喜欢惠特曼的诗，翻了自娱，晒晒。
曾经有个孩子向前走
曾经有个孩子一天一天地向前走，
只要他注意到了一个物体，他就会变成了那个物体，
于是这一天中或者这一天某段特定的时间，这个物体也就成了他的一部分。
甚至在许多年中或者当延伸着的岁月循环着回来时都会这样。
早开的紫丁香成了这个孩子的一部分，
青草与白色和红色的牵牛花，白色和红色的三叶草，菲比鸟的歌声，
三个月的小羊羔，母猪浅粉色的幼崽，母马的小驹，母牛的小犊，
仓院里或者池塘边的沼泽旁吵吵闹闹的一窝幼雏，
用多么奇异的方式使自己悬停在水下的鱼儿们，以及那美丽而奇异的能流动的水，
还有那长着优雅的平坦顶端的水生植物，所有这些都成了他的一部分。
四月和五月田野里长出的幼苗成了他的一部分，
越冬谷物的幼苗和浅黄色的玉米的幼苗，庭院植物里可食用的根茎，
缀满繁花的苹果树以及随后结出的果实，树林里的浆果，还有路边最普通的野草，
刚刚从小酒馆外面的厕所里爬起来晃晃悠悠往家里走的年老的醉汉，
从身边经过到学校去的学校里的女教师，
从身边经过友好和善的男孩子，喜欢和人争吵的男孩子，
穿着整洁两颊透着活力的女孩子，光着脚的黑人男孩和女孩，
他所去到的每一个城市和乡间出现的各种变化。
他自己的父母，给他父系血缘的他和把他孕育在自己的子宫并生下来的她，
他们给了这个孩子啊，除了自己，还有更多，
在以后的每一天里，他们都在向他给予，他们成了他的一部分。
守在家里的母亲轻轻地在晚餐桌上放好餐盘，
轻声细语的母亲，戴着干净的帽子，穿着干净的长外套，走过时从身上和衣服散发出清洁舒服的味道，
父亲，强壮、不肯求人、充满男子气概、刻薄、易怒、不公平，
猛烈的打击、大声急促的话语、紧张的讨价还价、狡猾的引诱，
家庭里的生活方式、语言、公司、家具、怀着渴望并扩张着的心，
不会遭到拒绝的感情、分辨真假的感觉、最终总会被证明不现实的想法，
白天涌出的疑问，夜晚涌出的疑问，那些奇怪的是不是和怎么样，
是不是外表如此本质也是如此，或者这些只是脑海里的一个闪念或者犹如管中窥豹？
迅速聚集在街道上的男人和女人，如果对脑海里的一个闪念或者窥见的一小块斑点并不能代表他们，他们又会是什么样的人呢？
街道本身、房屋的正面、橱窗里的物品，
承担运输的车辆船只、成队的牛马拉着的大车、用厚重的木板搭起的码头、渡船们繁忙的往来，
日落时从远方看到的高地上的村庄，隔开村庄的河流，
影子、光晕和迷雾，两英里开外落在白色或棕色的屋顶和山墙上的光线，
仿佛在睡眠中随着潮水沉落下去的近旁的纵桅船，被松松的缆绳系住船尾的小船，
急匆匆翻卷的波浪，迅速破裂的波峰，拍打着，
多彩的层云，一道染成紫褐色的长长光带孤寂地把自己投向远方，四周一片纯净，它躺在这片纯净之中，一动不动。
地平线上，海鸦在飞翔，咸水沼泽和岸边的淤泥散发着香味，
这些都变成了这个孩子的一部分，他曾经每一天都向前走，现在也在走，还要永远一天一天向前走。
THERE WAS A CHILD WENT FORTH
There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he look’d upon, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and red clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird,
And the Third-month lambs and the sow’s pink-faint litter, and the mare’s foal and the cow’s calf,
And the noisy brood of the barnyard or by the mire of the pond-side,
And the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there, and the beautiful curious liquid,
And the water-plants with their graceful flat heads, all became part of him.
The field-sprouts of Fourth-month and Fifth-month became part of him,
Winter-grain sprouts and those of the light-yellow corn, and the esculent roots of the garden,
And the apple-trees cover’d with blossoms and the fruit afterward, and wood-berries, and the commonest weeds by the road,
And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the tavern whence he had lately risen,
And the schoolmistress that pass’d on her way to the school,
And the friendly boys that pass’d, and the quarrelsome boys,
And the tidy and fresh-cheek’d girls, and the barefoot negro boy and girl,
And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.
His own parents, he that had father’d him and she that had conceiv’d him in her womb and birth’d him,
They gave this child more of themselves than that,
They gave him afterward every day, they became part of him.
The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the supper-table,
The mother with mild words, clean her cap and gown, a wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by,
The father, strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, anger’d, unjust,
The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty lure,
The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture, the yearning and swelling heart,
Affection that will not be gainsay’d, the sense of what is real, the thought if after all it should prove unreal,
The doubts of day-time and the doubts of night-time, the curious whether and how,
Whether that which appears so is so, or is it all flashes and specks?
Men and women crowding fast in the streets, if they are not flashes and specks what are they?
The streets themselves and the facades of houses, and goods in the windows,
Vehicles, teams, the heavy-plank’d wharves, the huge crossing at the ferries,
The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset, the river between,
Shadows, aureola and mist, the light falling on roofs and gables of white or brown two miles off,
The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide, the little boat slack-tow’d astern,
The hurrying tumbling waves, quick-broken crests, slapping,
The strata of color’d clouds, the long bar of maroon-tint away solitary by itself, the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon’s edge, the flying sea-crow, the fragrance of salt marsh and shore mud,
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who now goes, and will always go forth every day.
曾经有个孩子一天一天地向前走，
只要他注意到了一个物体，他就会变成了那个物体，
于是这一天中或者这一天某段特定的时间，这个物体也就成了他的一部分。
甚至在许多年中或者当延伸着的岁月循环着回来时都会这样。
早开的紫丁香成了这个孩子的一部分，
青草与白色和红色的牵牛花，白色和红色的三叶草，菲比鸟的歌声，
三个月的小羊羔，母猪浅粉色的幼崽，母马的小驹，母牛的小犊，
仓院里或者池塘边的沼泽旁吵吵闹闹的一窝幼雏，
用多么奇异的方式使自己悬停在水下的鱼儿们，以及那美丽而奇异的能流动的水，
还有那长着优雅的平坦顶端的水生植物，所有这些都成了他的一部分。
四月和五月田野里长出的幼苗成了他的一部分，
越冬谷物的幼苗和浅黄色的玉米的幼苗，庭院植物里可食用的根茎，
缀满繁花的苹果树以及随后结出的果实，树林里的浆果，还有路边最普通的野草，
刚刚从小酒馆外面的厕所里爬起来晃晃悠悠往家里走的年老的醉汉，
从身边经过到学校去的学校里的女教师，
从身边经过友好和善的男孩子，喜欢和人争吵的男孩子，
穿着整洁两颊透着活力的女孩子，光着脚的黑人男孩和女孩，
他所去到的每一个城市和乡间出现的各种变化。
他自己的父母，给他父系血缘的他和把他孕育在自己的子宫并生下来的她，
他们给了这个孩子啊，除了自己，还有更多，
在以后的每一天里，他们都在向他给予，他们成了他的一部分。
守在家里的母亲轻轻地在晚餐桌上放好餐盘，
轻声细语的母亲，戴着干净的帽子，穿着干净的长外套，走过时从身上和衣服散发出清洁舒服的味道，
父亲，强壮、不肯求人、充满男子气概、刻薄、易怒、不公平，
猛烈的打击、大声急促的话语、紧张的讨价还价、狡猾的引诱，
家庭里的生活方式、语言、公司、家具、怀着渴望并扩张着的心，
不会遭到拒绝的感情、分辨真假的感觉、最终总会被证明不现实的想法，
白天涌出的疑问，夜晚涌出的疑问，那些奇怪的是不是和怎么样，
是不是外表如此本质也是如此，或者这些只是脑海里的一个闪念或者犹如管中窥豹？
迅速聚集在街道上的男人和女人，如果对脑海里的一个闪念或者窥见的一小块斑点并不能代表他们，他们又会是什么样的人呢？
街道本身、房屋的正面、橱窗里的物品，
承担运输的车辆船只、成队的牛马拉着的大车、用厚重的木板搭起的码头、渡船们繁忙的往来，
日落时从远方看到的高地上的村庄，隔开村庄的河流，
影子、光晕和迷雾，两英里开外落在白色或棕色的屋顶和山墙上的光线，
仿佛在睡眠中随着潮水沉落下去的近旁的纵桅船，被松松的缆绳系住船尾的小船，
急匆匆翻卷的波浪，迅速破裂的波峰，拍打着，
多彩的层云，一道染成紫褐色的长长光带孤寂地把自己投向远方，四周一片纯净，它躺在这片纯净之中，一动不动。
地平线上，海鸦在飞翔，咸水沼泽和岸边的淤泥散发着香味，
这些都变成了这个孩子的一部分，他曾经每一天都向前走，现在也在走，还要永远一天一天向前走。
THERE WAS A CHILD WENT FORTH
There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he look’d upon, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and red clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird,
And the Third-month lambs and the sow’s pink-faint litter, and the mare’s foal and the cow’s calf,
And the noisy brood of the barnyard or by the mire of the pond-side,
And the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there, and the beautiful curious liquid,
And the water-plants with their graceful flat heads, all became part of him.
The field-sprouts of Fourth-month and Fifth-month became part of him,
Winter-grain sprouts and those of the light-yellow corn, and the esculent roots of the garden,
And the apple-trees cover’d with blossoms and the fruit afterward, and wood-berries, and the commonest weeds by the road,
And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the tavern whence he had lately risen,
And the schoolmistress that pass’d on her way to the school,
And the friendly boys that pass’d, and the quarrelsome boys,
And the tidy and fresh-cheek’d girls, and the barefoot negro boy and girl,
And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.
His own parents, he that had father’d him and she that had conceiv’d him in her womb and birth’d him,
They gave this child more of themselves than that,
They gave him afterward every day, they became part of him.
The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the supper-table,
The mother with mild words, clean her cap and gown, a wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by,
The father, strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, anger’d, unjust,
The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty lure,
The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture, the yearning and swelling heart,
Affection that will not be gainsay’d, the sense of what is real, the thought if after all it should prove unreal,
The doubts of day-time and the doubts of night-time, the curious whether and how,
Whether that which appears so is so, or is it all flashes and specks?
Men and women crowding fast in the streets, if they are not flashes and specks what are they?
The streets themselves and the facades of houses, and goods in the windows,
Vehicles, teams, the heavy-plank’d wharves, the huge crossing at the ferries,
The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset, the river between,
Shadows, aureola and mist, the light falling on roofs and gables of white or brown two miles off,
The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide, the little boat slack-tow’d astern,
The hurrying tumbling waves, quick-broken crests, slapping,
The strata of color’d clouds, the long bar of maroon-tint away solitary by itself, the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon’s edge, the flying sea-crow, the fragrance of salt marsh and shore mud,
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who now goes, and will always go forth every day.
老爱尔兰
在远离此方的一个美丽得使人惊叹的岛上，
一个来自远古的悲伤母亲蜷缩在一座坟头，
她曾经是一个女王，如今却变得瘦弱，衣衫破烂地坐在地上，
她那老迈的白发散乱地垂下，裹着她的肩膀，
掉落在她脚下的是一架无人演奏的皇家竖琴，
竖琴沉默很久了，她也沉默了很久，悲悼着裹着寿衣的希望和子嗣，
她的心里装满了整个世界上最多的悲伤啊，因为那里装满了最多的爱。
但是且听我说上一句呀，来自远古的母亲，
你不必再蜷缩在那边冰冷的地上，把前额埋进你的膝盖，
哦，你不必坐在那里让你那么零乱的白发把自己遮盖，
因为你要知道你所哀悼的那个人儿并没有埋进那座墓中，
这只是一个错觉，你心爱的儿子并没有真地死去，
人主没有死去，他已经在另一个国家复活，年轻而又强壮，
甚至当你在那边的坟墓边上，在你掉落的竖琴旁边哭泣的时候，
你所为之而哭泣的已经变成了能被理解的语言，从那座坟墓里传递出去，
风儿为它助力，大海载它航行，
现在带着玫瑰和新的血液，
今天移居到了一个新的国家。
OLD IRELAND
Far hence amid an isle of wondrous beauty,
Crouching over a grave an ancient sorrowful mother,
Once a queen, now lean and tatter’d seated on the ground,
Her old white hair drooping dishevel’d round her shoulders,
At her feet fallen an unused royal harp,
Long silent, she too long silent, mourning her shrouded hope and heir,
Of all the earth her heart most full of sorrow because most full of love.
