勃朗宁夫人诗选第一首

勃朗宁夫人诗选第一首

我曾悄思岑想，忒奥克里托斯怎样咏唱，

那些静好岁月，深心向往，甜美如斯；

年复一年，从未虚至，

为注定会死亡的众生带来这珍贵的馈赠——

不论青年还是老人，

从时光的高贵之手，又获得这珍贵一年。

我独自沉吟，古调难唱，

不禁泪眼婆娑——

我看见往昔岁月一幕幕流转眼前，

甜美时光，哀伤岁月，我生命中的绵绵愁思，

一个接一个，它们如幽灵掠过我身。

我犹独自饮泣，

突然我感到身后袭来一个神秘身影，

他拽着我的头发把我往后一拉；

我奋力挣扎，

耳边响起不容挑战的嗓音——

“猜猜看这次是谁抓住了你？”

“死亡。”我答。

但是，噢，听呐，响起了那银子一般动人的回答：

“不，不是死亡，是爱情。”

I thought once how Theocritus had sung

Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,

Who each one in a gracious hand appears

To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:

And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,

I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,

The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,

Those of my own life, who by turns had flung

A shadow across me. Straightaway I was 'ware,

So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move

Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;

And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, —

“Guess now who holds thee? ”—“Death, ” I said, But, there,

The silver answer rang，“Not Death, but Love.”

诗歌摘自《勃朗宁夫人葡萄牙十四行诗集》，张媛译

勃朗宁夫人诗选第一首