝的故事。见《旧约·约伯记》。——译者注 ⑤　老板一词原文是counter-hopper，系伦敦方言，指那些巧舌如簧、颇能蛊惑妇女的商店老板。——译者注 ⑥　阿多尼是希腊罗马神话传说中的美少年。——译者注 ⑦　这位不幸成为少年爱伦·坡调侃对象的皮茨是当时里士满一家时髦用品商店的店员，他曾追求里士满一个年轻美貌的女士，而该美女后来嫁给了一位州议会议员。——译者注 To Margaret Who hath seduced thee to this foul revolt (Milton Par. Lost. Bk. I) From the pure well of Beauty undefiled? (Somebody) So banished from true wisdom to prefer Such squalid wit to honourable rhyme? (Cowper's Task, Book I) To write? To scribble? Nonsense and no more? (Shakespeare) I will not write upon this argument (do. Troilus & Cressida) To write is human—not to write divine. (Pope Essay on Man) (1827) 致玛格丽特① 是谁把你诱向那肮脏的背叛（弥尔顿《失乐园》卷1） 从澄澈纯净的“美”的清泉？（某人） 就这样摈弃了真智，而宁肯 在高贵的诗中用卑劣的聪明？（库柏《任务》卷1） 去写？去涂？胡言乱语然后 收场？（莎士比亚） 我不会用我的笔写这场纷争（同上《特洛伊罗斯与克瑞西达》） 要写的是人——而不是神灵。（蒲柏《人论》） （1827） 注释 ①　此诗被写在爱伦·坡珍藏女友照片的相簿里，应该是一篇未完之作，在爱伦·坡生前未曾发表。——译者注 ＂To Octavia＂ When wit, and wine, and friends have met And laughter crowns the festive hour In vain I struggle to forget Still does my heart confess thy power And fondly turn to thee! But Octavia, do not strive to rob My heart, of all that soothes its pain The mournful hope that every throb Will make it break for thee! (1827) “致奥克塔维娅”① 当智慧、美酒、朋友们相逢 当朗朗笑声把欢乐时光充溢 我的试图忘却仍徒然落空 我的心仍在坦露你的魅力 依然深情地把你追随！ 但奥克塔维娅，千万别夺光 能减轻我心儿痛苦的一切 每一次搏动的悲哀的希望 都会使我心为你而破碎！ （1827） 注释 ①　这首诗和《致玛格丽特》一样也是写在爱伦·坡珍藏女友照片的相簿里，在爱伦·坡生前未曾发表，诗下面的落款日期是1827年5月1日。——译者注 Tamerlane Kind solace in a dying hour! Such, father, is not (now) my theme— I will not madly deem that power Of Earth may shrive me of the sin Unearthly pride hath revell'd in— I have no time to dote or dream: You call it hope—that fire of fire! It is but agony of desire: If I can hope—Oh God! I can— Its fount is holier—more divine— I would not call thee fool, old man, But such is not a gift of thine. Know thou the secret of a spirit Bow'd from its wild pride into shame. O yearning heart! I did inherit Thy withering portion with the fame, The searing glory which hath shone Amid the Jewels of my throne, Halo of Hell! and with a pain Not Hell shall make me fear again— O craving heart, for the lost flowers And sunshine of my summer hours! The undying voice of that dead time, With its interminable chime, Rings, in the spirit of a spell, Upon thy emptiness—a knell. I have not always been as now: The fever'd diadem on my brow I claim'd and won usurpingly—— Hath not the same fierce heirdom given Rome to the C?sar—this to me? The heritage of a kingly mind, And a proud spirit which hath striven Triumphantly with human kind. On mountain soil I first drew life: The mists of the Taglay have shed Nightly their dews upon my head, And, I believe, the winged strife And tumult of the headlong air Hath nestled in my very hair. So late from Heaven—that dew—it fell ('Mid dreams of an unholy night) Upon me with the touch of Hell, While the red flashing of the light From clouds that hung, like banners, o'er, Appeared to my half-closing eye The pageantry of monarchy, And the deep trumpet-thunder's roar Came hurriedly upon me, telling Of human battle, where my voice, My own voice, silly child!—was swelling (O! how my spirit would rejoice, And leap within me at the cry) The battle-cry of Victory! The rain came down upon my head Unshelter'd—and the heavy wind Rendered me mad and deaf and blind. It was but man, I thought, who shed Laurels upon me: and the rush— The torrent of the chilly air Gurgled within my ear the crush Of empires—with the captive's prayer— The hum of suitors—and the tone Of flattery 'round a sovereign's throne. My passions, from that hapless hour, Usurp'd a tyranny which men Have deem'd, since I have reach'd to power, My innate nature—be it so: But, father, there liv'd one who, then, Then—in my boyhood—when their fire Burn'd with a still intenser glow, (For passion must, with youth, expire) E'en then who knew this iron heart In woman's weakness had a part. I have no words—alas!—to tell The loveliness of loving well! Nor would I now attempt to trace The more than beauty of a face Whose lineaments, upon my mind, Are——shadows on th' unstable wind: Thus I remember having dwelt Some page of early lore upon, With loitering eye, till I have felt The letters—with their meaning—melt To fantasies—with none. O, she was worthy of all love! Love—as in infancy was mine— 'Twas such as angel minds above Might envy; her young heart the shrine On which my every hope and thought Were incense—then a goodly gift, For they were childish and upright— Pure——as her young example taught: Why did I leave it, and, adrift, Trust to the fire within, for light? We grew in age—and love—together— Roaming the forest, and the wild; My breast her shield in wintry weather— And, when the friendly sunshine smil'd, And she would mark the opening skies, I saw no Heaven—but in her eyes. Young Love's first lesson is——the heart: For 'mid that sunshine, and those smiles, When, from our little cares apart, And laughing at her girlish wiles, I'd throw me on her throbbing breast, And pour my spirit out in tears— There was no need to speak the rest— No need to quiet any fears Of her—who ask'd no reason why, But turn'd on me her quiet eye! Yet more than worthy of the love My spirit struggled with, and strove, When, on the mountain peak, alone, Ambition lent it a new tone— I had no being—but in thee: The world, and all it did contain In the earth—the air—the sea— Its joy—its little lot of pain That was new pleasure——the ideal, Dim, vanities of dreams by night— And dimmer nothings which were real— (Shadows—and a more shadowy light!) Parted upon their misty wings, And, so, confusedly, became Thine image and—a name—a name! Two separate—yet most intimate things. I was ambitious—have you known The passion, father? You have not: A cottager, I mark'd a throne Of half the world as all my own, And murmur'd at such lowly lot— But, just like any other dream, Upon the vapor of the dew My own had past, did not the beam Of beauty which did while it thro' The minute—the hour—the day—oppress My mind with double loveliness. We walk'd together on the crown Of a high mountain which look'd down Afar from its proud natural towers Of rock and forest, on the hills— The dwindled hills! begirt with bowers And shouting with a thousand rills. I spoke to her of power and pride, But mystically—in such guise That she might deem it nought beside The moment's converse; in her eyes I read, perhaps too carelessly— A mingled feeling with my own— The flush on her bright cheek, to me Seem'd to become a queenly throne Too well that I should let it be Light in the wilderness alone. I wrapp'd myself in grandeur then And donn'd a visionary crown—— Yet it was not that Fantasy Had thrown her mantle over me— But that, among the rabble—men, Lion ambition is chain'd down— And crouches to a keeper's hand— Not so in deserts where the grand— The wild—the terrible conspire With their own breath to fan his fire. Look 'round thee now on Samarcand!— Is she not queen of Earth? her pride Above all cities? in her hand Their destinies? in all beside Of glory which the world hath known Stands she not nobly and alone? Falling—her veriest stepping-stone Shall form the pedestal of a throne— And who her sovereign? Timour—he Whom the astonished people saw Striding o'er empires haughtily A diadem'd outlaw! O, human love! thou spirit given, On Earth, of all we hope in Heaven! Which fall'st into the soul like rain Upon the Siroc-wither'd plain, And, failing in thy power to bless, But leav'st the heart a wilderness! Idea! which bindest life around With music of so strange a sound And beauty of so wild a birth— Farewell! for I have won the Earth. When Hope, the eagle that tower'd, could see No cliff beyond him in the sky, His pinions were bent droopingly— And homeward turn'd his soften'd eye. 'Twas sunset: when the sun will part There comes a sullenness of heart To him who still would look upon The glory of the summer sun. That soul will hate the ev'ning mist So often lovely, and will list To the sound of the coming darkness (known To those whose spirits harken) as one1 Who, in a dream of night, would fly But cannot from a danger nigh. What tho' the moon—the white moon Shed all the splendor of her noon, Her smile is chilly—and her beam, In that time of dreariness, will seem (So like you gather in your breath) A portrait taken after death. And boyhood is a summer sun Whose waning is the dreariest one— For all we live to know is known And all we seek to keep hath flown— Let life, then, as the day-flower, fall With the noon-day beauty—which is all. I reach'd my home—my home no more— For all had flown who made it so. I pass'd from out its mossy door, And, tho' my tread was soft and low, A voice came from the threshold stone Of one whom I had earlier known— O, I defy thee, Hell, to show On beds of fire that burn below, A humbler heart—a deeper wo— Father, I firmly do believe— I know—for Death who comes for me From regions of the blest afar, Where there is nothing to deceive, Hath left his iron gate ajar, And rays of truth you cannot see Are flashing thro' Eternity— I do believe that Eblis hath A snare in every human path— Else how, when in the holy grove I wandered of the idol, Love, Who daily scents his snowy wings With incense of burnt offerings From the most unpolluted things, Whose pleasant bowers are yet so riven Above with trellic'd rays from Heaven No mote may shun—no tiniest fly— The light'ning of his eagle eye— How was it that Ambition crept, Unseen, amid the revels there, Till growing bold, he laughed and leapt In the tangles of Love's very hair? (1827) 帖木儿① 弥留之际听仁慈的安慰！ 不，神父，这不是我此刻的向往——② 我不会神志错乱地认为 人间的力量能赦免我的罪戾 我极度的骄傲一直耽溺于此—— 我没有时间昏愦或者梦想： 你称之为希望——那火中之火！ 它只不过是欲望的诱惑： 倘若我能希望——哦，上帝！我能—— 希望之源会更加圣洁——更加神圣—— 我不会说你是笨伯，神父老人， 但安慰不该是你给我的礼品。 你知晓一个人心中的隐秘， 那颗从倨傲陷入羞愧的心灵。 哦，热望的心！我曾承继 你赫赫有名的毁灭性的部分， 那正熄灭的光辉曾一直闪耀， 耀亮我王冠上镶饰的珠宝， 地狱之光！而有了这分痛苦， 地狱再也不能使我感到恐怖—— 哦，渴望的心，渴望失去的花， 渴望我其乐融融的青春年华！ 可大限之期的永恒之声， 伴着它永无终止的妙韵。 敲响，在一颗神志恍惚的心中， 盖过你的空话——敲响丧钟。 我并非从来就像现在这般： 为了头上这顶灼热的王冠 我曾南征北讨，曾东攘西夺—— 难道不是同样的凶悍的继承权 把罗马给了凯撒——把这给我？ 让我继承一颗帝王之心， 一个骄傲的灵魂连年征战， 与整个人类作对而战无不胜。 我曾在故乡的山地谋生： 靼格勒山的薄雾夜夜落降，③ 晶莹的水珠降到我头上， 而我相信，高山峻岭的风， 那风的纷乱，风的喧嚣 已在我头上筑起了窝巢。 后来从天庭——那雾珠——下落 （在一个不幸之夜的梦中） 带给我的却是地狱的触摸， 当时那团闪光，通红通红， 从像一面面旌旗飘荡的云层， 向我半闭半睁的眼睛展示 帝王的威严，皇家的华丽， 接着是号角声，沉闷如雷霆， ( 重要提示：如果书友们打不开t x t 8 0. c o m 老域名，可以通过访问t x t 8 0. c c 备用域名访问本站。 ) 传进我的耳朵，向我讲述 人类的战争，那儿我的声音， 我这天真少年的声音——正高呼 （哦！我的灵魂怎会喜不自禁， 扑向我心中那一声呐喊） 战斗的呐喊，胜利！凯旋！ 大雨哗哗浇在我的头顶 无遮无掩——还有那疾风 使我变得又狂又瞎又聋。 那定是人，我以为，是人 给我以荣誉：而那一阵阵—— 一阵阵凛冽的风狂雨骤 在我听来就犹如坍塌之声 从一个个帝国——伴着俘虏的哀求—— 求情者的阿谀——巴结者的谄媚 包围着一个至高无上的王位。 就从那一个不幸的夜晚， 我的激情变成了一种暴戾， 而自从我称孤道寡获得王权， 世人就一直以为我天性如此； 可是，神父，有个人，那时， 那时——在我童年——当生命之火 还熊熊燃烧，热情洋溢 （因为激情定与青春一道衰落）， 就是那时她知道这铁石心肠 也曾优柔寡断，儿女情长。 唉！——我难以用言辞述说 爱情有多么美妙，多么快活！ 我现在也不企图给你描绘 那张脸如何胜过人间之美； 她的容貌，在我的心里， 就像飘忽的风中变幻的影子： 现在想来我似乎一直在凝视， 凝视几页古老的金玉良言。 而我目光慵倦，直到我感知 那些字母——随着意义——渐渐消逝， 化为幻觉——伴着虚幻。 哦，她值得用整个心去爱！ 爱——就像我童年时那般—— 那是一种天使也羡慕的爱； 她年轻的心于我就是神龛， 我用每一分希望、每一缕思绪 敬香——便得到一份漂亮礼物， 因为他们天真、纯洁而高尚—— 就像她所树立的青春的范例： 那我为何要丢下爱去漂泊沉浮， 去迷恋那团火，去期待那道光？ 我俩青梅竹马——相爱——相亲 在森林漫步，在原野游荡； 我的胸膛便是她躲避风雨的盾—— 而当风和日丽，天清气爽， 她总爱凝望那澄湛的蓝天， 而我不看天——只看她美丽的眼。 初恋的第一课就是——那心： 因为当其乐融融，笑意璨璨， 且不说我们那不碍事的烦闷， 且不说讪笑她小姑娘的心眼， 当我一头扑进她悸跳的胸脯， 流着泪向她倾吐衷肠—— 我没有必要再把其他话倾诉—— 没有必要平息她的凄惶—— 她并不问我为何要如此这般， 只用她恬静的目光把我细看！ 可世上有种东西更值得一恋， 使我心欲爱不成，欲罢不甘。 当我伫立山顶，独自一人， 雄心便给我一种新的心境—— 我不再是个实体——而溶于你： 这世界，还有它包容的全部 在天空——在海洋——在陆地—— 它的欢乐，它不多的痛苦 这是新的乐趣——新的理想， 暗淡，夜里睡梦中的虚幻—— 更暗淡，那些实实在在的渺茫—— （朦影——一团更朦胧的光焰！） 展开它们虚无缥缈的翅翼， 就这样，混淆不清地，变成 你的形象——一个名称——一个名称！ 一分为二——但却最亲密。 我雄心勃勃，气凌霄汉—— 你可知这热望，神父？你不知： 我身居帐篷却觊觎一顶王冠， 把半个世界视为我自家财产， 我常为卑贱的命运鸣冤叫屈—— 可是就像别人的美梦一样， 我的梦想也曾如浮烟朝露， 但这道美丽的光却不消亡。 它时时伴随我，朝夕相处， 用它那双倍的可爱美丽， 使我如负重荷，心情压抑。 我俩曾漫步于高山之巅， 巍峨的高山把下界俯瞰， 从岩森林组成的自然之塔， 放眼可见远方的小山绵亘—— 山脚环绕着小屋白墙红瓦， 山间有无数小溪潺潺有声。 我对她讲起权势和荣耀， 可她的表情——不可思议， 或许她以为我胡说八道， 不过是信口开河的妄语； 从她眼中，也许漫不经心—— 一种悲喜交加被我窥见—— 她脸颊上泛起一阵红晕， 在我看来就像王后的凤冠， 唯一的光辉在这荒山野岭， 我无疑将把我的梦想实现。 于是我把自己裹得富丽堂皇， 并戴上一顶想象的王冠—— 但这并非因为幻想女神 把她的斗篷披在我身—— 而是因为在卑贱的穷人堆里成长， 雄狮被戴上了枷锁铁链—— 对一个看守人也卑躬屈膝—— 可在荒原大漠却不是如此， 高贵、凶悍与恐怖合谋筹措， 在荒漠煽起它心中的烈火。 现在放眼环顾撒马尔罕！——④ 她难道不是这世界的女王？ 她难道不比所有城市都壮观？ 它们的命运不就在她手上？ 加上她那举世瞩目的荣华， 她难道不高贵，独立天下？ 流传——她的每一块踏脚石 都将成为一代王朝的奠基—— 谁是她的主宰？帖木儿——是他， 惊愕骇然的人们曾经目睹 他骄傲地把一个个帝国横跨， 他，头戴皇冠的亡命之徒。 哦，爱情！你给予人间以生气， 给予我们希冀天堂赋予的东西！ 你浸入灵魂，润泽世人的心田 如春雨滋润被热风烤焦的平原； 而若是未能蒙受到你的恩泽， 心中只会留下一片旷漠荒野！ 哦，思想！你把生命缚得真牢， 用音乐，其声音如此奇妙 用美，其天性如此剽悍—— 再见吧！因为我已赢得了江山。 当希望，那翱翔的鹰，发现前方 再也没有可飞越的险峰峻岭， 它会无精打采地垂下翅膀—— 向故乡投去温柔眷恋的眼神。 日暮关山：当夕阳将离去， 它心头会涌上一丝愁绪， 因为它仍在寻求，仍在瞻望 那骄阳当空时的灿烂辉煌。 它会怨恨黄昏的云烟暮霭， 虽说流云飞霞常十分可爱， 它会听到夜幕降临的声音， （用心倾听者熟稔此情）⑤ 它就像在梦魇中虽能振翮， 但却无法飞离迫近的灾祸。 有月亮又怎样——白色的月亮 纵然溢下它全部皎洁的华光， 她的笑容惨然，色寒光冷—— 在那个凄清苍凉的时辰， （好像你倒抽一口凉气） 那月色只是一幅死人的肖像。 童年是人生最美好的日子， 童年的逝去最令人悲戚—— 因为我们想领略的都已领略， 而我们想珍藏的却早已幻灭—— 那就让生命，像那种白昼花，⑥ 枯萎凋谢，随着白天的芳华。 我回到家里——可人去楼空—— 使之为家的人已云散风流。 当我穿过长满苔藓的门洞， 尽管我的脚步十分轻柔， 一个声音从石头门槛传出， 这声音我过去曾非常稔熟—— 哦，地狱，我看你胆敢 展示你炼狱里的熊熊火焰， 对一颗更贱的心——一种更浓的愁。 神父，我确凿无疑地相信—— 我知道——因为向我走来的死神 从那个远离福地的地方， 在那儿人们将不再会失望 已经虚开他那道铁门， 而你看不见的真理的光芒 正透过永恒在闪闪发亮—— 我相信那个魔鬼早已经 在每条人生之路布下陷阱—— 还有，当在那神圣的山林， 我如何离开那尊偶像——爱神， 他每天熏他雪白的翅膀， 用焚烧祭品的伽南沉香， 香火都来自最净洁的地方， 那些可爱的屋顶都被撕开， 让天庭的光辉照射进来， 没有一丝浮灰、一点悬尘—— 能躲过他明察秋毫的眼睛—— 那野心的滋蔓，那纵酒狂欢 又如何能被他视而不见， 直到肆无忌惮，他含笑一纵 在爱神他蓬发的缠结之中？ （1827） 注释 ①　爱伦·坡发表过好几个不同文本的《帖木儿》，本书选用1845年修订稿，但以下一些注释选自爱伦·坡为1827初版所写的注解（所据版本为1829年版），这些注释有助于理解1845年版本的一些诗行。——编者注 ②　“神父”一词在更早的版本中为“圣徒”。“帖木儿的生平鲜为人知，这倒使我能充分发挥一个诗人的联想。——他很有可能真是成吉思汗的后裔——但一般认为他是一个牧民的儿子，是凭他自己的本领登上王位。他死于1405年，即教皇七世时代。我该如何解释给他一名“圣徒”来听他临终忏悔呢——我也说不清楚。他需要有人来听他的故事——干吗不能是一名圣徒呢？这种可能性并非完全不存在——这对我的目的就足够了——至少我对这种新说法有充分的根据。”（《帖木儿》1829年版第1行注）——编者注 ③　靼格勒山是Immaus山的支脉，在独立的鞑靼地区南部。这些山以其苍凉荒僻和山谷之美而著称。（《帖木儿》1829年版第39行注）——编者注 ④　帖木儿曾建都于撒马尔罕（今乌兹别克斯坦境内），使其一度成为艺术文化中心。——译者注 ⑤　“我常常觉得我能清晰地听见黑夜来临的声音，当它悄悄跨过地平线之时——这也许是一种愚蠢的幻觉，但这不会比看见音乐更不可理喻——如‘她脸上透出的思想和音乐’”（【译者按】这行诗出自拜伦的东方叙事诗《阿比多斯的新娘》第1章第6节The mind, the music breathing from her face）。（《帖木儿》1829年版第373行注）——编者注 ⑥　“有一种花俗称白昼花（我从不知道它植物学上的名称）。此花白天生机盎然，傍晚开始蔫谢，夜里则几乎完全枯萎。不过我在诗中忘了说，它清晨又会恢复生机。如果鞑靼地区无此花，那务必宽恕我把它带到那里。”（《帖木儿》1829年版第390行注）——编者注 Song I saw thee on thy bridal day— When a burning blush came o'er thee, Though happiness around thee lay, The world all love before thee: And in thine eye a kindling light (Whatever it might be) Was all on Earth my aching sight Of Loveliness could see. That blush, perhaps, was maiden shame— As such it well may pass— Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame In the breast of him, alas! Who saw thee on that bridal day, When that deep blush would come o'er thee, Though happiness around thee lay, The world all love before thee. (1827) 歌① 我看见你在你当新娘那天—— 当一团燃烧的红霞在你脸上泛起， 尽管天下之爱都在你眼前， 尽管洋洋喜气包围着你； 而你眼中一团光亮的闪现 （无论它包含着什么意思） 便是我这渴望美丽的双眼 在这世上所能看到的一切。 那红霞也许是少女的羞涩—— 它本身很快就会消失—— 尽管它的光已点燃一团烈火， 天啦，就在他的心里！ 他看见你在你当新娘那天， 当那团红霞总会在你脸上泛起， 尽管天下之爱都在你眼前， 尽管洋洋喜气包围着你。 （1827） 注释 ①　这首诗是爱伦·坡听说他的初恋情人莎拉·爱弥拉·罗伊斯特（Sarah Elmira Royster，1810—1888）结婚的消息后写的。爱伦·坡16岁时曾与爱弥拉私订终身，但两年后爱弥拉的父母将她嫁给了富裕的运输商亚历山大·谢尔顿（Alexander B. Shelton）。——译者注 Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awak'ning till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow: Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 'Twere better than the dull reality Of waking life, to him whose heart shall be, And hath been ever, on the chilly earth, A chaos of deep passion, from his birth! But should it be—that dream eternally Continuing—as dreams have been to me In my young boyhood—should it thus be given, 'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven! For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright In the summer sky; in dreamy fields of light, And left unheedingly my very heart In climes of mine imaginings—apart From mine own home, with beings that have been Of mine own thought—what more could I have seen? 'Twas once and only once and the wild hour From my remembrance shall not pass—some power Or spell had bound me—'twas the chilly wind Came o'er me in the night and left behind Its image on my spirit, or the moon Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon Too coldly—or the stars—howe'er it was That dream was as that night wind—let it pass. I have been happy, tho' but in a dream. I have been happy—and I love the theme— Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life— As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife Of semblance with reality which brings To the delirious eye more lovely things Of Paradise and Love—and all our own! Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known. (1827) 梦 呵！我的青春是一个长梦该有多好！ 愿我的灵魂长梦不醒，一直到 那永恒之光芒送来黎明的曙光； 不错！那长梦中也有忧伤和绝望， 可于他也胜过清醒生活的现实， 他的心，在这个清冷萧瑟的尘世， 从来就是并将是，自从他诞生， 一团纷乱混沌的强烈激情！ 但假若——那个永生延续的梦—— 像我有过的许多梦一样落空， 假若它与我儿时的梦一样命运， 那希冀高远的天国仍然太愚蠢！ 因为我一直沉迷于夏日的晴天， 因为我一直耽溺于白昼的梦幻， 并把我自己的心，不经意地 一直留在我想象中的地域—— 除了我的家，除了我的思索—— 我本来还能看见另外的什么？ 一次而且只有一次，那癫狂之时 将不会从我的记忆中消失—— 是某种力量或符咒把我镇住—— 是冰凉的风在夜里把我吹拂， 或是寒月冷光照耀我的睡梦—— 或是那些星星——但无论它是啥， 那梦如寒夜阴风——让它消失吧。 我一直很幸福——虽然只在梦里， 我一直很幸福——我爱梦的旋律—— 梦哟！在它们斑斓的色彩之中—— 仿佛置身于一场短暂朦胧的斗争， 与现实争斗，斗争为迷眼带来 伊甸乐园的一切美和一切爱—— 这爱与美都属于我们自己所有！ 美过青春希望所知，在它最快乐的时候。 （1827） Spirits of the Dead Ⅰ Thy soul shall find itself alone 'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone— Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy: Ⅱ Be silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness—for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee—and their will Shall overshadow thee: be still. Ⅲ The night—tho' clear—shall frown— And the stars shall look not down, From their high thrones in the heaven, With light like Hope to mortals given— But their red orbs, without beam, To thy weariness shall seem As a burning and a fever Which would cling to thee for ever. Ⅳ Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish—Now are visions ne'er to vanish— From thy spirit shall they pass No more—like dew-drop from the grass. Ⅴ The breeze—the breath of God—is still—And the mist upon the hill Shadowy—shadowy—yet unbroken, Is a symbol and a token— How it hangs upon the trees, A mystery of mysteries!— (1827) 亡 灵 1 你的灵魂将感到茕茕孑立 置身于阴沉的墓碑的愁绪—— 你的邻居谁也不会来打听 你那秘而未宣的忌辰： 2 你在孤独之时请别做声， 那孤独并非寂寞——因为 活着时站在你前面的人， 他们的灵魂现在将会 再次围绕你——他们的心意 将把你遮蔽——你请安息。 3 夜——虽清朗——将紧锁眉头—— 星星将不会俯瞰人间尘垢， 不会从高高星座灿灿天堂 为浊世凡尘投下希望之光—— 但那些红球体，虽无光辉， 于你的困顿、你的劳累， 将像是一种炽热，一团燃烧， 它将永远永远把你缠绕。 4 现在是你赶不走的思想—— 现在是永不消散的幻象—— 它们再不会从你心中消失—— 不会像露珠从小草上散去。 5 微风——上帝的呼吸——微风悠悠—— 薄雾笼罩朦胧的山头 朦胧——朦胧——未打破的朦胧， 是一种符号，一种象征—— 它如何悬挂在树梢， 一个谜中之谜！ （1827） Evening Star 'Twas noontide of summer, And mid-time of night; And stars, in their orbits, Shone pale, thro' the light Of the brighter, cold moon, 'Mid planets her slaves, Herself in the Heavens, Her beam on the waves. I gaz'd awhile On her cold smile; Too cold—too cold for me— There pass'd, as a shroud, A fleecy cloud, And I turn'd away to thee, Proud Evening Star, In thy glory afar, And dearer thy beam shall be; For joy to my heart Is the proud part Thou bearest in Heav'n at night, And more I admire Thy distant fire, Than that colder, lowly light. (1827) 金 星① 那是在仲夏之夜， 是在夜半的时分； 星星闪烁着淡光， 各自在轨道运行； 冷月比星星灿烂， 星星是她的奴仆， 她高高挂在天上， 月光在海面飘忽。 我举头凝望片刻 望她冰凉的月色； 寒气袭人——于我太清凄—— 一朵白云飘去， 好像一件寿衣， 于是我把目光转向了你， 高贵的金星哟， 你远在天河， 你的光会令我更加珍惜； 因快乐在我心中 就是你在夜空 所具有的那分端庄高贵， 令我更加赞赏 是你遥远的星光， 而不是冷月卑微的清辉。 （1827） 注释 ①　美国作曲家乔纳森·亚当斯（Jonathan Adams）于1993年将这首诗连同爱伦·坡的《赞歌》和《黄金国》谱成钢琴伴奏合唱曲《爱伦·坡歌三曲》（Three Songs from Edgar Allan Poe）。——译者注 Imitation A dark unfathom'd tide Of interminable pride— A mystery, and a dream, Should my early life seem; I say that dream was fraught With a wild, and waking thought Of beings that have been, Which my spirit hath not seen, Had I let them pass me by, With a dreaming eye! Let none of earth inherit That vision on my spirit; Those thoughts I would controul, As a spell upon his soul: For that bright hope at last And that light time have past, And my worldly rest hath gone With a sight as it pass'd on: I care not tho' it perish With a thought I then did cherish. (1827) 模 仿 一股深不可测的潮流， 一股无限自豪的潮流—— 一个梦再加一种神秘， 似乎就是我童年的日子； 我是说我童年那个梦想 充满一种关于生命的思想， 它疯狂而清醒地一再闪现， 可我的心灵却视而不见； 唯愿我不曾让它们消失， 从我昏花迷蒙的眼里！ 那我将绝不会让世人 享有我心灵的幻影； 我会控制那些思路， 作为镇他灵魂的咒符； 因为灿烂的希望已消失， 欢乐时光终于过去， 我人世的休眠已结束 随着像是死亡的一幕： 我珍惜的思想一道消散 可我对此处之淡然。 （1827） ＂Stanzas＂ How often we forget all time, when lone Admiring Nature's universal throne; Her woods—her wilds—her mountains—the intense Reply of HERS to OUR intelligence! 1 In youth have I known one with whom the Earth In secret communing held—as he with it, In day light, and in beauty from his birth: Whose fervid, flick'ring torch of life was lit From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth A passionate light—such for his spirit was fit— And yet that spirit knew—not in the hour Of its own fervor—what had o'er it power. 2 Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought To a ferver by the moon beam that hangs o'er, But I will half believe that wild light fraught With more of sov'reignty than ancient lore Hath ever told—or is it of a thought The unembodied essence, and no more That with a quick'ning spell doth o'er us pass As dew of the night-time, o'er the summer grass? 3 Doth o'er us pass, when, as th' expanding eye To the lov'd object—so the tear to the lid Will start, which lately slept in apathy? And yet it need not be—(that object) hid From us in life—but common—which doth lie Each hour before us—but then only bid With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken T' awake us—'Tis a symbol and a token. 4 Of what in other worlds shall be—and giv'n In beauty by our God, to those alone Who otherwise would fall from life and Heav'n Drawn by their heart's passion, and that tone, That high tone of the spirit which hath striv'n Tho' not with Faith—with godliness—whose throne With desp'rate energy 't hath beaten down; Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown. (1827) “诗 节” 孤寂时，我们是如何经常地忘却 赞美大自然至高无上的权力； 她的旷野——她的山岗——她的森林—— 她对我们才智的热心的回应！ 1 我年少时认识一人能与大地沟通， 大地与他密谈——如他与大地交谈， 在光天化日，在他与生俱来的美中： 他熠熠闪耀的生命之火炬被点燃 从太阳和星星，他由之获得激情—— 获得与他心灵相配的激情之光焰—— 然而那心灵知道——当它不激昂之时—— 知道那种超越它激情光焰的威力。 2 也许我会认为，超越它光焰的光芒 是高悬头顶的月亮所射出的银辉， 但我也怀疑那是一团野性的火光， 具有的绝对权威多过古老的智慧， 它尚未显现——或是不是一种思想， 那无形的元素，仅仅穿过我辈 以一种令人鼓舞催人苏醒的魔力 就像露珠于小草，在仲夏夜半之时？ 3 穿透我辈，当那睁得大大的双眼 凝视心爱之物——于是晶莹的泪珠 涌向近来在淡漠中沉睡的眼睑？ 可它又没有必要——（那心爱之物） 遮掩于生活之中——而是很普遍—— 时时在我们眼前——但届时只需吩咐， 用一种像琴弦断裂的奇怪声音， 我们醒来——那是一种符号，一种象征。 4 是将在另一些世界里的事物之象征—— 在美中被我们的上帝给予孤独者， 不然他们会堕落，从生活和天庭， 被他们心的热望和那音调所诱惑， 那灵魂中的高音调，它一直在斗争 虽然不是与信仰——与虔敬——其宝座 早已把它击败——以雷霆万钧之力； 戴上它自己的深情作为一顶荣冠。 （1827） A Dream In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed— But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted. Ah! what is not a dream by day To him whose eyes are cast On things around him with a ray Turned back upon the past? That holy dream—that holy dream, While all the world were chiding, Hath cheered me as a lovely beam A lonely spirit guiding. What though that light, thro' storm and night, So trembled from afar— What could there be more purely bright In Truth's day-star? (1827) 一个梦 在沉沉黑夜的幻影之中 我梦见欢乐已一去不回—— 但大白天一个现实之梦 早已让我的心儿破碎。 唉！什么才不是白日梦幻 对他四下张望的眼睛 望周围之物用一种视线 用一种回顾过去的眼神？ 那神圣之梦——神圣之梦， 当全世界都在发出吼声， 像一道美丽的光使我振奋， 引导一个孤寂的灵魂。 即使那道光如此遥远， 即使穿夜沐雨又有何妨—— 难道它不能更纯洁灿烂 当照着真实的杲杲太阳。 （1827） ＂The Happiest Day＂ The happiest day—the happiest hour My sear'd and blighted heart hath known, The highest hope of pride, and power, I feel hath flown. Of power! said I? yes! such I ween But they have vanish'd long alas! The visions of my youth have been— But let them pass. And, pride, what have I now with thee? Another brow may ev'n inherit The venom thou hast pour'd on me— Be still my spirit. The happiest day—the happiest hour Mine eyes shall see—have ever seen The brightest glance of pride and power I feel—have been: But were that hope of pride and power Now offer'd, with the pain Ev'n then I felt—that brightest hour I would not live again: For on its wing was dark alloy And as it flutter'd—fell An essence—powerful to destroy A soul that knew it well. (1827) “最快乐的日子” 最快乐的日子，最快乐的时辰 我麻木的心儿所能感知， 最显赫的权势，最辉煌的荣幸 我的知觉所能期冀。 我说权势？不错！如我期盼， 可那期盼早已化为乌有！ 我青春的梦想也烟消云散—— 但就让它们付之东流。 荣耀，我现在与你有何关系？ 另一个额头也许会继承 你曾经喷在我身上的毒汁—— 安静吧，我的心灵。 最快乐的日子，最快乐的时辰 我的眼睛将看——所一直凝视， 最显赫的权势，最辉煌的荣幸 我的知觉所一直希冀： 但如果那权势和荣耀的希望 现在飞来，带着在那时候 我也感到的痛苦——那极乐时光 我也再不会去享受： 因为希望的翅膀变暗发黑， 而当它飞翔时——掉下一种 元素——其威力足以摧毁 一个以为它美好的灵魂。 （1827） The Lake—To In spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide world a spot The which I could not love the less— So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, And the tall pines that towered around. But when the Night had thrown her pall Upon that spot, as upon all, And the mystic wind went by Murmuring in melody— Then—ah then I would awake To the terror of the lone lake. Yet that terror was not fright, But a tremulous delight— A feeling not the jewelled mine Could teach or bribe me to define— Nor Love—although the Love were thine. Death was in that poisonous wave, And in its gulf a fitting grave For him who thence could solace bring To his lone imagining— Whose solitary soul could make An Eden of that dim lake. (1827) 湖致 我命中注定在年少之时 常去这荒芜世界的一隅， 现在我依然爱那个地方—— 如此可爱是那湖的凄凉， 凄凉的湖，湖畔黑岩嶙峋， 湖边还有苍松高耸入云。 可是当黑暗撒开夜幕 将湖与世界一同罩住， 当神秘的风在我耳边 悄声诉说着蜜语甜言—— 这时——哦，这时我会醒悟， 会意识到那孤湖的恐怖。 可那种恐怖并不吓人， 不过是一阵发抖的高兴—— 一种感情，即便用满山宝石 也不能诱惑我下出定义—— 爱也不能——纵然那爱是你的。 死亡就在那有毒的涟漪里， 在它的深渊，有一块坟地 适合于他，他能从那墓堆 为他孤独的想象带来安慰—— 他寂寞的灵魂能够去改变， 把凄凉的湖变成伊甸乐园。① （1827） 注释 ①　本诗末节隐约涉及托马斯·摩尔《凄凉的沼泽湖》一诗中某些细节。——编者注 Sonnet—To Science Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art! Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes. Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart, Vulture, whose wings are dull realities? How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise, Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies, Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing? Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car? And driven the Hamadryad from the wood To seek a shelter in some happier star? Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood, The Elfin from the green grass, and from me The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree? (1829) 十四行诗 致科学① 科学哟！你是时间忠实的女儿！ 你变更一切，用你眼睛的凝视。 为何要这样蹂躏诗人的心坎儿， 兀鹰，你的翅膀是阴暗的现实？② 他何以爱你？何以认为你深奥， 你总是不愿任凭他去漂泊游荡， 不愿他去镶满钻石的天空觅宝， 纵令他展开无畏的翅翼去翱翔？ 你不是已把狄安娜拖下了马车？ 不是已把山林仙子逐离了森林， 让她去某颗幸运的星躲灾避祸？ 你不是已从水中撵走水泽女神， 把小精灵赶出绿茵，然后又从 凤眼果树下驱散我夏日的美梦？ （1829） 注释 ①　一些不宜公开的原因（其中有的与剽窃有关，有的与丁尼生第一本诗集的出版日期有关）促使我经再三犹豫之后重印这些诗行，我童年时期的习作。它们与原版完全相同，一字未改。由于年代久远，具体的写作日期已无法确认。——爱伦·坡[【译者按】此诗1829年问世时没有标题，一直作为《阿尔阿拉夫》的序诗，1843年重印时首次使用现诗名，单独成篇。此诗主题与华兹华斯的《转折》和济慈的《拉弥亚》异曲同工，均抱怨科学破坏诗意。把科学当作缪斯的丁尼生在其早期诗作里也涉及了科学与艺术的关系。丁尼生的第一本个人诗集是《抒情诗集》（Poems, Chiefly Lyrical），出版于1830年。］ ②　兀鹰指科学，爱伦·坡在其作品中曾多次宣称科学是艺术的死敌。——译者注 Al Aaraaf Part Ⅰ O! nothing earthly save the ray (Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye, As in those gardens where the day Springs from the gems of Circassy— O! nothing earthly save the thrill Of melody in woodland rill— Or (music of the passion-hearted) Joy's voice so peacefully departed That like the murmur in the shell, Its echo dwelleth and will dwell— Oh, nothing of the dross of ours— Yet all the beauty—all the flowers That list our Love, and deck our bowers— Adorn yon world afar, afar— The wandering star. 'Twas a sweet time for Nesace—for there Her world lay lolling on the golden air, Near four bright suns—a temporary rest— An Oasis in desert of the blest. Away—away—'mid seas of rays that roll Empyrean splendor o'er th' unchained soul— The soul that scarce (the billows are so dense) Can struggle to its destin'd eminence— To distant spheres, from time to time, she rode, And late to ours, the favour'd one of God— But, now, the ruler of an anchor'd realm, She throws aside the sceptre—leaves the helm, And, amid incense and high spiritual hymns, Laves in quadruple light her angel limbs. Now happiest, loveliest in yon lovely Earth, Whence sprang the "Idea of Beauty" into birth, (Falling in wreaths thro' many a startled star, Like woman's hair 'mid pearls, until, afar, It lit on hills Achaian, and there dwelt) She look'd into Infinity—and knelt. Rich clouds, for canopies, about her curled— Fit emblems of the model of her world— Seen but in beauty—not impeding sight Of other beauty glittering thro' the light— A wreath that twined each starry form around, And all the opal'd air in colour bound. All hurriedly she knelt upon a bed Of flowers: of lilies such as rear'd the head On the fair Capo Deucato, and sprang So eagerly around about to hang Upon the flying footsteps of—deep pride— Of her who lov'd a mortal—and so died. The Sephalica, budding with young bees, Uprear'd its purple stem around her knees: And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam'd— Inmate of highest stars, where erst it sham'd All other loveliness: its honied dew (The fabled nectar that the heathen knew) Deliriously sweet, was dropp'd from Heaven, And fell on gardens of the unforgiven In Trebizond—and on a sunny flower So like its own above that, to this hour, It still remaineth torturing the bee With madness, and unwonted reverie: In Heaven, and all its environs, the leaf And blossom of the fairy plant, in grief Disconsolate linger—grief that hangs her head, Repenting follies that full long have fled, Heaving her white breast to the balmy air, Like guilty beauty, chasten'd, and more fair: Nyctanthes too, as sacred as the light She fears to perfume, perfuming the night: And Clytia pondering between many a sun, While pettish tears adown her petals run: And that aspiring flower that sprang on Earth— And died, ere scarce exalted into birth, Bursting its odorous heart in spirit to wing Its way to Heaven, from garden of a king: And Valisnerian lotus thither flown From struggling with the waters of the Rhone: And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante! Isola d'oro!—Fior di Levante! And the Nelumbo bud that floats for ever With Indian Cupid down the holy river— Fair flowers, and fairy! to whose care is given To bear the Goddess' song, in odors, up to Heaven: "Spirit! that dwellest where, In the deep sky, The terrible and fair, In beauty vie! Beyond the line of blue— The boundary of the star Which turneth at the view Of thy barrier and thy bar— Of the barrier overgone By the comets who were cast From their pride, and from their throne To be drudges till the last— To be carriers of fire (The red fire of their heart) With speed that may not tire And with pain that shall not part— Who livest—that we know— In Eternity—we feel— But the shadow of whose brow What spirit shall reveal? Tho' the beings whom thy Nesace, Thy messenger hath known Have dream'd for thy Infinity A model of their own— Thy will is done, Oh, God! The star hath ridden high Thro' many a tempest, but she rode Beneath thy burning eye; And here, in thought, to thee— In thought that can alone Ascend thy empire and so be A partner of thy throne— By winged Fantasy, My embassy is given, Till secrecy shall knowledge be In the environs of Heaven." She ceas'd—and buried then her burning cheek Abash'd, amid the lilies there, to seek A shelter from the fervor of His eye; For the stars trembled at the Deity. She stirr'd not—breath'd not—for a voice was there How solemnly pervading the calm air! A sound of silence on the startled ear Which dreamy poets name "the music of the sphere." Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call "Silence"—which is the merest word of all. All Nature speaks, and ev'n ideal things Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings— But ah! not so when, thus, in realms on high The eternal voice of God is passing by, And the red winds are withering in the sky! "What tho' in worlds which sightless cycles run, Link'd to a little system, and one sun— Where all my love is folly and the crowd Still think my terrors but the thunder cloud, The storm, the earthquake, and the ocean-wrath— (Ah! will they cross me in my angrier path?) What tho' in worlds which own a single sun The sands of Time grow dimmer as they run, Yet thine is my resplendency, so given To bear my secrets thro' the upper Heaven. Leave tenantless thy chrystal home, and fly, With all thy train, athwart the moony sky— Apart—like fire-flies in Sicilian night, And wing to other worlds another light! Divulge the secrets of thy embassy To the proud orbs that twinkle—and so be To ev'ry heart a barrier and a ban Lest the stars totter in the guilt of man!" Up rose the maiden in the yellow night, The single-mooned eve!