Yet a word ancient mother,
You need crouch there no longer on the cold ground with forehead between your knees,
O you need not sit there veil’d in your old white hair so dishevel’d,
For know you the one you mourn is not in that grave,
It was an illusion, the son you love was not really dead,
The Lord is not dead, he is risen again young and strong in another country,
Even while you wept there by your fallen harp by the grave,
What you wept for was translated, pass’d from the grave,
The winds favor’d and the sea sail’d it,
And now with rosy and new blood,
Moves to-day in a new country.
在远离此方的一个美丽得使人惊叹的岛上，
一个来自远古的悲伤母亲蜷缩在一座坟头，
她曾经是一个女王，如今却变得瘦弱，衣衫破烂地坐在地上，
她那老迈的白发散乱地垂下，裹着她的肩膀，
掉落在她脚下的是一架无人演奏的皇家竖琴，
竖琴沉默很久了，她也沉默了很久，悲悼着裹着寿衣的希望和子嗣，
她的心里装满了整个世界上最多的悲伤啊，因为那里装满了最多的爱。
但是且听我说上一句呀，来自远古的母亲，
你不必再蜷缩在那边冰冷的地上，把前额埋进你的膝盖，
哦，你不必坐在那里让你那么零乱的白发把自己遮盖，
因为你要知道你所哀悼的那个人儿并没有埋进那座墓中，
这只是一个错觉，你心爱的儿子并没有真地死去，
人主没有死去，他已经在另一个国家复活，年轻而又强壮，
甚至当你在那边的坟墓边上，在你掉落的竖琴旁边哭泣的时候，
你所为之而哭泣的已经变成了能被理解的语言，从那座坟墓里传递出去，
风儿为它助力，大海载它航行，
现在带着玫瑰和新的血液，
今天移居到了一个新的国家。
OLD IRELAND
Far hence amid an isle of wondrous beauty,
Crouching over a grave an ancient sorrowful mother,
Once a queen, now lean and tatter’d seated on the ground,
Her old white hair drooping dishevel’d round her shoulders,
At her feet fallen an unused royal harp,
Long silent, she too long silent, mourning her shrouded hope and heir,
Of all the earth her heart most full of sorrow because most full of love.
Yet a word ancient mother,
You need crouch there no longer on the cold ground with forehead between your knees,
O you need not sit there veil’d in your old white hair so dishevel’d,
For know you the one you mourn is not in that grave,
It was an illusion, the son you love was not really dead,
The Lord is not dead, he is risen again young and strong in another country,
Even while you wept there by your fallen harp by the grave,
What you wept for was translated, pass’d from the grave,
The winds favor’d and the sea sail’d it,
And now with rosy and new blood,
Moves to-day in a new country.
城市里的停尸房
走到了城市里的停尸房旁边，走到门的旁边，
因为那叮叮当当的声音让悠闲乱逛的我沿着这条路走来，
我好奇地停下，因为，喏，一个被抛弃的躯体，一个可怜的死了的妓女被带来了，
他们把尸体放在这里，无人认领，它就躺着潮湿的砖铺地面上，
这个圣洁的女人，她的身体，我看见了这个身体，我注视它呀，独自地，
这幢也曾满情感和美丽的房子呀，我全神贯注于它不遑他顾。
多么冰冷的寂静，龙头里不停流出的水，病菌的味道，这些都没有引起我的注意，
除了这幢房子本身——这幢神奇的房子——这幢脆弱而美丽的房子——这堆废墟！
这是一幢比所有曾经建造起来的成排成列的人类居所都要不朽的房子！
比白色拱顶上耸立着威严的人物塑像的议会大厦都要不朽，比所有那些古老的有着高高尖顶的教堂都要不朽！
仅仅是这一幢小小的房子呀，胜过了所有的它们——可怜而绝望的房子！
美丽而令人恐惧的颓圮的残骸——一个灵魂的寓所——自身就是一个灵魂，
无人认领、被人回避的房子——从我颤抖的双唇里接受一口气息吧，
接受一滴当我走在路上因为想到你而滴落在一旁的眼泪，
死去的爱所居信的房子啊——疯狂和罪恶居住的房子，坍倒了，粉碎了，
生命居住的房子，不久之前还在说着笑着——但是，啊，可怜的房子，甚至在那时就已经死了，
日月流逝，年岁流逝，一座响着回音的、装饰好的房子——可是却死了，死了，死了。
THE CITY DEAD-HOUSE
By the city dead-house by the gate,
As idly sauntering wending my way from the clangor,
I curious pause, for lo, an outcast form, a poor dead prostitute brought,
Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d, it lies on the damp brick pavement,
The divine woman, her body, I see the body, I look on it alone,
That house once full of passion and beauty, all else I notice not,
Nor stillness so cold, nor running water from faucet, nor odors morbific impress me,
But the house alone—that wondrous house—that delicate fair house—that ruin!
That immortal house more than all the rows of dwellings ever built!
Or white-domed capitol with majestic figure surmounted, or all the old high-spired cathedrals,
That little house alone more than them all—poor, desperate house!
Fair, fearful wreck—tenement of a soul—itself a soul,
Unclaim’d, avoided house—take one breath from my tremulous lips,
Take one tear dropt aside as I go for thought of you,
Dead house of love—house of madness and sin, crumbled, crush’d,
House of life, erewhile talking and laughing—but ah, poor house, dead even then,
Months, years, an echoing, garnish’d house—but dead, dead, dead.
走到了城市里的停尸房旁边，走到门的旁边，
因为那叮叮当当的声音让悠闲乱逛的我沿着这条路走来，
我好奇地停下，因为，喏，一个被抛弃的躯体，一个可怜的死了的妓女被带来了，
他们把尸体放在这里，无人认领，它就躺着潮湿的砖铺地面上，
这个圣洁的女人，她的身体，我看见了这个身体，我注视它呀，独自地，
这幢也曾满情感和美丽的房子呀，我全神贯注于它不遑他顾。
多么冰冷的寂静，龙头里不停流出的水，病菌的味道，这些都没有引起我的注意，
除了这幢房子本身——这幢神奇的房子——这幢脆弱而美丽的房子——这堆废墟！
这是一幢比所有曾经建造起来的成排成列的人类居所都要不朽的房子！
比白色拱顶上耸立着威严的人物塑像的议会大厦都要不朽，比所有那些古老的有着高高尖顶的教堂都要不朽！
仅仅是这一幢小小的房子呀，胜过了所有的它们——可怜而绝望的房子！
美丽而令人恐惧的颓圮的残骸——一个灵魂的寓所——自身就是一个灵魂，
无人认领、被人回避的房子——从我颤抖的双唇里接受一口气息吧，
接受一滴当我走在路上因为想到你而滴落在一旁的眼泪，
死去的爱所居信的房子啊——疯狂和罪恶居住的房子，坍倒了，粉碎了，
生命居住的房子，不久之前还在说着笑着——但是，啊，可怜的房子，甚至在那时就已经死了，
日月流逝，年岁流逝，一座响着回音的、装饰好的房子——可是却死了，死了，死了。
THE CITY DEAD-HOUSE
By the city dead-house by the gate,
As idly sauntering wending my way from the clangor,
I curious pause, for lo, an outcast form, a poor dead prostitute brought,
Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d, it lies on the damp brick pavement,
The divine woman, her body, I see the body, I look on it alone,
That house once full of passion and beauty, all else I notice not,
Nor stillness so cold, nor running water from faucet, nor odors morbific impress me,
But the house alone—that wondrous house—that delicate fair house—that ruin!
That immortal house more than all the rows of dwellings ever built!
Or white-domed capitol with majestic figure surmounted, or all the old high-spired cathedrals,
That little house alone more than them all—poor, desperate house!
Fair, fearful wreck—tenement of a soul—itself a soul,
Unclaim’d, avoided house—take one breath from my tremulous lips,
Take one tear dropt aside as I go for thought of you,
Dead house of love—house of madness and sin, crumbled, crush’d,
House of life, erewhile talking and laughing—but ah, poor house, dead even then,
Months, years, an echoing, garnish’d house—but dead, dead, dead.
这堆堆肥
1
在我以为最安全的地方，有个东西惊吓了我，
让我从我曾热爱的寂静的树林中逃离，
让现在的我再也不想去牧场散步，
让我再也不想剥去衣服光着身子去与我的爱侣大海相会，
让我再也不想让肌体与大地相亲以焕发新我，就像我与其它的肌体相亲那样。
哦，大地怎么能不让自己感染上病症？
你们，春天里生长出来的植物啊，你们又为什么能保有活力？
你们，花草、根茎、果园、谷物里的生命汁液，你们怎么能保障健康？
难道他们不是不停地向你们的身体里渗入沾染瘟疫的尸体吗？
难道所有的大陆不都是在一遍一遍地重得利用那些腐臭的死物吗？
你把它们的尸体都安放到哪里去了？
在那么多的世代中曾出现过的醉鬼和饕餮们哪去了？
那些馊臭的液体和死肉全都被你抽吸到哪里去了？
现在我在你身上找不到它们的一丝痕迹，要末也许是因为我受到了蒙骗，
我要用犁来开一道犁沟，我要把锹插到草皮的底下，把它底朝天翻开，
我相信我总能让一些馊臭的死肉暴露于外。
THIS COMPOST
1
Something startles me where I thought I was safest,
I withdraw from the still woods I loved,
I will not go now on the pastures to walk,
I will not strip the clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea,
I will not touch my flesh to the earth as to other flesh to renew me.
O how can it be that the ground itself does not sicken?
How can you be alive you growths of spring?
How can you furnish health you blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain?
Are they not continually putting distemper’d corpses within you?
Is not every continent work’d over and over with sour dead?
Where have you disposed of their carcasses?
Those drunkards and gluttons of so many generations?
Where have you drawn off all the foul liquid and meat?
I do not see any of it upon you to-day, or perhaps I am deceiv’d,
I will run a furrow with my plough, I will press my spade through the sod and turn it up underneath,
I am sure I shall expose some of the foul meat.
1
在我以为最安全的地方，有个东西惊吓了我，
让我从我曾热爱的寂静的树林中逃离，
让现在的我再也不想去牧场散步，
让我再也不想剥去衣服光着身子去与我的爱侣大海相会，
让我再也不想让肌体与大地相亲以焕发新我，就像我与其它的肌体相亲那样。
哦，大地怎么能不让自己感染上病症？
你们，春天里生长出来的植物啊，你们又为什么能保有活力？
你们，花草、根茎、果园、谷物里的生命汁液，你们怎么能保障健康？
难道他们不是不停地向你们的身体里渗入沾染瘟疫的尸体吗？
难道所有的大陆不都是在一遍一遍地重得利用那些腐臭的死物吗？
你把它们的尸体都安放到哪里去了？
在那么多的世代中曾出现过的醉鬼和饕餮们哪去了？
那些馊臭的液体和死肉全都被你抽吸到哪里去了？
现在我在你身上找不到它们的一丝痕迹，要末也许是因为我受到了蒙骗，
我要用犁来开一道犁沟，我要把锹插到草皮的底下，把它底朝天翻开，
我相信我总能让一些馊臭的死肉暴露于外。
THIS COMPOST
1
Something startles me where I thought I was safest,
I withdraw from the still woods I loved,
I will not go now on the pastures to walk,
I will not strip the clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea,
I will not touch my flesh to the earth as to other flesh to renew me.
