葉慈【快樂的牧人之歌】The Song of the Happy Shepherd by Yeats

Traveling Back to the Dreamland吟詩頌曲歸夢園

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阿卡狄的叢林已經死去
他們古老的歡樂也已過去
世界靠夢想懷古不已
灰色真理是她塗彩的玩具
但她那不安的頭仍在轉動
噢，世上有病的孩兒們
所有一切變動的事物中
按克羅諾斯陳腔濫調
令人厭倦地旋舞而去
唯有詞章真正美麗
黷武的君王如今安在
他們嘲弄詞章-老天爺
黷武的君王如今安在？
兒童讀糾纏不清的故事
結結巴巴說出的一句廢話
就是那些君王的光榮
舊時代的君王已經死了
也許轉悠的地球本身
不過是突然燃燒的字眼
一瞬間聽見貝克朗一聲
驚擾了無窮無盡的夢幻
因此崇拜塵封的遺跡
並不聰明，這也是真的
毋須去奮力追求真理
你一切辛勞只會在夢上加夢
只有你心中存在真理
因此不必向占星家學習
他們用天文鏡追蹤流星旋轉的路
因此這也是真的，不去聽
他們的話-冰冷的星毒
已經劈開了、分裂了他們的心靈
他們關於人的真理已經死盡
到淺吟清唱的海邊
去撿些曲折的、暗藏著回音的貝殼
將你的故事對著它的唇訴說
他們會成為你的安慰者
一瞬間把你煩惱的字句
重鑄成優美的曲調
直到他們哀傷地唱著消隱
和珍珠兄弟死在一道
為了真正美麗的字句
唱吧，因為這也是真理
我得走了！在一座墳上
百合和黃水仙飄盪
我將取悅於不幸的牧神
用快樂的歌聲迎接曙光
他葬身於睡意濃濃的土下方：
我還夢見他行走草地
在露水間幽魂般遊盪
浸透了我快樂的歌吟
關於古老土地的多夢的青春
啊，她不再作夢了，你作夢吧！
因為山崖上罌粟花開得美麗
夢吧，夢吧，因為這也是真理
The Song of the happy shepherd
The woods of Arcady are dead,
And over is their antique joy;
Of old the world on dreaming fed;
Grey Truth is now her painted toy;
Yet still she turns her restless head:
But O， sick children of the world,
Of all the many changing things
In dreary dancing past us whirled,
To the cracked tune that Chronos sings,
Words alone are certain good.
Where are now the warring kings,
Word be-mockers？—By the Rood
Where are now the warring kings?
An idle word is now their glory,
By the stammering schoolboy said,
Reading some entangled story:
The kings of the old time are dead;
The wandering earth herself may be
Only a sudden flaming word,
In clanging space a moment heard,
Troubling the endless reverie.
Then nowise worship dusty deeds,
Nor seek, for this is also sooth,
To hunger fiercely after truth,
Lest all thy toiling only breeds
New dreams, new dreams; there is no truth
Saving in thine own heart. Seek, then,
No learning from the starry men,
Who follow with the optic glass
The whirling ways of stars that pass —
Seek, then, for this is also sooth,
No word of theirs—the cold star-bane
Has cloven and rent their hearts in twain,
And dead is all their human truth.
Go gather by the humming sea
Some twisted, echo-harbouring shell,
And to its lips thy story tell,
And they thy comforters will be,
Rewording in melodious guile
Thy fretful words a little while，
Till they shall singing fade in ruth
And die a pearly brotherhood;
For words alone are certain good：
Sing, then, for this is also sooth.
I must be gone: there is a grave
Where daffodil and lily wave,
And I would please the hapless faun,
Buried under the sleepy ground,
With mirthful songs before the dawn.
His shouting days with mirth were crowned;
And still I dream he treads the lawn,
Walking ghostly in the dew,
Pierced by my glad singing through,
My songs of old earth‘s dreamy youth:
But ah! she dreams not now; dream thou!
For fair are poppies on the brow:
Dream, dream, for this is also sooth.
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