[美队]茂迪∙牧乐Maud Muller

来源: 2013-02-06 19:23:42 [] [博客] [旧帖] [给我悄悄话] 本文已被阅读: 次 (13899 bytes)

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Maud Muller    茂迪·牧乐
 
 John Whittier   中诗翻译:京燕儿

茂迪·牧乐在夏日草原上
锄下稻草弥散芬芳
她磨破的帽檐下焕发
平实的美感,质朴的健康
欢唱着心曲,自编的歌谣
知更鸟也忙不迭在树上迴璇

每当她眺望远方的城镇
鸟瞰山坡畔白茫茫一片
甜美的歌声消失了,隐约的不安
莫名的企盼涌动心间
做一场不敢做的梦
期待一份未知的奢华

法官骑马从小道缓缓而来
梳理骏马栗色鬃毛
勒住缰绳来到荫凉
苹果树下与少女打招呼
可否喝口那潺潺溪水
流过草原越过小路

她弯腰在涌起的清泉边
用锡质小杯子舀起来
含羞递上 低眉浅望
她打着赤足,褴褛的衣衫
更甘甜的饮品不曾有
更白嫩的玉指未曾见

maud muller 3


法官谢罢 侃侃而谈
花草树影 鸟语蜂鸣
聊及草垛 观望天色
西边的云彩可能带来坏天气
茂迪忘却野蔷薇刺破的衣衫
优雅的褐色脚踝也裸露在外
她惊喜地聆听着
长睫毛下忽闪榛色眼瞳

最后,再拖延些时间
找个小理由辞别上路
茂迪·牧乐弥望暗想,唉,我嘛,
没准儿我就要成为他的新娘!
他给我穿戴细软绸缎
举杯当歌对我祝福夸赞

我父亲该穿上毛呢大衣
我兄弟该开启彩色帆船
给母亲穿戴雍容华贵
小宝宝每天一件新玩具
我将给饥寒者以温饱
每个访客临走都祝福我

法官登山 蓦然回首
茂迪牧乐 婷婷玉立
如此佳人 甜美容颜
寻觅一生 不曾幸会
谈吐从容 优雅风姿
金声玉韵 慧心兰质

假如我拥有了她,我今天
就像她,做个收稻草的人
不再徘徊权衡于对错之间
不再听律师争辩滔滔不绝
唯闻牛儿低语 鸟儿呢喃
健康,安宁,心爱的话语

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他忆起姊妹冷傲状
家母唯爱权与金
他关闭了心灵,继续前行
留着茂迪独守田野间
那个下午他笑逐颜开
法庭上哼起古老情歌
水井边年轻姑娘陷入沉思
直到雨点滴在未锄的三叶草

他娶了嫁妆最丰厚的老婆
她追时髦,他为权
时常,大理石壁炉炭火闪
他眼里浮现一幅画
甜美茂迪的榛色眼睛
吃惊而无辜地张望着


时常,手捧葡萄美酒夜光杯
他心儿却向往路边小井泉
闭目在极尽装潢的客厅
梦想着牧场上草叶花香
高傲的人暗暗叹息,隐隐作痛
啊,假使我还有自由!
就像那天自由地奔驰
赤足少女锄着她的草

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她嫁给无学识穷困汉
一大群孩童玩耍绕门廊
生活的艰辛 消磨的时光
在心间头脑刻下沧桑
时常,夏日艳阳高照
原野上扬着新割的草
她听到泉水叮咚响
穿越小路,透过墙壁
又回到苹果树荫下
她看到骑士勒马缰
低眉 含羞 浅望
感到他欣赏的目光读着她的脸庞

有时,她厨房狭窄的墙
延展扩成了豪华的厅堂
乏味纺车轮转成了小竖琴
牛脂蜡烛台亦如星光闪亮
丈夫坐在壁炉吊钩边
烟酒昏昏牢骚满腹
她脑海里一个人影与她并肩
喜乐就是责任,爱就是律法
她又承担起自己生活的重负
只是说,本来可以那样!

呜呼少女,呜呼法官
富人的抱怨,主妇的劳烦!
上帝垂怜他们俩,也垂怜我们所有人
枉然追忆年轻时的梦想
所有口中笔头的话语
最伤心的莫过于:本来可以那样!
唉,算啦,大家都存一份甜美希翼
深埋心底,旁人无察觉
盼到永生之时,天使也许会
将墓石推开!