—on Earth we plight Our faith to one love—and one moon adore— The birth-place of young Beauty had no more. As sprang that yellow star from downy hours Up rose the maiden from her shrine of flowers, And bent o'er sheeny mountain and dim plain Her way—but left not yet her Theras?an reign. Part Ⅱ High on a mountain of enamell'd head— Such as the drowsy shepherd on his bed Of giant pasturage lying at his ease, Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees With many a mutter'd "hope to be forgiven" What time the moon is quadrated in Heaven— Of rosy head, that towering far away Into the sunlit ether, caught the ray Of sunken suns at eve—at noon of night, While the moon danc'd with the fair stranger light— Uprear'd upon such height arose a pile Of gorgeous columns on th' unburthen'd air, Flashing from Parian marble that twin smile Far down upon the wave that sparkled there, And nursled the young mountain in its lair. Of molten stars their pavement, such as fall Thro' the ebon air, besilvering the pall Of their own dissolution, while they die— Adorning then the dwellings of the sky. A dome, by linked light from Heaven let down, Sat gently on these columns as a crown— A window of one circular diamond, there, Look'd out above into the purple air, And rays from God shot down that meteor chain And hallow'd all the beauty twice again, Save when, between th' Empyrean and that ring, Some eager spirit flapp'd his dusky wing. But on the pillars Seraph eyes have seen The dimness of this world: that greyish green That Nature loves the best for Beauty's grave Lurk'd in each cornice, round each architrave— And every sculptur'd cherub thereabout That from his marble dwelling peeréd out, Seem'd earthly in the shallow of his niche— Archaian statues in a world so rich? Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis— From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss Of beautiful Gomorrah! O, the wave Is now upon thee—but too late to save! Sound loves to revel in a summer night: Witness the murmur of the grey twilight That stole upon the ear, in Eyraco, Of many a wild star-gazer long ago— That stealeth ever on the ear of him Who, musing, gazeth on the distance dim And sees the darkness coming as a cloud— Is not its form—its voice—most palpable and loud? But what is this?—it cometh—and it brings A music with it—'tis the rush of wings— A pause —and then a sweeping, falling strain And Nesace is in her halls again. From the wild energy of wanton haste Her cheeks were flushing, and her lips apart; And zone that clung around her gentle waist Had burst beneath the heaving of her heart. Within the centre of that hall to breathe She paus'd and panted, Zanthe! all beneath, The fairy light that kiss'd her golden hair And long'd to rest, yet could but sparkle there! Young flowers were whispering in melody To happy flowers that night—and tree to tree; Fountains were gushing music as they fell In many a star-lit grove, or moon-lit dell; Yet silence came upon material things— Fair flowers, bright waterfalls and angel wings— And sound alone that from the spirit sprang Bore burthen to the charm the maiden sang: " 'Neath blue-bell or streamer— Or tufted wild spray That keeps, from the dreamer, The moonbeam away— Bright beings! that ponder, With half closing eyes, On the stars which your wonder Hath drawn from the skies, Till they glance thro' the shade, and Come down to your brow Like——eyes of the maiden Who calls on you now— Arise! from your dreaming In violet bowers, To duty beseeming These star-litten hours— And shake from your tresses Encumber'd with dew The breath of those kisses That cumber them too— (O! how, without you, Love! could angels be blest?) Those kisses of true love That lull'd ye to rest! Up!—shake from your wing Each hindering thing: The dew of the night— It would weigh down your flight; And true love caresses— O! leave them apart! They are light on the tresses, But lead on the heart. Ligeia! Ligeia! My beautiful one! Whose harshest idea Will to melody run, O! is it thy will On the breezes to toss? Or, capriciously still, Like the lone Albatross, Incumbent on night (As she on the air) To keep watch with delight On the harmony there? Ligeia! wherever Thy image may be, No magic shall sever Thy music from thee. Thou hast bound many eyes In a dreamy sleep— But the strains still arise Which thy vigilance keep— The sound of the rain Which leaps down to the flower, And dances again In the rhythm of the shower— The murmur that springs From the growing of grass Are the music of things— But are modell'd, alas!— Away, then my dearest, O! hie thee away To springs that lie clearest Beneath the moon-ray— To lone lake that smiles, In its dream of deep rest, At the many star-isles That enjewel its breast— Where wild flowers, creeping, Have mingled their shade, On its margin is sleeping Full many a maid— Some have left the cool glade, and Have slept with the bee— Arouse them my maiden, On moorland and lea— Go! breathe on their slumber, All softly in ear, The musical number They slumber'd to hear— For what can awaken An angel so soon Whose sleep hath been taken Beneath the cold moon, As the spell which no slumber Of witchery may test, The rhythmical number Which lull'd him to rest?" Spirits in wing, and angels to the view, A thousand seraphs burst th' Empyrean thro', Young dreams still hovering on their drowsy flight— Seraphs in all but "Knowledge," the keen light That fell, refracted, thro' thy bounds, afar O Death! from eye of God upon that star: Sweet was that error—sweeter still that death— Sweet was that error—ev'n with us the breath Of science dims the mirror of our joy— To them 'twere the Simoom, and would destroy— For what (to them) availeth it to know That Truth is Falsehood—or that Bliss is Woe? Sweet was their death—with them to die was rife With the last ecstasy of satiate life— Beyond that death no immortality— But sleep that pondereth and is not "to be"— And there—oh! may my weary spirit dwell— Apart from Heaven's Eternity—and yet how far from Hell! What guilty spirit, in what shrubbery dim, Heard not the stirring summons of that hymn? But two: they fell: for Heaven no grace imparts To those who hear not for their beating hearts. A maiden-angel and her seraph-lover— O! where (and ye may seek the wide skies over) Was Love, the blind, near sober Duty known? Unguided Love hath fallen—'mid "tears of perfect moan." He was a goodly spirit—he who fell: A wanderer by moss-y-mantled well— A gazer on the lights that shine above— A dreamer in the moonbeam by his love: What wonder? for each star is eye-like there, And looks so sweetly down on Beauty's hair— And they, and ev'ry mossy spring were holy To his love-haunted heart and melancholy. The night had found (to him a night of wo) Upon a mountain crag, young Angelo— Beetling it bends athwart the solemn sky, And scowls on starry worlds that down beneath it lie. Here sate he with his love—his dark eye bent With eagle gaze along the firmament: Now turn'd it upon her—but ever then It trembled to the orb of EARTH again. "Ianthe, dearest, see! how dim that ray! How lovely 'tis to look so far away! She seem'd not thus upon that autumn eve I left her gorgeous halls—nor mourn'd to leave. That eve—that eve—I should remember well— The sun-ray dropp'd, in Lemnos, with a spell On th' Arabesque carving of a gilded hall Wherein I sate, and on the drapried wall— And on my eye-lids—O the heavy light! How drowsily it weigh'd them into night! On flowers, before, and mist, and love they ran With Persian Saadi in his Gulistan: But O that light!—I slumber'd—Death, the while, Stole o'er my senses in that lovely isle So softly that no single silken hair Awoke that slept—or knew that he was there. The last spot of Earth's orb I trod upon Was a proud temple call'd the Parthenon— More beauty clung around her column'd wall Than ev'n thy glowing bosom beats withal, And when old Time my wing did disenthral Thence sprang I—as the eagle from his tower, And years I left behind me in an hour. What time upon her airy bounds I hung One half the garden of her globe was flung Unrolling as a chart unto my view— Tenantless cities of the desert too! Ianthe, beauty crowded on me then, And half I wish'd to be again of men." "My Angelo! and why of them to be? A brighter dwelling-place is here for thee— And greener fields than in yon world above, And women's loveliness—and passionate love." "But, list, Ianthe! when the air so soft Fail'd, as my pennon'd spirit leapt aloft, Perhaps my brain grew dizzy—but the world I left so late was into chaos hurl'd— Sprang from her station, on the winds apart, And roll'd, a flame, the fiery Heaven athwart. Methought, my sweet one, then I ceasd to soar And fell—not swiftly as I rose before, But with a downward, tremulous motion thro' Light, brazen rays, this golden star unto! Nor long the measure of my falling hours, For nearest of all stars was thine to ours— Dread star! that came, amid a night of mirth, A red D?dalion on the timid Earth. "We came—and to thy Earth—but not to us Be given our lady's bidding to discuss: We came, my love; around, above, below, Gay fire-fly of the night we come and go, Nor ask a reason save the angel-nod She grants to us, as granted by her God— But, Angelo, than thine grey Time unfurl'd Never his fairy wing o'er fairier world! Dim was its little disk, and angel eyes Alone could see the phantom in the skies, When first Al Aaraaf knew her course to be Headlong thitherward o'er the starry sea— But when its glory swell'd upon the sky, As glowing Beauty's bust beneath man's eye, We paus'd before the heritage of men, And thy star trembled—as doth Beauty then!" Thus, in discourse, the lovers whiled away The night that waned and waned and brought no day. They fell: for Heaven to them no hope imparts Who hear not for the beating of their hearts. (1829) 阿尔阿拉夫① 第一部 啊！没有俗物，只有那道眼光， 那道（从花间反射的）美人的眼光， 就像在那些花园，白昼在那里 从塞尔卡斯的宝石堆里升起—— 啊！没有俗物，只有那种颤音。 那种林间溪涧悦耳的水声—— 或只有（充满爱的心之音乐） 欢快的声音消失得那么和谐 就像琴声喁喁哝哝婉转幽咽， 其余音萦回旋绕，缠绵不绝—— 呵，没有我们世界的浮沫沉渣—— 有的全都是美人，全都是鲜花 为我们的爱增辉，为寓所添华—— 装饰远方那个世界，远方—— 那颗漫游的星。 对妮莎丝是个美妙的时辰——因为 她的世界在金色的天空懒洋洋飘飞， 靠近四个太阳——一个临时栖息之处—— 天国大漠旷野里的一块绿洲。 远方——远方——在光的波浪之中， 光波把九天华彩卷向获释的灵魂—— （光波太浓密）获释的灵魂几乎 不能够挣扎着到达命定的高处—— 妮莎丝常常飘向遥远的天域， 最近飘向我们，上帝宠爱的人世—— 不过，此刻，这漂泊王国的女王 离开了她的宝座——丢下了权杖， 闻着袅袅焚香，听着隐隐圣歌， 在四重光里把她可爱的手足洗濯。 最幸运最快活在远方可爱的凡尘， “理想之美”就是在那儿降生， （在烟圈云环中，穿过骇然的星， 降落，像女人饰着珍珠的秀发， 它降在亚该亚山上——在那儿安家） 她极目眺望苍穹——然后跪下。 彩云如幔帐在她身边缭绕升腾—— 她那个世界形体的恰当的象征—— 一切都在美中——但不妨碍眺望 其他的美在她眼里熠熠闪光—— 一片旋云，盘绕每个星状的形体， 凝在镶着彩边的蛋白石般的天宇。 她慌慌张张在一个花坛上跪下， 那个花坛上有各种各样的名花， 有卡波杜加多山上昂首的百合② 它们曾急切地跃起，想去扑捉 那双深深自傲的腾空的纤足， 她爱上了一个男人——因此而亡故。③ 还有招惹蜜蜂的索菲丽卡花 也曾伸出紫色的茎去把她挽留： 还有被特比隆人误称的宝石花——④ 它本与星星为伴，但已经很久 它使自己所有的可爱蒙辱含羞： 它那香得令人发狂的甘露 （异教徒所知的传说中的琼浆） 被从天上滴下，滴进不可饶恕 的特比隆花园——滴在太阳花上， 此花与它那么相像，直到现在 它依然留在那里，折磨蜜蜂 用人世罕见的谵狂和发疯： 而在天上，在靠近天上的地方， 那仙葩的花和叶一直感到忧伤， 忧伤和悲郁使她一直低垂着头， 为她早年愚蠢的过失忏悔内疚， 把她白色的胸展向芳菲的空气， 像美女因罪受罚而更显美丽： 还有夜来香，像白昼一样神圣， 她害怕在夜里把她的馨香耗尽： 还有秘鲁菊在烈日下沉思默想，⑤ 委屈的泪珠顺着花瓣往下滴淌： 还有那种花，它渴望来到尘世——⑥ 但还来不及完全绽开就已死去， 勇敢无畏地绽开它芳香的花心， 从国王的花园，袅袅飞向天庭： 瓦利森内利亚水百合躲向一边，⑦ 避免与罗纳河的洪水急流纠缠： 桑特，你最可爱的紫色芳华！⑧ 菲菲之岛！——黎瓦特的鲜花！⑨ 还有那睡莲，永远在飘荡， 载着印度的丘比特在圣河之上——⑩ 美丽的花哟，仙女哟！仔细倾听， 用你们的芳香把女神的歌载上天庭：? “上帝哟！你居住 在九重天庭， 那儿公正与恐怖 为美而竞争！ 在蓝天的界线那边—— 此星的界碑， 它一见你的栅栏 便立即折回—— 彗星把那界线超过， 便被你抛弃 从它们的荣耀和星座， 永远去服苦役—— 成为火的搬运夫 （它们心的红火） 以永不疲倦的速度， 永不消失的痛苦—— 你居住——我们知道—— 于永恒——我们感知—— 但你那影子般的容貌 什么灵魂能揭示？ 尽管你的信徒妮莎丝 所知晓的人类 一直幻想你的无极 为他们自己的形体——? 但你志已遂，哦，上帝！ 这颗星已升高 穿过许多暴风雨，但是 在你燃烧的眼下； 现在，在默想中，朝着你—— 只有这默想能够 升到你的天国，成为 你王位的伴随—— 是插翅膀的想象? 赋予我这项使命， 将直到秘密公开 在天国的附近。” 她停住声——把她羞红的双颊 深深埋进她身边那些百合花， 寻一个避开他目光的避难所， 因为星星看见上帝都在哆嗦。 她不动——屏息——因为一个声音 那么肃穆地弥漫在沉寂的空中！ 静寂之声向吃惊的耳朵传来， 爱梦想的诗人把此声叫做“天籁”。 这是一个词的世界，“安静”被我们 说成一个最纯粹的字眼“万籁无声”。 天地万物都出声，甚至连想象 也扑漉漉地拍响影子般的翅膀—— 可是哟！万籁皆不能与此声相比， 当上帝那永恒的声音划过天际， 天上那红色的风也渐渐消失！ “那又怎样，在转着看不见的小圈的世界，? 在属于一个小星系、只有一个太阳的世界， 即使我的爱在那里是愚蠢，即使那里的人 依然以为我的恐怖只不过是雷电乌云， 只不过是暴风雨、地震和海啸—— （哈！他们能在我愤怒的路上挡我的道？） 那又怎样，即使在只有一个太阳的尘寰 时间的沙粒随着旋转越来越阴暗， 可你的世界是我的灿烂辉煌，赋予你 是为了把我的密旨传遍更高的天域。 让你水晶般的栖息地空无一人，带上 你全部随从，飞过有月光的天空—— 散开——像萤火虫在西西里的夜晚，? 然后飞向另一些世界在另一个白天！ 泄露你这次秘密的特殊使命， 对那些正在闪烁的骄傲的星辰—— 让每一颗心都有一道森严的壁垒， 以免那些星辰坠入人类的孽罪！” 那位少女直起身在黄色的夜晚， 只有一个月亮的夜晚！——在此尘寰 我们忠于一种爱——把一个月亮尊崇—— 那年轻美女诞生的地方也只有一种。 当那昏黄的星升起在平静的时辰， 那少女从她花的神坛徐徐起身， 转向闪耀的山岭和昏暗的原野—— 但尚未离开她那塞拉西亚王国。? 第二部 就像在一座峰顶绚丽的山上—— 贪睡的牧羊人把牧场当卧床， 舒舒服服地睡完觉睁开双眼， 这时才大吃一惊地突然发现， 嘴里念念有词“但愿能被宽免”， 什么时候月亮已经升得老高—— 从那高耸入云的玫瑰色的山峰 从那伸进阳光普照的天空的山峰， 能看见夕阳余晖——在午夜时分， 月亮正在奇妙的日光中穿行—— 在无牵累的风中，在这样的高处， 升起了一团团璀璨华丽的烟柱， 从帕罗斯岛的大理石闪出相同的微笑， 朝下投向那泛着泡沫的波涛， 那波涛正把年幼的山爱抚拥抱。 那些脱离了轨道的炽热的星星，? 就像那些穿过黑暗坠落的星星， 毁灭时为自己的柩衣染上银色—— 这样来装饰苍穹上那些寓所。 一座殿宇挽着徐徐落下的天堂之光， 像一顶王冠轻轻罩在烟柱之上—— 那儿，一扇钻石镶成的圆形窗户 向四面八方窥视着紫色的天幕， 来自上帝的光线击落了那些陨星， 再一次让所有的美都更加神圣， 除了在最高天与那道界线之间， 一个热切的灵魂把忧郁的翅翼扑展。 但在烟柱之上撒拉弗早已看见 这个世界的蒙昧愚钝：那大自然 最喜欢用来装饰美人坟茔的黛绿 却隐藏在每座雕梁画栋之中—— 到处遍布的大理石天使雕像， 仿佛正从栖身之处朝外张望， 在壁龛的阴影中显得那么世俗—— 这世上亚该亚的雕像竟如此丰富？ 墙饰上有塔德摩尔、波斯波利斯——? 有巴尔比克，有平静清澈的深底—— 美丽的蛾摩拉！哦，死海的浪? 现在卷向你——但要得救已经太迟！ 声音喜欢沉迷于夏夜的时分： 薄暮黄昏的呢哝就可以证明， 在很久很久以前，在昂拉哥，? 它就偷偷溜进许多观星者的耳朵—— 它甚至悄悄钻进那种人的耳里， 那种人喜欢看着远方黑暗沉思， 看着那黑暗走来，犹如一片云—— 它的形——它的声——难道不可触听？? 但这是什么？——它来了——带进 一阵音乐——这是翅膀的扑腾—— 稍停——接着是势不可挡的奋力 妮莎丝又回到了她的殿宇。 由于急若流星，逐日追风 此时她朱唇微启，双颊绯红； 环绕在她腰间的那根束带 已在她胸脯的起伏下裂开。 她停下，在那座殿宇的中央， 气喘吁吁，桑特！就在下方， 那亲吻过她金发的可爱的光 渴望休息，但只能在那儿发亮！ 那一夜，初开的花声调甜蜜? 与快活的花唧咕——树与树也在私语； 清泉正迸出美妙的音乐，飞流直下 在星光下的树林，月色中的谷涯； 可寂静终于笼罩这世间万事万物—— 美丽的花、天使的翅、晶亮的瀑布—— 只剩下从那个灵魂发出的声音 陪衬着那位少女唱出的咒文： “在风铃草或在乌云—— 还是在树丛下， 它们能为梦中的人 遮挡住明华——? 美人哟！你沉思， 半闭着眼睛， 对着被你的惊奇 从天上拽下的星星， 直到它们闪过阴暗 来到你跟前 就像——这少女的双眼 正在把你召唤—— 醒来吧！从你的梦， 从紫罗兰凉亭， 在这适合的星光中 去完成使命—— 从你的秀发上 甩掉露珠， 那露珠的亲吻 会把你缠阻—— （哦！没有你，爱情！ 天使怎能陶醉？） 这些发自爱的亲吻 只会哄你安睡！ 起来吧！——从你的翅膀 甩掉所有累赘： 夜露的重量—— 会妨碍你高飞； 那些爱的拥抱接吻—— 哦！统统甩掉！ 它们在头发上很轻， 但在心里很沉！ 丽姬娅！丽姬娅！ 我的美人！ 你严厉的想法 将美妙动听， 哦！你是不是希望 辗转在风中？ 或依然多变无常， 像孤独的信天翁，? 躺卧在夜晚 （当她仍在振翮） 欣然地照看 那里的谐和？ 丽姬娅！你的影子 无论在何处， 没有魔力能把你 的音乐断阻。 你已经多次闭眼 在一场梦中—— 但那曲调仍在绵延， 它保持你警醒—— 那跃向花间的 潇潇的雨声， 那有阵雨节奏的 翩翩的雨声 那小草生长时 发出的咿呀 都是音乐——但都是? 模仿，天啦！ 所以去吧，我亲爱的， 哦！快快去吧， 快去那清澈的泉源， 它正沐浴着月华—— 快去那孤独的湖边， 它正在睡梦中微笑， 笑星罗棋布的小岛 那镶饰湖心的珠宝—— 那儿，野花的蔓延 与它们的阴影融汇， 就在那水边湖畔 一群少女在沉睡—— 有的离开了沼泽，并且 和蜜蜂睡在一起? 快唤醒我这些少女 在沼泽或在草地—— 去吧！当她们正在睡觉 轻轻往她们耳里 唱出那优美的曲调， 她们梦里也能感知—— 因为什么能如此快当 唤醒一名天使 他沐浴着冰冷的月光 一直睡得很死， 像这连魔法催眠 也不敢一试的符咒， 那哄他昏昏入睡的 美妙的曲调悠悠？” 飘飞的灵魂，还有天使们都看见 一千个撒拉弗闯出了九重高天， 青春的梦依然翱翔，在昏睡中飞行—— 全部撒拉弗都在跌落，哦，死神！ 跌入你的疆界，唯有“知识”，智慧之光 从上帝眼中折射到那颗遥远的星上： 快活就是罪过——更快活依然是死—— 快活就是罪过——甚至科学的气息 也使我们的快活的反光变得暗淡—— 对他们那是热风，将毁他们于一旦—— 知道这一点（于他们）又有何益 真实乃虚妄——或欢乐就是悲戚？ 快活是他们的死亡——死亡对于他们 充满了快乐生活中最后的销魂—— 在那种死亡之后没有不朽永生—— 只有沉思的睡眠，但那不是“生存”—— 而在那儿——哦！愿我疲惫的灵魂能寄寓—— 那儿未及天堂的永恒——但却远离地狱！? 何等有罪之魂，呆的灌木丛有多暗， 才听不见那首圣歌动人心弦的召唤？ 但有俩：他们坠落，因为上帝不赐恩 于那些由于心跳而听不见召唤的人。 一个天使般的少女和她天使般的情郎—— 哦！爱在哪儿（你们可寻遍九天苍茫） 那盲目在哪儿，几乎清醒的忠贞可知？ 无指引的爱已坠落——在“绝对悲哀的泪中”。? 坠落的他——他是个英俊的灵魂： 一个在覆满苔藓的井边徘徊的人—— 一个天上闪亮的星星的凝视者—— 一个被爱情驱进月光的梦幻者： 这有何奇怪？每颗星星都像眼睛， 都那么美妙地瞧不起美人的发鬓—— 它们和覆盖苔藓的井都值得崇拜 对他被爱情萦绕的心和他的悲哀。 夜曾发现（那夜于他是一场灾祸） 在高高的悬岩上，年轻的朗基罗—— 那岩突出垂悬横过幽暗的夜空， 对下面闪烁如星的浮世显出怒容。 他在那儿享受够了爱——他的双眼 像鹰一样犀利凝视过茫茫苍天： 此刻他收回眼看她——但就在这时 一看见浮尘浊世眼睛又开始颤栗。 “伊恩瑟，亲爱的！你看那光多暗！ 看起来多么可爱，当离得这么远！ 那年秋日黄昏她似乎并不是这样， 我离开她华丽的厅堂时并没有忧伤。 那黄昏——那黄昏——我将永远记住—— 在利姆诺斯岛，阳光带着道咒符 射进我住的那个金碧辉煌的厅堂， 辉映精巧的雕刻和挂着帷幔的墙—— 哦，那沉重的光——照上我的双眼！ 使它们像铅一般重昏昏坠入夜晚！ 这双眼睛在古利斯坦随波斯苏丹 曾把鲜花、薄雾和爱情——浏览： 可因那道光！我沉睡——这时死神 就在那可爱的小岛偷走我的理性， 偷得那么轻，连一根轻柔的发丝 也未唤醒睡者——或知道他在那里。 我在那尘世所去的最后一个地方 就是被叫做帕耳忒农的神圣殿堂——? 在她的圆柱间流连忘返如痴如醉 甚至比躺在你炽热的胸脯更加甜美，? 而当古老的时间释放开我的翅膀， 我从那里腾空而起——像鹰扶摇直上， 一个时辰我便在身后留下多年时光。 当我在她那缥缈的限界飘浮等待， 她那金球的半个花园在我眼前展开， 在我看来那就像是一张地图—— 就像是大漠旷野的城邑无人栖住！ 伊恩瑟，这时候美又涌上我心底， 我真有点儿希望能重新返回尘世。” “我的朗基罗！干吗要重返尘世？ 这儿有更适合你居住的乐土福地—— 有比那世界更青翠的莽原野郊， 有热烈的爱情——有女人的美妙。” “可听着，伊恩瑟！当微风平息， 当我曾被束缚的灵魂腾空而起， 也许我的头脑发昏——但那个世界， 我迟迟离开的世界被抛进了混沌—— 一团火焰从她的位置，逆着风， 蹿腾翻滚着横穿过火红的天空。 我想，亲爱的，那时我的飞翔停止， 开始跌落——不像我飞升那么速急， 但随着一阵令人颤栗的向下穿行， 穿过黄铜色的光，跌向这颗金星！ 我向下跌落的时间也并不太久， 因为离我们最近的是你的星球—— 可怕的星！它来，在欢快的夜之中， 这怯懦世界之上的一座红色迷宫。 “我们来——朝你们的世界——但我们 小姐的吩咐不是给予我们来讨论： 我们来，我的爱人；上下左右中， 我们来来去去像夜晚快活的萤火虫， 除了天使的允诺，别问什么原因， 她允诺我们，就如她蒙上帝恩准—— 但朗基罗，比起你的，灰色的时间 绝不会展开仙翅飞越更美的乐园！ 它小小的表面很暗，只有天使的眼睛 才能在茫茫天际看见那些幻影， 当阿尔阿拉夫初次知道她的方向 是急速飞往那个布满星星的海洋—— 但当她的光辉在天际越来越恢弘， 就像男人眼里美女鲜嫩的酥胸， 我们停住，在男人的天性之前， 而你的星发抖——就像美人在打颤！” 就这样，说着话，那对恋人消磨时间 那夜晚越来越暗，再不会迎来白天。 他们坠落：因为上帝对他们失去信心， 他们因自己的心跳听不见上帝的声音。 （1829） 注释 ①　爱伦·坡在1829年5月致出版商艾萨克·利的一封信中谈及此诗：“谨奉上拙诗一首……诗名《阿尔阿拉夫》出自阿拉伯传说中的一个地名，那是介于天堂和地狱之间的一个地方，人在那里不遭受天罚，但也得不到他们认为天堂才具有的宁静和幸福……我把这个‘阿尔阿拉夫’置于被第谷·布拉赫（【译者按】Tycho Brohe，1546—1601，丹麦天文学家）所发现的那颗突然出现又突然消失的著名的星上——这颗星代表上帝的一颗信使之星，它在被第谷观测期间正作为派往我们这个世界的特使。