露西•格瑞

林水云风

Lucy Gray

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray：
And，when I crossed the wild，
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.

No mate，no comrade Lucy knew；
She dwelt on a wide moor，
—The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the fawn at play，
The hare upon the green；
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

“To-night will be a stormy night—
You to the town must go；
And take a lantern，Child，to light
Your mother through the snow.”

“That，Father! will I gladly do:
’Tis scarcely afternoon—
The minster-clock has just struck two，
And yonder is the moon!”

At this the Father raised his hook，
And snapped a faggot-band；
He plied his work；—and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe:
With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse the powdery snow，
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time:
She wandered up and down；
And many a hill did Lucy climb:
But never reached the town.

The wretched parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide；
But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlooked the moor；
And thence they saw the bridge of wood，
A furlong from their door.

They wept—and，turning homeward，cried，
“In heaven we all shall meet；”
—When in the snow the mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.

Then downwards from the steep hill’s edge
They tracked the footmarks small；
And through the broken hawthorn hedge，
And by the long stone-wall；

And then an open field they crossed:
The marks were still the same；
They tracked them on，nor ever lost；
And to the bridge they came.

They followed from the snowy bank
Those footmarks，one by one，
Into the middle of the plank；
And further there were none!

—Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living child；
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome wild.

O’er rough and smooth she trips along，
And never looks behind；
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind.

林水云风

露西•格瑞

我多次听说过露西的故事，
有一次黎明时分
我穿过空旷的荒野，
我看见了她孤独的身影。

露西住在空旷的荒野，
她没有伙伴玩耍，
她是上苍的最美丽的天使
飞入寻常百姓家。

你仍会看见小山羊在蹦跳，
野兔在草地里跑，
可是露西那可爱的脸，
永远也见不着了。

“今晚准会起风暴，
孩子，你要赶紧去进城，
哦，要带上提灯，
给你妈照亮，别陷进大雪中。”

“好的，爸爸，我这就去，
现在刚到下晌，
教堂的钟刚敲过的是两点，
离天黑还早的呢。”

这时父亲操起镰刀
割断绑条，打开了柴捆，
他忙着干活去了，
露西也提上灯出了门。

山上的小鹿没有她活泼，
她边走边尽情地玩耍，
她把雪踢飞，雪沫四扬，
像四散的烟花。

风暴提前来到了，
露西不再玩了，赶紧地赶路，
她翻过山，又越过岭，
可山岭把她永远地留住了。

可怜的父母寻找了一夜，
四处奔跑呼喊，
但听不到声音，看不到光亮，
心急如焚眼已穿。

天亮了他们站在山上，
站在山上可以俯看荒野，
他们看见了家门旁的木桥，
已是万念俱灭。

两人流着泪往家走，
“天堂见吧，”两人哭咽，
这时母亲在雪地里突然看见
露西的小脚印。

两人在陡峭的山坡下
紧随脚印追踪，
穿过残破的山楂树篱，
走过石墙下的长径。

两人又走过一片荒地，
脚印仍清楚可见，
两人紧紧追寻，不弃不离，
遂来到了桥边。

两人跟到积雪的河岸，
脚印仍然是一个接着一个，
可是到了桥中间，
却一个也没了！

至今仍有人坚持说，
露西她还活着，
你会看得见可爱的露西
她一个人在荒野上。

她独行在山上山下，
一直往前走，从不回头，
唱着一首孤寂的歌，
随风声而飘流。

林水云风

这是西方人的一种思想，一个价值取向，一个审美观念。思想，就是人要奋斗、进取；价值取向，就是在奋斗、进取当中不畏邪恶、强暴；审美观念，就是在战胜千难万险后，酣畅淋漓地体现了人性的崇高美。这种主题在西方一些动作大片里经常见得到，主角已经远离尘世，过着孤独的与世无争的生活，但是一个偶然的事件，又给卷入进去，卷入了一场善与恶之争，美与丑之斗，善美弱小，而丑恶强大，但是弱小不畏强大，最后正义战胜邪恶。诗人通过叙述一个凄惨的故事，一个悲剧，最后告诉人们小露西失于风暴，但她永远地活着。第一段和最后两段是呼应的，人们说露西没有死，诗人亦向人证实，他就见过露西。人们最后看到一个悲剧的美。

叶如钢

欣赏好译。
一个很让人感伤的故事。
人们寄托了美好的愿望。

林水云风

叶如钢 发表于 2015-11-28 15:59
欣赏好译。
一个很让人感伤的故事。
人们寄托了美好的愿望。

谢谢！
The minster-clock has just struck two，
杨德豫译为“教堂的大钟刚敲过两下”，敲过两下，那是夜里两点，而诗中说的敲了下午的两点。

叶如钢

林水云风 发表于 2015-11-28 19:14
谢谢！
The minster-clock has just struck two，
杨德豫译为“教堂的大钟刚敲过两下”，敲过两下，那 ...

