柔柔地,暮色中,一个女人正对我哼唱
把我带回远去的岁月,直到我看见
一个小孩坐在钢琴下,琴弦叮咚铿锵
他依在母亲处之泰然的纤足上,母亲
微笑着唱着
不由自主地,受控于歌中的隐伏
拽我回溯往昔,直至抽泣的心
泊在一个冬夜,周日的一截旧时光里,
在屋内
圣歌弥漫舒适的客厅,琴音叮咚指引
因而,即便现在这位歌手哗然高歌,
庞大的黑色钢琴激情奔泻
也是徒劳
童年的美好时光
深植于心,我堂堂男儿在记忆的潮水中脆弱不堪一击,哭得
像个孩子
(安琪尔 译)
#Piano
By D. H. Lawrence
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the
tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who
smiles as she sings.
In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter
outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano
our guide.
So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The
glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a
child for the past. |
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