William Blake - Blind-Man’s Buff 汉译

When silver snow decks Susan’s clothes,

And jewel hangs at the shepherd’s nose,

The blushing bank is all my care,

With hearth so red and walls so fair.

‘Heap the sea-coal; come heap it higher;

The oaken log lay on the fire.’

The well-washed stools, a circling row,

With lad and lass, how fair the show!

The merry can of nut-brown ale,

The laughing jest, the love-sick tale,

Till tired of chat, the game begins;

The lasses prick the lads with pins;

Roger from Dolly twitched the stool,

She falling, kissed the ground, poor fool!

She blushed so red, with sidelong glance

At hob-nail Dick, who grieved the chance.

But now for blind-man’s buff they call;

Of each encumbrance clear the hall—

Jenny her silken kerchief folds,

And blear-eyed Will the black lot holds.

Now laughing stops, with ‘Silence! Hush!’

And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push.

The blind-man’s arms, extended wide,

Sam slips between—`O woe betide

Thee, clumsy Will!’—but tittering Kate

Is penned up in the corner straight!

And now Will’s eyes beheld the play,

He thought his face was t’other way.

Now, Kitty, now! what chance hast thou,

Roger so near thee trips, I vow!

She catches him—then Roger ties

His own head up—but not his eyes;

For through the slender cloth he sees,

And runs at Sam, who slips with ease

His clumsy hold; and, dodging round,

Sukey is tumbled on the ground!

See what it is to play unfair!

Where cheating is, there’s mischief there.

But Roger still pursues the chase—

‘He sees! he sees!’ cries softly Grace;

O Roger, thou, unskilled in art,

Must, surer bound, go through thy part!

Now Kitty, pert, repeats the rhymes

And Roger turns him round three times;

Then pauses ere he starts—but Dick

Was mischief bent upon a trick;

Down on his hands and knees he lay,

Directly in the Blind man’s way—

Then cries out, ‘Hem!’ — Hodge heard and ran

With hood-winked chance—sure of his man;

But down he came. Alas, how frail

Our best of hopes, how soon they fail!

With crimson drops he stains the ground,

Confusion startles all around.

Poor piteous Dick supports his head,

And fain would cure the hurt he made;

But Kitty hasted with a key,

And down his back they straight convey

The cold relief— the blood is stayed,

And Hodge again holds up his head.

Such are the fortunes of the game,

And those who play should stop the same

By wholesome laws, such as: all those

Who on the blinded man impose

Stand in his stead; as long a-gone

When men were first a nation grown;

Lawless they lived— till wantonness

And liberty began to increase,

And one man lay in another’s way;

Then laws were made to keep fair play.