O how can it be that the ground itself does not sicken?
How can you be alive you growths of spring?
How can you furnish health you blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain?
Are they not continually putting distemper’d corpses within you?
Is not every continent work’d over and over with sour dead?
Where have you disposed of their carcasses?
Those drunkards and gluttons of so many generations?
Where have you drawn off all the foul liquid and meat?
I do not see any of it upon you to-day, or perhaps I am deceiv’d,
I will run a furrow with my plough, I will press my spade through the sod and turn it up underneath,
I am sure I shall expose some of the foul meat.
这堆堆肥
2
看看这堆堆肥！好好地看它一看！
没准这里的每一小块，曾经都是一个病人的身体的组成部分——然而看着！
春天的青草覆盖了荒原，
豆苗无声地迸发，穿破了花园里的肥沃的腐土，
洋葱纤细的幼苗钻出地面，
苹果的蓓蕾簇拥在一起，挂在苹果树的枝头，
小麦从它的坟墓里探出了苍白的面孔，重新复活，
柳树和桑树上苏醒了淡淡的颜色，
当雌鸟蹲坐在它们巢窠里的时候，雄鸟高歌，从早到晚，
家禽的幼雏从被孵化的蛋中破壳而出，
新生的家畜也出现了，母牛生下了小牛犊，母马生下了小马驹，
土豆深绿色的叶片从它的小山坡上按时长出来了，
黄色的玉米茎秆在它的丘陵上长起来了，门前庭院里的丁香开放了，
夏天的作物清白无瑕并且倨傲地立于所有那些酸臭的死物垒成的地层上。
化学的作用多么神奇！
化学让风真的不把病菌传染，
化学让充满爱意地追逐着我们的大海，在它那清亮透明的绿色中不布置什么骗局，
化学让它能用舌头安全地舔遍我们赤裸身体的上上下下，
化学让那些把自己通过化学的积淀而产生的燥热高烧，对我不产生任何威胁，
化学让所有的一切啊，都永久永久地洁净了，
化学这取自井中的凉爽饮水啊，滋味如此地美妙，
化学让这黑莓呀，也如此的好吃并且多汁，
化学让来自苹果园和橘子园里的水果，这甜瓜、葡萄、桃、梅李，没有一种会对我造成毒害，
化学让斜躺在草地之上的我呀，不会因此患上任何疾病，
虽然也许每一片草叶都生长自曾经罹患过某种病症的东西。
如今我震惊于这个地球，它是这样地平静充满耐心，
从这样的腐物之中，它生长了如此甜美的物种，
围绕着自己的轴心，带着那无穷无尽的带病尸体形成的队列，转动着，不受伤害，也不受污染，
从所注入的如此的腐臭，它提炼出了如此精致的清风，
外表浑浑噩噩的它呀，更新换代出了它那些年年生长的、豪华奢侈的作物，
它把如此圣洁的物资赠与人们，又最终从他们那里接受这样的遗弃物。
THIS COMPOST
2
Behold this compost! behold it well!
Perhaps every mite has once form’d part of a sick person—yet behold!
The grass of spring covers the prairies,
The bean bursts noiselessly through the mould in the garden,
The delicate spear of the onion pierces upward,
The apple-buds cluster together on the apple-branches,
The resurrection of the wheat appears with pale visage out of its graves,
The tinge awakes over the willow-tree and the mulberry-tree,
The he-birds carol mornings and evenings while the she-birds sit on their nests,
The young of poultry break through the hatch’d eggs,
The new-born of animals appear, the calf is dropt from the cow, the colt from the mare,
Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato’s dark green leaves,
Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk, the lilacs bloom in the dooryards,
The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of sour dead.
What chemistry!
That the winds are really not infectious,
That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea which is so amorous after me,
That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues,
That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited themselves in it,
That all is clean forever and forever,
That the cool drink from the well tastes so good,
That blackberries are so flavorous and juicy,
That the fruits of the apple-orchard and the orange-orchard, that melons, grapes, peaches, plums, will none of them poison me,
That when I recline on the grass I do not catch any disease,
Though probably every spear of grass rises out of what was once catching disease.
Now I am terrified at the Earth, it is that calm and patient,
It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions,
It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of diseas’d corpses,
It distills such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor,
It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops,
It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings from them at last.
2
看看这堆堆肥！好好地看它一看！
没准这里的每一小块，曾经都是一个病人的身体的组成部分——然而看着！
春天的青草覆盖了荒原，
豆苗无声地迸发，穿破了花园里的肥沃的腐土，
洋葱纤细的幼苗钻出地面，
苹果的蓓蕾簇拥在一起，挂在苹果树的枝头，
小麦从它的坟墓里探出了苍白的面孔，重新复活，
柳树和桑树上苏醒了淡淡的颜色，
当雌鸟蹲坐在它们巢窠里的时候，雄鸟高歌，从早到晚，
家禽的幼雏从被孵化的蛋中破壳而出，
新生的家畜也出现了，母牛生下了小牛犊，母马生下了小马驹，
土豆深绿色的叶片从它的小山坡上按时长出来了，
黄色的玉米茎秆在它的丘陵上长起来了，门前庭院里的丁香开放了，
夏天的作物清白无瑕并且倨傲地立于所有那些酸臭的死物垒成的地层上。
化学的作用多么神奇！
化学让风真的不把病菌传染，
化学让充满爱意地追逐着我们的大海，在它那清亮透明的绿色中不布置什么骗局，
化学让它能用舌头安全地舔遍我们赤裸身体的上上下下，
化学让那些把自己通过化学的积淀而产生的燥热高烧，对我不产生任何威胁，
化学让所有的一切啊，都永久永久地洁净了，
化学这取自井中的凉爽饮水啊，滋味如此地美妙，
化学让这黑莓呀，也如此的好吃并且多汁，
化学让来自苹果园和橘子园里的水果，这甜瓜、葡萄、桃、梅李，没有一种会对我造成毒害，
化学让斜躺在草地之上的我呀，不会因此患上任何疾病，
虽然也许每一片草叶都生长自曾经罹患过某种病症的东西。
如今我震惊于这个地球，它是这样地平静充满耐心，
从这样的腐物之中，它生长了如此甜美的物种，
围绕着自己的轴心，带着那无穷无尽的带病尸体形成的队列，转动着，不受伤害，也不受污染，
从所注入的如此的腐臭，它提炼出了如此精致的清风，
外表浑浑噩噩的它呀，更新换代出了它那些年年生长的、豪华奢侈的作物，
它把如此圣洁的物资赠与人们，又最终从他们那里接受这样的遗弃物。
THIS COMPOST
2
Behold this compost! behold it well!
Perhaps every mite has once form’d part of a sick person—yet behold!
The grass of spring covers the prairies,
The bean bursts noiselessly through the mould in the garden,
The delicate spear of the onion pierces upward,
The apple-buds cluster together on the apple-branches,
The resurrection of the wheat appears with pale visage out of its graves,
The tinge awakes over the willow-tree and the mulberry-tree,
The he-birds carol mornings and evenings while the she-birds sit on their nests,
The young of poultry break through the hatch’d eggs,
The new-born of animals appear, the calf is dropt from the cow, the colt from the mare,
Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato’s dark green leaves,
Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk, the lilacs bloom in the dooryards,
The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of sour dead.
What chemistry!
That the winds are really not infectious,
That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea which is so amorous after me,
That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues,
That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited themselves in it,
That all is clean forever and forever,
That the cool drink from the well tastes so good,
That blackberries are so flavorous and juicy,
That the fruits of the apple-orchard and the orange-orchard, that melons, grapes, peaches, plums, will none of them poison me,
That when I recline on the grass I do not catch any disease,
Though probably every spear of grass rises out of what was once catching disease.
Now I am terrified at the Earth, it is that calm and patient,
It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions,
It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of diseas’d corpses,
It distills such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor,
It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops,
It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings from them at last.
致一个遭到挫败的欧洲革命者
保持勇气，我的兄弟或者我的姐妹！
继续坚持——在任何情况下自由都是要争取才会有的；
一两次失败并不能扑灭什么，多少次的失败都不能，
人们的冷漠和忘恩负义不能，任何形式的背叛不能，
用权力、士兵、大炮、刑事制度来展示獠牙也不能。
在所有的大陆上，我们的信仰永远都在蛰伏中等待，
它不邀请任何人，不承诺任何东西，它在光明里平静地坐着，积极而镇定，从不灰心失望，
耐心地等待着，等待属于它的时间。
（这些并不仅仅是忠诚的歌声，
它们也更是奋起反抗的歌声，
因为我是一个发誓为全世界一切无畏反抗者而生的诗人，
而与我同行的他呀，要抛弃宁静与常规的生活，
赌上他的生命，准备随时失去。）
战斗激烈进行，伴着许多大声的警报和时常的前进与后退，
背弃信仰的逆徒胜利了，或者以为他胜利了，
监狱、断头台、绞架、手铐、铁项链和铅弹来完成它们的工作了，
留下姓名的和没有留下姓名的英雄们去往另外的天国，
伟大的演说者和写作者遭到流放，在遥远的国度他们卧于病中，
理想沉眠了，最有力量的喉咙窒息于他们自己的鲜血，
年轻的人们在相遇时，将自己的眼睫垂向地面；
但是即使这样，自由也没有从这里走开，那个背弃信仰的逆徒也没有把一切掌控在手中。
如果自由离开某一个地方，它不会第一个离开，它也不会第二个或者第三个离开，
它要等待其它的一切离开，它最后一个离开。
当关于英雄和烈士的记忆再也不复存在，
当地球的某一个部分不再拥有任何一个男人和女人的生命或灵魂，
自由或者关于自由的理想才会从地球的这个部分离开，
那个背弃信仰的逆徒才能把一切掌控在手中。
所以拿出勇气，欧洲的反抗者啊，男性以及女性！
哪怕一切都停止，你们不能停止。
我不知道你们的目标，（我不知道自己的目标，也不知道任何东西它们的目标，）
但是我仍然要小心地去把它探索，即使在挫败之中，
即使失败，即使贫穷，即使有误解，即使被囚禁——因为它们也都是伟大的。
以前我们只以为胜利才是伟大的吗？
是的，胜利是伟大的——但是现在我似乎看到，当失败不可避免的时候，失败也是伟大的，
并且死亡和沮丧都是伟大的。
TO A FOIL’D EUROPEAN REVOLUTIONAIRE
Courage yet, my brother or my sister!
Keep on—Liberty is to be subserv’d whatever occurs;
That is nothing that is quell’d by one or two failures, or any number of failures,
Or by the indifference or ingratitude of the people, or by any unfaithfulness,
Or the show of the tushes of power, soldiers, cannon, penal statutes.
What we believe in waits latent forever through all the continents,
Invites no one, promises nothing, sits in calmness and light, is positive and composed, knows no discouragement,
Waiting patiently, waiting its time.
(Not songs of loyalty alone are these,
But songs of insurrection also,
For I am the sworn poet of every dauntless rebel the world over,
And he going with me leaves peace and routine behind him,
And stakes his life to be lost at any moment.)
The battle rages with many a loud alarm and frequent advance and retreat,
The infidel triumphs, or supposes he triumphs,
The prison, scaffold, garrote, handcuffs, iron necklace and leadballs do their work,
The named and unnamed heroes pass to other spheres,
The great speakers and writers are exiled, they lie sick in distant lands,
The cause is asleep, the strongest throats are choked with their own blood,
The young men droop their eyelashes toward the ground when they meet;
But for all this Liberty has not gone out of the place, nor the infidel enter’d into full possession.
When liberty goes out of a place it is not the first to go, nor the second or third to go,
It waits for all the rest to go, it is the last.
When there are no more memories of heroes and martyrs,
And when all life and all the souls of men and women are discharged from any part of the earth,
Then only shall liberty or the idea of liberty be discharged from that part of the earth,
And the infidel come into full possession.
Then courage European revolter, revoltress!
For till all ceases neither must you cease.
I do not know what you are for, (I do not know what I am for myself, nor what any thing is for,)
But I will search carefully for it even in being foil’d,
In defeat, poverty, misconception, imprisonment—for they too are great.
