莎士比亚十四行诗第三十二、三十三、三十四首
32
如果你能活到我死那天,
看着死亡将我的尸骨埋填,
而有幸能让你重新翻看
我这亡者蹩脚的诗篇; 4
请将之与当代最好的诗相比,
尽管它曾远远不及,
且为我的爱而勿将之轻弃,
尽管其韵律被那幸福者远远超越。 8
请因爱而向我保证:
“我的朋友缪斯诗才日益精进,
他的爱使他有更炽烈的诗情,
可以比拟与这时代更优秀的诗人: 12
而自他死后,新生的诗人们用更娴熟的笔
展示自己,我读他,只为那字里行间之意。”
Sonnet 32
If thou survive my well-contented day,
When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,
And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover; 4
Compare them with the bett'ring of the time,
And though they be outstripp'd of the time,
Reserve them for my love,not for their rhyme,
Exceeded by the height of happier men. 8
O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought,
Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,
A dearer birth than this his love had brought,
To march in ranks of better equipage. 12
But since he died,and poets better prove,
Theirs for their style I'll read,his for his love.
33
多少个明媚的早晨,
看那光明之眼抚过冈岑,
看他金光四射亲吻绿茵,
为苍白的溪流鎏上黄金; 4
忽而他用黑暗的云层
并其阴影遮上他的面孔,
对这孤独的尘世隐藏真容,
带着丝丝尘污悄然西沉。 8
可即便如此他也将我每个清晨照亮
在我额上铺洒万丈光芒;
然而他终究只能伴我片刻光阴,
空中隔着的满是阴云。 12
而我对他的爱仍丝毫不减;
它会熄灭,而他永不暗淡。
Sonnet 33
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows gren,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; 4
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlon world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. 8
Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
With all triumphant splendour on my brow;
But out alack,he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. 12
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
34
为何你许我天气晴好,
让我外出旅行而不带外衣,
中途却让乌云将我笼罩,
将你的光芒隐于雾重烟迷?
纵然你冲破云雾晒干,
我脸上淋漓的雨滴,
又有谁会来将你称赞,
这只疗伤而不疗心的凡医。
纵你愧疚也无益我的伤怀;
纵你忏悔也无补我的损失:
施恶者已经带来了伤害,
你的痛苦又能给我什么慰藉。
但你为爱而流的泪水便如珍珠,
价值连城,足以将一切过失救赎。
Sonnet 34
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke? 4
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
For no man well of such a salve can speak
That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace; 8
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
Though thou repent,yet I have still the loss;
Th'offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence's cross. 12
Ah but those tears are pearl which thy love shed,
And they are rich,and ransom all ill deeds.
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