頌詩譯選

他們都去矣

凌風 譯

 

他們都去矣進入那光的境域中，
　　留下我獨自坐在這裏！
他們依然美好光明的記憶，
　　使我悲哀的思想清晰；

那記憶燦爛閃耀在我陰翳的胸臆，
　　仿佛群星在幽暗的天際，—
或像在太陽隱沒以後，
　　點綴着這山的微光依稀。

我看見他們行走在榮耀的空中，
　　他們的光使我的日子蒙羞，—
我的日子最好也不過沉悶故舊，
　　僅是將熄滅歸於腐朽。

啊，神聖的盼望！高尚的謙懷，—
　　如同諸天高越塵埃！
藉着你的行動向我顯示
　　點燃起我已冷的愛。

寶貴的，美好的死，—義人的珍寶，—
　　只是在黑暗中顯耀！
何等的奧秘在塵土之外，
　　人豈能展望那個目標！

人尋得巢中羽毛未豐的雛鳥，
　　乍見難相信那鳥會飛高；
但現在它在幽美的山谷叢林鳴叫，
　　對於他何曾知曉。

然而，天使們有時在更快樂的夢中，
　　會喚醒靈魂當人在睡覺，
奇異的思想超越我們慣常的主調，
　　短暫的瞥見榮耀。

如果把一顆星拘禁在墳墓裏，
　　她被囚的火焰必然在那裏燒起，
但當那閉鎖她的手稍留空隙，
　　她必然會照遍天際。

噢，永遠生命的父，
　　所有受造者都因你得榮耀！
再藉你的靈從這奴役的世界
　　進入真正的自由。

求你消除這些過眼的雲霧，
　　會遮掩我的視線；
或從此遷我到那山
　　我就不需鏡子清楚可見。

 

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