Did we think victory great?
So it is—but now it seems to me, when it cannot be help’d, that defeat is great,
And that death and dismay are great.
保持勇气，我的兄弟或者我的姐妹！
继续坚持——在任何情况下自由都是要争取才会有的；
一两次失败并不能扑灭什么，多少次的失败都不能，
人们的冷漠和忘恩负义不能，任何形式的背叛不能，
用权力、士兵、大炮、刑事制度来展示獠牙也不能。
在所有的大陆上，我们的信仰永远都在蛰伏中等待，
它不邀请任何人，不承诺任何东西，它在光明里平静地坐着，积极而镇定，从不灰心失望，
耐心地等待着，等待属于它的时间。
（这些并不仅仅是忠诚的歌声，
它们也更是奋起反抗的歌声，
因为我是一个发誓为全世界一切无畏反抗者而生的诗人，
而与我同行的他呀，要抛弃宁静与常规的生活，
赌上他的生命，准备随时失去。）
战斗激烈进行，伴着许多大声的警报和时常的前进与后退，
背弃信仰的逆徒胜利了，或者以为他胜利了，
监狱、断头台、绞架、手铐、铁项链和铅弹来完成它们的工作了，
留下姓名的和没有留下姓名的英雄们去往另外的天国，
伟大的演说者和写作者遭到流放，在遥远的国度他们卧于病中，
理想沉眠了，最有力量的喉咙窒息于他们自己的鲜血，
年轻的人们在相遇时，将自己的眼睫垂向地面；
但是即使这样，自由也没有从这里走开，那个背弃信仰的逆徒也没有把一切掌控在手中。
如果自由离开某一个地方，它不会第一个离开，它也不会第二个或者第三个离开，
它要等待其它的一切离开，它最后一个离开。
当关于英雄和烈士的记忆再也不复存在，
当地球的某一个部分不再拥有任何一个男人和女人的生命或灵魂，
自由或者关于自由的理想才会从地球的这个部分离开，
那个背弃信仰的逆徒才能把一切掌控在手中。
所以拿出勇气，欧洲的反抗者啊，男性以及女性！
哪怕一切都停止，你们不能停止。
我不知道你们的目标，（我不知道自己的目标，也不知道任何东西它们的目标，）
但是我仍然要小心地去把它探索，即使在挫败之中，
即使失败，即使贫穷，即使有误解，即使被囚禁——因为它们也都是伟大的。
以前我们只以为胜利才是伟大的吗？
是的，胜利是伟大的——但是现在我似乎看到，当失败不可避免的时候，失败也是伟大的，
并且死亡和沮丧都是伟大的。
TO A FOIL’D EUROPEAN REVOLUTIONAIRE
Courage yet, my brother or my sister!
Keep on—Liberty is to be subserv’d whatever occurs;
That is nothing that is quell’d by one or two failures, or any number of failures,
Or by the indifference or ingratitude of the people, or by any unfaithfulness,
Or the show of the tushes of power, soldiers, cannon, penal statutes.
What we believe in waits latent forever through all the continents,
Invites no one, promises nothing, sits in calmness and light, is positive and composed, knows no discouragement,
Waiting patiently, waiting its time.
(Not songs of loyalty alone are these,
But songs of insurrection also,
For I am the sworn poet of every dauntless rebel the world over,
And he going with me leaves peace and routine behind him,
And stakes his life to be lost at any moment.)
The battle rages with many a loud alarm and frequent advance and retreat,
The infidel triumphs, or supposes he triumphs,
The prison, scaffold, garrote, handcuffs, iron necklace and leadballs do their work,
The named and unnamed heroes pass to other spheres,
The great speakers and writers are exiled, they lie sick in distant lands,
The cause is asleep, the strongest throats are choked with their own blood,
The young men droop their eyelashes toward the ground when they meet;
But for all this Liberty has not gone out of the place, nor the infidel enter’d into full possession.
When liberty goes out of a place it is not the first to go, nor the second or third to go,
It waits for all the rest to go, it is the last.
When there are no more memories of heroes and martyrs,
And when all life and all the souls of men and women are discharged from any part of the earth,
Then only shall liberty or the idea of liberty be discharged from that part of the earth,
And the infidel come into full possession.
Then courage European revolter, revoltress!
For till all ceases neither must you cease.
I do not know what you are for, (I do not know what I am for myself, nor what any thing is for,)
But I will search carefully for it even in being foil’d,
In defeat, poverty, misconception, imprisonment—for they too are great.
Did we think victory great?
So it is—but now it seems to me, when it cannot be help’d, that defeat is great,
And that death and dismay are great.
被湮灭了名字的土地
比这些州邦早出现一万年的那些民族，以及比这些州邦早出现许多个一万年的那些民族，
和我们一样成长长大，走完自己的旅程然后逝去的那些男男女女，世世代代簇集成串，
那些建造好广阔的城市，那些秩序井然的共和制国家，那些以畜牧为生的部落和游牧民族，
那些历史事件，那些统治者，那些英雄们，它们也许比所有其它历史事件、统治者和英雄们都更为重要或突出，
那些法律、风俗、财富、艺术、传统，
那些婚姻形式，那些服饰，那些体格和颅相特征，
他们之间形成的自由和奴役的关系，他们关于死亡和灵魂的思考，
有些人机智而充满智慧，有些人美丽而充满诗意，有些人残忍而没有开化，
但他们没有留下一丝痕迹，没有留下一条记录——可是他们又把一切都留下了。
哦，我明白这些男人和女人的出现不是没有目的的，正像我们的出现并非毫无目的一样，
我明白他们从属于构成这个世界的框架，就像现在的我们也一模一样地从属于构成这个世界的框架。
他们远远地站着，但他们又在我近旁站着，
有些长着鸭蛋形的面孔，充满学识心里平静，
有些全身赤裸、蒙昧野蛮，有些像昆虫一样聚集成庞大的群体，
有些是住在帐篷里的牧人，实行族长制度，分成各个部落，在马背上生活，
有些在森林里悄悄穿行，有些在农场里和平地生活，他们劳动、收割、装满谷仓，
有些往来于人工铺砌的林荫大道，出现在寺庙、宫殿、工厂、图书馆、表演场所、宫廷、剧院、壮丽的纪念碑塔之中，
那些数百十亿的男人们真地逝去了吗？
那些掌握了地球上最古老的经验的女人们是逝去了吗？
他们的生命、城市、艺术，只是停歇于我们身边吗？
难道他们就没有为他们自己创造出什么能永久存在的东西吗？
我相信所有曾经填满了这些名字被湮灭的土地里的男人和女人，每一个此刻都依然存在于这里或那里，只是我们没法看见。
他们与生活中他或者她有完全一样的成长过程，他们与在生活中的他或者她通过一模一样的经历、感觉、成长、爱恋和罪过塑造出来。
我相信这些民族以及他们之中的任何一个个人都没有就那样结束，就像我的民族，或者我都不应当就这样结束一样；
而从他们的语言、统治形式、婚姻、文学、出产、游戏、战争、行为方式、罪行、囚笼、奴隶、英雄、诗人之中，
我猜测这些东西的成果正令人惊奇等待于那尚未揭晓的世界之中，成为它们从已知的世界所积攒的那些东西的副本，
我猜测我将在那里遇到它们，
我猜测我将在那里找到那些湮灭了名字的土地上的每一条旧时的详细记录。
UNNAMED LAND
Nations ten thousand years before these States, and many times ten thousand years before these States,
Garner’d clusters of ages that men and women like us grew up and travel’d their course and pass’d on,
What vast-built cities, what orderly republics, what pastoral tribes and nomads,
What histories, rulers, heroes, perhaps transcending all others,
What laws, customs, wealth, arts, traditions,
What sort of marriage, what costumes, what physiology and phrenology,
What of liberty and slavery among them, what they thought of death and the soul,
Who were witty and wise, who beautiful and poetic, who brutish and undevelop’d,
Not a mark, not a record remains—and yet all remains.
O I know that those men and women were not for nothing, any more than we are for nothing,
I know that they belong to the scheme of the world every bit as much as we now belong to it.
Afar they stand, yet near to me they stand,
Some with oval countenances learn’d and calm,
Some naked and savage, some like huge collections of insects,
Some in tents, herdsmen, patriarchs, tribes, horsemen,
Some prowling through woods, some living peaceably on farms, laboring, reaping, filling barns,
Some traversing paved avenues, amid temples, palaces, factories, libraries, shows, courts, theatres, wonderful monuments.
Are those billions of men really gone?
Are those women of the old experience of the earth gone?
Do their lives, cities, arts, rest only with us?
Did they achieve nothing for good for themselves?
I believe of all those men and women that fill’d the unnamed lands, every one exists this hour here or elsewhere, invisible to us.
In exact proportion to what he or she grew from in life, and out of what he or she did, felt, became, loved, sinn’d, in life.
I believe that was not the end of those nations or any person of them, any more than this shall be the end of my nation, or of me;
Of their languages, governments, marriage, literature, products, games, wars, manners, crimes, prisons, slaves, heroes, poets,
I suspect their results curiously await in the yet unseen world, counterparts of what accrued to them in the seen world,
I suspect I shall meet them there,
I suspect I shall there find each old particular of those unnamed lands.
比这些州邦早出现一万年的那些民族，以及比这些州邦早出现许多个一万年的那些民族，
和我们一样成长长大，走完自己的旅程然后逝去的那些男男女女，世世代代簇集成串，
那些建造好广阔的城市，那些秩序井然的共和制国家，那些以畜牧为生的部落和游牧民族，
那些历史事件，那些统治者，那些英雄们，它们也许比所有其它历史事件、统治者和英雄们都更为重要或突出，
那些法律、风俗、财富、艺术、传统，
那些婚姻形式，那些服饰，那些体格和颅相特征，
他们之间形成的自由和奴役的关系，他们关于死亡和灵魂的思考，
有些人机智而充满智慧，有些人美丽而充满诗意，有些人残忍而没有开化，
但他们没有留下一丝痕迹，没有留下一条记录——可是他们又把一切都留下了。
哦，我明白这些男人和女人的出现不是没有目的的，正像我们的出现并非毫无目的一样，
我明白他们从属于构成这个世界的框架，就像现在的我们也一模一样地从属于构成这个世界的框架。
他们远远地站着，但他们又在我近旁站着，
有些长着鸭蛋形的面孔，充满学识心里平静，
有些全身赤裸、蒙昧野蛮，有些像昆虫一样聚集成庞大的群体，
有些是住在帐篷里的牧人，实行族长制度，分成各个部落，在马背上生活，
有些在森林里悄悄穿行，有些在农场里和平地生活，他们劳动、收割、装满谷仓，
有些往来于人工铺砌的林荫大道，出现在寺庙、宫殿、工厂、图书馆、表演场所、宫廷、剧院、壮丽的纪念碑塔之中，
那些数百十亿的男人们真地逝去了吗？
那些掌握了地球上最古老的经验的女人们是逝去了吗？
他们的生命、城市、艺术，只是停歇于我们身边吗？
难道他们就没有为他们自己创造出什么能永久存在的东西吗？
我相信所有曾经填满了这些名字被湮灭的土地里的男人和女人，每一个此刻都依然存在于这里或那里，只是我们没法看见。
他们与生活中他或者她有完全一样的成长过程，他们与在生活中的他或者她通过一模一样的经历、感觉、成长、爱恋和罪过塑造出来。
我相信这些民族以及他们之中的任何一个个人都没有就那样结束，就像我的民族，或者我都不应当就这样结束一样；
而从他们的语言、统治形式、婚姻、文学、出产、游戏、战争、行为方式、罪行、囚笼、奴隶、英雄、诗人之中，
我猜测这些东西的成果正令人惊奇等待于那尚未揭晓的世界之中，成为它们从已知的世界所积攒的那些东西的副本，
我猜测我将在那里遇到它们，
我猜测我将在那里找到那些湮灭了名字的土地上的每一条旧时的详细记录。
UNNAMED LAND
Nations ten thousand years before these States, and many times ten thousand years before these States,
Garner’d clusters of ages that men and women like us grew up and travel’d their course and pass’d on,
What vast-built cities, what orderly republics, what pastoral tribes and nomads,
What histories, rulers, heroes, perhaps transcending all others,
What laws, customs, wealth, arts, traditions,
What sort of marriage, what costumes, what physiology and phrenology,
What of liberty and slavery among them, what they thought of death and the soul,
Who were witty and wise, who beautiful and poetic, who brutish and undevelop’d,
Not a mark, not a record remains—and yet all remains.
