第86章 秋颂(1 / 1)

To Autumn

[英]约翰·济慈

John Keats

烟雾迷蒙,果实飘香的季节,

催熟万物的太阳的挚友:

你与它携手共商

如何福佑爬满屋檐的葡萄藤,让它们缀满果球;

如何让苹果压弯农舍前苍碧的老树,

让所有的果子全部熟透,

如何让葫芦饱胀肚子,让榛子外壳鼓圆,

盛满香甜的果仁;如何让更多的花朵绽放,

让更多的花蕾呈现,让迟开的花儿为蜜蜂开放,

直到它们相信,温暖的日子将永远相伴,

因为夏天早已让它们黏潮的蜂巢蜜浆四溢。

谁人不知你经常守候着粮仓?

谁人出门都会时常看见

你随意坐在谷仓的地板上,

令长发随着扬谷的风儿轻轻飞扬,

或酣眠于收割了一半的田垄上,

沉醉于浓郁的罂粟花香,让你的镰刀

停歇在下一丛稻谷和缠绕其间的野花旁:

你时而又像一个拾穗者,

头上稳稳地顶着麦穗,趟过小溪:

或接连数个时辰守候在榨果架旁,

耐心地观看,观看最后一滴滴落的果浆。

春天的歌在何方?啊,它们究竟在何方?

别再为它们劳神,你也有自己的音乐——

斑斓的云朵令悄然隐退的暮色如绽放的花朵,

给残梗凌乱的田野涂抹一片瑰丽的霞光;

在河柳间,夹杂在悲戚的唱诗班中,

小昆虫们在哀哀低鸣,

随着微风的起落,时高时低;

肥壮的羊群在山涧旁放声高叫;

篱边的蟋蟀在鸣唱;园圃中,

红胸的知更鸟用柔和的高音婉转啼鸣;

一群燕子聚集在空中,嘁嘁喳喳。

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel;to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

II

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,

Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:

And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep

Steady thy laden head across a brook;

Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,

Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

III

Where are the songs of Spring?Ay, where are they?

Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

Among the river sallows, horne aloft

Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;

And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;

Hedge-crickets sing;and now with treble soft;

The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;

And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.