敲两下是 struck  twice.

叶如钢

I chanced to see

----这句翻译得不对。

林水云风

叶如钢 发表于 2015-11-28 22:45
I chanced to see

----这句翻译得不对。

是的，是偶遇，我没有具体翻译出这个意思。

林水云风

5

We are Seven

—A simple Child，
That lightly draws its breath，
And feels its life in every limb，
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old，she said；
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic，woodland air，
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair，and very fair；
—Her beauty made me glad.

‘Sisters and brothers，little Maid，
How many may you be?’
‘How many? Seven in all，’she said，
And wondering looked at me.

‘And where are they? I pray you tell.’
She answered，‘Seven are we；
And two of us at Conway dwell➀，
And two are gone to sea.

‘Two of us in the church-yard lie，
My sister and my brother；
And，in the church-yard cottage，I
Dwell near them with my mother.’

‘You say that two at Conway dwell，
And two are gone to sea，
Yet ye are seven!—I pray you tell，
Sweet Maid，how this may be.’

Then did the little Maid reply，
‘Seven boys and girls are we；
Two of us in the church-yard lie，
Beneath the church-yard tree.’

‘You run about，my little Maid，
Your limbs they are alive；
If two are in the church-yard laid，
Then ye are only five.’

‘Their graves are green，they may be seen，’
The little Maid replied，
‘Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door，
And they are side by side.

‘My stockings there I often knit，
My kerchief there I hem；
And there upon the ground I sit，
And sing a song to them.

‘And often after sunset，Sir，
When it is light and fair，
I take my little porringer，
And eat my supper there.

‘The first that died was sister Jane；
In bed she moaning lay，
Till God released her of her pain；
And then she went away.

‘So in the church-yard she was laid；
And，when the grass was dry，
Together round her grave we played，
My brother John and I.

‘And when the ground was white with snow，
And I could run and slide，
My brother John was forced to go，
And he lies by her side.’

‘How many are you，then，’said I，
‘If they two are in heaven?’
Quick was the little Maid’s reply，
‘O Master! we are seven.’

‘But they are dead；those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!’
'Twas throwing words away；for still
The little Maid would have her will，
And said，‘Nay，we are seven!’


➀康韦，威尔士北部海港，濒爱尔兰海。

林水云风

5

我们是七个

天真的小孩儿，
你看它那轻畅的呼吸，
就知它全身是充满了活力，
对死根本就不会在意。

我在村里碰见个小女孩儿，
她说她已经八岁了；
她长着一头浓密的卷发，
杂乱地蔓延飘垂。

她一身的乡野气味儿，
穿的那更是土气，
她的眼睛很美，非常的美，
她的美令我欢喜。

“小姑娘，告诉我，
你有几个兄弟姐妹？”
“几个？一共七个，”她说，
她好像要朝我撇嘴。

“那他们都在哪儿？告诉我。”
她说，“我们共七个，
两个搬到康韦去住了，
还有两个出海了。

“还有一个姐姐，一个哥哥，
他俩躺在教堂的墓地；
教堂墓地旁有个小草房，
我跟妈妈就住在那里。

“你说两个住在康韦，
两个出海了，
可你说你们有七个，小姑娘，
可是我怎么没算开？”

“我们兄弟姐妹就是七个，”
小姑娘干脆地回答，
“两个躺在教堂墓地，
就躺在教堂墓地的树底下。”

“小姑娘，你四处的跑，
手脚都非常的灵敏，
要是有两个已进了教堂的墓地，
那么你们就兄妹五人。”

两个坟有青草，一眼就望见，”
小姑娘这样回答道，
“离我家门就十几步，
他俩紧挨着。

“我常在那儿织袜子，
常在那儿缝手帕，
还常坐在那儿的地上，
给他俩唱歌，陪他俩说话。

“先生，经常等太阳下山，
趁着天边那一片晚霞，
我会端着饭碗，
到那儿去吃晚饭。

“先走的是我姐姐珍妮，
她生病躺在床上，
上帝最后解除了她的疼痛，
她就这样去了那地方。

“她躺进了教堂的墓地，
只要她坟旁的草都干了，
我就会跟哥哥约翰
到那儿去玩耍。

“到冬天下了雪，地上结了冰，
我就又能出去跑，打刺溜滑，
可我哥哥约翰又走了，
在姐姐身边躺下。”

“要是两个去了天国，”我说，
“你们兄妹到底是几个？”
小姑娘又是干脆地回答，
“先生，我们是七个。”

“但是有两个死了，两个死了！
他们已经去了天国！”
我知道这话说了也是白说，
因为小姑娘仍然坚持道，
“不，我们是七个！”