O I know that those men and women were not for nothing, any more than we are for nothing,
I know that they belong to the scheme of the world every bit as much as we now belong to it.
Afar they stand, yet near to me they stand,
Some with oval countenances learn’d and calm,
Some naked and savage, some like huge collections of insects,
Some in tents, herdsmen, patriarchs, tribes, horsemen,
Some prowling through woods, some living peaceably on farms, laboring, reaping, filling barns,
Some traversing paved avenues, amid temples, palaces, factories, libraries, shows, courts, theatres, wonderful monuments.
Are those billions of men really gone?
Are those women of the old experience of the earth gone?
Do their lives, cities, arts, rest only with us?
Did they achieve nothing for good for themselves?
I believe of all those men and women that fill’d the unnamed lands, every one exists this hour here or elsewhere, invisible to us.
In exact proportion to what he or she grew from in life, and out of what he or she did, felt, became, loved, sinn’d, in life.
I believe that was not the end of those nations or any person of them, any more than this shall be the end of my nation, or of me;
Of their languages, governments, marriage, literature, products, games, wars, manners, crimes, prisons, slaves, heroes, poets,
I suspect their results curiously await in the yet unseen world, counterparts of what accrued to them in the seen world,
I suspect I shall meet them there,
I suspect I shall there find each old particular of those unnamed lands.
为慎重而歌
在曼哈顿的街道上，我悠闲漫步陷入沉思，
思考时间、空间、现实——诸如此类的事情，并且把慎重和它们并排考虑。
关于什么才算慎重，最后的解释总还有待于确定，
它们无论大小总是从配得上不朽永恒的那种慎重出发，安静地落在我的身旁。
灵魂只为自己存在，
一切都向它靠近，一切都与随之发生的有关，
一个人所做、所想、所说的一切，都会有自己的后果，
一个男人或者女人的任何一个举动，并不一定会在某一天、某一月，在生命直接存在期间的某一段时间，或者在死亡到来的那个时刻，对他或者她产生什么影响，
但是它们却会持续下去并在生命已经不直接存在的期间对他或者她产生影响。
不直接存在与直接存在啊，有着同样的意义，
精神从肉体所接受的，与它给予肉体的呀，完完全全地相等，也许还要更多。
没有哪句话或者哪件事，没有哪一种杨梅大疮、皮肤变色、手淫者见不得人的秘事，
哪一种贪吃或滥饮朗姆酒、侵吞钱款、奸诈、背叛、谋杀、诱奸、卖淫之类的腐恶，
不会在死后留下后果，留下与和死前得到的结果一样真实的后果，
唯一有些价值的投资，只有仁爱和个人的力量。
并不需要什么特别的要求，一个男人或者女人所做的任何一切，只要是有活力的、仁慈的、干净的，就会给他或她带来足够多的利润，
带来存在于宇宙不可动摇的秩序中和贯穿于宇宙的整个领域的永远的利润。
明察善断的人接受这红利，
这红利对于野蛮人、重罪犯、总统、法官、农民、水手、机械师、文化人、年轻人、老年人，都是一样的，
红利人人有份——一切都人人有份。
单独地、整体地，影响着此刻，影响着他们的时代，将会永远地影响着，所有的过去，所有的现在和所有的未来，
所有的发生在战争和和平中的勇敢行为，
所有的给予亲友、陌生人、穷人、老人、悲伤的人、年幼的孩子、寡妇、病人，以及被人们回避的人的帮助，
所有坚定而高傲地站在沉船上，看着别人填满小艇座位的自我放弃行为，
所有为了那美好的古老追求，或者为了朋友，或者为了观点，而奉献物质或者生命的行为，
所有的被邻居所讥讽的热心者感受的痛苦，
所有来自母亲的宽广无边的甜蜜之爱和她所承受的弥足珍贵的痛苦，
所有在争斗中遭受挫败的被记录下来和没有被记录下来的诚实者，
所有的来自于我们曾从他们那里接受了片段遗产的古代民族的荣耀和正直品行，
所有的来自于我们不知道名字、时间、地点的数以十计的古老民族所留存的正直品行，
所有那些曾经勇敢坚定地开始进行的功业，不管它们最后是否成功，
所有能够联想到人类思维的神圣或者他口舌具有的神性，以及有关他的伟大的双手是如何形成的事情，
所有这一天在地球上任何一个地方被认真思考或说出的，或者在任何一个浪游着的星球上，或者在任何一个固定不动的星球上，被像我们住在这里一样住在那里的那些人认真思考或说出的，
所有在此以后被你所想到或做了的，无论你是谁，也无论到底是被哪一个，
这些都适合于，已经适合于，将要适合于那特定的身份标志，它们曾经从这些标志跳跃而出，或者将从这些标志跳跃而出。
你曾经以为任何事物的生命只存在于属于它的瞬间吗？
世界不是以这样的方式存在的，任何一个有形和无形的部分都不是这样存在的，
没有哪一次婚床上交媾不是因为很早以前某次婚床上的交媾而发生的，而那一次又是因为另外的某次，
如果不是最早认识到这一点的那个朝着起点比其它任何东西更靠近了一点，这也不会发生。
能让灵魂感到满足的都是真实的，
慎重完全地满足了灵魂所需要的渴望和充足的供应，
而也只有它自己才能最终地满足灵魂的要求，
灵魂有着无法度量的高傲，它叛逆地对待每一种教诲，除了它自己的。
现在我呼吸着慎重这个词，它与时间、空间、现实并肩而行，
它可以与那拒绝除自己之外的一切教诲的高傲相配。
被称为慎重的那个东西不会以割裂的形式存在，
它拒绝把生命中的某一部分和其它的任何部分分开，
它不把正确的和错误的分开，也不把活着的和死去的分开，
它要通过彼此的关联来匹配每一个思想和行为，
它不知道有原谅的可能或者能被委托的赎罪，
它知道一个镇定地把自己的生命投入危险并失去了它的青年，毫无疑问地是替他自己采取了极为正确的行动，
而那个从不把自己的生命置于危险之中，而是在富裕和安逸里把它保有到老年的他，可能并没有为自己取得什么值得一提的成就，
它知道真正有学识的人是学过如何对结果更为偏好的人，
是对肉体和灵魂同样偏爱的人，
是认识到不直接的存在肯定会紧随着直接存在而来的人，
是在他的精神里，在不管任何样子的紧急情况下都既不匆忙迎接也不回避死亡的人。
SONG OF PRUDENCE
Manhattan’s streets I saunter’d pondering,
On Time, Space, Reality—on such as these, and abreast with them Prudence.
The last explanation always remains to be made about prudence,
Little and large alike drop quietly aside from the prudence that suits immortality.
The soul is of itself,
All verges to it, all has reference to what ensues,
All that a person does, says, thinks, is of consequence,
Not a move can a man or woman make, that affects him or her in a day, month, any part of the direct lifetime, or the hour of death,
But the same affects him or her onward afterward through the indirect lifetime.
The indirect is just as much as the direct,
The spirit receives from the body just as much as it gives to the body, if not more.
Not one word or deed, not venereal sore, discoloration, privacy of the onanist,
Putridity of gluttons or rum-drinkers, peculation, cunning, betrayal, murder, seduction, prostitution,
But has results beyond death as really as before death.
Charity and personal force are the only investments worth any thing.
No specification is necessary, all that a male or female does, that is vigorous, benevolent, clean, is so much profit to him or her,
In the unshakable order of the universe and through the whole scope of it forever.
Who has been wise receives interest,
Savage, felon, President, judge, farmer, sailor, mechanic, literat, young, old, it is the same,
The interest will come round—all will come round.
Singly, wholly, to affect now, affected their time, will forever affect, all of the past and all of the present and all of the future,
All the brave actions of war and peace,
All help given to relatives, strangers, the poor, old, sorrowful, young children, widows, the sick, and to shunn’d persons,
All self-denial that stood steady and aloof on wrecks, and saw others fill the seats of the boats,
All offering of substance or life for the good old cause, or for a friend’s sake, or opinion’s sake,
All pains of enthusiasts scoff’d at by their neighbors,
All the limitless sweet love and precious suffering of mothers,
All honest men baffled in strifes recorded or unrecorded,
All the grandeur and good of ancient nations whose fragments we inherit,
All the good of the dozens of ancient nations unknown to us by name, date, location,
All that was ever manfully begun, whether it succeeded or no,
All suggestions of the divine mind of man or the divinity of his mouth, or the shaping of his great hands,
All that is well thought or said this day on any part of the globe, or on any of the wandering stars, or on any of the fix’d stars, by those there as we are here,
All that is henceforth to be thought or done by you whoever you are, or by any one,
These inure, have inured, shall inure, to the identities from which they sprang, or shall spring.
Did you guess any thing lived only its moment?
The world does not so exist, no parts palpable or impalpable so exist,
No consummation exists without being from some long previous consummation, and that from some other,
Without the farthest conceivable one coming a bit nearer the beginning than any.
Whatever satisfies souls is true;
Prudence entirely satisfies the craving and glut of souls,
Itself only finally satisfies the soul,
The soul has that measureless pride which revolts from every lesson but its own.
Now I breathe the word of the prudence that walks abreast with time, space, reality,
That answers the pride which refuses every lesson but its own.
What is prudence is indivisible,
Declines to separate one part of life from every part,
Divides not the righteous from the unrighteous or the living from the dead,
Matches every thought or act by its correlative,
Knows no possible forgiveness or deputed atonement,
Knows that the young man who composedly peril’d his life and lost it has done exceedingly well for himself without doubt,
That he who never peril’d his life, but retains it to old age in riches and ease, has probably achiev’d nothing for himself worth mentioning,
Knows that only that person has really learn’d who has learn’d to prefer results,
Who favors body and soul the same,
Who perceives the indirect assuredly following the direct,
Who in his spirit in any emergency whatever neither hurries nor avoids death.