阿尔阿拉夫的特征之一就是，即便在死后，那些选定该星作为归宿之地的人也不能获得永生——而是在令人激动的第二次生命之后坠入忘川和死谷。这种思想来自《约伯记》——’我不会永生，请别管我！’（【译者按】见《旧约·约伯记》第7章第16节）我一直在想该星出现那个年代的一些著名人物，如被写进《阿尔阿拉夫》的米开朗基罗——还有其他人——不过现在还只有米开朗基罗出现在诗中。”——编者注 ②　即圣马诺山，在累斯卡夫岛南端。——原注 ③　萨福。——原注（【译者按】相传这位古希腊女诗人曾爱上一名叫法翁的男青年，失恋后跳海自杀。） ④　此花被列文虎克和图尔讷福尔一再提及。蜜蜂采其花而醉。——原注[【译者按】列文虎克（Antonie van Leeuwenhoek，1632—1723）是荷兰显微镜学家，图尔讷福尔（Joseph Pitton de Tournefort，1656—1708）是法国植物学家。] ⑤　秘鲁菊俗称向阳花，此花永远朝阳，日光强烈时它会分泌出一种雾状水珠，自我降温，以保持花朵鲜艳。——圣皮埃尔[【译者按】指法国作家贝尔纳丹·德·圣皮埃尔（1737—1814），他著有《大自然的研究》（1784—1788）和浪漫小说《保尔和薇吉妮》（1788）。] ⑥　巴黎王宫栽有一种蛇状无刺之龙舌兰，花大而美，香艳无比，但花期极短。七月开花时，人可观其花瓣慢慢绽开，花盛随即枯萎。——圣皮埃尔 ⑦　法国罗纳河中有种漂亮的瓦利森内利亚属水百合，其茎长3—4英尺，涨水时也能将其花冠伸出水面。——原注 ⑧　桑特，风信子。——原注 ⑨　参见《十四行诗——致桑特岛》末行及其注释。——译者注 ⑩　这是一个印度传说，丘比特最初被人发现是漂在恒河中的一朵睡莲上——他现在仍喜欢他童年的摇篮。——原注 ?　盛满香的金炉，此香便是众圣徒的祈祷。——圣约翰（【译者按】见《新约·启示录》第5章第8节。） ?　基督凡人论者认为上帝应该被理解为实际上具有人类的形体。（见《克拉克布道书》对开本卷1第26页）弥尔顿辩论的要旨使他采用了乍眼一看似乎接近他们教义的语言，但人们很快就能看出，他是在防止自己被指责为采用了教会黑暗时期的一个最愚蠢的谬误。（见萨姆纳博士著《弥尔顿〈论基督教教义〉注疏》）尽管有许多相反的证据，但这一见解从来未能普及。安德斯，美索不达米亚的一个叙利亚人，曾因这一见解而被斥为异教徒。他生活在14世纪初叶，他的门徒被称为神人共性论者。（见《迪潘》）在弥尔顿的次要诗作中有这些诗行： 请问，统治着圣林的女神， 当人类最初被创造之时， 造物主到底以什么为模型？ 同这世界一样永恒、纯洁、久远， 上帝所能用的唯一而普遍的模式。 ——后来还有： 睿智的忒瑞西阿斯从未见过这形体， 他的盲眼给他的幻象在他的心底。——原注 ?　朱庇特的奇怪的女儿／想象所宠爱的孩子。——歌德 ?　看不见的——太小而不可视。——莱格（【译者按】原注语焉不详。但基督教世界有“上帝太小，我们看不见，或我们太小，上帝看不见”的说法。） ?　我常常注意到萤火虫的一种奇特的活动，它们会聚成一团，然后从同一中心朝无数个方向四散飞开。——原注 ?　塞拉西亚，塞内加曾提及的那座岛屿，那岛能突然从海底升起，展现在吃惊的水手眼前。——原注 ?　一颗星星，从抖动的苍天／那被毁的苍穹，不幸坠落。——弥尔顿[【译者按】见弥尔顿写于1628年的《哀可爱孩子死于咳嗽》（On the Death of a Fair Infant Dying of Cough）第7节。] ?　伏尔泰在谈及波斯波利斯时说：“我很了解由那堆废墟所激发的这种赞美——那毕竟是一座建在光秃秃的石岩山脉脚下的宫殿——它完全可以是一件艺术杰作！”——原注（【译者按】波斯波利斯是继帕萨加第之后的古波斯都城，公元前330年至公元前316年先后遭亚历山大大帝和阿拉伯人的劫掠，从塞琉古王朝起逐渐衰落，其废墟遗址位于伊朗西南部设拉子东北约51公里处，从遗址仍可依稀想象出当年壮丽恢宏的气势。） ?　“哦，死海的浪”——乌拉德格斯是它的土耳其名，但在其岸边则被称为拜雷卢特或阿尔莫坦那。有两座以上的城市曾被卷入“死海”，这确凿无疑。在西顿河谷就有5座——押迪哈、洗扁、琐拉、所多玛和蛾摩拉。拜占庭的史蒂芬提到8座，而斯特拉博则说13座（被卷入）——但最后一说毫无道理。根据塔西佗、斯特拉博、约瑟夫斯、圣萨巴的丹尼尔、诺、蒙德雷尔、特洛伊罗和达尔维耶等人的记载，在大旱之后，残柱断壁可露出水面。在任何季节，只消朝下看那清澈的湖底便可看见那些遗迹，而经历了漫长得连世人都难以确知的岁月，曾存在于该地区的许多居住地，如今都被“死海”淹没。——原注 ?　昂拉哥——即迦勒底。——原注 ?　我常常认为我能清晰地听见黑夜来临的声音，当它悄悄跨过地平线之时。——原注 ?　仙女们用花作她们的标记。（莎士比亚《温莎的风流女人们》）——原注（【译者按】见该剧第5幕第5场，河滨版第73行，皇家版第62行。） ?　圣经云——“白天太阳不会伤害你，夜晚月亮不会伤害你。”（【译者按】语出《旧约·诗篇》第121篇第6节。）人们一般也许不知，在埃及，月亮会使那些把脸暴露在月光下睡觉的人致盲，圣经即就此而言。——原注 ?　据说信天翁能在飞行中睡觉。——原注 ?　我是在一个我现在记不起名的古老的英国传说中见到此说的：“凡音乐的质、本、源，可以说都是林中草木生长时发出的欢乐之声。”——原注 ?　如果有月光，野蜂不会睡在阴影里。此处韵脚与大约前60行处的韵脚一样，显得不自然。但这是在模仿瓦尔特·司各特爵士，更准确地说是在模仿克劳德·哈尔科，我喜欢从他嘴里唱出来的那种效果：“哦！假若那儿有一座岛，／虽然永远那么冷落／那儿的女人都会微笑，而且男人不会被诱惑。”——原注（【译者按】克劳德·哈尔科是司各特1821年出版的小说《海盗》中的人物，此处引用的这4行诗出自该小说第7章结尾部分。） ?　阿拉伯传说中有一个介于天堂和地狱之间的地方，那儿的人不受天罚，但也得不到他们认为是天堂欢乐特征的宁静与幸福。“在永恒的梦境中，／在纯净、欢乐、自由的一天中，/（他）企望爱的自由、/热情的自由、倾听的自由／期待的自由、实现的自由。”——路易斯·德·莱昂（【译者按】Luis de Leon，1527—1591，西班牙神秘主义诗人，著名诗篇有《隐居生活》和《宁静的夜晚》等。）悲哀并未与“阿尔阿拉夫”绝缘，但那是一种死者怀念生前爱情的悲哀，这种悲哀在一些人的脑子里像是鸦片引起的谵狂。爱的澎湃激情和伴随于快活的精神陶醉在该星都是不圣洁的——对那些选择“阿尔阿拉夫”作为栖息地的灵魂来说，其代价最终是死亡和毁灭。——原注 ?　那儿有绝对悲哀的眼泪／在赫利孔山为你而流。——弥尔顿（【译者按】引自弥尔顿《为温彻斯特侯爵夫人写的墓志铭》第55–56行。） ?　帕耳忒农神殿在1687年尚完好无损——它是雅典之最高处。——原注 ?　与她们姣好的蛾眉形影相随／比拥有爱神雪白的酥胸还美。——马洛（【译者按】见《浮士德博士的悲剧》第1幕第1场第131行。） ＂Mysterious Star＂ Mysterious star! Thou wert my dream All a long summer night— Be now my theme! By this clear stream, Of thee will I write; Meantime from afar Bathe me in light! Thy world has not the dross of ours, Yet all the beauty—all the flowers That list our love, or deck our bowers In dreamy gardens, where do lie Dreamy maidens all the day, While the silver winds of Circassy On violet couches faint away. Little—oh! little dwells in thee Like unto what on earth we see: Beauty's eye is here the bluest In the falsest and untruest— On the sweetest air doth float The most sad and solemn note— If with thee be broken hearts, Joy so peacefully departs, That its echo still doth dwell, Like the murmur in the shell. Thou! thy truest type of grief Is the gently falling leaf— Thou! thy framing is so holy Sorrow is not melancholy. (1831) “神秘的星”① 神秘的星！ 你曾是我的梦幻 在一个漫长你的夏夜—— 现在做我的题目吧！ 在这粼粼的河畔， 我将把你书写； 我写时，请从远方 把星光朝我倾泻！ 你的世界没有我们世界的残渣， 而全都是美人——全都是鲜花， 为爱情和寓所添色的美人鲜花 在如梦的花园，花园中 整天躺着爱梦幻的少女， 当塞尔卡斯那银色的风 在紫罗兰卧榻上消失。 少许 —— 哦！你那儿只有少许 像是我们在凡尘所见所知： 这儿美人的眼睛最蓝最碧 是在她们最虚伪最不忠之时—— 这儿最最甜蜜的曲调只浮荡 在最忧郁最阴沉的旋律之上—— 在你那里即使心儿破碎， 即使欢乐和谐地消散飘飞， 其余音也依然萦绕盘旋 就像喁喁琴声幽咽婉转。 你！你的最真实的苦涩 不过是一片轻飘的落叶—— 你！你的结构是那么神圣 忧郁在那儿也不成其为伤心。 （1831） 注释 ①　此诗是为收入《诗集》再版的《阿尔阿拉夫》新作的序诗。——编者注 Romance Romance, who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet Hath been—a most familiar bird— Taught me my alphabet to say— To lisp my very earliest word While in the wild wood I did lie, A child—with a most knowing eye. Of late, eternal Condor years So shake the very Heaven on high With tumult as they thunder by, I have no time for idle cares Through gazing on the unquiet sky. And when an hour with calmer wings Its down upon my spirit flings— That little time with lyre and rhyme To while away—forbidden things! My heart would feel to be a crime Unless it trembled with the strings. (1829) 传 奇① 传奇，它喜欢打盹和唱歌， 耷拉着脑袋，把双翅叠合， 在青翠的树叶中，当树叶摇晃 在远方某个影子一般的湖上， 它对我是一只斑斓的鹦鹉， 一直是——一只最熟悉的鸟—— 它曾教我开口牙牙学语—— 曾教我吟出最初的诗句， 当我仰身躺在野外树林， 一个孩子——有双最聪明的眼睛。 最近，不朽的秃鹰世纪② 如此地震荡着高高天空 当它们喧嚣而过雷声隆隆 我已无暇沉湎于闲情 因为凝望那骚动的苍穹。 而当一个翅膀更平稳的时辰 猝然降下飞进我的心灵—— 用七弦琴和韵律把那片刻 时光消磨——犯清规戒律! 我的心总觉得是一种罪过 除非它随着琴弦一同颤栗！ （1829） 注释 ①　此诗最初名为《序》，在1829年版的《阿尔阿拉夫、帖木儿及小诗》中作为该集中那些小诗的序。——编者注 ②　秃鹰世纪指爱伦·坡所处的美国工业化时代。参见《十四行诗——致科学》第4行“兀鹰，你的翅膀是阴暗的现实”及其注释。——译者注 Introduction Romance, who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet Hath been—a most familiar bird— Taught me my alphabet to say— To lisp my very earliest word While in the wild-wood I did lie A child—with a most knowing eye. Succeeding years, too wild for song, Then roll'd like tropic storms along, Where, tho' the garish lights that fly Dying along the troubled sky, Lay bare, thro' vistas thunder-riven, The blackness of the general Heaven, That very blackness yet doth fling Light on the lightning's silver wing. For, being an idle boy lang syne, Who read Anacreon, and drank wine, I early found Anacreon rhymes Were almost passionate sometimes— And by strange alchemy of brain His pleasures always turn'd to pain— His naivete to wild desire— His wit to love—his wine to fire— And so, being young and dipt in folly I fell in love with melancholy, And used to throw my earthly rest And quiet all away in jest— I could not love except where Death Was mingling his with Beauty's breath— Or Hymen, Time, and Destiny Were stalking between her and me. O, then the eternal Condor years So shook the very Heavens on high, With tumult as they thunder'd by; I had no time for idle cares, Thro' gazing on the unquiet sky! Or if an hour with calmer wing Its down did on my spirit fling, That little hour with lyre and rhyme To while away—forbidden thing! My heart half fear'd to be a crime Unless it trembled with the string. But now my soul hath too much room— Gone are the glory and the gloom— The black hath mellow'd into grey, And all the fires are fading away. My draught of passion hath been deep— I revell'd, and I now would sleep— And after-drunkenness of soul Succeeds the glories of the bowl— An idle longing night and day To dream my very life away. But dreams—of those who dream as I, Aspiringly, are damned, and die: Yet should I swear I mean alone, By notes so very shrilly blown, To break upon Time's monotone, While yet my vapid joy and grief Are tintless of the yellow leaf— Why not an imp the greybeard hath, Will shake his shadow in my path— And even the greybeard will o'erlook Connivingly my dreaming-book. (1831) 序 曲① 传奇，它喜欢打盹和唱歌, 耷拉着脑袋，把双翅叠合， 在青翠的树叶中，当树叶摇晃 在远方某个影子一般的湖上， 它对我是一只斑斓的鹦鹉， 一直是——一只最熟悉的鸟—— 它曾教我开口牙牙学语—— 曾教我吟出最初的诗句， 当我仰身躺在野外树林， 一个孩子——有双最聪明的眼睛。 后来一些年，对诗来说太吵， 隆隆滚过就像热带的风暴， 那儿，穿过太华丽的光， 那闪过忧虑的天空消失的光， 穿过雷电撕碎的记忆，赤裸裸 躺着整个天空的一片黑色， 可是那一团漆黑依然把光 投射到闪光那银色的翅膀。 因为，当我还是个闲散的稚童， 爱喝美酒，爱读阿那克利翁， 我早就觉得那希腊诗人的诗篇 有时几乎全是情欲和热恋—— 由于他脑子里的炼金奇术 他的欢乐总是变成痛苦—— 天真烂漫变成欲望的狂热—— 才智变成爱——美酒变成烈火—— 于是，因为年轻和溺于荒唐 我忧郁伤感地坠入情网， 并常常把我的宁静和安谧 漫不经心地全都抛弃—— 我不能爱，除非死神自己 把他的气息与美的气息混在一起—— 或婚姻之神、时间和命运女神 在她与我之间正悄悄地走近。 哦，后来那不朽的秃鹰世纪 如此地震荡那高高天空， 当它们喧嚣而过雷声隆隆； 我已无暇沉湎于闲情逸致， 因为得凝望那骚动的苍穹！ 而当一个翅膀更平稳的时辰 猝然降下飞进我的心灵， 用七弦琴和韵律把那片刻 时光消磨——犯清规戒律！ 我的心总觉得是一种罪过 除非它随着琴弦一同颤栗！ 但现在我的灵魂空空荡荡—— 壮观和忧郁都已经消亡—— 那团漆黑早已成熟为灰色， 而所有的火焰都正在熄灭。 我满腔的激情一直都很强烈—— 我曾纵酒狂欢，现在我想安歇—— 而灵魂在酩酊大醉之后 接着又是狂欢的大杯美酒—— 一个无聊而热望的白天和黑夜 在梦想中虚度我自己的岁月。 可梦——那些和我一样热切地 做梦的人的梦，该诅咒，并死去： 但我是否该发誓：我的用意 我唱出如此刺耳的歌的用意 仅仅是为了打破时代的单一， 虽然我走了味的欢乐和忧伤 是枯黄的秋叶，无色无光—— 为什么不能有个灰胡子魔鬼 在我的路上把他的影子摇晃—— 甚至那个灰胡子将在暗处 悄悄地偷读我这本梦书。 （1831） 注释 ①　此诗为《传奇》之修改扩充版，曾作为1931年版《诗集》的序诗。——编者注 To (＂The bowers whereat＂) The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see The wantonest singing birds, Are lips—and all thy melody Of lip-begotten words— Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined Then desolately fall, O God! on my funereal mind Like starlight on a pall— Thy heart—thy heart!—I wake and sigh, And sleep to dream till day Of the truth that gold can never buy— Of the baubles that it may. (1829) 致（“在梦中”） 在梦中，我看见的最放荡的 唱歌的鸟栖息的树荫 全是嘴唇——全是甜言蜜语 出自你那双嘴唇—— 你那被奉祀于心之天堂的眼睛 于是凄凉地落向， 哦，上帝！落向我送葬的心 像照在裹尸布上的星光—— 你的心——你的心！我醒来叹息， 睡下又梦见，直到翌日 梦见那千金难买的忠贞—— 梦见它也许华而不实。 （1829） To The River Fair river! in thy bright clear flow Of crystal, wandering water, Thou art an emblem of the glow Of beauty—the unhidden heart— The playful maziness of art In old Alberto's daughter; But when within thy wave she looks— Which glistens, then, and trembles— Why, then, the prettiest of brooks Her worshipper resembles; For in his heart, as in thy stream, Her image deeply lies— His heart which trembles at the beam Of her soul-searching eyes. (1828) 致河 美丽的河！在你水晶般清净 的水中，流淌的水 是美之光辉的一种象征 那毫无遮掩的心胸—— 那顽皮的艺术迷宫 在老阿尔伯托女儿心内；① 但当她凝视你的碧波—— 当碧波粼粼，涟漪阵阵—— 那为什么，最美丽的河 像是崇拜她的那人 因为在他心里，如在你水上 深深印着她的倩影—— 他的心对着她穿透灵魂的目光 也会泛起涟漪阵阵。 （1828） 注释 ①　老阿尔伯托女儿的心喻纯洁的心。老阿尔伯托的女儿名叫比安莎，是英国剧作家鲍蒙特和弗莱彻合著的喜剧《旅店的漂亮女仆》（The Fair Maid of the Inn，1647）中的人物，她在剧中是位美丽而贞洁的姑娘。——译者注 To (＂I heed not＂) I heed not that my earthly lot Hath—little of Earth in it— That years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute:—I mourn not that the desolate Are happier, sweet, than I, But that you sorrow for my fate Who am a passer by. (1829) 致（“我不在乎”） 我不在乎我尘世的命运 只有——少许的尘缘—— 我不在乎我多年的爱情 被忘却在恨的瞬间：—— 我不悲叹我孤寂的爱人 生活得比我快活， 但我悲叹你为我而伤心 我仅仅是一名过客。 （1829） Fairy Land Sit down beside me, Isabel, Here, dearest, where the moonbeam fell Just now so fairy-like and well. Now thou art dress'd for paradise! I am star-stricken with thine eyes! My soul is lolling on thy sighs! Thy hair is lifted by the moon Like flowers by the low breath of June! Sit down, sit down—how came we here? Or is it all but a dream, my dear? You know that most enormous flower— That rose—that what d'ye call it—that hung Up like a dog-star in this bower— To-day (the wind blew, and) it swung So impudently in my face, So like a thing alive you know, I tore it from its pride of place And shook it into pieces—so Be all ingratitude requited. The winds ran off with it delighted, And, thro' the opening left, as soon As she threw off her cloak, yon moon Has sent a ray down with a tune. And this ray is a fairy ray— Did you not say so, Isabel? How fantastically it fell With a spiral twist and a swell, And over the wet grass rippled away With a tinkling like a bell! In my own country all the way We can discover a moon ray Which thro' some tatter'd curtain pries Into the darkness of a room, Is by (the very source of gloom) The motes, and dust, and flies, On which it trembles and lies Like joy upon sorrow! O, when will come the morrow? Isabel! do you not fear The night and the wonders here? Dim vales! and shadowy floods! And cloudy-looking woods Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons—see! wax and wane Again—again—again— Every moment of the night— Forever changing places! How they put out the starlight With the breath from their pale faces! Lo! one is coming down With its centre on the crown Of a mountain's eminence! Down—still down—and down— Now deep shall be—O deep! The passion of our sleep! For that wide circumference In easy drapery falls Drowsily over halls— Over ruin'd walls— Over waterfalls, (Silent waterfalls!) O'er the strange woods—o'er the sea— Alas! over the sea! (1831) 仙 境① 在我身边坐下吧，伊莎贝尔， 这儿，亲爱的，刚才有月光如水 那么空灵美妙，那么婵娟娇媚。 现在你穿戴好去仙乡乐土！ 我被你星星般的眼睛迷住！ 我的心慵懒地把你的叹息依附！ 月亮正在剽窃你的秀发 就像六月的微风剽窃鲜花！ 坐下吧，坐下吧——我们如何来到这里？ 或许这不过是一场梦，我亲爱的？ 你知道最最硕大的那朵花—— 那朵玫瑰——你总是那么称呼—— 它曾像颗天狼星在这凉亭悬挂—— 今天（风儿吹，而）它轻浮， 那么轻浮地在我脸上摇晃， 就像你所知道的有生命的东西， 我把它扯下，从它高高的地方， 一阵猛摇使花瓣片片落地—— 忘恩负义就这样得到报酬。 风儿快活地把它卷走， 而从左边空地，当那轮月亮 匆匆脱下披在她身上的衣裳， 便投下一片伴着韵调的月光。 那光是一种仙境的光—— 你说不会那样，伊莎贝尔？ 可它倾泻时是多么奇妙， 以一种螺旋形的光波 像涟漪从湿漉漉的草地掠过， 还伴着一阵铃声， 铮铮！ 在我家乡的任何地方 只能够见到一种月光， 那月光穿透褴褛的窗帘， 偷偷窥视黑洞洞的房间， 照亮（产生忧郁的原因） 尘埃、污垢，还有苍蝇， 它躺在那原因上浑身哆嗦， 就像是忧伤之上的欢乐！ 哦，黎明何时到来？ 伊莎贝尔！你难道不骇然 这夜和这儿的异景奇观？ 冥蒙的溪谷！缥缈的长河！ 烟云如织的平林漠漠， 我们不识其真正的面目 因为漫天滴下茫茫雾珠！ 看呵——那么多巨大的月亮！ 亏亏盈盈——消消长长—— 在每一夜的每一时刻—— 永远变更着它们的位置！ 它们如何使星光黯然失色 用它们苍白脸上的气息！ 瞧！一个月亮正在下降 它那银盘玉轮的中央 在一座高山之顶！ 下降——下降——下降—— 现在会很强——哦，很强！ 我们睡眠的欲望！ 因为那中央的四边 像巨大的帷幔下落 昏昏然罩住厅堂—— 罩住残壁断墙—— 罩住飞流瀑布 （无声的飞流瀑布！） 罩住奇异的森林——罩住海洋—— 天啦！罩住海洋！ （1831） 注释 ①　《仙乡》（见下首）之修改扩充稿。——编者注 Fairy-Land Dim vales—and shadowy floods— And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over Huge moons there wax and wane— Again—again—again— Every moment of the night— Forever changing places— And they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces. About twelve by the moon-dial One more filmy than the rest (A kind which, upon trial, They have found to be the best) Comes down—still down—and down With its centre on the crown Of a mountain's eminence, While its wide circumference In easy drapery falls Over hamlets, over halls, Wherever they may be— O'er the strange woods—o'er the sea— Over spirits on the wing— Over every drowsy thing— And buries them up quite In a labyrinth of light— And then, how deep!—O, deep! Is the passion of their sleep. In the morning they arise, And their moony covering Is soaring in the skies, With the tempests as they toss, Like —— almost any thing— Or a yellow Albatross. They use that moon no more For the same end as before— Videlicet a tent— Which I think extravagant: Its atomies, however, Into a shower dissever, Of which those butterflies, Of Earth, who seek the skies, And so come down again (Never-contented things!) Have brought a specimen Upon their quivering wings. (1829) 仙 乡 冥蒙的溪谷——缥缈的长河—— 烟云如织的平林漠漠， 我们不识其真正的面目， 因为漫天滴下茫茫雾珠， 那儿有许多巨大的月亮！ 亏亏盈盈——消消长长—— 在每一夜的每一时刻—— 永远变更着它们的位置—— 它们如何使星光黯然失色 用它们苍白脸上的气息。 在大约十二个月盘当中 有一个比其他都更朦胧， （这种月亮，经过试验， 他们已发现它最为完善） 下降——下降——下降—— 它那银盘玉轮的中央 在一座高山之巅， 而那金盆的四边 像巨大的帷幔落下 罩住村舍，罩住山崖， 无论穷乡僻壤、边城绝塞—— 罩住奇异的森林——罩住大海—— 罩住正在飞荡的幽魂—— 罩住昏昏欲睡的生灵—— 把世间万物，芸芸众生 静静地掩入光的迷宫—— 于是，多么强！——哦，多强！ 是它们想要安睡的欲望。 当它们清晨一觉醒来， 它们那床月光的被盖 正在高高的天空翱翔， 当它随着风暴摇晃 就像——几乎任何东西—— 或一只黄色的信天翁。 他们不再像从前那样 为那个目的使用月光—— 作为一顶帐篷—— 我认为这是一种奢侈： 不过，它的原子 裂变成了一场阵雨， 从中，这世上的那些蝴蝶， 那些寻觅天空，而又 跌回地面的蝴蝶 （永远不满足的东西） 已经带回了一种标本 在它们哆嗦的翅翼上。 （1829） ＂Alone＂ From childhood's hour I have not been As others were —I have not seen As others saw —I could not bring My passions from a common spring— From the same source I have not taken My sorrow —I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone — And all I lov'd—I lov'd alone — Then—in my childhood—in the dawn Of a most stormy life—was drawn From ev'ry depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still— From the torrent, or the fountain— From the red cliff of the mountain— From the sun that 'round me roll'd In its autumn tint of gold— From the lightning in the sky As it pass'd me flying by— From the thunder, and the storm— And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view— (1829) “孤 独”① 从童年时起我就一直与别人 不一样——我看待世间的事情 与众不同——我从来就不能 从一个寻常的春天获得激情—— 我从不曾从这同一个源泉 得到忧伤——我也不能呼唤 我的心为这同一韵调开怀—— 而我爱的一切——我独自去爱—— 于是——在我的童年——在我的 风雨人生的黎明——我获得， 从每一种善良与邪恶的深处， 那种神秘，它仍然把我束缚—— 从湍湍急流，或粼粼飞泉—— 从山顶那血红的峭壁之巅—— 从那轮绕着我旋转的太阳 当沐浴着它秋日里的金光—— 从横空闪动的银线飞火 当它从我身旁一闪而过—— 从狂风暴雨，从霹雳雷霆—— 从在我眼里千变万化的积云 （当整个天空一片湛蓝） 它变成魔鬼在我眼前—— （1829） 注释 ①　此诗在诗人生前未曾发表，后人发现的手稿上有爱伦·坡的签名，落款日期是1829年3月17日。——译者注 ＂To Isaac Lea＂ It was my choice or chance or curse To adopt the cause for better or worse And with my worldly goods and wit And soul and body worship it. (1829) “致艾萨克·利”① 此乃我之选择或幸运或灾殃 献身于这一非福即祸的理想 用我在这世间的财产和心智 用崇拜这理想的灵魂和肉体。 （1829） 注释 ①　此诗写在爱伦·坡致费城出版商艾萨克·利的一封信中。