My
spirit is too weak; mortality Weighs
heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And
each imagined pinnacle and steep Of
godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like
a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet
‘tis a gentle luxury to weep, That
I have not the cloudy winds to keep Fresh
for the opening of the morning’s eye. Such
dim-conceived glories of the brain Bring
round the heart an indescribable feud; So
do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That
mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude Wasting
of old Time—with a billowy main, A
sun, a shadow of a magnitude.
初见额尔金石雕有感 约翰·济慈
我的心灵太脆弱了——催命的无常 沉重地压着我，像无可奈何的睡眠， 一件件苦心的杰构、想象的峰巅、 超凡的艺术都告诉我：我必将死亡， 像患病的鹰隼，只向着高空怅望。 然而哭泣又未免奢侈了，尽管 我不能驾着云端的清风到天边 去保住那睁开眼睛的鲜丽晨光。 这样的惨淡经营，鬼斧神工， 带给我的心以争斗，不可名状； 这些珍奇直使人目眩心痛—— 希腊的壮观熬过古老的时光 无情的摧毁——它带了海浪的汹涌—— 也带来太阳——一抹雄伟辉煌。
（屠岸 译） |
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