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    秋颂(To Autumn)

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    济慈,全名约翰·济慈(John Keats),出生于18世纪末年的伦敦,他是杰出的英诗作家之一,也是浪漫派的主要成员。他的墓志铭写着:Here lies one,whose name was written in water.(此地长眠者,声名水上书。)  

     

    Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,   
    Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun,   
    Conspiring with him how to load and bless   
    With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;   
    To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,   
    And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;   
    To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells   
    With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,   
    And still more, later flowers for the bees,   
    Until they think warm days will never cease,   
    For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.   
    雾气洋溢、果实圆熟的秋,   
    你和成熟的太阳成为友伴;   
    你们密谋用累累的珠球,   
    缀满茅屋檐下的葡萄藤蔓;   
    使屋前的老树背负着苹果,   
    让熟味透进果实的心中,   
    使葫芦胀大,鼓起了榛子壳,   
    好塞进甜核;又为了蜜蜂   
    一次一次开放过迟的花朵,   
    使它们以为日子将永远暖和,   
    因为夏季早填满它们的粘巢。

     

    Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?   
    Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find   
    Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,   
    Thy hair sort-lifted by the winnowing wind;   
    Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,  
    Dows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook   
    Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers.   
    And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep   
    Steady thy laden head across a brook;   
    Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,   
    Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.   
    谁不经常看见你伴着谷仓?   
    在田野里也可以把你找到,   
    弥有时随意坐在打麦场上,   
    让发丝随着簸谷的风轻飘;   
    有时候,为罂粟花香所沉迷,   
    你倒卧在收割一半的田垄,   
    让镰刀歇在下一畦的花旁;   
    或者.像拾穗人越过小溪,   
    你昂首背着谷袋,投下倒影,   
    或者就在榨果架下坐几点钟,   
    你耐心地瞧着徐徐滴下的酒浆。

    Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?   
    Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,   
    While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,   
    And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;   
    Then in a waiful choir the small gnats mourn   
    Among the river sallows, borne aloft   
    Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;   
    And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;   
    Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft   
    The red-breast whistles form a garden-croft;   
    And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
    啊.春日的歌哪里去了?   
    但不要想这些吧,你也有你的音乐   
    当波状的云把将逝的一天映照,   
    以胭红抹上残梗散碎的田野,   
    这时啊,河柳下的一群小飞虫   
    就同奏哀音,它们忽而飞高,   
    忽而下落,随着微风的起灭;   
    篱下的蟋蟀在歌唱,在园中   
    红胸的知更鸟就群起呼哨;   
    而群羊在山圈里高声默默咩叫;   
    丛飞的燕子在天空呢喃不歇。


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