——编者注 Elizabeth Elizabeth—it surely is most fit (Logic and common usage so commanding) In thy own book that first thy name be writ, Zeno and other sages notwithstanding; And I have other reasons for so doing Besides my innate love of contradiction; Each poet—if a poet—in pursuing The muses thro' their bowers of Truth or Fiction, Has studied very little of his part, Read nothing, written less—in short's a fool Endued with neither soul, nor sense, nor art, Being ignorant of one important rule, Employed in even the theses of the school— Called—I forget the heathenish Greek name— (Called any thing, its meaning is the same) "Always write first things uppermost in the heart." (1829) 伊丽莎白① 伊丽莎白——这当然最为适宜 （逻辑和习惯都那么恰如其分） 在你的书中先写上你自己的名字， 别去理睬芝诺和其他哲人；② 除了我天生喜好针锋相对， 我这么说还有其他的原因； 诗人——假若诗人——当他追随， 追随缪斯穿过她们真或虚的树荫， 而他很少去研究自己的任务， 不读少写——一句话是个白痴 未被赋予灵魂、感觉和艺术 对一条重要法则一无所知， 那条法则甚至是中学生的课题—— 叫做——我忘了异教徒用的希腊名称—— （但不管叫什么，都指同一事情） “永远先写最初闪现在心头的东西。” （1829） 注释 ①　此诗和下一首（《一首离合诗》）均写在爱伦·坡的表妹伊丽莎白·吕贝卡·赫林的相簿里，在爱伦·坡生前均未发表。——编者注 ②　芝诺有句名言：“自己的名字绝不该出现在自己的书中。”——原注（【译者按】芝诺是古希腊哲学家。） An Acrostic Elizabeth it is in vain you say "Love not"—thou sayest it in so sweet a way: In vain those words from thee or L. E. L. Zantippe's talents had enforced so well: Ah! if that language from thy heart arise, Breathe it less gently forth—and veil thine eyes. Endymion, recollect, when Luna tried To cure his love—was cured of all beside— His folly—pride—and passion—for he died. (1829) 一首离合诗① 伊丽莎白，你这么说也是徒然， “不爱”——你说得那么讨人喜欢： 没用，这话出自你或L. E. L.口里，② 桑蒂贝的天才早使它淋漓尽致：③ 啊！假若此言果真发自你内心， 别说得那么温柔——蒙上你的眼睛。 请记住恩底弥翁，当月神试图④ 治愈他的爱——其他一切也被祛除—— 他的愚蠢、骄傲、激情——因为他死去。 （1829） 注释 ①　英诗中的离合诗（acrostic）近似于我国藏头诗一类。本诗和前一首均相当于藏头诗，前者16行每行第一个字母连起来即拼成Elizabeth Rebecca，后者9行的第一个字母连成Elizabeth。译文难传其妙。——译者注 ②　L. E. L.一直被认为是指英国女诗人利蒂希亚·E.兰登（Letitia Elizabeth Landon，1802—1838）。——编者注 ③　桑蒂贝（Zantippe）应为克桑蒂贝（Xanthippe），爱伦·坡这样拼写是因为Elizabeth的第4个字母是Z。克桑蒂贝是古希腊哲学家苏格拉底的少妻，以泼辣任性而著称。——译者注 ④　恩底弥翁是希腊神话中的美少年，相传月神阿耳忒弥斯使他长眠于山洞，以便经常去偷吻他。——译者注 ＂Lines on Joe Locke＂ As for Locke, he is all in my eye, May the d——l right soon for his soul call. He never was known to lie— In bed at a reveillé "roll-call." John Locke was a notable name; Joe Locke is a greater; in short, The former was well known to fame, But the latter's well known "to report." (1830) “咏乔·洛克”① 说到洛克，他是我眼前的一切 但愿魔鬼很快就会召他的灵魂。 从来无人知晓他在床上安歇—— 当起床号吹响，“列队报名”。 约翰·洛克是一个响亮的名字② 简单说，乔·洛克这个名字更俏， 前者不过因名气而为人熟知， 可后者却为“报告”所知道。 （1830） 注释 ①　洛克中尉是爱伦·坡上西点军校时的上司，是一名为严肃纪律而不知疲劳的教官。这首讽刺诗也透露了爱伦·坡最终离开军校的原因。——译者注 ②　指英国哲学家约翰·洛克（John Locke，1632—1704）。——译者注 To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicéan 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! (1831) 致海伦① 海伦，你的美丽对于我， 就像昔日尼斯安的小船， 在芳菲的大海轻轻颠簸， 载着精疲力竭的流浪汉 驶向他故乡的岸边。 早已习惯漂泊在汹涌的海上， 你堇色的秀发，典雅的容颜 和仙女般的风姿已令我知详 何谓希腊的华美壮观， 何谓罗马的宏伟辉煌。 瞧！在那明亮的壁龛窗里， 我看你玉立多像尊雕塑， 那镶嵌玛瑙的明灯在手！ 啊，普叙赫，你来自圣地，② 那片天国净土！ （1831） 注释 ①　爱伦·坡写过两首《致海伦》。前一首发表于1831年，诗中的海伦是爱伦·坡少年时暗恋过的简·斯坦纳德（Mrs. Jane Stith Stanard）。斯坦纳德夫人是爱伦·坡的同学罗伯特·斯坦纳德的母亲，她端庄美丽，成了少年爱伦·坡心中美的偶像。1824年4月，31岁的斯坦纳德夫人病故，爱伦·坡为此非常伤心，其后很长一段时间他神思恍惚，常做噩梦，而且多次在夜里到斯坦纳德夫人坟头哭泣。这种“失美之痛”使他写出了第一首《致海伦》。后一首《致海伦》发表于1848年，诗中的海伦指女诗人萨拉·海伦·惠特曼（Sarah Helen Whitman），爱伦·坡曾于当年向她求过婚。——译者注 ②　普叙赫（Psyche）在希腊神话中是人灵魂的化身，爱神厄洛斯为她的美貌所倾倒并最终娶她为妻。她在艺术作品中通常被描绘成有蝴蝶翅膀的少女。——译者注 Israfel And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures. —KORAN. In Heaven a spirit doth dwell "Whose heart-strings are a lute;" None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy stars (so legends tell) Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice, all mute. Tottering above In her highest noon, The enamoured moon Blushes with love, While, to listen, the red levin (With the rapid Pleiads, even, Which were seven,) Pauses in Heaven. And they say (the starry choir And the other listening things) That Israfeli's fire Is owing to that lyre By which he sits and sings— The trembling living wire Of those unusual strings. But the skies that angel trod, Where deep thoughts are a duty— Where Love's a grown-up God— Where the Houri glances are Imbued with all the beauty Which we worship in a star. Therefore, thou art not wrong, Israfeli, who despisest An unimpassioned song; To thee the laurels belong, Best bard, because the wisest! Merrily live, and long! The ecstacies above With thy burning measures suit— Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love, With the fervour of thy lute— Well may the stars be mute! Yes, Heaven is thine; but this Is a world of sweets and sours; Our flowers are merely—flowers, And the shadow of thy perfect bliss Is the sunshine of ours. If I could dwell Where Israfel Hath dwelt, and he where I, He might not sing so wildly well A mortal melody, While a bolder note than this might swell From my lyre within the sky. (1831) 以色拉费 天使以色拉费， 其心弦乃一柄诗琴， 在神的造物之中， 他的声音最美。 ——《可兰经》 有一位天使住在天上 “他的心弦是一柄诗琴”； 无人歌唱得如此激昂 像天使以色拉费一样 就连轻佻的星星（传说如此） 也停下它们的赞歌，聆神屏息 听他动人的歌声。 那轮正摇摇晃晃 高悬于夜幕中天 听得入迷的月盘 因爱而羞红脸庞， 而那彤红的闪电 （与普勒阿得斯为伴， 即那姊妹七星，） 也停在天庭。 它们说（那些星星 和其他的倾听者） 以色拉费的激情 都因为那柄竖琴 他坐着抚琴而歌—— 因为那些非凡的金线， 因为栩栩颤动的琴弦。 但在天使来去的天宇， 深刻的思想是一种使命—— 爱神是一位成年神—— 天堂美女顾盼的目光 也浸透全部美的神韵 就像我们崇拜的星光。 所以哟，你没有错， 以色拉费，你藐视 一首不动情的歌； 那桂冠属于你哟， 最佳歌手，因你的才智！ 快活吧，快活地生活！ 九天之上的欣喜若狂 与你燃烧的韵律相称—— 你的爱情、欢乐与忧伤 也适合你那诗琴的热诚—— 愿星星寂然无声！ 不错，天国属于你；可是 这凡尘有甘甜也有苦辣； 我们的鲜花仅仅是——花， 而你那极乐至福的影子 于我们就是太阳的光华。 如果我能居住 在以色拉费之处 而让他住到我的地方， 他也许不会把一曲凡调俗谱 唱得那么激昂， 可一支更狂放的歌将会飞出， 从我的竖琴飞上天堂。 （1831） The Sleeper At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. An opiate vapour, dewy, dim, Exhales from out her golden rim, And, softly dripping, drop by drop, Upon the quiet mountain top, Steals drowsily and musically Into the universal valley. The rosemary nods upon the grave; The lily lolls upon the wave; Wrapping the fog about its breast, The ruin moulders into rest; Looking like Leth?, see! the lake A conscious slumber seems to take, And would not, for the world, awake. All Beauty sleeps!—and lo! where lies Iren?, with her Destinies! Oh, lady bright! can it be right— This window open to the night? The wanton airs, from the tree-top, Laughingly through the lattice drop— The bodiless airs, a wizard rout, Flit through thy chamber in and out, And wave the curtain canopy So fitfully—so fearfully— Above the closed and fringéd lid 'Neath which thy slumb'ring soul lies hid, That, o'er the floor and down the wall, Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall! Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear? Why and what art thou dreaming here? Sure thou art come o'er far-off seas, A wonder to these garden trees! Strange is thy pallor! strange thy dress! Strange, above all, thy length of tress, And this all solemn silentness! The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep, Which is enduring, so be deep! Heaven have her in its sacred keep! This chamber changed for one more holy, This bed for one more melancholy, I pray to God that she may lie Forever with unopened eye, While the pale sheeted ghosts go by! My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep, As it is lasting, so be deep! Soft may the worms about her creep! Far in the forest, dim and old, For her may some tall vault unfold— Some vault that oft hath flung its black And wingéd pannels fluttering back, Triumphant, o'er the crested palls, Of her grand family funerals— Some sepulchre, remote, alone, Against whose portal she hath thrown, In childhood, many an idle stone— Some tomb from out whose sounding door She ne'er shall force an echo more, Thrilling to think, poor child of sin! It was the dead who groaned within. (1831) 睡美人 在融融六月，夜半之时， 我在神秘的月下伫立。 一股催眠的迷蒙雾霭 从她的金轮漫溢出来， 一滴一滴，轻轻地滴淌， 滴淌在静谧的高山之上， 优雅和谐，蹑手蹑足 偷偷溜进旷荡的深谷。 迷迭香在坟头昏昏欲睡； 百合花慵懒地倚波靠水； 将浓云密雾搂在怀中 废墟也坠入沉沉幽梦； 看哟！那湖就像是忘川， 仿佛沉浸在清醒的安眠， 怎样看也不会睁开睡眼。 美都在沉睡——瞧！那边 躺着伊蕾娜，伴着她的命运！ 哦，美丽的姑娘！这是否妥当—— 朝夜晚敞开你那扇小窗？ 让飘忽不定的微风从树桠 笑盈盈地穿过那道窗纱—— 那无形的风，像一个男巫 从你的卧室飞进飞出， 轻轻掀起你床头的帷幔， 一阵一阵——令人毛骨悚然—— 蹿上那封闭而镶边的穹顶， 穹顶下安睡着你的灵魂， 忽而掠过地板，滑过墙壁， 升升降降就像幽灵的影子！ 哦，姑娘，你难道不惊恐？ 你为何睡在这儿，做什么梦？ 你肯定来自远方的大海， 园中树木定为此感到奇怪！ 奇怪你的苍白！奇怪你的衣饰！ 尤其惊异于你那长长的发丝， 而这一切都那么肃穆沉寂！ 姑娘在安睡！哦，我唯愿， 愿她的安睡永远这么酣甜！ 愿上帝接纳她，把她照看！ 把这间卧室变得更加神圣， 把这卧榻变得更使人伤心， 我祈求上帝就让她这样沉睡， 永远不再展露那两汪秋水， 只要她床头还游荡那些魑魅！ 我的爱，她在安睡！哦，我唯愿， 愿她的安睡永远像这般酣甜！ 愿虫豸只能轻轻地爬过她身边！ 愿在远方森林，迷蒙而悠久， 一座高高的墓穴为她开口—— 那墓穴很久以来已经多次 把它黝黑而带翅的方石 成功地抛回有顶饰的棺衣， 由于她大家族的一次次葬礼—— 那一座石墓，孤单而悠久， 她曾经朝它投过许多石头， 向它的墓门，在她童年时候—— 在那墓门有回声的坟茔， 她再不会牵强地解释那回声， 惊恐地认为，有罪的可怜孩子！ 那是死者在墓中发出的呻吟。 （1831） The Valley of Unrest Once it smiled a silent dell Where the people did not dwell; They had gone unto the wars, Trusting to the mild-eyed stars, Nightly, from their azure towers, To keep watch above the flowers, In the midst of which all day The red sun-light lazily lay. Now each visiter shall confess The sad valley's restlessness. Nothing there is motionless— Nothing save the airs that brood Over the magic solitude. Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees That palpitate like the chill seas Around the misty Hebrides! Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven That rustle through the unquiet Heaven Uneasily, from morn till even, Over the violets there that lie In myriad types of the human eye— Over the lilies there that wave And weep above a nameless grave! They wave:—from out their fragrant tops Eternal dews come down in drops. They weep:—from off their delicate stems Perennial tears descend in gems. (1831) 不安的山谷 它曾微笑，一个幽静的山谷， 那儿荒凉冷落，无人居住； 人们都早已去参加战争， 并嘱托目光柔和的星星， 夜夜从它们碧蓝的城堡 把幽谷中的花儿照料， 而在白天，红红的阳光 则懒洋洋地在花间卧躺。 现在每个游客都会承认 那凄凉的山谷并不太平。 山谷中的一切都不平静—— 一切，除了凝滞的空气 笼罩着不可思议的阒寂。 啊，没有风吹动那些树梢， 跳动如冰冷的万顷波涛 环绕在朦胧的赫布里底群岛！ 啊，没有风驱动那些云朵， 如它们飒飒从天上掠过， 骚动不安，从黎明到日落， 如它们在紫罗兰上轻拂， 那些紫罗兰引得万人瞩目—— 如它们在百合花上轻吹， 百合花在无名荒冢摇曳落泪！ 摇曳——从它们芳香的花冠 滴下永恒的露珠一串一串。 落泪——从它们优雅的植株 一滴一滴就像宝石珍珠。 （1831） The City in the Sea Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines and palaces and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) Resemble nothing that is ours. Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. No rays from the holy heaven come down On the long night-time of that town; But light from out the lurid sea Streams up the turrets silently— Gleams up the pinnacles far and free— Up domes—up spires—up kingly halls— Up fanes—up Babylon-like walls— Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers— Up many and many a marvellous shrine Whose wreathéd friezes intertwine The viol, the violet, and the vine. Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. So blend the turrets and shadows there That all seem pendulous in air, While from a proud tower in the town Death looks gigantically down. There open fanes and gaping graves Yawn level with the luminous waves; But not the riches there that lie In each idol's diamond eye— Not the gaily-jewelled dead Tempt the waters from their bed; For no ripples curl, alas! Along that wilderness of glass— No swellings tell that winds may be Upon some far-off happier sea— No heavings hint that winds have been On seas less hideously serene. But lo, a stir is in the air! The wave—there is a movement there! As if the towers had thrust aside, In slightly sinking, the dull tide— As if their tops had feebly given A void within the filmy Heaven. The waves have now a redder glow— The hours are breathing faint and low— And when, amid no earthly moans, Down, down that town shall settle hence, Hell, rising from a thousand thrones, Shall do it reverence. (1831) 海中之城 瞧！死神为他自己竖起了宝座 在一座奇妙的城市，萧森寥落 就在那遥远而迷蒙的西方， 那儿，欢乐与痛苦、邪恶与善良 都早已坠入永恒的梦乡。 那些神龛、宫殿和塔楼 （时间侵蚀的塔楼不再摇晃！） 看起来都不像我们所有。 四周，被消散的风儿遗忘 在苍昊之下如槁木死灰 是一汪忧郁凄清的海水。 从冥冥穹天没有星光月色 洒向这座荒城的漫漫长夜； 只有微光来自苍白的海面 悄然无声地映在角楼塔尖—— 映在尖塔，把四方映遍—— 映在圆顶、尖顶、帝王的厅堂—— 映在圣殿——巴比伦式的粉墙—— 映在早就被遗忘的空 的凉亭 凉亭有石雕的鲜花和青藤—— 映在许多叹为观止的神庙 其萧墙照壁有石刻玉雕 古琴、藤蔓和紫罗兰互相缠绕。 在苍昊之下如槁木死灰 是那汪忧郁凄清的海水。 塔楼和阴影在水中汇融 仿佛一切都悬浮于空中， 而在城中的一座高塔之上 死神正巍然地朝下眺望。 下面，裂开的坟墓和神庙 与微微发光的海面齐高； 但那儿并没有金银财富 在每一尊神像面前展露—— 也没有珠光宝气的死者 想从海底把波涛诱惑； 因为，唉！没有漪澜 泛起在茫茫如镜的海面—— 没有鳞波显示风儿也许 吹拂在远方更幸运的海域—— 没有浪花暗示风儿吹在 静得不那么可怕的大海。 但瞧，天空出现了一阵骚动！ 这海——这海也有了一阵汹涌！ 仿佛那些塔楼正微微下坠 倾泻着插入阴郁的潮水—— 仿佛那些塔尖已经放弃 它们在朦胧天空的位置。 这海此刻有了更红的颜色—— 时间在呼吸，气息微弱—— 而这时，那座城将下沉，下沉， 从此再听不见人世的呻吟。 地狱，从一千个王位上升起， 将对它表示深深的敬意。 （1831） Lenore Ah, broken is the golden bowl!—the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll!—a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river:— And, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear?—weep now or never more! See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore! Come! let the burial rite be read—the funeral song be sung!— An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young— A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young. "Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride; And, when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her—that she died:— How shall the ritual then be read—the requiem how be sung By you—by yours, the evil eye—by yours the slanderous tongue That did to death the innocence that died and died so young?" Peccavimus:—yet rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong! The sweet Lenore hath gone before, with Hope that flew beside, Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride— For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies, The life upon her yellow hair, but not within her eyes— The life still there upon her hair, the death upon her eyes. "Avaunt!—avaunt! to friends from fiends the indignant ghost is riven— From Hell unto a high estate within the utmost Heaven— From moan and groan, to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven:— Let no bell toll, then, lest her soul, amid its hallowed mirth Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damnéd Earth! And I—to night my heart is light:—No dirge will I upraise, But waft the angel on her flight with a P?an of old days!" (1831) 丽诺尔 呵，金碗碎了！——灵魂将永远飘荡！ 让丧钟敲响吧！——一缕芳魂飘在冥河之上—— 你难道无泪？趁现在流吧——我说盖伊德维尔！ 看！在阴森僵硬的尸架上躺着你心爱的丽诺尔！ 来吧！让祈祷文被读——来吧！让安魂曲被唱！—— 一曲赞歌为这女王般的死者，她死得竟这般年轻—— 一曲挽歌为这双重的死者，她死得这般年轻。 “卑鄙的人哟！你们爱她为财富，恨她为其骄傲； 当她病入膏肓，你们把她诅咒——结果她玉殒香消—— 那这篇祈祷文怎能被读——这首安魂曲怎能被唱 被你——你们，被你们诽谤的舌头——邪恶的眼睛， 正是它们害死这天真少女，她死得这么年轻？” 要我们忏悔——别痴人说梦！但让安息日颂歌 庄严肃穆地飘向上帝，好让死者感到安乐！ 漂亮的丽诺尔已经去了，带着化为泡影的希望， 留下你发疯，为这可爱的少女，她本该是你的新娘—— 为这美丽温柔的姑娘，她现在躺在那里不再骄傲， 生命仍荡漾于她那头金发，可不在她眼中闪耀—— 生命仍荡漾于她那头金发，可死亡把眼睛笼罩。 “走开吧！走开！那愤怒的灵魂已离开仇敌去寻友—— 已离开地狱去高高的天国，去最高的尽头—— 离开呻吟呜咽去到上帝身边一个黄金的宝座—— 所以别敲丧钟，让她的灵魂享受神圣的欢乐， 别让那钟声从这该诅咒的尘世飘进她的耳朵！ 至于我——今宵我心儿轻松——挽歌我不会唱， 但我要让一首昔日的赞歌伴着那位天使飞翔！” （1831） To One in Paradise Thou wast that all to me, love, For which my soul did pine— A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out the Future cries, "On! on!"—but o'er the Past (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast! For, alas! alas! with me The light of Life is o'er! No more—no more—no more— (Such language holds the solemn sea To the sands upon the shore) Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree, Or the stricken eagle soar! And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams Are where thy grey eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams— In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams. (1833) 致乐园中的一位① 你于我曾是一切，我的爱， 我的灵魂曾把你慕恋—— 海中的一个绿岛，我的爱， 一泓清泉，一座神龛， 那一切都被仙果奇花环绕， 所有的花都为我吐艳。 呵，梦太美就难以做长！ 呵，灿烂希望也曾上升 但终又被乌云遮挡！ 呼喊，一个来自未来的声音， “向前！向前！”——但在过去之上 （黑暗深渊）徘徊着我的心， 无言，静止，恓惶！ 因为，于我，唉！唉！ 早熄灭了那团生命之光！ 无常——无常——无常—— （这种语言把庄严的大海 阻止在海岸的沙滩上） 雷击的树再不会繁华绚烂， 受伤的鹰再不会展翅翱翔！ 现在我的白天全是梦境， 而我夜间所有的梦 都是你闪耀的灰色眼睛， 都是你纤足的移动—— 在多美的永恒的河滨， 在多缥缈的舞步之中。 （1833） 注释 ①　此诗略微修改的一个版本又见于爱伦·坡次年发表的小说《幽会》。——译者注 Hymn At morn—at noon—at twilight dim— Maria! thou hast heard my hymn! In joy and wo—in good and ill— Mother of God, be with me still! When the Hours flew brightly by, And not a cloud obscured the sky, My soul, lest it should truant be, Thy grace did guide to thine and thee; Now, when storms of Fate o'ercast Darkly my Present and my Past, Let my Future radiant shine With sweet hopes of thee and thine! (1833) 赞 歌① 在黎明，在正午，在黄昏日落， 玛利亚！你一直听到我的赞歌！ 无论幸与不幸，无论欢乐悲哀， 上帝之母哟，请与我同在！ 趁着这祈祷圣时尚未消逝， 趁着天空还没被乌云遮蔽， 为使我的灵魂不误入歧途 你的仁慈曾一直为它引路； 可既然命运的暴风骤雨 遮暗了我的现在和过去， 请你让我的未来灿灿发光， 随你温柔的希望一道辉煌！ （1833） 注释 ①　爱伦·坡曾将这首赞歌嵌入他的小说《莫雷娜》（1835）。