英漢對照|王爾德詩選：金銀柳之戀

Γλυκ?πικρος Ëρως

Sweet I blame you not for mine the fault was, had I not been made of common clay

I had climbed the higher heights unclimbed yet, seen the fuller air, the larger day.



From the wildness of my wasted passion I had struck a better, clearer song,

Lit some lighter light of freer freedom, battled with some Hydraheaded wrong.



Had my lips been smitten into music by the kisses that but made them bleed,

You had walked with Bice and the angels on that verdant and enamelled mead.



I had trod the road which Dante treading saw the suns of seven circles shine,

Ay! perchance had seen the heavens opening, as they opened to the Florentine.



And the mighty nations would have crowned me, who am crownless now and without name,

And some orient dawn had found me kneeling on the threshold of the House of Fame.



I had sat within that marble circle where the oldest bard is as the young,

And the pipe is ever dropping honey, and the lyre's strings are ever strung.



Keats had lifted up his hymenæal curls from out the poppyseeded wine,

With ambrosial mouth had kissed my forehead, clasped the hand of noble love in mine.



And at springtide, when the apple-blossoms brush the burnished bosom of the dove,

Two young lovers lying in an orchard would have read the story of our love.



Would have read the legend of my passion, known the bitter secret of my heart,

Kissed as we have kissed, but never parted as we two are fated now to part.



For the crimson flower of our life is eaten by the cankerworm of truth,

And no hand can gather up the fallen withered petals of the rose of youth.



Yet I am not sorry that I loved you—ah! what else had I a boy to do,—

For the hungry teeth of time devour, and the silent-footed years pursue.



Rudderless, we drift athwart a tempest, and when once the storm of youth is past,

Without lyre, without lute or chorus, Death a silent pilot comes at last.



And within the grave there is no pleasure, for the blind-worm battens on the root,

And Desire shudders into ashes, and the tree of Passion bears no fruit.



Ah! what else had I to do but love you, God's own mother was less dear to me,

And less dear the Cytheræan rising like an argent lily from the sea.



I have made my choice, have lived my poems, and, though youth is gone in wasted days,

I have found the lover's crown of myrtle better than the poet's crown of bays.

金銀柳之戀

親親，我不會因為我的過失而責備你，倘若我并非出自普通的泥土，

我曾經登上闃無人跡的高峰，見過更豐沛的空氣、更開闊的時光。



從我虛擲激情的野性里，我找到了一段更美妙、更清越的旋律，

點亮更光明的光明和更自由的自由，去戰(zhàn)勝某個九頭蛇的錯誤。



我的雙唇被親吻擊打成音樂，因此而殘留著一絲絲殷紅的血跡，

你曾經陪同貝雅特麗采和天使們漫步于琺瑯似蔥郁的草地。



我曾經走過但丁走過的道路，看見七個太陽置身于七重光環(huán)，

??！或許我已目睹天庭豁然開啟，正如它曾經向佛羅倫薩人敞開。



而那些強大的國家將為我加冕，盡管我僅是寂寂無名的一介布衣，

而某一個東方的黎明將會發(fā)現(xiàn)我正跪拜在榮譽之宮殿的門檻前。

我坐在一圈大理石雕像中間，那里最年邁的游吟詩人跟年輕人一樣，

那一枝豎笛不斷流淌著蜂蜜，七弦琴彈奏出悠揚的樂聲直抵云霄。



濟慈抬起他那一頭贊美詩般美麗的卷發(fā)，放下罌粟粒浸泡的美酒，

以品嘗過仙品的嘴唇親吻我的額頭，用高貴之愛的手握緊我的手。



伴隨著春潮涌動，當蘋果花輕拂鴿子那白得耀眼的胸脯，

在果園里躺下的兩個年輕人將讀到關于我的愛情掌故。



他們將讀到我激情的傳奇，了解蘊藏在我內心苦澀的秘密，

像我們曾經親吻的那樣親吻，但絕不會像我們命定分離那樣分離。



因為我們生命的彤紅之花已被真理的蛆蟲所吞噬，

沒有一只手能夠撿拾起青春四下凋零的玫瑰花瓣。



但我不后悔曾經愛過你，——唉！除此，我一個少年還可做什么？——

因為時間饑餓的牙齒吞食著一切，躡足的歲月在后面窮追不舍。



失去了船舵，我們在風浪中顛簸，那時已不再有青春的風暴，

沒有豎琴，沒有笛管與合唱隊的歌聲，死亡這舵手最終來引導。



墳墓里沒有任何歡愉可言，盲目的蛆蟲噬咬著我的根部，

情欲戰(zhàn)戰(zhàn)兢兢地化為灰燼，激情之樹結不出任何水果。



??！除了愛你，我還能做什么，你比上帝之母更令我感到親近。

哪怕像銀色的百合花緩緩升起在海面的阿佛洛狄忒也沒有如此親近。



我做出了自己的選擇，以詩為生，盡管青春已在虛擲的光陰里消逝，

我發(fā)現(xiàn)，情人的桃金娘花冠要比月桂樹編織的詩人桂冠更有魅力。