Walt Whitman - The Artilleryman’s Vision 汉译

While my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long,

And my head on the pillow rests at home, and the vacant midnight passes,

And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear, just hear, the breath of my infant,

There in the room as I wake from sleep this vision presses upon me;

The engagement opens there and then in fantasy unreal,

The skirmishers begin, they crawl cautiously ahead, I hear the irregular snap! snap!

I hear the sounds of the different missiles, the short t-h-t! t-h-t! of the rifle-balls,

I see the shells exploding leaving small white clouds, I hear the great shells shrieking as they pass,

The grape like the hum and whirr of wind through the trees, (tumultuous now the contest rages,)

All the scenes at the batteries rise in detail before me again,

The crashing and smoking, the pride of the men in their pieces,

The chief-gunner ranges and sights his piece and selects a fuse of the right time,

After firing I see him lean aside and look eagerly off to note the effect;

Elsewhere I hear the cry of a regiment charging, (the young colonel leads himself this time with brandish’d sword,)

I see the gaps cut by the enemy’s volleys, (quickly fill’d up, no delay,)

I breathe the suffocating smoke, then the flat clouds hover low concealing all;

Now a strange lull for a few seconds, not a shot fired on either side,

Then resumed the chaos louder than ever, with eager calls and orders of officers,

While from some distant part of the field the wind wafts to my ears a shout of applause, (some special success,)

And ever the sound of the cannon far or near, (rousing even in dreams a devilish exultation and all the old mad joy in the depths of my soul,)

And ever the hastening of infantry shifting positions, batteries, cavalry, moving hither and thither,

(The falling, dying, I heed not, the wounded dripping and red heed not, some to the rear are hobbling,)

Grime, heat, rush, aide-de-camps galloping by or on a full run,

With the patter of small arms, the warning s-s-t of the rifles, (these in my vision I hear or see,)

And bombs bursting in air, and at night the vari-color’d rockets.

炮手在梦幻中所见

我妻子在我身旁躺着谁觉，战争早已结束，

我的头在家里枕着枕头，空无一物的午夜已经过去，

在寂静中，黑暗中，我听见，仅只是微微听见我那婴儿的鼻息，

就在屋里我醒来时，这个梦境仍历历在目；

在虚无的幻境中战斗又在彼时彼地打响了，

散兵们开始行动，他们小心翼翼地向前爬去，我听见那不规则的一声声枪响！

我听见不同武器的声音，短促的步枪子弹的突突声！

我看见子弹爆炸时留下的小小白烟，我听见炮弹飞过时的尖叫声，

葡萄弹像风穿树木时的呼啸声（战斗现在变得激烈了，）

一切炮战场面的细节又重新在我眼前出现，

爆炸声和冒出的烟雾，兵士们对他们的武器感到的骄傲，

那主炮手把大炮对好瞄准，选定了合适的时间引爆，

放响后我看见他斜着身子仔细察看效果如何；

在另一处我听见兵团冲锋的呐喊声，（年轻的上校这次举着刺刀亲自领先，）

我看见敌人的排炮留下的空隙，（马上就填补，毫不耽误，）

我呼吸那窒息人的浓烟，然后是扁平的云层压下来遮盖了一切！

现在是几秒钟的奇怪暂停，双方都没有射击，

然后又开始了更加震耳的一片混乱，军官们在紧张地高呼，发布命令，

而战场远处的风声传来一阵欢呼声，（某一特殊胜利，）

还永远是远近的炮火声，（甚至在梦中还引起了灵魂深处的极度狂欢和那种旧时的疯了似的兴高采烈，）

永远是步兵在匆匆改变位置，炮兵，骑兵，在这里那里调动着，

（倒下，垂危，我不去理会，伤员流着鲜血我不去理会，有些在一拐一拐退去后方，）

污垢，奇热，冲向前去，副官们骑马跑过或者全速奔跑，

轻武器的噼啪声，步枪嗖嗖的警告声，（这些我在我的梦幻中听见看见，）