向诗词翻译家致敬

我生活在美国，可是还是喜欢中国文化。
我盼望有一天，我的城市也有春节游行。

然而，我的城市
爱尔兰人很多
每到 St. Patrick’s Day
都有大型游行

这一天，有诗
虽然没有汉语诗词美
但是也很美

我不懂翻译
也所以也欣赏不了

然而
我知道那是诗
很美的诗

这也是
为什么
翻译家
在我的心中
位置很高

 

 

 

St. Patrick’s Day Without Shamrocks

Mother M. Augustine McKenna, R.S.M. (1819-1883)

 

 

We sought them ‘neath the snow-flakes

And o’er all the frosty ground.

But no leaflet like the Shamrock

On St. Patrick’s Day we found.

And our hearts went back to Erin,

To her dewy vales and hills,

Where the Shamrock twines and clusters

O’er the fields and by the rills.

 

 

Oh, no more, no more, my country!

Shall thy loving daughter lay

Down her head upon thy bosom

While she weeps her tears away.

There the primrose and the daisy

Bloom as in the days of old,

And the violet comes in purple

And the buttercup in gold.

 

 

Kildare’s broad fields are fragrant

With the Shamrock’s breath to-day.

Shamrocks bloom from Clare to Antrim,

From Killarney to Lough Neagh:

And they speak of Patrick’s preaching

With a quiet, voiceless lore,

And they breathe of faith and heaven

All the trefoiled island o’er.

 

 

Wandering listless by the Liffey,

Stoop and pluck the Shamrock green:

What an emblem plain and simple

Of the one true faith is seen!

Of the Father and the Spirit

Speaks the mystic triune leaf.

Of the Son in anguish crying

On the cross, in love and grief.

 

 

Well humility may choose it

For an emblem fair and sweet.

Close beside the poorest cabin

It is pouring fragrance sweet.

Modest is our darling Shamrock,

Useful, charitable, kind,

Clothing mean, deserted places

 

 

With its green leaves intertwined.

With the dew drops shining pearly

As bright gems within its heart,

Pure as purity it seemeth.

True as nature, fair as art.

Fortitude and perseverance

Hath the leaf we love so well.

For ‘tis green through all the winter

In some shady nook or dell.

 

Many a lesson thus it teaches,

Many a wholesome thought recalls,

Many a tear-drop all unbidden

To its cherished memory falls.

For the green of Erin’s banner

Still must stir the Irish heart,

Which in Erin’s many sorrows

Ever, ever must have part.

Oh be true, be true to Erin,

True to faith and true to God.

To St. Patrick, His Apostle,

Who redeemed your native sod!

Never more her mystic emblem

In green Erin may you see,

Let the faith it symbolizes

Be the dearer unto thee.