在曼哈顿的街道上，我悠闲漫步陷入沉思，
思考时间、空间、现实——诸如此类的事情，并且把慎重和它们并排考虑。
关于什么才算慎重，最后的解释总还有待于确定，
它们无论大小总是从配得上不朽永恒的那种慎重出发，安静地落在我的身旁。
灵魂只为自己存在，
一切都向它靠近，一切都与随之发生的有关，
一个人所做、所想、所说的一切，都会有自己的后果，
一个男人或者女人的任何一个举动，并不一定会在某一天、某一月，在生命直接存在期间的某一段时间，或者在死亡到来的那个时刻，对他或者她产生什么影响，
但是它们却会持续下去并在生命已经不直接存在的期间对他或者她产生影响。
不直接存在与直接存在啊，有着同样的意义，
精神从肉体所接受的，与它给予肉体的呀，完完全全地相等，也许还要更多。
没有哪句话或者哪件事，没有哪一种杨梅大疮、皮肤变色、手淫者见不得人的秘事，
哪一种贪吃或滥饮朗姆酒、侵吞钱款、奸诈、背叛、谋杀、诱奸、卖淫之类的腐恶，
不会在死后留下后果，留下与和死前得到的结果一样真实的后果，
唯一有些价值的投资，只有仁爱和个人的力量。
并不需要什么特别的要求，一个男人或者女人所做的任何一切，只要是有活力的、仁慈的、干净的，就会给他或她带来足够多的利润，
带来存在于宇宙不可动摇的秩序中和贯穿于宇宙的整个领域的永远的利润。
明察善断的人接受这红利，
这红利对于野蛮人、重罪犯、总统、法官、农民、水手、机械师、文化人、年轻人、老年人，都是一样的，
红利人人有份——一切都人人有份。
单独地、整体地，影响着此刻，影响着他们的时代，将会永远地影响着，所有的过去，所有的现在和所有的未来，
所有的发生在战争和和平中的勇敢行为，
所有的给予亲友、陌生人、穷人、老人、悲伤的人、年幼的孩子、寡妇、病人，以及被人们回避的人的帮助，
所有坚定而高傲地站在沉船上，看着别人填满小艇座位的自我放弃行为，
所有为了那美好的古老追求，或者为了朋友，或者为了观点，而奉献物质或者生命的行为，
所有的被邻居所讥讽的热心者感受的痛苦，
所有来自母亲的宽广无边的甜蜜之爱和她所承受的弥足珍贵的痛苦，
所有在争斗中遭受挫败的被记录下来和没有被记录下来的诚实者，
所有的来自于我们曾从他们那里接受了片段遗产的古代民族的荣耀和正直品行，
所有的来自于我们不知道名字、时间、地点的数以十计的古老民族所留存的正直品行，
所有那些曾经勇敢坚定地开始进行的功业，不管它们最后是否成功，
所有能够联想到人类思维的神圣或者他口舌具有的神性，以及有关他的伟大的双手是如何形成的事情，
所有这一天在地球上任何一个地方被认真思考或说出的，或者在任何一个浪游着的星球上，或者在任何一个固定不动的星球上，被像我们住在这里一样住在那里的那些人认真思考或说出的，
所有在此以后被你所想到或做了的，无论你是谁，也无论到底是被哪一个，
这些都适合于，已经适合于，将要适合于那特定的身份标志，它们曾经从这些标志跳跃而出，或者将从这些标志跳跃而出。
你曾经以为任何事物的生命只存在于属于它的瞬间吗？
世界不是以这样的方式存在的，任何一个有形和无形的部分都不是这样存在的，
没有哪一次婚床上交媾不是因为很早以前某次婚床上的交媾而发生的，而那一次又是因为另外的某次，
如果不是最早认识到这一点的那个朝着起点比其它任何东西更靠近了一点，这也不会发生。
能让灵魂感到满足的都是真实的，
慎重完全地满足了灵魂所需要的渴望和充足的供应，
而也只有它自己才能最终地满足灵魂的要求，
灵魂有着无法度量的高傲，它叛逆地对待每一种教诲，除了它自己的。
现在我呼吸着慎重这个词，它与时间、空间、现实并肩而行，
它可以与那拒绝除自己之外的一切教诲的高傲相配。
被称为慎重的那个东西不会以割裂的形式存在，
它拒绝把生命中的某一部分和其它的任何部分分开，
它不把正确的和错误的分开，也不把活着的和死去的分开，
它要通过彼此的关联来匹配每一个思想和行为，
它不知道有原谅的可能或者能被委托的赎罪，
它知道一个镇定地把自己的生命投入危险并失去了它的青年，毫无疑问地是替他自己采取了极为正确的行动，
而那个从不把自己的生命置于危险之中，而是在富裕和安逸里把它保有到老年的他，可能并没有为自己取得什么值得一提的成就，
它知道真正有学识的人是学过如何对结果更为偏好的人，
是对肉体和灵魂同样偏爱的人，
是认识到不直接的存在肯定会紧随着直接存在而来的人，
是在他的精神里，在不管任何样子的紧急情况下都既不匆忙迎接也不回避死亡的人。
SONG OF PRUDENCE
Manhattan’s streets I saunter’d pondering,
On Time, Space, Reality—on such as these, and abreast with them Prudence.
The last explanation always remains to be made about prudence,
Little and large alike drop quietly aside from the prudence that suits immortality.
The soul is of itself,
All verges to it, all has reference to what ensues,
All that a person does, says, thinks, is of consequence,
Not a move can a man or woman make, that affects him or her in a day, month, any part of the direct lifetime, or the hour of death,
But the same affects him or her onward afterward through the indirect lifetime.
The indirect is just as much as the direct,
The spirit receives from the body just as much as it gives to the body, if not more.
Not one word or deed, not venereal sore, discoloration, privacy of the onanist,
Putridity of gluttons or rum-drinkers, peculation, cunning, betrayal, murder, seduction, prostitution,
But has results beyond death as really as before death.
Charity and personal force are the only investments worth any thing.
No specification is necessary, all that a male or female does, that is vigorous, benevolent, clean, is so much profit to him or her,
In the unshakable order of the universe and through the whole scope of it forever.
Who has been wise receives interest,
Savage, felon, President, judge, farmer, sailor, mechanic, literat, young, old, it is the same,
The interest will come round—all will come round.
Singly, wholly, to affect now, affected their time, will forever affect, all of the past and all of the present and all of the future,
All the brave actions of war and peace,
All help given to relatives, strangers, the poor, old, sorrowful, young children, widows, the sick, and to shunn’d persons,
All self-denial that stood steady and aloof on wrecks, and saw others fill the seats of the boats,
All offering of substance or life for the good old cause, or for a friend’s sake, or opinion’s sake,
All pains of enthusiasts scoff’d at by their neighbors,
All the limitless sweet love and precious suffering of mothers,
All honest men baffled in strifes recorded or unrecorded,
All the grandeur and good of ancient nations whose fragments we inherit,
All the good of the dozens of ancient nations unknown to us by name, date, location,
All that was ever manfully begun, whether it succeeded or no,
All suggestions of the divine mind of man or the divinity of his mouth, or the shaping of his great hands,
All that is well thought or said this day on any part of the globe, or on any of the wandering stars, or on any of the fix’d stars, by those there as we are here,
All that is henceforth to be thought or done by you whoever you are, or by any one,
These inure, have inured, shall inure, to the identities from which they sprang, or shall spring.
Did you guess any thing lived only its moment?
The world does not so exist, no parts palpable or impalpable so exist,
No consummation exists without being from some long previous consummation, and that from some other,
Without the farthest conceivable one coming a bit nearer the beginning than any.
Whatever satisfies souls is true;
Prudence entirely satisfies the craving and glut of souls,
Itself only finally satisfies the soul,
The soul has that measureless pride which revolts from every lesson but its own.
Now I breathe the word of the prudence that walks abreast with time, space, reality,
That answers the pride which refuses every lesson but its own.
What is prudence is indivisible,
Declines to separate one part of life from every part,
Divides not the righteous from the unrighteous or the living from the dead,
Matches every thought or act by its correlative,
Knows no possible forgiveness or deputed atonement,
Knows that the young man who composedly peril’d his life and lost it has done exceedingly well for himself without doubt,
That he who never peril’d his life, but retains it to old age in riches and ease, has probably achiev’d nothing for himself worth mentioning,
Knows that only that person has really learn’d who has learn’d to prefer results,
Who favors body and soul the same,
Who perceives the indirect assuredly following the direct,
Who in his spirit in any emergency whatever neither hurries nor avoids death.
监狱里的歌唱家
哦，可怜、羞耻和哀伤的场景，
哦，可怕的想法——一个灵魂被定下了罪名。
1
重复咏唱的副歌沿着狱中的大厅响起，
升起到屋顶，升起到位于其上的天空穹顶，
旋律如潮水灌注，如此忧伤如此甜蜜如此震撼的曲调，这样的曲调啊，从来不曾听到，
它到达了远处的岗哨，到达了持枪的守卫，使他们停下了脚步，
听见了的人啊，脉搏在亢奋和敬畏中停止了跳动。
THE SINGER IN THE PRISON
O sight of pity, shame and dole!
O fearful thought—a convict soul.
1
Rang the refrain along the hall, the prison,
Rose to the roof, the vaults of heaven above,
Pouring in floods of melody in tones so pensive sweet and strong the like whereof was never heard,
Reaching the far-off sentry and the armed guards, who ceas’d their pacing,
Making the hearer’s pulses stop for ecstasy and awe.
哦，可怜、羞耻和哀伤的场景，
哦，可怕的想法——一个灵魂被定下了罪名。
1
重复咏唱的副歌沿着狱中的大厅响起，
升起到屋顶，升起到位于其上的天空穹顶，
旋律如潮水灌注，如此忧伤如此甜蜜如此震撼的曲调，这样的曲调啊，从来不曾听到，
它到达了远处的岗哨，到达了持枪的守卫，使他们停下了脚步，
听见了的人啊，脉搏在亢奋和敬畏中停止了跳动。
THE SINGER IN THE PRISON
O sight of pity, shame and dole!
O fearful thought—a convict soul.
1
Rang the refrain along the hall, the prison,
Rose to the roof, the vaults of heaven above,
Pouring in floods of melody in tones so pensive sweet and strong the like whereof was never heard,
Reaching the far-off sentry and the armed guards, who ceas’d their pacing,
Making the hearer’s pulses stop for ecstasy and awe.
监狱里的歌唱家
2
一个冬天的日子，太阳低垂在西边，
此时沿着一条从在这片土地做下偷盗和不法勾当者中间通过的窄窄通道，
（成百上千的这些人坐在那里，脸部有烧伤疤痕的谋杀犯，诡计多端的制假者，
集合在监狱的围墙里面的周日的教堂里，周围布满看守，
数量众多，全副武装，他们用警惕的眼睛监视着，）
一个女士平静地走过，双手分别领着一个天真的孩童，
她让孩子们坐在讲台上，坐在她的身边，坐在他们的凳子上，
然后她，先用乐器地奏出了一段低沉的富有乐感的前奏，
用赛过一切的声音，唱出了一首古雅的古老圣歌：
一个被囚禁的灵魂，囚禁在栏杆和镣铐里头，
喊叫着，救我！哦，救我！她拧绞着双手，
她的双眼被蒙着，鲜血流淌在她的胸口，
没有人表示宽恕，也得不到让她安歇的膏油。。
从这边走到那边，她的步子不肯歇停，
哦，白天消沉郁闷！哦，夜晚哀痛悲叹！
握不到亲朋的双手，看不到热爱的脸庞，
感受不到他人的宠爱，也听不到善意的言谈。
但那个人并不是我呀，犯下罪孽的那个人，
是那冷酷肉体的拖拽，让我陷入罪恶深渊，
尽管也曾满怀勇气挣扎，挣扎过很久时间，
但是肉体的力量太大，我实在无法逃遁。
被囚禁的亲爱灵魂呀，请再忍耐一会，
那个特定的恩惠啊，它早晚总要到来，
它会给你自由，它将带你回家，
死亡会作为赦罪者啊，他将从天堂到来。
你将不再有罪名，你也不再有羞耻悲伤！
你将这样离去——作为被上帝恩准的魂灵。
THE SINGER IN THE PRISON
2
The sun was low in the west one winter day,
When down a narrow aisle amid the thieves and outlaws of the land,
(There by the hundreds seated, sear-faced murderers, wily counterfeiters,
Gather’d to Sunday church in prison walls, the keepers round,
Plenteous, well-armed, watching with vigilant eyes,)
Calmly a lady walk’d holding a little innocent child by either hand,
Whom seating on their stools beside her on the platform,
She, first preluding with the instrument a low and musical prelude,
In voice surpassing all, sang forth a quaint old hymn.
A soul confined by bars and bands,
Cries, help! O help! and wrings her hands,
Blinded her eyes, bleeding her breast,
Nor pardon finds, nor balm of rest.
Ceaseless she paces to and fro,
O heart-sick days! O nights of woe!
Nor hand of friend, nor loving face,
Nor favor comes, nor word of grace.
It was not I that sinn’d the sin,
The ruthless body dragg’d me in;
Though long I strove courageously,
The body was too much for me.
Dear prison’d soul bear up a space,
For soon or late the certain grace;
To set thee free and bear thee home,
The heavenly pardoner death shall come.
Convict no more, nor shame, nor dole!
Depart—a God-enfranchis’d soul!
