Stephen Vincent Benét - 1935 汉译

All night they marched, the infantrymen under pack,

But the hands gripping the rifles were naked bone

And the hollow pits of the eyes stared, vacant and black,

When the moonlight shone.

The gas mask lay like a blot on the empty chest,

The slanting helmets were spattered with rust and mold,

But they burrowed the hill for the machine-gun nest

As they had of old.

And the guns rolled, and the tanks, but there was no sound,

Never the gasp or rustle of living men

Where the skeletons strung their wire on disputed ground…

I knew them, then.

“It is seventeen years,” I cried. “you must come no more.

We know your names. We know that you are the dead.

Must you march forever from France and the last, blind war?”

“Fool! From the next!” they said.

一九三五

斯蒂芬·文森特·勃耐

驮着背包的步兵一整夜都在行进，

可他们握枪的手却是裸露的骨头，

而在茫然凝望的是黑洞洞眼窟窿——

那是月光照耀的时候。

防毒面具在空荡荡的胸前像污渍，

歪斜戴着的钢盔布满锈迹和霉斑；

他们挖掘着山头，为机枪构筑掩体，

一如他们从前那样干。

炮声隆隆，坦克在冲，但没一点声响，

也不有活人喘息或衣物窸窣之声——

骷髅们在有争议的地方架铁丝网……

于是我就认出了他们。

我喊，“有十七年啦；你们千万别再来。

我们知道你们的名字；你们早死掉。

你们老得从法国、从上次混战开来？”

“傻瓜！从下次战争！”他们道。