威廉。巴特勒叶芝(William Bulter Yeats,1865-1939) 是爱尔兰著名诗人、剧作家和散文家，1923年度诺贝尔文学奖得主。 一生创作丰富，备受敬仰。其诗吸收浪漫主义、唯美主义、神秘主义、 象征主义和玄学诗的精华，几经变革，最终熔炼出独特的风格。其艺 术被视为英语诗从传统到现代过渡的缩影。艾略特曾誉之为“二十世 纪最伟大的英语诗人”。叶芝早年的创作具有浪漫主义的华丽风格， 善于营造梦幻般的氛围，然而进入不惑之年后，在现代主义诗人伊兹 拉·庞德等人的影响下，尤其是在其本人参与爱尔兰民族主义政治运 动的切身经验的影响下，叶芝的创作风格发生了比较激烈的变化，更 加趋近现代主义了。 叶芝早期的韵文都与爱尔兰神话和民间传说有关，经常带着神秘和忧 郁的色彩。他的作品不仅受到爱尔兰口头传说的影响还受到英国象征 主义作家威廉，布莱克和玄学的影响。叶艺于1923年获得诺贝尔文 学奖，获奖的理由是“用鼓舞人心的诗篇，以高度的艺术形式 表达了整个民族的精神风貌(inspired poetry,which in a highly artistic form that gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation)
威廉·巴特勒·叶芝（William Bulter Yeats，1865-1939） 是爱尔兰著名诗人、剧作家和散文家，1923 年度诺贝尔文学奖得主。 一生创作丰富，备受敬仰。其诗吸收浪漫主义、唯美主义、神秘主义、 象征主义和玄学诗的精华，几经变革，最终熔炼出独特的风格。其艺 术被视为英语诗从传统到现代过渡的缩影。艾略特曾誉之为“二十世 纪最伟大的英语诗人”。叶芝早年的创作具有浪漫主义的华丽风格， 善于营造梦幻般的氛围，然而进入不惑之年后，在现代主义诗人伊兹 拉·庞德等人的影响下，尤其是在其本人参与爱尔兰民族主义政治运 动的切身经验的影响下，叶芝的创作风格发生了比较激烈的变化，更 加趋近现代主义了。 叶芝早期的韵文都与爱尔兰神话和民间传说有关，经常带着神秘和忧 郁的色彩。他的作品不仅受到爱尔兰口头传说的影响还受到英国象征 主义作家威廉·布莱克和玄学的影响。叶芝于 1923 年获得诺贝尔文 学奖，获奖的理由是“用鼓舞人心的诗篇，以高度的艺术形式 表达了整个民族的精神风貌（inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form that gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation）
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Cast a cold Eye On Life.on Death Horseman.pass by WBYEATS June 3 ,865 January 28 1939 1.The Song of Wandering Aengus I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout. When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And someone called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air. Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun
1. The Song of Wandering Aengus I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout. When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And someone called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air. Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun
我去到榛树林 为了心中有一团火 我砍一条树枝剥去皮 又用钩子在线上串颗浆果 白色的飞蛾扑扇起翅膀 飞蛾一样的星星在夜空中闪烁 我把浆果投进小河 一条银色的小鳟鱼上钩了 我把它放在地板上 又过去把火吹吹亮 可地板上有东西在沙沙响 又有人叫我的名字在耳旁 小鳟鱼早变成个若隐若现的姑娘 苹果花环戴在她头上 她叫着我的名字跑掉了 在渐亮的曙色中不知去向 虽然我已经年迈苍苍 长年在荒郊野冈漂泊 我一定要寻到她的踪迹 亲吻她的芳唇
我去到榛树林 为了心中有一团火 我砍一条树枝剥去皮 又用钩子在线上串颗浆果 白色的飞蛾扑扇起翅膀 飞蛾一样的星星在夜空中闪烁 我把浆果投进小河 一条银色的小鳟鱼上钩了 我把它放在地板上 又过去把火吹吹亮 可地板上有东西在沙沙响 又有人叫我的名字在耳旁 小鳟鱼早变成个若隐若现的姑娘 苹果花环戴在她头上 她叫着我的名字跑掉了 在渐亮的曙色中不知去向 虽然我已经年迈苍苍 长年在荒郊野冈漂泊 我一定要寻到她的踪迹 亲吻她的芳唇
再把她的手儿紧握 我们一起沿着阳光班驳的草丛漫步 去摘采哪怕地老天荒， 只有她和我 月亮的银苹果 太阳的金苹果 2.The Second Coming Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart;the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed,and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction,while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming!Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight:somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs,while all about it Reel shadows of indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again;but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle
再把她的手儿紧握 我们一起沿着阳光班驳的草丛漫步 去摘采 哪怕地老天荒, 只有她和我 月亮的银苹果 太阳的金苹果 2. The Second Coming Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight; somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle
And what rough beast,its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? 第二次圣临 威廉巴特勒叶芝 转啊，转，在不断扩大的旋转中， 猎鹰已听不见放鹰人的呼唤： 万物分崩离析；中心难以维系； 世界呈现出一片混乱， 血染的潮流奔腾汹涌， 天真的礼仪被湮没； 好人缺乏信仰，而坏人 则狂热到了极点。 无疑，某种启示即将到来， 无疑，第二次圣临即将到来。 第二次圣临！这些话尚未出口， 一个巨大的形象来自宇宙之灵 干扰我的视线：在大漠沙海之中， 出现了一个人头狮身像
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? 第二次圣临 威廉·巴特勒·叶芝 转啊，转，在不断扩大的旋转中， 猎鹰已听不见放鹰人的呼唤； 万物分崩离析；中心难以维系； 世界呈现出一片混乱， 血染的潮流奔腾汹涌， 天真的礼仪被湮没; 好人缺乏信仰，而坏人 则狂热到了极点。 无疑，某种启示即将到来， 无疑，第二次圣临即将到来。 第二次圣临！这些话尚未出口， 一个巨大的形象来自宇宙之灵 干扰我的视线：在大漠沙海之中， 出现了一个人头狮身像
目光如烈日般茫然而无情。 它正缓慢地挪动巨腿，沙漠四周 盘旋着愤慨的白鸟阴影。 黑暗再度降临；不过现在我知道 两千年的沉睡被摇篮边的梦魇惊醒， 何等粗野之兽，它的时辰已至， 慵懒地朝伯利恒走去投生。 spiritus mundi:拉丁文"宇宙魂（精神）"，the Spirit of the Universe,来自十七 世纪柏拉图学派学者亨利莫尔，叶芝认为，这种精神与人类的头脑相联系，它 存在于人的潜意识中，这种潜意识保持着人类对自己过去历史的记忆，叶芝 称之为great memory"大记忆”，这些记忆是诗人们象征的源泉。叶芝认为文 化的发展有其周期，且以两千年为一个周期，称之谓“大年”。但在基督文化即 将崩溃，世界面临新旧秩序的交替之际，是否也有什么将在新的摇篮里诞生？ 叶芝似乎有意将那“猛兽”（见《圣经启示录》）写得蠢蠢而动，鲁莽，暖昧， 可疑而又可怖，影射一战给世界带来的破坏和当时人们的困惑与疑虑。 3.A Coat 外衣 W.B.Yeats(1865-1939) W.B.叶芝(1865-1939) 傅浩译 I MADE my song a coat 我为我的歌织就 Covered with embroideries 一身五彩的外衣， Out of old mythologies 上面缀满从古老的 From heel to throat; 神话中抽出的锦绣； But the fools caught it, 可愚人们将它夺去， Wore it in the world's eyes 穿起来在人前炫示， As though they'd wrought it. 俨然出于自己之手。 Song,let them take it, 歌，就让他们拿去， For there's more enterprise 因为需要有更大的勇气 In walking naked. 才敢赤身行走
目光如烈日般茫然而无情。 它正缓慢地挪动巨腿，沙漠四周 盘旋着愤慨的白鸟阴影。 黑暗再度降临；不过现在我知道 两千年的沉睡被摇篮边的梦魇惊醒， 何等粗野之兽，它的时辰巳至， 慵懒地朝伯利恒走去投生。 spiritus mundi： 拉丁文“宇宙魂（精神）”，the Spirit of the Universe, 来自十七 世纪柏拉图学派学者亨利·莫尔，叶芝认为，这种精神与人类的头脑相联系， 它 存在于人的潜意识中， 这种潜意识保持着人类对自己过去历史的记忆，叶芝 称之为 great memory“大记忆”， 这些记忆是诗人们象征的源泉。叶芝认为文 化的发展有其周期，且以两千年为一个周期，称之谓“大年”。但在基督文化即 将崩溃，世界面临新旧秩序的交替之际，是否也有什么将在新的摇篮里诞生？ 叶芝似乎有意将那“猛兽”（见《圣经·启示录》）写得蠢蠢而动，鲁莽，暧昧， 可疑而又可怖，影射一战给世界带来的破坏和当时人们的困惑与疑虑。 3. A Coat 外衣 W. B. Yeats (1865-1939) W.B. 叶芝（1865-1939） 傅浩译 I MADE my song a coat 我为我的歌织就 Covered with embroideries 一身五彩的外衣， Out of old mythologies 上面缀满从古老的 From heel to throat; 神话中抽出的锦绣； But the fools caught it, 可愚人们将它夺去， Wore it in the world's eyes 穿起来在人前炫示， As though they'd wrought it. 俨然出于自己之手。 Song, let them take it, 歌，就让他们拿去， For there's more enterprise 因为需要有更大的勇气 In walking naked. 才敢赤身行走
4.The Coming of Wisdom with Time Though leaves are many,the root is one: Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun: Now I may wither into the truth. 5.No Second Troy Why should I blame her that she filled my days With misery,or that she would of late Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways, Or hurled the little streets upon the great, Had they but courage equal to desire? What could have made her peaceful with a mind That nobleness made simple as a fire, With beauty like a tightened bow,a kind That is not natural in an age like this, Being high and solitary and most stern? Why,what could she have done,being what she is? Was there another Troy for her to burn? 我有什么理由怪她使我痛苦， 说她近日里宁可把最暴烈的行动 教给那些无知的小人物， 让小巷冲上去同大街抗衡， 如果它们的勇气足以同欲望并肩？ 什么能使她平静，而心灵 依然高贵，纯净有如火焰， 她的美又如强弓拉得绷紧， 这绝非当今时代认为自然， 由于它深远、孤独而又清高
