A Woman Homer Sung
|
荷马歌唱过的女人
|
If any man drew near |
在我年轻的时候 |
When I was young, |
如果哪个男人走近她, |
I thought,‘He holds her dear,' |
我会想:“他喜欢她,” |
And shook with hate and fear. |
便陷于恼火、恐惧。 |
But O!'twas bitter wrong |
可是啊,若他无动于衷地 |
If he could pass her by |
走过她的身边, |
With an indifferent eye. |
却是件更糟的事呢。 |
Whereon I wrote and wrought, |
于是我开始写作, |
And now, being grey, |
从青春写到老去, |
I dream that I have brought |
我梦到我的诗笔 |
To such a pitch my thought |
达到了那样的高度, |
That coming time can say, |
足以让后来人说出: |
‘He shadowed in a glass |
“他像一面镜子 |
What thing her body was.' |
记下了她的美。” |
For she had fiery blood |
因为,在我年轻的时候, |
When I was young, |
她美得火焰般热烈, |
And trod so sweetly proud |
翩然而高贵的脚步 |
As'twere upon a cloud, |
在一朵云彩上行走。 |
A woman Homer sung, |
那个荷马歌唱过的女人 |
That life and letters seem |
生活中,或是文字里, |
But an heroic dream. |
都是一场英雄的梦。 |