艺文走廊 ✐2016-09-01

颂诗译选

无信仰者得势

凌风 译

 

这里站着假冒为善者穿着暗褐衣衫,
一副安息日的面孔还带着皱眉苦脸。
他说着现今这阴暗时代的故事阴暗,
这个可哀世界充满着最可哀的罪犯;
皱纹的面颊上为別人的罪流着眼淚,
对他里面的地狱就把眼睛闭上不看。

那边是圆滑的圣职人员常挂着笑颜,
怕伤害罪人心地狱的警告他讲不惯。
可怕的事情总沾不着他溫和的舌边,
刺耳的真理会对高贵良善的人冒犯。
那奇異的“重生”,那循理派的“恩典”,
在他的心中,在他讲章里,都难以发现。
柏拉图美好的故事他倒笨拙的讲演,
陈腐的,炉边谈,道德剧,古板而可厌;
能夠下地狱的罪愆,救赎大爱的赦免,
在他的基督和圣经里面都是那样遙远。
他说,人类应该停止犯罪那是最好不过,
如此就会有好的声誉;內心也就有真平安。
他自然知道向上心不能驱使如此作,
但盼望他们仍然会乐於上到天堂。
每个礼拜他总不忘尽责任去作探访,
巧言,滑稽,大笑;把私人的新闻重复传讲;
各样煙薰的美食,对她的奶酪欣赏,
给她点着煙斗,並且把婴孩抱在手上。
或住在大的城市里,穿着漆亮的皮鞋,
修整的假发,合身长衣,闪光的紧裤,
他躬身,谈论政治,学礼仪举止溫如;
最恭谨的询问,最溫雅流畅的笑语;
富人谐语时高声大笑,恭维讲的故事;
对夫人们的时装,注目,注目,再注目;
烹调精妙的火鸡餐最适口美味果腹;
不必为禁食推卻,也可以忘记读书:
但是从他们的教堂看到弟兄被逐出,
他咆哮着讲真理,发天堂的语声,
使罪咎导向撒但坠落路径的心寒战兢,
使腳步被吸引回转,死亡的耳能听。
他喊着:“让愚昧人飢饿,我卻谨慎
在我的巢中舒适生活,也必舒适而终。”

在那里站着无信仰者的现代品类,
被咒诅的栽子为地狱的种族。
他不像理神派,也不属基督徒,
一切原则,和一切品德,他一应俱无。
对於他,所有都是一样,不分善和恶,
耶和华,株庇特,喇嘛,或是鬼魔;
牟罕默德的喊叫,或以赛亚的唱诗;
印地安人的祝禳,或基督徒的颂歌。
对於他,所有自然的意欲都是好的,
他嗜欲燉肉,或摩和克人嗜欲流血,
生成不能知道,或爱,全然美好的思想,
也摸不着路径飞翔到荣美的天堂。
但他最亲爱的自己选择大袞!去景仰;
去穿戴,去嬉戏,去赌咒,去酗酒,去嫖娼;
他去赛马;或別人竞赛,作手法欺骗;
他起誓,最快乐荣光是观赏斗鸡场。
他的灵魂沒有穿着神圣的属性,
只是美好钟表弹簧在伟大的机器,
运作起来比睿腾豪斯的设计完美,
身体;人的主要部分;人,他自己;
人,是傑出的畜生最高贵的形体,
不披鬃毛的豬,沒有尾巴的大猴子。
他光荣的目的—交配,吃喝,和死,
作牡蛎的坟场,肥嫩阉鸡的墓地。

  德怀特(Timothy Dwight, 1752-1817)美国教牧,教育家,诗人。为美国神学家爱德务滋(Jonathan Edwards)之外孙,曾任耶鲁大学(Yale University)校长。其孙同名Timothy Dwight亦任耶鲁神学教授及校长。

 

The Triumph of Infidelity

Here stood Hypocrisy, in sober brown,
His sabbath face all sorrow'd with a frown.
A dismal tale he told of dismal times,
And this sad world brimfull of saddest crimes;
Furrowed his cheeks with tears for others' sin,
But closed his eyelids on the hell within.

There smiled the smooth Divine, unused to wound
The sinner's heart with hell's alarming sound.
No terrors on his gentle tongue attend,
No grating truths the nicest ear offend.
That strange "New Birth", that methodistic "Grace"
Nor in his heart, nor sermons, found a place.
Plato's fine tales he clumsily retold,
Trite, fireside, moral see-saws, dull as old;
His Christ and Bible placed at good remove
Guilt hell-deserving, and forgiving love.
'Twas best, he said, mankind should cease to sin;
Good fame required it; so did peace within.
Their honours, well he knew, would ne'er be driven;
But hoped they still would please to go to heaven.
Each week, he paid his visitation dues;
Coaxed, jested, laughed; rehearsed the private news;
Smoked with each goody, thought her cheese excelled;
Her pipe he lighted, and her baby held.
Or placed in some great town, with lacquered shoes,
Trim wig, and trimmer gown, and glistening hose,
He bowed, talked politics, learned manners mild;
Most meekly questioned, and most smoothly smiled;
At rich men's jests laughed loud, their stories praised;
Their wives' new patterns gazed, and gazed, and gazed;
Most daintily on pampered turkeys dined;
Nor shrunk with fasting, nor with study pined:
Yet from their churches saw his brethren driven
Who thundered truth and spoke the voice of heaven,
Chilled trembling guilt, in Satan's headlong path
Charmed the feet back, and roused the ear of death.
"Let fools", he cried, "starve on, while prudent I
Snug in my nest shall live, and snug shall die."

There stood the infidel of modern breed,
Blest vegetation of infernal seed.
Alike no Deist, and no Christian, he;
But from all principle, all virtue, free.
To him all things the same, as good or evil:
Jehovah, Jove, the Lama, or the Devil;
Mohammed's braying, or Isaiah's lays;
The Indian's pow-wows; or the Christian's praise.
With him all natural desires are good:
His thrist for stews; the Mohawk's thirst for blood,
Made not to know, or love, the all-beauteous mind
Or wing through heaven his path to bliss refined.
But his dear self, choice Dagon! to adore;
To dress, to game, to swear, to drink, to whore;
To race his steeds; or cheat, when others run;
Pit tortured cocks, and swear 'tis glorious fun.
His soul not clothed with attributes divine
But a nice watch-spring to that grand machine,
That work more nice than Rittenhouse can plan;
The body; man's chief part; himself, the man;
Man, that illustrious brute of noblest shape,
A swine unbristled, and an untailed ape.
To couple, eat, and die— his glorious doom:
The oyster's churchyard, and the capon's tomb.


Timothy Dwight, 1752-1817
American clergyman, educator & poet

翼展视窗阔 报取智域深

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特殊的圣诞节 ✍张在孜

谈天说地

两柜与救恩 ✍于中旻

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再作婴孩 ✍于中旻

艺文走廊

疫境散记 ✍凌风

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回顾与前瞻,喜乐迎新年 ✍林向阳

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有福的确据 ✍余卓雄

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我们来谈天(四)天上的生命 ✍余仙

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思情话意-书法 ✍刘翼凌