2
一个冬天的日子，太阳低垂在西边，
此时沿着一条从在这片土地做下偷盗和不法勾当者中间通过的窄窄通道，
（成百上千的这些人坐在那里，脸部有烧伤疤痕的谋杀犯，诡计多端的制假者，
集合在监狱的围墙里面的周日的教堂里，周围布满看守，
数量众多，全副武装，他们用警惕的眼睛监视着，）
一个女士平静地走过，双手分别领着一个天真的孩童，
她让孩子们坐在讲台上，坐在她的身边，坐在他们的凳子上，
然后她，先用乐器地奏出了一段低沉的富有乐感的前奏，
用赛过一切的声音，唱出了一首古雅的古老圣歌：
一个被囚禁的灵魂，囚禁在栏杆和镣铐里头，
喊叫着，救我！哦，救我！她拧绞着双手，
她的双眼被蒙着，鲜血流淌在她的胸口，
没有人表示宽恕，也得不到让她安歇的膏油。。
从这边走到那边，她的步子不肯歇停，
哦，白天消沉郁闷！哦，夜晚哀痛悲叹！
握不到亲朋的双手，看不到热爱的脸庞，
感受不到他人的宠爱，也听不到善意的言谈。
但那个人并不是我呀，犯下罪孽的那个人，
是那冷酷肉体的拖拽，让我陷入罪恶深渊，
尽管也曾满怀勇气挣扎，挣扎过很久时间，
但是肉体的力量太大，我实在无法逃遁。
被囚禁的亲爱灵魂呀，请再忍耐一会，
那个特定的恩惠啊，它早晚总要到来，
它会给你自由，它将带你回家，
死亡会作为赦罪者啊，他将从天堂到来。
你将不再有罪名，你也不再有羞耻悲伤！
你将这样离去——作为被上帝恩准的魂灵。
THE SINGER IN THE PRISON
2
The sun was low in the west one winter day,
When down a narrow aisle amid the thieves and outlaws of the land,
(There by the hundreds seated, sear-faced murderers, wily counterfeiters,
Gather’d to Sunday church in prison walls, the keepers round,
Plenteous, well-armed, watching with vigilant eyes,)
Calmly a lady walk’d holding a little innocent child by either hand,
Whom seating on their stools beside her on the platform,
She, first preluding with the instrument a low and musical prelude,
In voice surpassing all, sang forth a quaint old hymn.
A soul confined by bars and bands,
Cries, help! O help! and wrings her hands,
Blinded her eyes, bleeding her breast,
Nor pardon finds, nor balm of rest.
Ceaseless she paces to and fro,
O heart-sick days! O nights of woe!
Nor hand of friend, nor loving face,
Nor favor comes, nor word of grace.
It was not I that sinn’d the sin,
The ruthless body dragg’d me in;
Though long I strove courageously,
The body was too much for me.
Dear prison’d soul bear up a space,
For soon or late the certain grace;
To set thee free and bear thee home,
The heavenly pardoner death shall come.
Convict no more, nor shame, nor dole!
Depart—a God-enfranchis’d soul!
监狱里的歌唱家
3
歌唱家停下了，
她清澈平静的眼睛射出了一道视线，扫向了所有那些仰起的脸庞，
这是由囚犯的面孔组成的奇异的海洋啊，一千个面孔一千个模样，狡诈的、残忍的、长着皱纹的、美丽的，
然后她站起身来，沿着他们中间的那条窄窄的通道，走了回去，
她的长裙挨擦着他们，在寂静中唏簌作响，
和她的孩子一起，她消失在暮色之中。
此刻，所有的人，罪犯和带着枪的守卫，在他们做出任何动作之前，
（忘记了监狱的罪犯，忘记了上了膛的手枪的守卫，）
在这奇妙的一瞬间沉浸于无声和停滞之中，
只有强忍着的深沉呜咽，以及恶人低下头颅被感动到流泪的声音，
还有青年人抽搐不齐的呼吸和对家乡的回忆，
母亲哼着摇篮曲的声音，姐妹们的爱护，快乐的童年时代，
被长久禁锢的精灵浮现在了记忆的片段之中；
这是那时出现的奇迹般的一刻——但是此后在孤独的夜里，对于在那里的许多，许多人来说，
在之后的岁月里，甚至在死亡来临的时候，这段悲伤的副歌，音调、声音、歌词，
还会再次响起，那个高大平静的女士走过窄窄的通道，
那哀泣着的旋律再一次响起，来到监狱的歌唱家歌唱着，
哦，可怜、羞耻和哀伤的场景，
哦，可怕的想法——一个灵魂被定下了罪名。
THE SINGER IN THE PRISON
3
The singer ceas’d,
One glance swept from her clear calm eyes o’er all those upturn’d faces,
Strange sea of prison faces, a thousand varied, crafty, brutal, seam’d and beauteous faces,
Then rising, passing back along the narrow aisle between them,
While her gown touch’d them rustling in the silence,
She vanish’d with her children in the dusk.
While upon all, convicts and armed keepers ere they stirr’d,
(Convict forgetting prison, keeper his loaded pistol,)
A hush and pause fell down a wondrous minute,
With deep half-stifled sobs and sound of bad men bow’d and moved to weeping,
And youth’s convulsive breathings, memories of home,
The mother’s voice in lullaby, the sister’s care, the happy childhood,
The long-pent spirit rous’d to reminiscence;
A wondrous minute then—but after in the solitary night, to many, many there,
Years after, even in the hour of death, the sad refrain, the tune, the voice, the words,
Resumed, the large calm lady walks the narrow aisle,
The wailing melody again, the singer in the prison sings,
O sight of pity, shame and dole!
O fearful thought—a convict soul.
3
歌唱家停下了，
她清澈平静的眼睛射出了一道视线，扫向了所有那些仰起的脸庞，
这是由囚犯的面孔组成的奇异的海洋啊，一千个面孔一千个模样，狡诈的、残忍的、长着皱纹的、美丽的，
然后她站起身来，沿着他们中间的那条窄窄的通道，走了回去，
她的长裙挨擦着他们，在寂静中唏簌作响，
和她的孩子一起，她消失在暮色之中。
此刻，所有的人，罪犯和带着枪的守卫，在他们做出任何动作之前，
（忘记了监狱的罪犯，忘记了上了膛的手枪的守卫，）
在这奇妙的一瞬间沉浸于无声和停滞之中，
只有强忍着的深沉呜咽，以及恶人低下头颅被感动到流泪的声音，
还有青年人抽搐不齐的呼吸和对家乡的回忆，
母亲哼着摇篮曲的声音，姐妹们的爱护，快乐的童年时代，
被长久禁锢的精灵浮现在了记忆的片段之中；
这是那时出现的奇迹般的一刻——但是此后在孤独的夜里，对于在那里的许多，许多人来说，
在之后的岁月里，甚至在死亡来临的时候，这段悲伤的副歌，音调、声音、歌词，
还会再次响起，那个高大平静的女士走过窄窄的通道，
那哀泣着的旋律再一次响起，来到监狱的歌唱家歌唱着，
哦，可怜、羞耻和哀伤的场景，
哦，可怕的想法——一个灵魂被定下了罪名。
THE SINGER IN THE PRISON
3
The singer ceas’d,
One glance swept from her clear calm eyes o’er all those upturn’d faces,
Strange sea of prison faces, a thousand varied, crafty, brutal, seam’d and beauteous faces,
Then rising, passing back along the narrow aisle between them,
While her gown touch’d them rustling in the silence,
She vanish’d with her children in the dusk.
While upon all, convicts and armed keepers ere they stirr’d,
(Convict forgetting prison, keeper his loaded pistol,)
A hush and pause fell down a wondrous minute,
With deep half-stifled sobs and sound of bad men bow’d and moved to weeping,
And youth’s convulsive breathings, memories of home,
The mother’s voice in lullaby, the sister’s care, the happy childhood,
The long-pent spirit rous’d to reminiscence;
A wondrous minute then—but after in the solitary night, to many, many there,
Years after, even in the hour of death, the sad refrain, the tune, the voice, the words,
Resumed, the large calm lady walks the narrow aisle,
The wailing melody again, the singer in the prison sings,
O sight of pity, shame and dole!
O fearful thought—a convict soul.
为丁香开放的时候婉转啁鸣
为了丁香开放时候的快乐，（这快乐正随着旧日的记忆归来，）请现在为我婉转啁鸣，
为了大自然的缘故，哦，舌头与口唇们啊，为我找寻那最初的夏日纪念，
收集那些热切等待着的信号，（就像孩子们收集石砾或者成串的贝壳，）
在四月和五月缀上池塘里雨蛙的呱呱鸣叫和柔韧可塑的空气，
蜜蜂、蝴蝶，还有麻雀以及它那简单的音符，
蓝鸟和疾飞而过的燕子，也不要忘了扑打着他那金色翅膀的金翼啄木鸟，
薄雾宁静，透满阳光，青烟袅袅，水汽升腾，
闪着亮光的水面，水下鱼儿游动，天空一片湛蓝，
一切都欢快愉悦，明亮扑闪，条条小溪奔走流淌，
枫树林中，二月的日子鲜脆洁净，糖浆正在酿造，
知更鸟在那里蹦蹦跳跳，眼睛明亮，胸部覆盖着褐色的胸羽，
日出时发出富于音乐节律的清澈的鸣叫，日落时再发出同样的声音，
有时轻快地穿梭在苹果园的树木之间，为他的伴侣搭筑爱巢，
三月雪水融化，柳树发出了青黄色的枝条，
因为春天的时刻来到了这里！夏天来到了这里！那么这存在于其中的和由它而来的又是什么呢？
是你，灵魂呀，被释放出来——为我所不知道的原因而燥动而不安，
来呀，让我们不要再逗留在这里呀，让我们向上，让我们远去！
哦，但愿人能像鸟儿一样飞翔！
哦，去逃脱，像驾着一条船儿一样向前航行！
和你一起翱翔，哦，灵魂，凌于一切之上，处于一切之中，像一条驶于水面之上的船儿；
收集起这些暗示，这些序曲，这蓝天，这青草，这早晨降下的朝露，
这丁香的香气，这有着深绿色心状叶片的树丛，
紫苏木，那被人用清白无瑕来称呼的小而纤细的淡淡的花朵，
它们并不是仅仅为了自身而存在的样品和类别，它们也为了自己的氛围而存在，
来祝福这被我所热爱的树丛呀——来和鸟儿们一起歌唱呀，
这是为了正在旧日记忆中归来的快乐而响起的婉转啁鸣。
WARBLE FOR LILAC-TIME
Warble me now for joy of lilac-time, (returning in reminiscence,)
Sort me O tongue and lips for Nature’s sake, souvenirs of earliest summer,
Gather the welcome signs, (as children with pebbles or stringing shells,)
Put in April and May, the hylas croaking in the ponds, the elastic air,
Bees, butterflies, the sparrow with its simple notes,
Blue-bird and darting swallow, nor forget the high-hole flashing his golden wings,
The tranquil sunny haze, the clinging smoke, the vapor,
Shimmer of waters with fish in them, the cerulean above,
All that is jocund and sparkling, the brooks running,
The maple woods, the crisp February days and the sugar-making, The robin where he hops, bright-eyed, brown-breasted,
With musical clear call at sunrise, and again at sunset,
Or flitting among the trees of the apple-orchard, building the nest of his mate,
The melted snow of March, the willow sending forth its yellow-green sprouts,
For spring-time is here! the summer is here! and what is this in it and from it?
Thou, soul, unloosen’d—the restlessness after I know not what;
Come, let us lag here no longer, let us be up and away!
O if one could but fly like a bird!
O to escape, to sail forth as in a ship!
To glide with thee O soul, o’er all, in all, as a ship o’er the waters;
Gathering these hints, the preludes, the blue sky, the grass, the morning drops of dew,
The lilac-scent, the bushes with dark green heart-shaped leaves,
Wood-violets, the little delicate pale blossoms called innocence,
Samples and sorts not for themselves alone, but for their atmosphere,
To grace the bush I love—to sing with the birds,
A warble for joy of returning in reminiscence.
