郭沫若译波斯诗歌《鲁拜集》连载24

70

皮毬也只唯命是从，

一任戏毬者到处抛弄；

是“他”把你抛到地来，

一切的原由，只有他懂——他懂！

LXX

The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes,

But Here or There as strikes the Player goes;

And He that toss'd you down into the Field,

He knows about it all—He knows—He knows!

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71

指动字成，字成指动：

任你如何至诚，如何机智，

难叫他收回成命消去半行，

任你眼泪流完也难洗掉一字。

LXXI

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

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72

人称天宇是个覆盆，

我们匍匐着在此生死，

莫用举手去求他哀怜——

因为他之不能动移犹如我你。

LXXII

And that inverted Bowl they call The Sky,

Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die,

Lift not your hands to It for help—for It

As impotently moves as you or I.

——作者：奥马.海亚姆，郭沫若(中文)译 ，菲茨吉拉德(英语)译