——译者注 Enigma The noblest name in Allegory's page, The hand that traced inexorable rage; A pleasing moralist whose page refined, Displays the deepest knowledge of the mind; A tender poet of a foreign tongue, (Indited in the language that he sung.) A bard of brilliant but unlicensed page At once the shame and glory of our age, The prince of harmony and stirling sense, An ancient dramatist of eminence, The bard that paints imagination's powers, And him whose song revives departed hours, Once more an ancient tragic bard recall, In boldness of design surpassing all. These names when rightly read, a name known Which gathers all their glories in its own. (1833) 谜① 寓言史上那个最高贵的名字， 那描写无情愤怒的大家手笔； 辞章优美令人喜欢的道德家， 他能把最深刻的心智阐发； 一名用异国语言的温情诗人 （用他歌唱的语言写诗作文）。 一位天才诗人但放纵的侍从 我们这个世纪的耻辱和光荣， 那和谐与崇高意识的王子，② 一名卓越的古代戏剧大师， 那位描绘想象魔力的歌手， 和他，他的歌能使光阴倒流， 再想想一位昔日的悲剧诗人， 他构思之大胆超凡绝伦。 若猜出这些人，便知另一个名字 把他们的荣耀全都聚于他自己。 （1833） 注释 ①　这首谜诗连一般操英语的读者也难猜透。这16行诗暗指11位著名诗人或作家，如第1行指斯宾塞，第2行指荷马，第3—4行指亚里士多德……第7—8行指雪莱……第10行指欧里庇德斯，等等。将这11位诗人作家英文名字的首字母连在一起又拼出莎士比亚的名字。——译者注 ②　“崇高意识”原文作stirling sense，stirling应为sterling之异体。——译者注 Serenade So sweet the hour—so calm the time, I feel it more than half a crime When Nature sleeps and stars are mute, To mar the silence ev'n with lute. At rest on ocean's brilliant dies An image of Elysium lies: Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven, Form in the deep another seven: Endymion nodding from above Sees in the sea a second love: Within the valleys dim and brown, And on the spectral mountains' crown The wearied light is lying down: And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky Are redolent of sleep, as I Am redolent of thee and thine Enthralling love, my Adeline. But list, O list!—so soft and low Thy lover's voice to night shall flow That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem My words the music of a dream. Thus, while no single sound too rude, Upon thy slumber shall intrude, Our thoughts, our souls—O God above! In every deed shall mingle, love. (1833) 小夜曲 这时分多静——这时辰多美， 我觉得这几乎是一种犯罪： 当大自然安眠，星星无声 竟用琵琶来打破夜的宁静。 安眠在无限的灿烂之日 极乐世界的一个影子： 在天上出神的普勒阿得斯姐妹 呈七星在深远处排列定位： 在高处打盹儿的恩底弥翁 梦见另一个爱人在海中： 在幽暗昏黄的溪谷深涧， 在鬼影朦胧的高山之巅 那困乏的光正躺下安眠： 星星、天空、海洋、大地 全都弥漫着睡眠的气息， 正如你正弥漫于我的心， 迷人的艾德琳，我的爱人。 但听哟，听哟！——这般轻柔 你爱人的歌声将在今宵漂流， 不会把你唤醒，你会以为 我的歌是你梦中的音乐飘飞。 这样，没有一个音符太重， 不会惊扰你安稳的睡梦， 我们的思绪，我们的灵魂——啊，上帝！ 将真正地相爱，将融合在一起。 （1833） The Coliseum Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary Of lofty contemplation left to Time By buried centuries of pomp and power! At length—at length—after so many days Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst, (Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,) I kneel, an altered and an humble man, Amid thy shadows, and so drink within My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory! Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld! Silence! and Desolation, and dim Night! I feel ye now—I feel ye in your strength— O spells more sure than e'er Jud?an king1 Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane! O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee Ever drew down from out the quiet stars! Here, where a hero fell, a column falls! Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold, A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat! Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle! Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled, Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home, Lit by the wan light of the horned moon, The swift and silent lizard of the stones! But stay! these walls—these iry-clad arcades— These mouldering plinths—these sad and blackened shafts— These vague entablatures—this crumbing frieze— These shattered cornices—this wreck—this ruin— These stones—alas! these gray stones—are they all— All of the famed, and the colossal left By the corrosive Hours, to Fate and me? "Not all"—the Echoes answer me—"not all！ "Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever "From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise, "As melody from Memnon to the Sun.1 "We rule the hearts of mightiest men—we rule "With a despotic sway all giant minds. "We are not impotent—we pallid stones. "Not all our power is gone—not all our fame— "Not all the magic of our high renown— "Not all the wonder that encircles us— "Not all the mysteries that in us lie— "Not all the memories that hang upon "And cling around about us as a garment, "Clothing us in a robe of more than glory." (1833) 罗马大圆形竞技场 古罗马的象征！由被埋葬的 浮华和权势的许多个世纪 留给时间去沉思冥想的圣迹！ 终于——终于——经历了那么多天 疲惫的跋涉和燃烧的渴望， （对蕴藏于你的知识之泉的渴望） 我跪下，一个被改变者，一个卑贱者， 在你的阴影中，把你的庄严、忧郁 和荣光啜饮进我焦渴的灵魂！ 浩渺！久远！往昔的回忆！ 沉寂！苍凉！混沌的黑夜！ 我触到了你们——触到了你们的力量—— 哦，比犹太王在客西马尼花园① 所宣讲教授的更令人着迷！ 哦，比迦勒底人从神秘的星星 所汲取的魅力更令人销魂！ 这里曾倒下一名勇士，而今圆柱倒下！ 这里，那镀金的雄鹰曾闪闪发光， 而今夜晚收留那黑乎乎的蝙蝠！ 这里，罗马淑女的金发曾在风中飘荡， 而今飘荡的是芦苇和蓟草！ 这里，君王曾懒洋洋地靠在宝座上， 而今，幽灵般滑过他大理石厅堂、 被半轮惨白的新月所照亮的 是石缝中飞速穿出的无声的蜥蜴！ 但等等！这些墙——这些爬满青藤的拱廊—— 这些被侵蚀的柱基——这些黯然发黑的柱身—— 这些模糊的柱顶线盘——这正消失的饰带—— 这些破损的飞檐——这残迹——这废墟—— 这些石头——啊！这些灰色的石头——它们 难道就是昔日宏伟与荣耀的全部 被腐蚀性的岁月留给我与命运？ “不”——回声答复我——“不是全部！ “预言的声音，响亮地，永远升起 “从我们，从全部废墟，传向智者， “就像门农美妙的声音传向太阳。② “我们统治着最强者的心——我们统治 “用专横暴虐，全部伟大的思想。 “我们并不虚弱——我们苍白的石头。 “消失的并非我们全部力量——全部盛名—— “不是我们全部的举世闻名的魔力—— “不是围绕着我们的全部奇观—— “不是蕴藏于我们的全部神秘—— “不是依附于我们的全部记忆， “这些记忆像一件盛装包裹着我们， “一件比壮丽辉煌更华丽的外衣。” （1833） 注释 ①　此处“犹太王”指耶稣。客西马尼花园在耶路撒冷附近，《新约·马太福音》第26章和《新约·马可福音》第14章记述了耶稣在那里与门徒共进晚餐并被犹大出卖之事。——译者注 ②　门农是特洛伊战争中的英雄之一，传说他是晨光女神厄俄斯的儿子。在尼罗河畔有尊门农石像，据说当朝阳照到石像上，石像会发出一种美妙的声音。——译者注 To Fs S.Od Thou wouldst be loved?—then let thy heart From its present pathway part not! Being everything which now thou art, Be nothing which thou art not. So with the world thy gentle ways, Thy grace, thy more than beauty, Shall be an endless theme of praise, And love—a simple duty. (1833) 致Fs S.Od① 你不愿被爱？——那么就让你的心 千万别偏离现在的轨迹！ 你现在所有的都让其永恒， 你现在所没有的别去尝试。 这样与这世界一道，你的温和， 你的优雅，你超凡的美丽， 将成为一曲永远唱不完的赞歌， 而爱——一份朴素的天职。 （1833） 注释 ①　F——s S.O——d指弗朗西斯·萨金特·奥斯古德（Frances Sargent Osgood，1811—1850），她是曾为爱伦·坡画过肖像的一名画家的妻子，同时也是一名诗人。下一首《致F——》和后文的《赠——的情人节礼物》也是为奥斯古德夫人而作。——编者注 To F Beloved! amid the earnest woes That crowd around my earthly path— (Drear path, alas! where grows Not even one lonely rose)— My soul at least a solace hath In dreams of thee, and therein knows An Eden of bland repose. And thus thy memory is to me Like some enchanted far-off isle In some tumultuous sea— Some ocean throbbing far and free With storms—but where meanwhile Serenest skies continually Just o'er that one bright island smile. (1835) 致F 心爱的！被充满我人生路上 的最真实的悲哀包围—— （凄凉的路，天啦！在路旁 甚至没有一朵玫瑰花开放）—— 我的心终于有了安慰 在梦见你时，在梦中我知详 一个被叫做伊甸的温柔之乡。 于是你在我的记忆中 犹如远方的一座魔岛 屹立在大海的澎湃汹涌—— 那大海处处被暴风雨掀动—— 可就在那里，当风急浪高， 却有最最晴朗的天空 依然在那美丽的小岛上微笑。 （1835） Bridal Balled The ring is on my hand, And the wreath is on my brow; Satins and jewels grand Are all at my command, And I am happy now. And my lord he loves me well; But, when first he breathed his vow, I felt my bosom swell— For the words rang as a knell, And the voice seemed his who fell In the battle down the dell, And who is happy now. But he spoke to re-assure me, And he kissed my pallid brow, While a reverie came o'er me, And to the church-yard bore me, And I sighed to him before me, (Thinking him dead D'Elormie, ) "Oh, I am happy now!" And thus the words were spoken; And this the plighted vow; And, though my faith be broken, And, though my heart be broken, Here is a ring, as token That I am happy now!— Behold the golden token That proves me happy now! Would God I could awaken! For I dream I know not how, And my soul is sorely shaken Lest an evil step be taken,— Lest the dead who is forsaken May not be happy now. (1837) 新婚小调 戒指套在了指间， 花冠套在了头额； 漂亮的珠宝绸缎， 都那么闪光耀眼， 我现在非常快活。 我丈夫爱我很深； 但当他初次许诺， 我感到心绪不宁—— 因那诺言如钟声， 而嗓音也像那人 他在战斗中牺牲， 他现在非常快活。 但是他把我安慰， 吻我苍白的前额， 趁我正想入非非， 载我到教堂院内， 我对他报以叹喟， （把他当死去的洛梅） “哦，我现在很快活！” 话儿就这么出口； 诺言已覆水难收； 尽管我信念已碎， 尽管我心儿已碎， 可戒指套在指头， 表明我现在快活！—— 看金戒指在指头， 证明我现在快活！ 愿上帝让我清醒！ 我梦而不知为何， 我的心剧烈颤震 唯恐失足成长恨，—— 唯恐被弃的亡灵 他现在会不快活。 （1837） Sonnet—To Zante Fair isle, that from the fairest of all flowers, Thy gentlest of all gentle names dost take! How many memories of what radiant hours At sight of thee and thine at once awake! How many scenes of what departed bliss! How many thoughts of what entombéd hopes! How many visions of a maiden that is No more—no more upon thy verdant slopes! No more! alas, that magical sad sound Transforming all! Thy charms shall please no more— Thy memory no more! Accurséd ground Henceforth I hold thy flower-enamelled shore, O hyacinthine isle! O purple Zante! "Isola d'oro! Fior di Levante!" (1837) 十四行诗致桑特岛① 美丽的岛，从最美丽的花中， 你选择了这个最温柔的名字！ 一看见你的倩影便即刻唤醒 多少灿烂辉煌的往昔的回忆！ 多少早已逝去的欢乐的场景！ 多少早被埋葬的希望的思索！ 多少那位少女她可爱的身影—— 一去不返，别了你绿的山坡！ 一去不返哟！那神秘的悲吼 改变一切！你将不再有魅力—— 将不再有人怀念！从今以后 我视你花的海岸为诅咒之地。 哦，风信子岛！紫色的芳华！ “黄金之岛！黎凡特的鲜花！”② （1837） 注释 ①　指爱奥尼亚群岛之扎金索斯岛。——编者注 ②　借用夏多布里昂的措词，夏多布里昂在他的《从巴黎到耶路撒冷旅行记》中曾用“黄金之岛”（Isola d'oro）和“黎凡特的鲜花”（Fior di Levante）来赞美桑特岛。——编者注 The Haunted Palace In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace— Radiant palace—reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion— It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair! Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow— (This—all this—was in the olden Time long ago) And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A wingéd odor went away. Wanderers in that happy valley, Through two luminous windows, saw Spirits moving musically, To a lute's well-tunéd law, Round about a throne where, sitting, Porphyrogene, In state his glory well befitting The ruler of the realm was seen. And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king. But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch's high estate. (Ah, let us mourn!—for never morrow Shall dawn upon him, desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed. And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the encrimsoned windows see Vast forms that move fantastically To a discordant melody, While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door A hideous throng rush out forever And laugh—but smile no more. (1839) 闹鬼的宫殿① 在我们最绿的山谷之间 那儿曾住有善良的天使， 曾有座美丽庄严的宫殿—— 金碧辉煌，巍然屹立。 在思想国王的统辖之内—— 那宫阙岧岧直插天宇！ 就连长着翅膀的撒拉费 也没见过宫殿如此美丽！ 金黄色的旗幡光彩夺目， 在宫殿的屋顶漫卷飘扬—— （这一切——都踪影全无， 已是很久以前的时光） 那时连微风也爱嬉戏， 在那甜蜜美好的年岁， 沿着宫殿的粉墙白壁， 带翅的芳香隐隐飘飞。 当年流浪者来到这山谷， 能透过两扇明亮的窗口， 看见仙女们翩翩起舞， 伴和着诗琴的旋律悠悠， 婆娑曼舞围绕一个王位， 上坐降生于紫气的国君， 堂堂皇皇，他的荣耀光辉 与所见的帝王完全相称。 珍珠和红宝石熠熠闪光 装点着宫殿美丽的大门， 从宫门终日飘荡，飘荡， 总是飘来一阵阵回声， 一对对厄科穿门而出，② 她们的任务就是赞美， 用优美的声音反反复复 赞美国王的英明智慧。 但是邪恶，身披魔袍， 侵入了国王高贵的领地。 （呜呼哀哉！——让我们哀悼， 不幸的君王没有了翌日！） 过去御园的融融春色， 昔日王家的万千气象， 现在不过是依稀的传说， 早已被悠悠岁月淡忘。 而今旅游者走进山谷， 透过那些鲜红的窗口， 会看见许多影子般的怪物 伴着不和谐的旋律飘游， 同时，像一条湍急的小河， 从那道苍白阴森的宫门， 可怕的一群不断地穿过， 不见笑颜——只闻笑声。 （1839） 注释 ①　这首诗又见于爱伦·坡同年发表的小说《厄舍府之倒塌》。法国作曲家施米特（Florent Schmitt，1870—1958）于1904年根据此诗创作了同名练习曲（Le palais hanté，作品编号49）。——译者注 ②　厄科（Echo），希腊神话中的神女，回声的化身。——译者注 Sonnet—Silence There are some qualities—some incorporate things, That have a double life, which thus is made A type of that twin entity which springs From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade. There is a two-fold Silence—sea and shore— Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places, Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces, Some human memories and tearful lore, Render him terrorless: his name's "No More." He is the corporate Silence: dread him not! No power hath he of evil in himself; But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!) Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf, That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod No foot of man,) commend thyself to God! (1839) 十四行诗静 有某些质——某些无形体的东西， 具有双重生命，就这样被造成 一种孪生的实体，实体从物质 和光中涌出，在实和虚中证明。 有一种双重的静——大海和海岸—— 灵与肉。独自住在偏僻的地角。 刚被草覆盖；某些庄严的祈祷， 某些含泪的传说和人类的记念 使它不可怕：它叫“永不复焉”。 它就是无形体的静：请别吃惊！ 它本身并不具有伤害人的力量； 但假若命运（不济的命运！） 让你把它的影子（精灵）碰上， （无名精灵所呆之处人迹罕至） 那就请你把你自己托付给上帝！ （1839） The Conqueror Worm Lo! 'tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low, And hither and thither fly— Mere puppets they, who come and go At bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro, Flapping from out their Condor wings Invisible Wo! That motley drama—oh, be sure It shall not be forgot! With its Phantom chased for ever more, By a crowd that seize it not, Through a circle that ever returneth in To the self-same spot, And much of Madness, and more of Sin, And Horror the soul of the plot. But see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs The mimes become its food, And seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued. Out—out are the lights—out all! And, over each quivering form, The curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm, While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, "Man," And its hero the Conqueror Worm. (1843) 征服者爬虫① 瞧！这是个喜庆之夜 在最近这些寂寞的年头！ 一群天使，收拢翅膀， 遮好面纱，掩住泪流， 坐在一个剧场，观看 一出希望与恐怖之剧， 此时乐队间间断断 奏出天外之曲。 装扮成上帝的一群小丑， 叽叽咕咕，自言自语， 从舞台这头飞到那头—— 他们只是木偶，来来去去 全由许多无形物支配， 无形物不断把场景变换， 从它们秃鹰的翅膀内 拍出看不见的灾难！ 那出杂剧——哦，请相信 将不会被人遗忘！ 因为那些抓不住幻想的人 永远都在追求幻想， 因为一个永远旋转的怪圈 最后总是转回原处， 因为情节之灵魂多是罪愆， 充满疯狂，充满恐怖。 可看哟，就在那群小丑之中 闯进了一个蠕动的怪物！ 那可怕的怪物浑身血红， 从舞台角落扭动而出！ 它扭动——扭动！真是可怕， 小丑都成了它的美餐， 天使们呜咽，见爬虫毒牙 正把淋淋人血浸染。 熄灭——熄灭——熄灭灯光！ 罩住每一个哆嗦的影子， 大幕像一块裹尸布一样， 倏然落下像暴风骤雨， 这时脸色苍白的天使， 摘下面纱，起身，肯定 这是一幕叫《人》的悲剧， 而主角是那征服者爬虫。 （1843） 注释 ①　这首诗后来被爱伦·坡嵌入其小说《丽姬娅》1845年修改稿。美国作曲家弗朗茨·博恩沙因（Franz Bornschein，1879—1948）于1935年根据这首诗创作了乐队或钢琴伴奏女声三声部合唱曲《征服者爬虫》。——译者注 Dream-Land By a route obscure and lonely, Haunted by ill angels only, Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, On a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands but newly From an ultimate dim Thule — From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, Out of SPACE—out of TIME. Bottomless vales and boundless floods, And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods, With forms that no man can discover For the tears that drip all over; Mountains toppling evermore Into seas without a shore; Seas that restlessly aspire, Surging, unto skies of fire; Lakes that endlessly outspread Their lone waters—lone and dead,— Their still waters—still and chilly With the snows of the lolling lily. By the lakes that thus outspread Their lone waters, lone and dead,— Their sad waters, sad and chilly With the snows of the lolling lily,— By the mountains—near the river Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,— By the grey woods,—by the swamp Where the toad and the newt encamp,— By the dismal tarns and pools Where dwell the Ghouls,— By each spot the most unholy— In each nook most melancholy,— There the traveller meets, aghast, Sheeted Memories of the Past— Shrouded forms that start and sigh As they pass the wanderer by— White-robed forms of friends long given, In agony, to the Earth—and Heaven. For the heart whose woes are legion 'Tis a peaceful, soothing region— For the spirit that walks in shadow 'Tis—oh 'tis an Eldorado! But the traveller, travelling through it, May not—dare not openly view it; Never its mysteries are exposed To the weak human eye unclosed; So wills its King, who hath forbid The uplifting of the fringéd lid; And thus the sad Soul that here passes Beholds it but through darkened glasses. By a route obscure and lonely, Haunted by ill angels only, Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, On a black throne reigns upright, I have wandered home but newly From this ultimate dim Thule. (1844) 梦 境 在一条阴暗孤寂的路旁， 只有坏天使常去常住， 那儿有个名叫夜晚的幽灵， 在黑色的王位上发号施令， 我已经到家，但我刚刚 去过一个最最混沌的地方—— 那里荒凉萧瑟，充满惊人的怪诞， 超越了空间——超越了时间。 无底的山谷，无边的洪波， 巨大的森林，岩洞和沟壑， 它们的形状无人能发现， 因为到处有雾珠弥漫； 群山始终是摇摇欲坠， 坠进没有海岸的海水； 海水永远在上升涌动， 涌向火焰一般的天空； 大湖浩渺，无边无际， 湖水凄清——凄清而死寂，—— 忧伤的水——平静而冰凉， 百合花懒洋洋地依在湖旁。 在那些湖畔，湖无边无际， 湖水凄清，凄清而死寂，—— 忧伤的水，忧伤而冰凉， 百合花懒洋洋地依在湖旁，—— 在群山脚下——那条河附近， 河水汩汩淙淙，潺潺有声，—— 在森林之旁——在沼泽之滨， 那儿有蟾蜍和蝾螈扎营，—— 在阴惨的池塘和山中小湖， 那儿常有食尸鬼居住，—— 在每一个最不圣洁的场所 在每一个最最阴郁的角落，—— 旅行者会吃惊地不期而遇 裹着尸衣的过去的记忆—— 裹尸衣的身影惊诧，喟叹 当他们走过流浪者身边 白袍朋友的身影早已被托付， 在痛苦中，给了天堂——给了黄土。 对于那充满悲哀的心 那地方有一种安慰和宁静—— 对于走在阴影中的灵魂 那是——哦，那是个理想的仙境！ 但对于旅行者，当穿行其间， 不可——也不敢直眼相看； 它的神秘永远也不会展露 给软弱的世人尚未闭的眼目； 它的国王希望如此，他已禁止 有睫毛的眼睑高高抬起； 所以，这悲伤的灵魂虽曾涉足， 但所见到的都隔着一层浓雾。 在一条阴暗孤寂的路旁， 只有坏天使常去常住， 那儿有个名叫夜晚的幽灵， 在黑色的王位上发号施令， 我已漂泊回家，但我刚刚 去过一个最最混沌的地方。 （1844） Eulalie I dwelt alone In a world of moan, And my soul was a stagnant tide, Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride— Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride. Ah, less—less bright The stars of the night Than the eyes of the radiant girl! And never a flake That the vapor can make With the morn-tints of purple and pearl, Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl— Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless curl. Now Doubt—now Pain Come never again, For her soul gives me sigh for sigh, And all day long Shines, bright and strong, Astarté within the sky, While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye— While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye. (1844) 尤拉丽 我曾独居 在一个呻吟的世界里， 我的灵魂是一潭死水无波无浪， 直到美丽温柔的尤拉丽成为我羞答答的新娘—— 直到披着金发的年轻的尤拉丽成为我笑盈盈的新娘。 哦，稍逊——光亮稍逊 夜空璀璨耀眼的星星 比起这位美丽姑娘眼睛的光霞！ 绝没有一片水晶 由雾霭所造成 用绛紫色与珍珠色调和的月华， 能比得上淑静的尤拉丽那最被疏忽的卷发—— 能比得上眼睛明亮的尤拉丽那最不常梳理的卷发。 而今，疑惧——痛苦 再也不来光顾， 因为她的灵魂给我渴望之渴望， 而从早到晚 光芒烁烁闪现， 阿斯塔耳忒闪在天上，① 只要可爱的尤拉丽朝她投去她安详的目光—— 只要年轻的尤拉丽朝她投去她紫罗兰色的目光。 （1844） 注释 ①　阿斯塔耳忒是腓尼基人崇拜的女神，在古希腊罗马时代人们往往把她和阿弗洛狄忒（维纳斯）混为一体。——译者注 The Raven Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visiter," 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 sought 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 visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door— Some late visiter 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 stillness 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. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard 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 a minute 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 marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door— Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore." But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered— Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before— On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before." Then the bird said "Nevermore." Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—, Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never—Nevermore.'" But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore— What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore." This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by scraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee —by these angels he hath sent thee Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore; Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the Raven "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!— Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted— On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore— Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!" Quoth the Raven "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore— Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore— Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." Quoth the Raven "Nevermore." "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting — "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven "Nevermore." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted—nevermore! (1845) 乌 鸦 从前一个阴郁的子夜，我独自沉思，慵懒疲竭， 面对许多古怪而离奇，并早已被人遗忘的书卷； 当我开始打盹，几乎入睡，突然传来一阵轻擂， 仿佛有人在轻轻叩击——轻轻叩击我房间的门环。 “有客来也，”我轻声嘟喃，“正在叩击我的门环， 唯此而已，别无他般。” 哦，我清楚地记得那是在风凄雨冷的十二月， 每团奄奄一息的余烬都形成阴影伏在地板。 我当时真盼望翌日——因为我已经枉费心机 想用书来消除伤悲，消除因失去丽诺尔的伤感； 因那位被天使叫做丽诺尔的少女，她美丽娇艳， 在此已抹去芳名，直至永远。 那柔软、暗淡、飒飒飘动的每一块紫色窗布 使我心中充满前所未有的恐惧，我毛骨悚然； 为平息我心儿的悸跳，我站起身反复念叨： “这是有客人想进屋，正在叩我的房间的门环， 更深夜半有客人想进屋，在叩我的房间的门环， 唯此而已，别无他般。” 于是我的心变得坚强；不再犹疑，不再彷徨， “先生，”我说，“或夫人，我求你多多包涵； 刚才我正睡意昏昏，而你敲门又敲得那么轻， 你敲门又敲得那么轻，轻轻叩我房间的门环， 我差点以为没听见你，”说着我打开门扇—— 唯有黑夜，别无他般。 凝视着夜色幽幽，我站在门边惊惧良久， 疑惑中似乎梦见从前没人敢梦见的梦幻； 可那未被打破的寂静，没显示任何象征， “丽诺尔？”便是我嗫嚅念叨的唯一字眼， 我念叨“丽诺尔”，回声把这名字轻轻送还； 唯此而已，别无他般。 我转身回到房中，我的整个心烧灼般疼痛， 很快我又听到叩击声，比刚才听起来明显。 “肯定，”我说，“肯定有什么在我的窗棂； 让我瞧瞧是什么在那儿，去把那秘密发现， 让我的心先镇静一会儿，去把那秘密发现； 那不过是风，别无他般！” 然后我推开了窗户，随着翅膀的一阵猛扑， 一只神圣往昔的乌鸦庄重地走进我房间； 它既没向我致意问候，也没有片刻的停留， 而是以绅士淑女的风度栖到我房门的上面， 栖在我房门上方一尊帕拉斯 半身雕像上面；① 栖息在那儿，仅如此这般。 于是这只黑鸟把我悲伤的幻觉哄骗成微笑， 以它那老成持重一本正经温文尔雅的容颜， “冠毛虽被剪除，”我说，“但你显然不是懦夫， 你这幽灵般可怕的古鸦，漂泊来自夜的彼岸， 请告诉我你尊姓大名，在黑沉沉的夜之彼岸！” 乌鸦答曰“永不复焉”。 听见如此直率的回答，我对这丑鸟感到惊讶， 尽管它的回答不着边际——与提问几乎无关； 因为我们不得不承认，从来没有活着的世人 曾如此有幸地看见一只鸟栖在他房门的上面， 看见鸟或兽栖在他房门上方的半身雕像上面， 而且名叫“永不复焉”。 但那只栖于肃穆的半身雕像上的乌鸦只说了 这一句话，仿佛它倾泻灵魂就用那一个字眼。 然后它便一声不吭——也不把它的羽毛拍动， 直到我几乎在喃喃自语“其他朋友早已离散， 明晨它也将离我而去，如同我的希望已消散。” 这时乌鸦说“永不复焉”。 惊异于屋里的寂静被如此恰当的回话打破， “肯定，”我说，“此话是它唯一会说的人言， 从它不幸的主人口中学来。一连串横祸飞灾 曾接踵而至，直到它主人的歌中有了这字眼， 直到他希望的挽歌中有了这个忧郁的字眼—— 永不复焉，永不复焉。” 但那只乌鸦仍然在骗我悲伤的灵魂露出微笑， 我即刻拖了张软椅到门边雕像下那乌鸦跟前； 然后坐在天鹅绒椅垫上，我开始产生联想， 浮想连着浮想，猜度这不祥的古鸟何出此言， 这只狰狞丑陋可怕不吉不祥的古鸟何出此言， 为何对我说“永不复焉”。 我坐着猜想那意思，但没对乌鸦说片语只言， 此时，它炯炯发光的眼睛已燃烧进我的心坎； 我依然坐在那儿猜度，把我的头靠得很舒服， 舒舒服服地靠着在灯光凝视下的天鹅绒椅垫， 但在这灯光凝视着的紫色的天鹅绒椅垫上面， 她还会靠吗？啊，永不复焉！ 接着我觉得空气变得稠密，被无形香炉熏香， 提香炉的撒拉弗的脚步声响在有簇饰的地板。 “可怜的人，”我叹道，“是上帝派天使为你送药， 这忘忧药能终止你对失去的丽诺尔的思念； 喝吧，喝吧，忘掉你对失去的丽诺尔的思念！” 这时乌鸦说“永不复焉”。 “先知！”我说“恶魔！还是先知，不管是鸟是魔！ 是不是撒旦派你，或是暴风雨抛你，来到此岸， 来到这片妖惑鬼祟但却不惧怕魔鬼的荒原—— 来到这恐怖的小屋——告诉我真话，求你可怜！ 基列有香膏吗？告诉我，告诉我，求你可怜！”② 乌鸦答曰“永不复焉”。 “先知！”我说“恶魔！还是先知，不管是鸟是魔！ 凭着我们都崇拜的上帝——凭着我们头顶的苍天， 请告诉这充满悲伤的灵魂，它能否在遥远的仙境 拥抱一位被天使叫做丽诺尔的少女，她纤尘不染， 拥抱一位被天使叫做丽诺尔的少女，她美丽娇艳。” 乌鸦答曰“永不复焉”。 “让这话做我们的道别辞，鸟或魔！”我起身吼道， “回你的暴风雨中去吧，回你黑沉沉的夜之彼岸！ 别留下你黑色的羽毛作为你灵魂撒过谎的象征！ 留给我完整的孤独！快从我门上的雕像上滚蛋！ 让你的嘴离开我的心；让你的身子离开我房间！” 乌鸦答曰“永不复焉”。 那乌鸦并没飞走，它仍然栖息，仍然栖息 在房门上方那苍白的帕拉斯半身雕像上面； 它的眼光与正在做梦的魔鬼的眼光一模一样， 照在它身上的灯光把它的阴影投射在地板； 而我的灵魂，会从那团在地板上漂浮的阴影中 解脱吗——永不复焉！ （1845） 注释 ①　帕拉斯（Pallas）是智慧女神雅典娜的别名之一。——译者注 ②　“基列有香膏吗？”语出《旧约·耶利米书》第8章第22节：“难道基列没有镇痛香膏吗？难道那里没有治病的医生吗？”——译者注 A Valentine to For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes, Brightly expressive as the twins of L?da, Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader. Search narrowly the lines!—they hold a treasure Divine—a talisman—an amulet That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure— The words—the syllables! Do not forget The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor! And yet there is in this no Gordian knot Which one might not undo without a sabre, If one could merely comprehend the plot. Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing Of poets, by poets—as the name is a poet's, too. Its letters, although naturally lying Like the knight Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando— Still form a synonym for Truth.—Cease trying! You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do. (1846) 赠的情人节礼物① 这首诗专为她而作，她那明亮的双眼， 那如同勒达的双子双星的明眸，② 将发现她自己可爱的名字，半隐半现 在这页纸上，避开了读者探求。 仔细搜寻每一行——其间藏着块宝石—— 是一件吉祥物——是一个护身符， 它必须戴在心里。精心探索这些韵律—— 词汇——音节！请千万不要疏忽 最细微的地方，不然你的辛苦将白搭！ 但这里并没有戈耳狄俄斯之结， 人们要解开那怪结可以用快刀斩乱麻，③ 而你则只能弄懂解此谜的秘诀。 就在这页现在正被眼睛所凝视并写上 了一个闪光灵魂的纸上，潜隐 着三个动人的字眼，而这些字眼常常 被诗人说出或听见——因那芳名 也是位诗人。它的字母，虽排列自然 如平托骑士——门德斯·弗迪南多——④ 仍构成“真”的同义词。请停止实验！ 你解不开这谜，虽你再三琢磨。⑤ （1846） 注释 ①　参见《致F——s S.O——d》脚注。——译者注 ②　勒达是希腊神话传说中的斯巴达王后，宙斯慕其美貌化成天鹅与她相会，勒达因此生一蛋孵出一对双胞胎英雄，这兄弟俩死后被宙斯化为双子星。——译者注 ③　相传马其顿国王亚历山大就用剑斩开了佛律癸亚国王戈耳狄俄斯结的那个解不开的绳结。——译者注 ④　指葡萄牙旅行家门德斯·平托（Fern?o Mendes Pinto，1509—1583），此人爱天花乱坠地吹嘘他的冒险经历，其名后来成了“假”的同义词，这便是诗中“仍构成’真’的同义词”一句的由来。——译者注 ⑤　此诗把奥斯古德夫人的名字嵌在了诗行中，但与前面的《伊丽莎白》和《一首离合诗》嵌法不同，读者得将原文第1行第1个字母、第2行第2个字母、第3行第3个字母（依次类推至第20行第20个字母）连起来才能拼出Frances Sargent Osgood。——译者注 ＂Deep in Earth＂ Deep in earth my love is lying And I must weep alone. (1847) “深眠黄土”① 吾爱深眠黄土， 余唯向隅而泣。 （1847） 注释 ①　这两行诗潦草地写在《尤拉丽》的一份手稿上。爱伦·坡的妻子弗吉尼亚于1847年1月30日病逝，研究者认为这个对句（couplet）是首未写完的悼亡诗的开篇。——译者注 To Miss Louise Olivia Hunter Though I turn, I fly not— I cannot depart; I would try, but try not To release my heart. And my hopes are dying While, on dreams relying, I am spelled by art. Thus the bright snake coiling 'Neath the forest tree Wins the bird, beguiling, To come down and see: Like that bird the lover Round his fate will hover Till the blow is over And he sinks—like me. (1847) 致路易斯·奥利维亚·亨特小姐① 我虽转身，但不会飞离—— 我不能就此分手； 我会尽力，但不会尝试 解除心中的烦忧。 我的希望正在消散 当我依赖于梦幻， 我被艺术迷住。 于是那条漂亮的蛇，② 它一直在树下盘卷， 想把那只鸟诱惑—— 诱它降下来看： 如同那只鸟，那情郎 将围着他的命运翱翔 直到风不再吹荡， 他会落下——像我。 （1847） 注释 ①　此诗在爱伦·坡生前未曾发表，其手稿上标明的写作日期是1847年2月14日。亨特小姐上大学时曾于1845年参加过一次有爱伦·坡担任评委的诗歌竞赛并获奖。——译者注 ②　指艺术。——译者注 To M. L. S Of all who hail thy presence as the morning— Of all to whom thine absence is the night— The blotting utterly from out high heaven The sacred sun—of all who, weeping, bless thee Hourly for hope—for life—ah! above all, For the resurrection of deep-buried faith In Truth—in Virtue—in Humanity— Of all who, on Despair's unhallowed bed Lying down to die, have suddenly arisen At thy soft-murmured words, "Let there be light!" At the soft-murmured words that were fulfilled In the seraphic glancing of thine eyes— Of all who owe thee most—whose gratitude Nearest resembles worship—oh, remember The truest—the most fervently devoted, And think that these weak lines are written by him— By him who, as he pens them, thrills to think His spirit is communing with an angel's. (1847) 致M. L. S① 在所有欢呼你的莅临为破晓的人中—— 在所有视你的离去为黑夜的人中—— 这饥渴者充分吸收那高天之上 神圣的阳光——在所有流着泪，时时 为希望——为生命之复活而感激你的人中—— 啊！这饥渴者感激你，尤其为 被深埋的对真与善的信念的复苏—— 在所有那些人中，他们在绝望的罪孽之床 躺着等死，却突然跃起，因听到 你轻柔的声音，“让那儿有光！”② 因听到你轻柔的声音，那声音应验 在你天使般纯洁的目光之中—— 在所有最受你恩惠——其感激之情 近乎于仰慕之情的人中——哦，请记住 这位最真诚——最热烈的崇拜者， 请记住这些无力的诗行是他写的—— 是他，当他写这些诗行，他激动地感到 他的灵魂正在同一位天使说话。 （1847） 注释 ①　M. L. S.指玛丽·路易斯·休（Marie Louise Shew）。休夫人是名护士，她曾照料病危期间的弗吉尼亚，其后又照料过爱伦·坡本人。爱伦·坡曾直接将落款日期为1847年2月14日的手稿邮寄给休夫人，修改稿于1847年3月13日发表于《家庭杂志》（Home Journal）。——译者注 ②　语出《旧约·创世记》第1章第3节（Let there be light）。——译者注 To (＂Not long ago＂) Not long ago, the writer of these lines, In the mad pride of intellectuality, Maintained "the power of words"—denied that ever A thought arose within the human brain Beyond the utterance of the human tongue; And now, as if in mockery of that boast, Two words—two foreign soft dissyllables— Italian tones made only to be murmured By angels dreaming in the moonlit "dew That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill"— Have stirred from out the abysses of his heart, Unthought-like thoughts that are the souls of thought, Richer, far wilder, far diviner visions Than even the seraph harper, Israfel, Who has "the sweetest voice of all God's creatures," Could hope to utter. And I! my spells are broken. The pen falls powerless from my shivering hand. With thy dear name as text, though bidden by thee, I cannot write—I cannot speak or think, Alas, I cannot feel; for 'tis not feeling, This standing motionless upon the golden Threshold of the wide-open gate of dreams, Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista, And thrilling as I see upon the right, Upon the left, and all the way along Amid enpurpled vapors, far away To where the prospect terminates—thee only. (1848) 致（“曾几何时”）① 曾几何时，写出以下诗行的诗人 还为才智而骄傲，还自以为是， 还坚信“言语的力量”——并否认② 任何产生于人们大脑的思想 会超越人们舌头的表达能力； 而现在，仿佛是对他自负的嘲讽， 两个词——两个柔和的异国双音节词—— 被造就只适宜用意大利声调呢哝， 只适宜那些在月光下的“赫尔蒙山上的 珍珠般的夜露中做梦的天使梦呓”——③ 已经在他的心灵深处涌动， 思想之灵魂的未加深思的思想， 更丰富、更激烈、更神圣的想象， 甚至超过以色拉费的那张竖琴， 尽管他有“神之造物中最美的声音”，④ 希望表达。而我！我的力量被消除。 笔从我颤抖的手中无力地落地。 以你可爱的名字为题，虽由你吩咐， 我不能写——不能说——不能想， 天啦，我不能感觉；因为这不是感觉： 这一动不动地站在敞开的梦幻之门 那黄金铸的门槛上，凝视， 出神地向下凝视那绮丽的景色， 心儿扑扑直跳，当我看向右边， 向左边，在向前延伸的整条路上， 在紫色的雾霭中，在迢迢远方， 在景色消失的天边——只有你。 （1848） 注释 ①　这首诗也是写给玛丽·路易斯·休的。——译者注 ②　爱伦·坡有篇对话体小说即名为《言语的力量》（The Power of Words，1845），该篇借一对恋人亡灵的对话说：“言语有其自然力量，每一个字都对空气有一道脉冲。”——译者注 ③　语出英国剧作家乔治·皮尔（George Peele，1556—1596）的圣经剧《大卫王和美丽的贝斯赛白》。——编者注 ④　参见《以色拉费》题头诗3—4行。——译者注 Ulalume The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crispéd and sere— The leaves they were withering and sere: It was night, in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year: It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir:— It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. Here once, through an alley Titanic, Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul— Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul. These were days when my heart was volcanic As the scoriac rivers that roll— As the lavas that restlessly roll Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek, In the ultimate climes of the Pole— That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek, In the realms of the Boreal Pole. Our talk had been serious and sober, But our thoughts they were palsied and sere— Our memories were treacherous and sere; For we knew not the month was October, And we marked not the night of the year— (Ah, night of all nights in the year!) We noted not the dim lake of Auber, (Though once we had journeyed down here) We remembered not the dank tarn of Auber, Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. And now, as the night was senescent, And star-dials pointed to morn— As the star-dials hinted of morn— At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn— Astarte's bediamonded crescent, Distinct with its duplicate horn. And I said—"She is warmer than Dian; She rolls through an ether of sighs— She revels in a region of sighs. She has seen that the tears are not dry on These cheeks, where the worm never dies, And has come past the stars of the Lion, To point us the path to the skies— To the Lethean peace of the skies— Come up, in despite of the Lion, To shine on us with her bright eyes— Come up, through the lair of the Lion, With love in her luminous eyes." But Psyche, uplifting her finger, Said—"Sadly this star I mistrust— Her pallor I strangely mistrust— Ah, hasten!—ah, let us not linger! Ah, fly!—let us fly!—for we must." In terror she spoke; letting sink her Wings till they trailed in the dust— In agony sobbed; letting sink her Plumes till they trailed in the dust— Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust. I replied—"This is nothing but dreaming. Let us on, by this tremulous light! Let us bathe in this crystalline light! Its Sibyllic splendor is beaming With Hope and in Beauty to-night— See!—it flickers up the sky through the night! Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming And be sure it will lead us aright— We surely may trust to a gleaming That cannot but guide us aright Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night." Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom— And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista— But were stopped by the door of a tomb— By the door of a legended tomb:— And I said—"What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?" She replied—"Ulalume—Ulalume!— 'T is the vault of thy lost Ulalume!" Then my heart it grew ashen and sober As the leaves that were crispéd and sere— As the leaves that were withering and sere— And I cried—"It was surely October, On this very night of last year, That I journeyed—I journeyed down here!— That I brought a dread burden down here— On this night, of all nights in the year, Ah! what demon has tempted me here? Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber— This misty mid region of Weir:— Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber— This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir." Said we, then—the two, then—"Ah, can it Have been that the woodlandish ghouls— The pitiful, the merciful ghouls, To bar up our way and to ban it From the secret that lies in these wolds— From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds— Have drawn up the spectre of a planet From the limbo of lunary souls— This sinfully scintillant planet From the Hell of planetary souls?" (1847) 尤娜路姆① 阴沉沉的天空一片蒙蒙灰色， 所有的树叶都已经焦枯凋零—— 所有的树叶都已经萎蔫凋零： 这是在夜晚，在凄凉的十月 在我最无法追忆的那个年轮： 黑幽幽的奥伯湖畔阴冷萧瑟， 雾蒙蒙的韦尔森林萧杀凄清—— 这是在奥伯阴湿的山顶湖侧， 在食尸鬼常出没的韦尔森林。 这里，沿着一条宽阔的小路， 路边有丝柏，我携灵魂漫游—— 携我的灵魂普叙赫一道漫游。 那些日子我的心尚如火如荼， 像火山炽热的熔岩不息滚流—— 像火山炽热的熔岩不息滚流， 燃烧的硫黄流进雅勒克山谷， 那是在迢迢北极大地的尽头—— 熔岩呻吟着流进雅勒克山谷， 那是在迢迢北极大地的尽头。 我俩的谈话既严肃又认真， 但我们的思想却麻木萎蔫—— 我们的记忆力也衰退萎蔫； 因为我们不知道那是十月份， 我们不晓是哪年哪个夜晚—— （呵，哪年的哪个夜晚！） 我们没留意幽幽奥伯湖滨， （虽然我们曾经到此游玩） 我们记不得奥伯山顶湖滨 和食尸鬼出没的韦尔林间。 现在，当那夜晚开始衰竭， 当天上的星图显示将破晓—— 当天上的星图显示将破晓—— 就在我们那条小路的终界 出现一团似水如云的光耀， 从光耀中一弯神奇的新月 幽幽然升起带着两只弯角—— 阿斯塔耳忒镶钻石的新月② 最明显的就是那两只弯角。 我说——“她比狄安娜温和； 她穿行过充满叹息的穹苍—— 她沉迷于充满叹息的地方。 她已经看见泪水不会干涸 在虫儿不会死的这些脸上， 她已经穿过了那狮子星座， 前来为我们指路通往天堂—— 通向忘川的宁静在那天堂—— 升起来了，不顾狮子星座， 照耀我们用她皎洁的目光—— 升起来了，穿过狮子的窝， 照耀我们用她慈爱的目光。” 但普叙赫，伸展开她的翅膀， 说——“真伤心我对这星怀疑—— 真奇怪我对她的苍白很怀疑—— 啊，赶快！——我们别再闲荡！ 啊，飞！快飞吧！我们必须。” 她在恐惧中说；垂下了翅膀， 直到她的翅膀拖曳在尘土里—— 她苦恼地抽噎；垂下了翅膀， 直到她的翅膀拖曳在尘土里—— 直到翅膀可怜地拖在尘土里。 我回答——“这只不过是梦幻。 继续走吧，凭着这皎洁月色！ 让我们沐浴这水晶般的月色！ 它神秘预言的光华明明灿灿 怀着希望在美中，就在今夜—— 看！它闪在天空穿过黑夜！ 哦，我们可以确信它的光焰， 并确信它会正确地指引我们—— 我们肯定可以相信一团光焰 必然会正确地指引我们， 因为它闪烁在天空穿过黑夜。” 我抚慰普叙赫，并把她亲吻， 哄诱她摆脱了她的忧郁愁苦； 征服了她的不安和忧郁愁苦； 我们继续向前，沿着那小径 但在一座荒冢的墓门边停住—— 在一道有铭文的墓门边停住—— 我问：“写的是什么，可爱的灵魂， 什么样的铭文写在这座坟墓？” 她答：“尤娜路姆——尤娜路姆！—— 这是你失去的尤娜路姆的坟墓！” 于是我的心儿变得黯然凄切 就像那些树叶一般凋萎枯黄—— 就像那些树叶一般残败枯黄—— 我失声惊呼“那肯定是十月， 就在去年今朝的这一个晚上， 我来过这里——我到过这地方！—— 带过一件敬畏之物到这地方—— 就在去年今朝的这一个晚上， 啊，什么魔鬼诱我到这地方？ 