《Ode to Psyche》by John Keats__江紹倫譯

《頌心霊》  (濟慈)

O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung
By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear,
And pardon that thy secrets should be sung
Even into thine own soft-conched ear:
Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I see
The winged Psyche with awaken’d eyes? …..
啊女神請聽這些失調之歌
出於親切的甜蜜追憶
請原諒我唱出你的秘密
在你柔軟的耳底細訴
今天我確實夢如親見
你這美目高飛的心霊 …..

《頌心霊》  (濟慈)
O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung
By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear,
And pardon that thy secrets should be sung
Even into thine own soft-conched ear:
Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I see
The winged Psyche with awaken’d eyes?
I wander’d in a forest thoughtlessly,
And, on the sudden, fainting with surprise,
Saw two fair creatures, couched side by side
In deepest grass, beneath the whisp’ring roof
Of leaves and trembled blossoms, where there ran
A brooklet, scarce espied:
啊女神請聽這些失調之歌
出於親切的甜蜜追憶
請原諒我唱出你的秘密
在你柔軟的耳底細訴
今天我確實夢如親見
你這美目高飛的心霊
我心無思慮地漫步林間
給突發的驚奇著迷
看見兩小可愛精靈互相依偎
在深草叢裡喋喋絮語
還有在落葉下顫動的花兒
在淺溪流水旁邊
Mid hush’d, cool-rooted flowers, fragrant-eyed,
Blue, silver-white, and budded Tyrian,
They lay calm-breathing, on the bedded grass;
Their arms embraced, and their pinions too;
Their lips touch’d not, but had not bade adieu,
As if disjoined by soft-handed slumber,
And ready still past kisses to outnumber
At tender eye-dawn of aurorean love:
The winged boy I knew;
But who wast thou, O happy, happy dove?
His Psyche true!
那清涼根原的花蕊一片寧靜
藍色銀色紫色花兒含苞待放
閒躺在綠茵床上安祥呼息
手臂互抱翅膀交疊
香唇互不接觸亦不告別
在酣睡中暫時微張
準備醒后熱情親吻
等待悠閑的晨曦歡顏親愛
我熱戀的展翅男孩
你可是幸福的俊美小鴿
真正的心靈
O latest born and loveliest vision far
Of all Olympus’ faded hierarchy!
Fairer than Phoebe’s sapphire-region’d star,
Or Vesper, amorous glow-worm of the sky;
Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none,
Nor altar heap’d with flowers;
Nor virgin-choir to make delicious moan
Upon the midnight hours;
No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet
From chain-swung censer teeming;
No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat
Of pale-mouth’d prophet dreaming.
近日出現敬愛的遠方卓見
來自淡去了的奧林帕斯山族
比藍寶石般的月神更光燦閃亮
像金星的火熱在天上大放光明
你更崇高儘管不有自己的神廟
沒有堆滿鮮花的祭壇
沒有幼童詩歌班的和音
在午夜唱出哀婉的詠嘆
靜寂無琴無管配樂也無香氣煙燻
從金鏈香爐搖擺中散放
無神龕聖林神喻或信望
祇有臉青唇白的先知在幻想
O brightest! though too late for antique vows,
Too, too late for the fond believing lyre,
When holy were the haunted forest boughs,
Holy the air, the water, and the fire;
Yet even in these days so far retir’d
From happy pieties, thy lucent fans,
Fluttering among the faint Olympians,
I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspir’d.
So let me be thy choir, and make a moan
Upon the midnight hours;
Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet
From swinged censer teeming;
Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat
Of pale-mouth’d prophet dreaming.
啊聰慧的你即使古誓遲來
太遲了那動人的竪琴也不能挽囘
當神聖即如懾魂林閒的枝椏
神聖的空氣水和火
在那遠忘了的日子
再沒有顯見愛慕群的誠心歡呼
在淡去的奧林匹克人裏活躍
我受動人的音樂感召
擔當你的詩歌團
在午夜悄悄低吟
好比搖蕩的紅香爐發放
你的歌聲琴音笛調和甜美的清香
你的廟堂你的聖地神諭和熱情
盡是空談預言者的夢幻
Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane
In some untrodden region of my mind,
Where branched thoughts, new grown with pleasant pain,
Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind:
Far, far around shall those dark-cluster’d trees
Fledge the wild-ridged mountains steep by steep;
And there by zephyrs, streams, and birds, and bees,
The moss-lain Dryads shall be lull’d to sleep;
And in the midst of this wide quietness
A rosy sanctuary will I dress
With the wreath’d trellis of a working brain,
With buds, and bells, and stars without a name,
With all the gardener Fancy e’er could feign,
Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same:
And there shall be for thee all soft delight
That shadowy thought can win,
A bright torch, and a casement ope at night,
To let the warm Love in!
我要擔任你的祭司
於我澄潔的心中為你建築廟堂
用極樂的痛苦譜寫繁枝的智慧樂章
替代風中蒼松的沙沙鳴響
蓋過那濃蔭密佈
那遍山越崖的林濤
和風指揮清溪鳥兒和蜂群輕唱催眠曲
叫躺在青苔上的林仙安然入睡
在這無邊的荒寂中
我要修建一座玫瑰靜所
用清心織成最美麗的花環
有芭蕾鈴朵和無名星花
連園丁亦想像不出的奇景
比他培育的艷花更為綺麗
我將為你盈聚最溫馨柔和的愉悅
用火炬照亮夜間敞開的窗扉
迎入多情的愛神。
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