John Keats
Thou still unravished bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
SyIvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these?What maidens loath?
What mad pursuit?What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbreIs?What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter;therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,
Pipe to the spirit dities of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Ah, happy, happy boughs!that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
Forever piping songs forever new;
More happy love!more happy, happy love!
Forever warm and still to be enjoyed,
Forever panting, and forever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands dressed?
What little town by river or sea-shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be;and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape!Fair attitude!with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity. Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,”—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
約翰·濟(jì)慈
你仍是寧靜未過門的新娘,
你是寂靜與悠長歲月的養(yǎng)女,
呵,田園的史家,你竟能如此描述
一個(gè)如花的故事,比詩還瑰麗:
在你的形體上,豈非繚繞著
古老的傳說,以綠葉為其邊緣;
講著人或神,敦陂或阿卡狄?
呵,是什么人,什么神!在舞樂前
多熱烈地追求!少女怎樣地逃!
又是怎樣的笛子和手鼓?怎樣狂野地著迷?
樂曲傳美妙,無聲勝有聲;
因此,柔情的風(fēng)笛,你盡情地吹;
無聲的小曲不是吹給肉耳聽的,
而是與更鐘愛的人兩心相期。
那樹下的美少年歌永不歇,
那樹上的綠葉也永不凋零,
大膽的戀人也永遠(yuǎn)吻不到她,
雖然離目的還差一步——但你也別生悲切;
雖然你還沒有吻她的福氣,但她永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)老,
你的愛永恒,她的美永恒!
呵,幸福的樹木!你的枝葉
不會(huì)剝落,從不曾離開春天;
琴師也有幸,精力永旺盛,
吹奏萬古常新的樂曲;
呵,更為幸福的愛情,格外幸福的愛情!
永遠(yuǎn)溫暖,令人歡慰,
永遠(yuǎn)激情,永遠(yuǎn)年輕;
這愛情超越了人間的愛情;
那人間的愛情讓人生厭,叫人傷心,
讓人額頭發(fā)燙,焦灼人的舌根。
這些獻(xiàn)祭的人是誰?
哦,神秘的祭司,走上神圣的祭壇,
這頭小母牛披彩緞,飾花環(huán),
對(duì)著蒼天哞哞叫喊,啊,
是從哪個(gè)傍河傍海的小鎮(zhèn),
或哪個(gè)靜靜的堡寨山村,
來了這些人,在這虔誠的清晨?
呵,小鎮(zhèn),你的街道永遠(yuǎn)恬靜;
沒有一個(gè)人能趕回來,告訴你
為什么你是這樣荒涼靜寂。
啊,形狀高雅!姿態(tài)美好!
上面細(xì)刻著大理石的男女之像,
那畫圖里頭上有樹枝、腳下有青草,
你嘲笑得我們不知如何是好,您這無言的形狀,
就像“永恒”嘲笑我們一樣;你這蒼涼的田園風(fēng)光!
當(dāng)衰老把我們這代人消磨殆盡,
你仍留在下一代更痛苦的人之中,
你對(duì)他們說,你是人類的友人,
“美即是真,真即是美”這就包括
在這世界上,我們所知和需知的一切。
實(shí)戰(zhàn)提升
背景知識(shí)
約翰·濟(jì)慈(John Keats),出生于18世紀(jì)末的倫敦,他是杰出的英詩作家之一,也是浪漫派的主要成員。濟(jì)慈詩才橫溢,與雪萊、拜倫齊名。他只活了25歲,但其遺下的詩篇一直譽(yù)滿人間,被認(rèn)為完美地體現(xiàn)了西方浪漫主義詩歌的特色,并被推崇為歐洲浪漫主義運(yùn)動(dòng)的杰出代表。他主張“美即是真,真即是美”(Beauty is truth, truth beauty),擅長描繪自然景色和事物外貌,表現(xiàn)景物的色彩感和立體感,重視寫作技巧,語言追求華美,對(duì)后世抒情詩的創(chuàng)作影響極大。
在這首詩里,詩人把古甕給他的一些感性的、富有生命力的、色彩斑瀾的印象,通過他的神思妙想、藝術(shù)的提煉,把觸及他靈魂的東西至美地表達(dá)了出來。昔日的生命不復(fù)存在,但生命不一定要依附于肉體,曾幾何時(shí),他們在古代雕刻家手中獲得了“再生”,化為永恒之美長存人間,且超然于人間苦海的變幻,撫慰凄風(fēng)苦雨中憂傷的心——美即是真,真即是美,此美乃不朽!故痛苦有限的生命可以在美和真中找到慰藉。整首詩在詠物過程中向我們提示了這樣一個(gè)真理:人生短促、藝術(shù)長久!
單詞注解
syIvan['silv?n]森林的;多樹木的
timbreI['timbr?l]鈴鼓
adieu[?'dju:]告別,辭行
heifer['hef?]小母牛
maiden['meidn]少女
名句誦讀
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,”—that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.