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发表于 2017-11-5 11:03 | 只看该作者 回帖奖励 |倒序浏览 |阅读模式


埃德加·爱伦·坡

(翻译:潘学峰)

在年轻的春日里,我会注定
出没在这宽广世界的一个点中
它是我难舍的爱-
最爱它的寂静
一个被黑色岩石围着的野生湖,
周围有高高的松树卫拱。
但,当夜垂下她的帷幕
在那个地方,就像在所有的地方,
有神秘的风刮过
潺潺私语-  
于是─啊,于是我醒来
面对那孤独湖的恐怖。
然而,它却并不使人生畏,
而是有一种颤抖着的欣喜升起-
那种感觉不同于发现宝石矿
我会被引导或贿赂给出如此的定义-
没有爱 - 虽然,那爱属于你。
死亡飘荡在那有毒的波浪,
它的海湾,一个不错的坟墓
谁会为他从那坟墓中给他孤独的想象
带来慰藉-
助他隐居的灵魂把
那昏暗的湖变作一个伊甸园。
               
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
The Lake

Edgar Allan Poe

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.
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