Selected poems：《T. S. 艾略特詩全集》
2025/04/23 05:27:13
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Selected poems：《T. S. 艾略特詩全集》
書名：T. S. 艾略特詩全集
作者：T. S. 艾略特（Thomas Stearns Eliot）
譯者：陳東飈
出版社：華東師範大學
出版日期：2024/08
〈一段歌詞〉
若時間與空間，如聖賢所言，
是不可能存在的東西，
那感受不到腐爛的太陽
不比我們更宏偉神奇。
究竟又為何，愛人，我們要祈求
活上一個世紀？
只活一天的蝴蝶
已活過了永恆萬世。
我送你鮮花之時露水
尚在藤上抖顫，
那花卻枯萎在野蜂飛來
吮吸薔薇之前。
且讓我們趕快重新採擷
也莫見它們凋零而淒然，
我們相愛的日子雖少
何不讓它們神聖超凡。
寫於1905年1月；《史密斯學院紀錄》（Smith Academy Record），1905年4月
Song
If space and time, as sages say,
Are things which cannot be,
The fly that lives a single day
Has lived as long as we.
But let us live while yet we may,
While love and life are free,
For time is time, and runs away,
Though sages disagree.
The flowers I sent thee when the dew
Was trembling on the vine,
Were withered ere the wild bee flew
To suck the eglantine.
But let us haste to pluck anew
Nor mourn to see them pine,
And though the flowers of love be few
Yet let them be divine.
〈蒙帕爾納斯第四隨想曲〉
我們轉過街角
然後又一次
此處一片灰暗風景有雨水
在黑傘，雨衣之上，
並從石板屋頂上潑濺
到一大片泥沙之中。
一排黯黑的樹木背後
滴滴答答的灰泥房屋站立
像行乞之人無悔
於未償的債務
手插在兜裡，決心未定，
被嘲笑也無動於衷。
在這樣零散的思緒間
我們轉過街角；
但為什麼我們如此難以取悅？
1910年12月
Fourth Caprice in Montparnasse
We turn the corner of the street
And again
Here is a landscape grey with rain
On black umbrellas, waterproofs,
And dashing from the slated roofs
Into a mass of mud and sand.
Behind a row of blackened trees.
The dripping plastered houses stand
Like mendicants without regrets
For unpaid debts
Hand in pocket, undecided,
Indifferent if derided.
Among such scattered thoughts as these
We turn the corner of the street;
But why are we so hard to please?
〈Entretien dans un parc〉（一個公園裡的交談）
[難道是當初一個早晨或一個下午
要為這樣的事情負責！]
我們一路走，在四月的樹下，
伴著它們的不確定性
抗拒變得激烈的意圖。
我疑惑那究竟是太遲還是太早
對於我們生命所需的決斷。
突然間無能的幻象一閃
我抓住她的手
一聲不吭隨後我們依舊往前走。
顯然世界不曾被改變。
沒有發生過任何需要修正的事。
她微笑，彷彿，也許，驚悉
自己的鎮定被攪擾得如此之少。
並不是生命已做出了一個新決定——
純粹就是已經這樣發生在她和我身上。
然而在我們未發一言的此刻
它卻終於變得有點好笑
和刺激。整個場景都荒謬無稽！
她和我自己和落到我們頭上的事
以及我們感覺，或感覺不到的東西；
以及我的惱怒。一輪又一輪，如在一口冒著泡
而不會冷卻的鍋中
在火爐上沸騰，噝噝發燙
在嘲弄的火爐之上。
——走進一條死衚衕，駐足於殘破的牆頭
上面滿是招貼，粉筆的幼稚塗畫！——
但假如我們原本可以躲開我們自己
什麼解釋或許就都免掉了——
絕不會絆倒在未成形的結局之上。
我們無助。不過……真是莫名其妙……奇怪……
一個人就沒法始終向前，像螞蟻或鼴鼠那樣嗎？
有朝一日，假如上帝——
然而，好個塵封靈魂的展現！
1911年2月
Entretien dans un parc
Was it a morning or an afternoon
That has such things to answer for!]
We walked along, under the April trees,
With their uncertainties
Struggling intention that becomes intense.
I wonder if it is too late or soon
For the resolution that our lives demand.
With a sudden vision of incompetence
I seize her hand In silence and we walk on as before.
And apparently the world has not been changed;
Nothing has happened that demands revision.
She smiles, as if, perhaps, surprised to see
So little her composure disarranged:
It is not that life has taken a new decision—
It has simply happened so to her and me.
And yet this while we have not spoken a word
It becomes at last a bit ridiculous
And irritating.
All the scene’s absurd!
She and myself and what has come to us
And what we feel, or not;
And my exasperation.
Round and round, as in a bubbling pot That will not cool
Simmering upon the fire, piping hot
Upon the fire of ridicule.
--Up a blind alley, stopped with broken walls
Papered with posters, chalked with childish scrawls!—
But if we could have given ourselves the slip
What explanations might have been escaped—
No stumbling over ends unshaped.
We are helpless. Still . . . it was unaccountable . . . odd...
Could not one keep ahead, like ants or moles?
Some day, if God—
But then, what opening out of dusty souls!