Maud Muller in a summer's day
Racked the meadow sweet with hay
Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth
Of simple beauty and rustic health
Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee
The mock-bird echoed from his tree.

But when she glanced to the far-off town
White from its hill-slope looking down
The sweet song died, and a vague unrest
And a nameless longing filled her breast
A wish, that she hardly dared to own,
For something better than she had known

The judge rode slowely down the lane
Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane:
He drew his bridle in the shade
Of the apple-tree, to greet the maid,
And asked a draught from the spring that flowed
Through the meadow across the road

She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up
And filled for him her small tin cup,
And blushed as she gave it, looking down
On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown
"Thanks!" said the Judge, a sweeter draught
From a fairer hand was never quaffed."

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He spoke of the grass, and flowers, and trees,
Of the singing birds and the humming bees;
Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether
The cloud in the west would bring foul weather,
And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown,
And her graceful ankles bare and brown,
And listened, while a pleased surprise
Looked from her long-lashes hazel eyes.

At last, like one who for delay
Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away.
Maud Muller looked and sighed:" Ah, me!"
That I the Judge's bride might be!
He would dress me up in silks so fine,
And praise and toast me at his wine.

"My father should wear a broadcloth coat;
My brother should sail a painted boat;
I'd dress my mother so grand and gay,
And the baby should have a new toy each day;
And I'd feed the hungry and clothe the poor,
And all should bless me who left our door."

The Judge looked back as he climed the hill.
And saw Maud Muller standing still.
"A form more fair, a face more sweet,
Ne'er has it been my lot to meet;
And her modest answer and graceful air
Show her wise and good as she is fair.

"Would she were mine, and I to-day,
Like her, a harvester of hay;
No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs,
Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues;
But low of cattle and song of birds,
And health, and quiet, and loving words."

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But he thought of his sisters, proud and cold,
And his mother, vain of her rank and gold;
So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on,
And Maud was left in the field alone.
But the lawyer smiled that afternoon,
When he hummed in court an old love-tune;
And the yound girl mused beside the well,
Till the rain on the unraked clover fell.

He wedded a wife of richest dower,
Who lived for fashion, as he for power;
Yet oft, in his marble hearth's bright glow,
He watched a picture come and go;
And sweet Maud's hazel eyes,
looked out in their innocent surprise.


Oft when the wine in his glass was red,
He longed for the wayside well instead;
And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms,
To dream of meadows and clover-blooms.
And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain,
"Ah, that I were free again!
Free as when I rode that day,
Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay."

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She wedded a man unlearned and poor,
And many children played round her door;
But care and sorrow and wasting pain
Left their traces on heart and brain.
And oft when the summer sun shone hot
On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot,
And she heard the little spring brook fall
Over the roadside, through the wall,
In the shade of the appe-tree again
She saw a rider draw his rein,
And, gazing down with timid grace,
She felt his pleased eyes read her face.

Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls
Stretched away into stately halls;
The weary wheel to a spinet turned;
The tallow candle and astral burned;
And for him who sat by the chimney lug,
Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug,
A manly form at her side she saw,
And joy was duty, and love was law.
Then she took up her burden of life again,
Saying only." It might have been!"

Alas for a maiden, alas for Judge,
For rich repiner and household drudge!
God pity them both! and pity us all,
Who vainly the dreams of youth recall;
For of all sad words of tongues or pen
He saddest are these:"It might have been!"
Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies
Deeply buried from human eyes;
And in the hereafter angels may
Roll the stone from its grave away!

小记:自从去年译过John Whittier(1807-1892) 的《赤足小子》,就一直很喜欢他诗的田园风格,行文俏皮,流畅,情景交融。最近美语坛在办活动,过春节搭擂台,凑个热闹。就找来这首《茂迪牧乐》试着翻译一下,淡淡的愁,柔柔的情,也许正是因为她的凄美,才百年传世,令人唏嘘,念念不忘。诗人说不必仔细分析诗意。是呀,一切都会过去,乡村,城市,或简朴或繁华。。。道不尽人间情愁,唯存永远的盼望。

下面这段网上朗诵很轻柔,有兴趣可以对照听一下。版本不同,个别词有变化。

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