现在我知道在幽幽奥伯湖野—— 在雾蒙蒙的韦尔森林的中央：—— 现在我知道在奥伯山顶湖野—— 食尸鬼出没的韦尔森林中央。” 于是我们说——“啊，原来 一直是那些森林中的鬼蜮—— 那些慈悲的，好心的鬼蜮， 要拦我们的路，不让我们接近 藏在荒郊僻野的这个秘密—— 藏在荒郊僻野的这个秘密—— 于是招来这一颗幽灵般的行星 从月亮的灵魂居住的地狱—— 召来这颗有罪的、闪光的行星 从行星的灵魂居住的地狱？” （1847） 注释 ①　美国著名歌手杰夫·巴克利（Jeff Buckley，1966—1997）曾用他迷人的嗓音为此诗录制过一张他朗诵的唱片。——译者注 ②　腓尼基人崇拜的阿斯塔耳忒亦是月神，所以诗人在下节中将她与罗马神话中的月神狄安娜相比较。——译者注 An Enigma "Seldom we find," says Solomon Don Dunce, "Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet. Through all the flimsy things we see at once As easily as through a Naples bonnet— Trash of all trash!—how can a lady don it? Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff— Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff Twirls into trunk-paper the while you con it." And, veritably, Sol is right enough. The general tuckermanities are arrant Bubbles—ephemeral and so transparent— But this is, now,—you may depend upon it— Stable, opaque, immortal—all by dint Of the dear names that lie concealed within 't. (1848) 一首谜诗 所罗门·唐·邓斯说，“我们难得发现 半点思想在最深奥的十四行里。 透过所有浅薄的诗行我们一眼看见 像透过那不勒斯软帽那么容易—— 一堆垃圾！——怎能向女士奉献？ 可比你那彼特拉克式的废话更加无聊——① 最浑噩者涂鸦的猫头鹰似的胡说八道 也竟在你细读的纸上滴溜溜旋转。” 毋庸置疑，所罗门说的不差丝毫。 塔克曼式的诗行完全是肥皂泡泡——② 水上蜉蝣，朝生暮死，那么透明—— 但眼前这首诗，你完全可以相信—— 日月经天，江河行地，玄妙无穷—— 因为那可爱的名字就隐藏在其中。③ （1848） 注释 ①　“彼特拉克式的废话”指蹩脚诗人写的十四行诗。彼特拉克（Francesco Petrarca，1304—1374），意大利学者，以其十四行诗著称于世。——译者注 ②　暗讽受意大利十四行诗风格影响的波士顿诗人亨利·T. 塔克曼（Henry Theodore Tuckerman，1813—1871）。他于1845年在《民主评论》上发表了一组“轻飘飘的十四行诗”，爱伦·坡对这位诗人和他的诗都不喜欢。——译者注 ③　这首十四行诗以《赠——的情人节礼物》的方式（将原文第1行第1个字母、第2行第2个字母……第14行第14个字母连起来）嵌入了Sarah Anna Lewis这个名字。萨拉·安娜·刘易斯是个女诗人，爱伦·坡曾替她修改诗，她也资助过爱伦·坡夫妇。——译者注 The Bells 1 Hear the sledges with the bells— Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the Heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. 2 Hear the mellow wedding bells— Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight!— From the molten-golden notes And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens while she gloats On the moon! Oh, from out the sounding cells What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the future!—how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells!— Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! 3 Hear the loud alarum bells— Brazen bells! What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of Night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire— In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire, Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire And a resolute endeavour Now—now to sit, or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of despair! How they clang and clash and roar! What a horror they outpour In the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear, it fully knows, By the twanging And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows:— Yes, the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells— Of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— In the clamor and the clangor of the bells. 4 Hear the tolling of the bells— Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people—ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple All alone, And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone— They are neither man nor woman— They are neither brute nor human, They are Ghouls:— And their king it is who tolls:— And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls A P?an from the bells! And his merry bosom swells With the P?an of the bells! And he dances and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the P?an of the bells— Of the bells:— Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells— To the sobbing of the bells:— Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells:— To the tolling of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. (1848) 钟 声① 1 你听那雪橇的银铃—— 那银色的小钟！ 它们悦耳的铃声预言了一个多么快活的世界！ 他们是如何丁丁锳锳 在夜冰凉的空气中！ 点缀于天幕的颗颗星星 仿佛都快活地眨动眼睛， 眨动水晶般的眼睛； 铃儿丁丁锳锳地合着拍子， 合着一种北方神秘的旋律， 合着那悠扬快活的丁丁锳锳， 铃声流出那小钟般的银铃， 丁锳，丁锳，丁锳—— 铃声流出那丁丁锳锳、锳锳丁丁的银铃。 2 你听那柔和的婚礼钟声—— 听那金钟！ 它们和谐的钟声预言了一个多么幸福的世界！ 划破芬芳馥郁的夜空 如何奏鸣出喜乐融融！ 从那悠扬的金钟 和谐的铮铮鏦鏦 一支多么清丽的曲调 飘向那只爱慕地凝视着月亮的斑鸠 她在倾听！ 哦，从那些钟楼 荡漾出那么多如此美妙动听的钟声！ 如此抑扬噌吰 如此悠扬铮鏦 飘向未来！——如此奏颂 那欣欣愉愉陶陶融融， 是那欢天喜地鸣响的钟声， 丁东，丁东，丁东！ 金钟铮鏦，金钟噌吰， 丁东，丁东，丁东—— 鸣响这悠扬起伏贯珠扣玉的金钟！ 3 你听那刺耳的警钟—— 听那铜钟！ 它们喧嚷的钟声在讲述一种什么样的惊恐！ 在夜晚惊惶的耳里 它们声音那么凄厉！ 吓得不成声调， 只能悲鸣尖叫， 多不和谐， 吵吵嚷嚷啷啷当当向烈火乞哀告怜—— 疯疯癫癫当当啷啷劝又聋又狂的火焰， 火越蹿越高，越蹿越高， 以一种孤注一掷的心愿， 以一种不屈不挠的努力， 现在——现在，不然就休想， 蹿到那脸色吓得苍白的月亮旁边。 哦，那警钟，警钟，警钟！ 在讲述一种什么样的惊恐 和绝望！ 它们是怎样当啷当啷当啷！ 它们把一种什么样的惊惶 倾泻进瑟瑟发抖的空气的胸间！ 可那耳朵，它一清二楚， 凭那钟声铿锵， 凭那叮铃当啷， 那危险是如何潮起潮伏—— 是的，那耳朵一听就懂， 凭那啷啷当当， 凭那当当啷啷， 那危险是如何潮起潮涌， 凭着那愤怒钟声的起起伏伏低低涌涌—— 那钟声—— 那长鸣的警钟，警钟，警钟， 当啷，当啷，当啷—— 那吵吵嚷嚷当当啷啷的——铜钟。 4 你听那悠悠丧钟—— 听那铁钟！ 一个多么肃穆的世界出自那哀婉的钟声！ 在万籁俱寂的夜里 我们如何不寒而栗 当听到那悲伤忧郁的钟声！ 因为那声声鸣奏 发自生锈的咽喉 是声声呻吟。 而那些——哦，那些人 那些住在尖塔上的人 孤孤单单， 他们把丧钟鸣奏，鸣奏， 在沉闷单调的钟声里 感受到一种光荣，滚动 一块石头在人们心头—— 他们既不是男人也不是女人—— 他们既不是人类也不是野兽， 他们是幽灵—— 正是他们的君王把丧钟鸣奏—— 他鸣奏，鸣奏，鸣奏，鸣奏， 从钟里奏出一曲赞歌！ 他快活的胸膛起伏！ 随着丧钟的那曲赞歌！ 他叫嚷着高歌起舞； 合着丧钟幽幽咽咽的节奏， 合着一种北方神秘的节奏， 合着那一曲赞歌—— 发自丧钟—— 合着丧钟幽幽咽咽的节奏， 合着一种北方神秘的节奏， 合着钟声的震动—— 钟声，钟声，钟声—— 呜呜咽咽抽抽噎噎的钟声—— 合着幽幽咽咽的节奏， 当他鸣奏，鸣奏，鸣奏， 以快活的北方节奏， 合着钟声的荡荡悠悠—— 丧钟，丧钟，丧钟—— 合着钟声的荡荡悠悠—— 钟声悠悠荡荡，荡荡悠悠—— 丧钟，丧钟—— 合着呻吟哀号悠悠荡荡、荡荡悠悠的铁钟。 （1848） 注释 ①　此诗堪称爱伦·坡所追求的“音乐与思想结合”的典范，俄罗斯作曲家谢尔盖·拉赫玛尼诺夫（1873—1943）据此诗创作了合唱交响曲《钟声》（作品编号35）；英国作曲家约瑟·赫尔布鲁克（1878—1958）为此诗谱写了合唱与乐队曲《钟声·序曲》（作品编号50）；美国民谣歌手菲尔·奥克斯（1940—1976）和苏格兰声乐家诺曼·伍尔夫森（1945—2009）都曾改编并演唱过《钟声》。——译者注 To Helen I saw thee once—once only—years ago: I must not say how many—but not many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe — Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That gave out, in return for the love-light, Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death— Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence. Clad all in white, upon a violet bank I saw thee half reclining; while the moon Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses, And on thine own, upturn'd—alas, in sorrow! Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight— Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,) That bade me pause before that garden-gate, To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses? No footstep stirred: the hated world all slept, Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven!—oh, God! How my heart beats in coupling those two words!) Save only thee and me. I paused—I looked— And in an instant all things disappeared. (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!) The pearly lustre of the moon went out: The mossy banks and the meandering paths, The happy flowers and the repining trees, Were seen no more: the very roses' odors Died in the arms of the adoring airs. All—all expired save thee—save less than thou: Save only the divine light in thine eyes— Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes. I saw but them—they were the world to me. I saw but them—saw only them for hours— Saw only them until the moon went down. What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! How dark a wo! yet how sublime a hope! How silently serene a sea of pride! How daring an ambition! yet how deep— How fathomless a capacity for love! But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight, Into a western couch of thunder-cloud; And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained. They would not go—they never yet have gone. Lighting my lonely pathway home that night, They have not left me (as my hopes have) since. They follow me—they lead me through the years. They are my ministers—yet I their slave. Their office is to illumine and enkindle— My duty, to be saved by their bright light, And purified in their electric fire, And sanctified in their elysian fire. They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope,) And are far up in Heaven—the stars I kneel to In the sad, silent watches of my night; While even in the meridian glare of day I see them still—two sweetly scintillant Venuses, unextinguished by the sun! (1848) 致海伦① 我见过你——只一次——几年以前： 我无须说几年——但并不久远。 那是七月的一个午夜，从一轮 圆月，一轮像你的灵魂、翱翔着 寻找经过天国之路的圆月， 洒下一层如银如丝的光的薄纱， 带着宁静，带着热情，带着睡意， 罩上一千朵玫瑰花仰起的脸庞， 玫瑰花长在一座心醉神迷的花园， 那里风儿不敢吹，除非踮起脚尖—— 月光照耀在玫瑰花仰起的脸上， 为了报答那爱之光，玫瑰花给出—— 在销魂荡魄的死亡中——缕缕芳魂。 月光照耀在玫瑰花仰起的脸上， 玫瑰花微笑而死去，在那个花坛， 那个被你——被你的诗迷住的花坛。 穿一身白衣，靠着一排紫罗兰， 我看见你半倚半躺；那时月光 照在那些仰着脸庞的玫瑰花上， 也照着你仰起的脸——啊，忧伤的脸！ 莫非是命运，在这七月的午夜—— 莫非是命运（它也名叫悲伤） 让我在那座花园门口止步， 吸一口那些熟睡的玫瑰的芳香？ 阒无一人：这可恨的世界已沉睡， 只除开你和我。（哦，苍天！哦，上帝！ 我的心跳得多快，当把这两个字连在一起） 只除开你和我。我止步——我张望—— 突然，所有的一切都不复存在。 （哦，我心中只剩那座被迷住的花园！） 月亮流溢出珍珠色的光华： 那些长苔的堤，那些通幽的径， 那些快活的花，那些哀怨的树， 都无影无踪；连那玫瑰的芬芳 也在空气慈爱的手臂中消失。 一切都消逝了——只剩你——只剩你： 只剩下你那双眼睛神圣的光芒—— 只剩下你仰望的眼中那个灵魂。 我只看见它们——它们是我的世界。 我只看见它们——几小时中我只见它们—— 只看见它们，直到那轮圆月落下。 多炽热的心的倾诉仿佛就写在 那双晶亮的、神圣的眼睛里！ 多浓的愁！但多崇高的希望！ 多么柔和平静的骄傲的海洋！ 多无畏的雄心！但多么深—— 多么深不可测的一颗爱心！ 但此刻，可爱的狄安娜终于坠下， 坠进西边一片挟雷携电的云的卧榻； 而你，一个幽灵，也悄然隐去， 被埋进树丛。只留下你的眼睛。 它们不会离去——它们从来没离去。 那晚它们照亮我回家的孤途， 从此再也没离开我（如我的希望）。 它们伴着我，引导我度过这些年头。 它们是我的情人——而我是它们的奴仆。 它们的天职就是把我照亮，点燃—— 我的任务就是被它们的光亮拯救， 在它们带电的火焰中得以纯洁， 在它们福地的火焰中得以神圣。 它们让我的灵魂充满美（希望之美）， 当它们高高在天上——我跪向那双星 在忧伤的、静谧的、不眠的夜晚； 甚至在白天阳光灿烂的正午 我仍看见它们——两颗美妙闪烁的 金星，并不因太阳的光辉而失色！ （1848） 注释 ①　参见前一首《致海伦》注释。——译者注 A Dream within a Dream Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow— You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if Hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand— How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep—while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? (1849) 梦中之梦① 请你的眉间接受这一吻！ 在这我与你分手的时分， 到此为止让我向你承认—— 你并没有错，当你认定 我这一生一直是一场梦； 但若是希望已付诸东流 在一个夜晚，或在白昼， 在幻想之中，或在虚渺， 它难道因此失去得更少？ 我们所见或似见的一切 都不过是一场梦中之梦。 我站在咆哮轰鸣的海边， 我站在波涛汹涌的海岸， 我紧紧地握在我的手里 一粒粒金光灿灿的沙粒—— 真少！可它们仍然溜走， 从我指间溜向大海深处， 而我常哭问——我常哭求！ 上帝啊！我难道不能够 把这些沙粒儿抓得更紧？ 上帝哟！我难道不可以 从无情波涛留黄沙一粒？ 我们所见或似见的一切 难道只是一场梦中之梦？ （1849） 注释 ①　活跃于20世纪70—80年代的英国艾伦帕森实验乐团（The Alan Parsons Project）曾改编演唱过这首诗。——译者注 For Annie Thank Heaven! the crisis— The danger is past, And the lingering illness Is over at last— And the fever called "Living" Is conquered at last. Sadly, I know I am shorn of my strength, And no muscle I move As I lie at full length— But no matter!—I feel I am better at length. And I rest so composedly, Now, in my bed, That any beholder Might fancy me dead— Might start at beholding me, Thinking me dead. The moaning and groaning, The sighing and sobbing, Are quieted now, With that horrible throbbing At heart:—ah, that horrible, Horrible throbbing! The sickness—the nausea— The pitiless pain— Have ceased, with the fever That maddened my brain— With the fever called "Living" That burned in my brain. And oh! of all tortures That torture the worst Has abated—the terrible Torture of thirst For the napthaline river Of Passion accurst:— I have drank of a water That quenches all thirst:— Of a water that flows, With a lullaby sound, From a spring but a very few Feet under ground— From a cavern not very far Down under ground. And ah! let it never Be foolishly said That my room it is gloomy And narrow my bed; For man never slept In a different bed— And, to sleep, you must slumber In just such a bed. My tantalized spirit Here blandly reposes, Forgetting, or never Regretting its roses— Its old agitations Of myrtles and roses: For now, while so quietly Lying, it fancies A holier odor About it, of pansies— A rosemary odor, Commingled with pansies— With rue and the beautiful Puritan pansies. And so it lies happily, Bathing in many A dream of the truth And the beauty of Annie— Drowned in a bath Of the tresses of Annie. She tenderly kissed me, She fondly caressed, And then I fell gently To sleep on her breast— Deeply to sleep From the heaven of her breast. When the light was extinguished, She covered me warm, And she prayed to the angels To keep me from harm— To the queen of the angels To shield me from harm. And I lie so composedly, Now, in my bed, (Knowing her love) That you fancy me dead— And I rest so contentedly, Now in my bed, (With her love at my breast) That you fancy me dead— That you shudder to look at me, Thinking me dead:— But my heart it is brighter Than all of the many Stars in the sky, For it sparkles with Annie— It glows with the light Of the love of my Annie— With the thought of the light Of the eyes of my Annie. (1849) 献给安妮① 谢天谢地！那危机—— 那危险已经过去， 那种缠绵的疾病 总算已经痊愈—— 那被叫做“激情”的热病 终于得到抑制。 没精打采，我知道 我的体力已被减弱， 我一点也不动弹 当我伸直身体躺着—— 但这没关系！——我感到 我现在总算好得多。 我如此平静地躺着， 此刻，在我的床上， 任何看见我的人 都会以为我死亡—— 看见我会大吃一惊， 以为我已经死亡 那呻吟和那悲叹， 那哭泣与那哀号， 现在都已经平息， 随着那可怕的悸跳， 心跳——啊，可怕的 可怕的心的悸跳。 那种疾病——那种恶心—— 那种无情的苦痛—— 都已停息，随着那热病， 那热病曾使我发疯—— 随那叫做“激情”的热病，那热病曾烧在我心中。 哦！从所有令人痛苦的 最难耐的折磨， 已减退——那可怕的 折磨人的干渴， 那种对该死的 爱情之河的饥渴—— 我已经喝下了一种水， 消解了所有干渴—— 一种水，它流淌时 发出催眠的声音， 从附近的一股清泉 在地下却不深—— 从附近的一个洞穴 在地下却不深。 啊！从今以后将不再 愚蠢地信口雌黄， 说什么暗了我的房间， 说什么窄了我的床； 因男人从不曾睡在 一张不同的床上—— 要睡，就必须睡在 这样的一张床。 我曾被逗弄的心 在这儿平静地安睡， 完全忘却，或不再 去怀念它的蔷薇—— 昔日曾为之动情的 桃金娘和蔷薇。 因此刻，当如此平静地 躺着，它相信 一阵更圣洁的幽香 就在周围，一种三色堇—— 一种迷迭香的芬芳， 混合着三色堇—— 混合着芸香和美丽的 纯洁的三色堇。 心儿就这样躺着， 幸福地尽情沐浴 许多真实的梦幻 和安妮的美丽—— 幸福地尽情沐浴 安妮的缕缕发丝。 她温柔地轻轻吻我， 多情地抚爱劝哄， 于是我安然入睡 就睡在她的酥胸—— 于是我沉沉入睡 在她怀抱中的天空。 当那光亮熄灭， 她以温暖将我覆盖， 她向天使们祈祷 不让我受到伤害—— 向天使的女王祈祷 保护我不受伤害。 我如此平静地躺着， 此刻，在我的床上， （知道她的爱） 而你以为我死亡—— 我心满意足地躺着， 此刻在我的床上 （心中充满她的爱） 而你以为我死亡—— 你看见我就打哆嗦， 以为我已经死亡—— 但现在我的心 比什么时候都亮， 亮过天上所有星星， 因为它因安妮而闪光—— 它因那道光而闪烁， 那道安妮爱的光芒—— 因为想到那道光 我的安妮的目光。 （1849） 注释 ①　诗中的“安妮”指马萨诸塞州洛厄尔市的南茜·里士满，爱伦·坡于1848年去该市演讲时与她相识。南茜是有夫之妇，但爱伦·坡与她之间产生了一种柏拉图式的热恋关系。此诗发表于1849年4月，此前爱伦·坡在一封落款日期为1849年3月23日的信中将此诗寄给了里士满夫人。南茜·里士满的丈夫死于1873年，其后南茜常在正式场合称自己为安妮。——译者注 Eldorado Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old— This knight so bold— And o'er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow— 'Shadow,' said he, 'Where can it be— This land of Eldorado?' 'Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride,' The shade replied,— 'If you seek for Eldorado!' (1849) 黄金国① 服饰优雅华丽， 一名堂堂骑士， 顶烈日骄阳穿蒙蒙夜色， 走过千里迢迢， 唱着一支歌谣， 一直在寻觅那黄金之国。 但他日渐衰老—— 那名勇敢骑士—— 一片阴影罩在他的心窝， 当他终于发现 没有任何地点 像是理想中的黄金之国。 当他体弱力微， 当他心力交瘁， 他遇见了一位影子香客—— 他问：“影子， 到底在哪里—— 是这个世界的黄金之国？” “翻过那些山， 翻过月亮的山， 再往下走进死荫之幽谷，② 勇敢地去吧，” 那影子回答，—— “如果你寻找黄金之国！” （1849） 注释 ①　参见《金星》的注①。另外，德国“永恒沉睡乐队”（Sopor Aeternus）和美国“奥尔菲拉乐队”（The Jim O’Ferrell Band）也分别于2000年和2009年改编并演唱这首诗。——译者注 ②　“死荫之幽谷”（the Valley of the Shadow）语出《旧约·诗篇》第23篇第4节：“虽然我穿行在死荫之幽谷，但我不怕罹祸，因为你与我同在”。——译者注 To My Mother Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of "Mother," Therefore by that dear name I long have called you— You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you In setting my Virginia's spirit free. My mother—my own mother, who died early, Was but the mother of myself; but you Are mother to the one I loved so dearly, And thus are dearer than the mother I knew By that infinity with which my wife Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life. (1849) 致我的母亲 因为我感到，即使在天国乐土， 那些正在相互窃窃私语的天使 也找不出，从炽热的爱的称呼， 能像母亲这般虔敬的称谓名词， 所以长久以来我用这称谓叫你—— 你对于我早已远远超越了母亲， 你充满我的心，自从死神让你 替代我的弗吉尼亚获释的灵魂。 我的母亲——我自己早亡的生母， 不过仅仅是我的母亲；但是你 却是我最心爱的那个人的生母， 所以比我所知的母亲更为亲密， 因为这无限的亲密，我的爱妻 于我的灵魂比灵魂本身更可贵。 （1849） Annabel Lee It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee;— And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. She was a child and I was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingéd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud by night, Chilling my Annabel Lee; So that her high-born kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre, In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me; Yes! that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud, chilling And killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:— For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the side of the sea. (1849) 安娜贝尔·李 那是在很多年很多年以前， 在大海边一个王国里， 住着位你也许认识的姑娘， 她名叫安娜贝尔·李—— 那姑娘活着没别的心愿， 与我相爱是她的心思。 她是个孩子，我也是孩子， 在大海边的那个王国里， 但我俩以超越爱的爱相爱—— 我和我的安娜贝尔·李—— 就连天上那些六翼天使 对她和我也心生妒意。 而这就是原因，在很久以前， 在大海边那个王国里， 趁黑夜从云间吹来一阵冷风 寒彻我的安娜贝尔·李； 于是她出身高贵的亲戚前来 从我身边把她带去， 把她关进了一座石凿的墓穴， 在大海边那个王国里。 在天堂一点也不快活的天使 对她和我一直心存妒意； 对！那就是原因（众所周知， 在大海边那个王国里） 趁黑夜从云间吹来一阵冷风， 冻杀了我的安娜贝尔·李。 但我俩的爱远比其他爱强烈—— 与那些更年长的人相比—— 与许多更聪明的人相比—— 无论是那些住在天上的天使 还是那些在海底的鬼蜮， 都永远不能把我俩的灵魂分开， 我和我的安娜贝尔·李。 因每当月放光华我总会梦见 我美丽的安娜贝尔·李； 而每当星斗升空我总会看见 她那明亮而美丽的眸子； 所以我整夜都躺在我爱人身旁， 我的爱，我的生命，我的新娘， 在大海边她的石墓里—— 在大海边她的坟墓里。 （1849） ---------------------------用户上传之内容结束-------------------------------- 声明：本书为八零电子书(txt80.cc)的用户上传至其在本站的存储空间，本站只提供TXT全集电子书存储服务以及免费下载服务，以上作品内容之版权与本站无任何关系。