4. The Coming of Wisdom with Time Though leaves are many, the root is one； Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun； Now I may wither into the truth. 5. No Second Troy Why should I blame her that she filled my days With misery， or that she would of late Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways， Or hurled the little streets upon the great， Had they but courage equal to desire？ What could have made her peaceful with a mind That nobleness made simple as a fire， With beauty like a tightened bow， a kind That is not natural in an age like this， Being high and solitary and most stern？ Why， what could she have done， being what she is？ Was there another Troy for her to burn？ 我有什么理由怪她使我痛苦， 说她近日里宁可把最暴烈的行动 教给那些无知的小人物， 让小巷冲上去同大街抗衡， 如果它们的勇气足以同欲望并肩？ 什么能使她平静，而心灵 依然高贵，纯净有如火焰， 她的美又如强弓拉得绷紧， 这绝非当今时代认为自然， 由于它深远、孤独而又清高
啊，这般天性，又怎能希望她改换？ 难道还有一个特洛伊供她焚烧？ 6..Sailing to Byzantium That is no country for old men.The young In one another's arms,birds in the trees Those dying generations-at their song, The salmon-falls,the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish,flesh,or fowl,commend all summer long Whatever is begotten,born,and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing intellect. An aged man is but a paltry thing A tattered coat upon a stick,unless Soul clap its hands and sing,and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying Monuments of its own magnificence; And therefore I have sailed the seas and come To the holy city of Byzantium. O sages standing in God's holy fire As in the gold mosaic of a wall, Come from the holy fire,perne in a gyre, And be the singing -masters of my soul. Consume my heart away;sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is;and gather me Into the artifice of eternity. Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enamelling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past,or passing,or to come. 驶向拜占庭
啊，这般天性，又怎能希望她改换？ 难道还有一个特洛伊供她焚烧？ 6.. Sailing to Byzantium That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees – Those dying generations – at their song, The salmon‐falls, the mackerel‐crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing intellect. An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick, unless Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying Monuments of its own magnificence; And therefore I have sailed the seas and come To the holy city of Byzantium. O sages standing in God's holy fire As in the gold mosaic of a wall, Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre, And be the singing‐masters of my soul. Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is; and gather me Into the artifice of eternity. Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enamelling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past, or passing, or to come. 驶向拜占庭