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他们都去矣

凌风 译

 

他们都去矣进入那光的境域中,
  留下我独自坐在这里!
他们依然美好光明的记忆,
  使我悲哀的思想清晰;

那记忆灿烂闪耀在我阴翳的胸臆,
  仿佛群星在幽暗的天际,—
或像在太阳隐沒以后,
  点缀着这山的微光依稀。

我看见他们行走在荣耀的空中,
  他们的光使我的日子蒙羞,—
我的日子最好也不过沉闷故旧,
  仅是将熄灭归於腐朽。

啊,神圣的盼望!高尚的谦怀,—
  如同诸天高越尘埃!
借着你的行动向我显示
  点燃起我已冷的爱。

宝贵的,美好的死,—义人的珍宝,—
  只是在黑暗中显耀!
何等的奧秘在尘土之外,
  人岂能展望那个目标!

人寻得巢中羽毛未丰的雏鸟,
  乍见难相信那鸟会飞高;
但现在它在幽美的山谷丛林鸣叫,
  对於他何曾知晓。

然而,天使们有时在更快乐的梦中,
  会喚醒灵魂当人在睡觉,
奇異的思想超越我们惯常的主调,
  短暂的瞥见荣耀。

如果把一颗星拘禁在坟墓里,
  她被囚的火焰必然在那里烧起,
但当那闭锁她的手稍留空隙,
  她必然会照遍天际。

噢,永远生命的父,
  所有受造者都因你得荣耀!
再借你的灵从这奴役的世界
  进入真正的自由。

求你消除这些过眼的云雾,
  会遮掩我的视线;
或从此迁我到那山
  我就不需镜子清楚可见。

 

They Are All Gone

They are all gone into the world of light,
  And I alone sit lingering here!
Their very memory is fair and bright,
  And my sad thoughts doth clear;

It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast,
  Like stars upon some gloomy grove, —
Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest
  After the sun's remove.

I see them walking in an air of glory,
  Whose light doth trample on my days, —
My days which are at best but dull and hoary,
  Mere glimmering and decays.

O holy hope! and high humility, —
  High as the heavens above!
These are your walks, and you have showed them me
  To kindle my cold love.

Dear, beauteous death, — the jewel of the just, —
  Shining nowhere but in the dark!
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust,
  Could man outlook that mark!

He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know,
  At first sight, if the bird be flown;
But what fair dell or grove he sings in now,
  That is to him unknown.

And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams
  Call to the soul when man doth sleep,
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes,
  And into glory peep.

If a star were confined into a tomb,
  Her captive flames must needs burn there,
But when the hand that locked her up gives room,
  She'll shine through all the sphere.

O Father of eternal life, and all
  Created glories under thee!
Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall
  Into true liberty.

Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill
  My perspective still as they pass;
Or else remove me hence unto that hill
  Where I shall need no glass.

Henry Vaughan, 1621-1695
British Wales mystic poet

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2018.9

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