纳兰性德·《金缕曲·慰西溟》英译

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但由他、

天公簸弄，

莫教磨涅。

失意每多如意少，

终古几人称屈。

须知道、

福因才折。

独卧藜床看北斗，

背高城、

玉笛吹成血。

听谯鼓，

二更彻。

丈夫未肯因人热。

且乘闲、

五湖料理，

扁舟一叶。

泪似秋霖挥不尽，

洒向野田黄蝶。

须不羡、

承明班列。

马迹车尘忙未了，

任西风、

吹冷长安月。

又萧寺，

花如雪。

Grieve Not

Na-lan Xing-de

Why make misery more miserable? Let the gods do what they will, adamant we are, unsullied we shall remain.

Life is for us almost perpetual frustration. And no wonder. To show intelligence is to lose grace; it’s been so from time immemorial. Many — like us — were denied justice. How many, who knows?

Here I am all alone, stretched on a rude couch but still with an eye to the stars. Somewhere below the city walls some flutist is pouring out his heart in a torrent of agonizing music. Now I hear the watchtower drum booming out the hour: the dark night is not half way through.

Who would be a man shall seek no patronage. Better get ready a boat while we can, that we may leave these shores and lose ourselves in the watery wastes.

There’s no stanching my tears, copious as the autumn rain. Any living creatures take notice? Perhaps a few butterflies in the deserted fields.

Not that I envy those at court. A dizzy whirl, and then, when the west wind hits the capital, when even the moon shudders — what then?

Yet the cloistered flowers are chaste as virgin snow.