为了丁香开放时候的快乐，（这快乐正随着旧日的记忆归来，）请现在为我婉转啁鸣，
为了大自然的缘故，哦，舌头与口唇们啊，为我找寻那最初的夏日纪念，
收集那些热切等待着的信号，（就像孩子们收集石砾或者成串的贝壳，）
在四月和五月缀上池塘里雨蛙的呱呱鸣叫和柔韧可塑的空气，
蜜蜂、蝴蝶，还有麻雀以及它那简单的音符，
蓝鸟和疾飞而过的燕子，也不要忘了扑打着他那金色翅膀的金翼啄木鸟，
薄雾宁静，透满阳光，青烟袅袅，水汽升腾，
闪着亮光的水面，水下鱼儿游动，天空一片湛蓝，
一切都欢快愉悦，明亮扑闪，条条小溪奔走流淌，
枫树林中，二月的日子鲜脆洁净，糖浆正在酿造，
知更鸟在那里蹦蹦跳跳，眼睛明亮，胸部覆盖着褐色的胸羽，
日出时发出富于音乐节律的清澈的鸣叫，日落时再发出同样的声音，
有时轻快地穿梭在苹果园的树木之间，为他的伴侣搭筑爱巢，
三月雪水融化，柳树发出了青黄色的枝条，
因为春天的时刻来到了这里！夏天来到了这里！那么这存在于其中的和由它而来的又是什么呢？
是你，灵魂呀，被释放出来——为我所不知道的原因而燥动而不安，
来呀，让我们不要再逗留在这里呀，让我们向上，让我们远去！
哦，但愿人能像鸟儿一样飞翔！
哦，去逃脱，像驾着一条船儿一样向前航行！
和你一起翱翔，哦，灵魂，凌于一切之上，处于一切之中，像一条驶于水面之上的船儿；
收集起这些暗示，这些序曲，这蓝天，这青草，这早晨降下的朝露，
这丁香的香气，这有着深绿色心状叶片的树丛，
紫苏木，那被人用清白无瑕来称呼的小而纤细的淡淡的花朵，
它们并不是仅仅为了自身而存在的样品和类别，它们也为了自己的氛围而存在，
来祝福这被我所热爱的树丛呀——来和鸟儿们一起歌唱呀，
这是为了正在旧日记忆中归来的快乐而响起的婉转啁鸣。
WARBLE FOR LILAC-TIME
Warble me now for joy of lilac-time, (returning in reminiscence,)
Sort me O tongue and lips for Nature’s sake, souvenirs of earliest summer,
Gather the welcome signs, (as children with pebbles or stringing shells,)
Put in April and May, the hylas croaking in the ponds, the elastic air,
Bees, butterflies, the sparrow with its simple notes,
Blue-bird and darting swallow, nor forget the high-hole flashing his golden wings,
The tranquil sunny haze, the clinging smoke, the vapor,
Shimmer of waters with fish in them, the cerulean above,
All that is jocund and sparkling, the brooks running,
The maple woods, the crisp February days and the sugar-making, The robin where he hops, bright-eyed, brown-breasted,
With musical clear call at sunrise, and again at sunset,
Or flitting among the trees of the apple-orchard, building the nest of his mate,
The melted snow of March, the willow sending forth its yellow-green sprouts,
For spring-time is here! the summer is here! and what is this in it and from it?
Thou, soul, unloosen’d—the restlessness after I know not what;
Come, let us lag here no longer, let us be up and away!
O if one could but fly like a bird!
O to escape, to sail forth as in a ship!
To glide with thee O soul, o’er all, in all, as a ship o’er the waters;
Gathering these hints, the preludes, the blue sky, the grass, the morning drops of dew,
The lilac-scent, the bushes with dark green heart-shaped leaves,
Wood-violets, the little delicate pale blossoms called innocence,
Samples and sorts not for themselves alone, but for their atmosphere,
To grace the bush I love—to sing with the birds,
A warble for joy of returning in reminiscence.
一座坟墓的墓志铭（G. P.，葬于1870年）
1
我们能颂扬些什么，哦，对于在这座坟墓中的你？
什么样的牌匾、墓志铭能为你悬挂，哦，百万富翁？
我们不了解你的生命怎样度过，
除了知道你的岁月消耗在了买进卖出和掮客的纠缠追逐中，
你没有什么英雄事迹，没参加过战争，没有得到过什么荣耀。
OUTLINES FOR A TOMB (G. P., BURIED 1870)
1
What may we chant, O thou within this tomb?
What tablets, outlines, hang for thee, O millionnaire?
The life thou lived’st we know not,
But that thou walk’dst thy years in barter, ‘mid the haunts of brokers,
Nor heroism thine, nor war, nor glory.
1
我们能颂扬些什么，哦，对于在这座坟墓中的你？
什么样的牌匾、墓志铭能为你悬挂，哦，百万富翁？
我们不了解你的生命怎样度过，
除了知道你的岁月消耗在了买进卖出和掮客的纠缠追逐中，
你没有什么英雄事迹，没参加过战争，没有得到过什么荣耀。
OUTLINES FOR A TOMB (G. P., BURIED 1870)
1
What may we chant, O thou within this tomb?
What tablets, outlines, hang for thee, O millionnaire?
The life thou lived’st we know not,
But that thou walk’dst thy years in barter, ‘mid the haunts of brokers,
Nor heroism thine, nor war, nor glory.
一座坟墓的墓志铭（G. P.，葬于1870年）
2
陷入沉默，我的灵魂，
垂下眼皮，仿佛在等待什么，进入了沉思，
不再围绕着什么英雄榜样、英雄丰碑。
此时穿过内心的视角，
像幻影一样，（如同北方夜晚的极光），无声无息地升起了，
那些如微光摇曳的画面，那些富含预言的，没有实体的景象，
那些来自精神的投影。
在一个景象中，在城市的街道中间出现了一个劳动者的家庭，
在他完成了一天的工作之后，干干净净地，空气清新流通的条件下，煤气灯燃烧起来，
地毯打扫好了，令人振奋的炉膛里点好了火。
在一个景象中，是那神圣的分娩的场景，
一个快乐的没有感到痛楚的母亲生下了一个完美的孩子。
在一个景象中，一顿丰盛的早餐的餐桌旁，
坐着一对心平气和的父母，领着他们心满意足的儿子们。
在一个景象中，三三两两的年轻人，
成百上千的朝着同一个方向，走在小道、街道和大路上，
走向那有着高高拱顶的学校。
在一个景象中，有一个美丽的三人组合，
祖母、可爱的女儿、那可爱的女儿的女儿，坐在那里，
边聊天边做着缝纫。
在一个景象中，在由装饰高贵的房间组成的整个套间里，
在大量的书籍、杂志，墙上的图画，精致的小雕像中间，
友善的出了师的工匠们和年老年少的机械师们一群群地在那里，
阅读、交谈。
所有的，所有的由劳动生活展示的场景，
从城市到乡村，女人们的、男人们的和孩子们的，
他们那得到了满足的需求，在日光下染上了色彩并终于被快乐点染，
婚嫁、街道、工厂、农场、大房子里的房间、租住的房间，
劳动和报酬、浴室、体育馆、游乐场所、图书馆、学院，
学生，男孩和女孩，被领进去受教育，
病人得到了照料，没有鞋的人穿上了鞋子，孤儿得到了父爱和母爱，
饥饿的人得到了食物，沒有房子的得到了房子，
（这些愿望无可指责，并且神圣，
这些工作，这些细碎，恰恰构成了人。）
OUTLINES FOR A TOMB (G. P., BURIED 1870)
2
Silent, my soul,
With drooping lids, as waiting, ponder’d,
Turning from all the samples, monuments of heroes.
While through the interior vistas,
Noiseless uprose, phantasmic, (as by night Auroras of the north,)
Lambent tableaus, prophetic, bodiless scenes,
Spiritual projections.
In one, among the city streets a laborer’s home appear’d,
After his day’s work done, cleanly, sweet-air’d, the gaslight burning,
The carpet swept and a fire in the cheerful stove.
In one, the sacred parturition scene,
A happy painless mother birth’d a perfect child.
In one, at a bounteous morning meal,
Sat peaceful parents with contented sons.
In one, by twos and threes, young people,
Hundreds concentring, walk’d the paths and streets and roads,
Toward a tall-domed school.
In one a trio beautiful,
Grandmother, loving daughter, loving daughter’s daughter, sat,
Chatting and sewing.
In one, along a suite of noble rooms,
‘Mid plenteous books and journals, paintings on the walls, fine statuettes,
Were groups of friendly journeymen, mechanics young and old,
Reading, conversing.
All, all the shows of laboring life,
City and country, women’s, men’s and children’s,
Their wants provided for, hued in the sun and tinged for once with joy,
Marriage, the street, the factory, farm, the house-room, lodging-room,
Labor and toll, the bath, gymnasium, playground, library, college,
The student, boy or girl, led forward to be taught,
The sick cared for, the shoeless shod, the orphan father’d and mother’d,
The hungry fed, the houseless housed;
(The intentions perfect and divine,
The workings, details, haply human.)
2
陷入沉默，我的灵魂，
垂下眼皮，仿佛在等待什么，进入了沉思，
不再围绕着什么英雄榜样、英雄丰碑。
此时穿过内心的视角，
像幻影一样，（如同北方夜晚的极光），无声无息地升起了，
那些如微光摇曳的画面，那些富含预言的，没有实体的景象，
那些来自精神的投影。
在一个景象中，在城市的街道中间出现了一个劳动者的家庭，
在他完成了一天的工作之后，干干净净地，空气清新流通的条件下，煤气灯燃烧起来，
地毯打扫好了，令人振奋的炉膛里点好了火。
在一个景象中，是那神圣的分娩的场景，
一个快乐的没有感到痛楚的母亲生下了一个完美的孩子。
在一个景象中，一顿丰盛的早餐的餐桌旁，
坐着一对心平气和的父母，领着他们心满意足的儿子们。
在一个景象中，三三两两的年轻人，
成百上千的朝着同一个方向，走在小道、街道和大路上，
走向那有着高高拱顶的学校。
在一个景象中，有一个美丽的三人组合，
祖母、可爱的女儿、那可爱的女儿的女儿，坐在那里，
边聊天边做着缝纫。
在一个景象中，在由装饰高贵的房间组成的整个套间里，
在大量的书籍、杂志，墙上的图画，精致的小雕像中间，
友善的出了师的工匠们和年老年少的机械师们一群群地在那里，
阅读、交谈。
所有的，所有的由劳动生活展示的场景，
从城市到乡村，女人们的、男人们的和孩子们的，
他们那得到了满足的需求，在日光下染上了色彩并终于被快乐点染，
婚嫁、街道、工厂、农场、大房子里的房间、租住的房间，
劳动和报酬、浴室、体育馆、游乐场所、图书馆、学院，
学生，男孩和女孩，被领进去受教育，
病人得到了照料，没有鞋的人穿上了鞋子，孤儿得到了父爱和母爱，
饥饿的人得到了食物，沒有房子的得到了房子，
（这些愿望无可指责，并且神圣，
这些工作，这些细碎，恰恰构成了人。）
OUTLINES FOR A TOMB (G. P., BURIED 1870)
2
Silent, my soul,
With drooping lids, as waiting, ponder’d,
Turning from all the samples, monuments of heroes.
While through the interior vistas,
Noiseless uprose, phantasmic, (as by night Auroras of the north,)
Lambent tableaus, prophetic, bodiless scenes,
Spiritual projections.
In one, among the city streets a laborer’s home appear’d,
After his day’s work done, cleanly, sweet-air’d, the gaslight burning,
The carpet swept and a fire in the cheerful stove.
In one, the sacred parturition scene,
A happy painless mother birth’d a perfect child.
In one, at a bounteous morning meal,
Sat peaceful parents with contented sons.
In one, by twos and threes, young people,
Hundreds concentring, walk’d the paths and streets and roads,
Toward a tall-domed school.
In one a trio beautiful,
Grandmother, loving daughter, loving daughter’s daughter, sat,
Chatting and sewing.
In one, along a suite of noble rooms,
‘Mid plenteous books and journals, paintings on the walls, fine statuettes,
Were groups of friendly journeymen, mechanics young and old,
Reading, conversing.
All, all the shows of laboring life,
City and country, women’s, men’s and children’s,
Their wants provided for, hued in the sun and tinged for once with joy,
Marriage, the street, the factory, farm, the house-room, lodging-room,
Labor and toll, the bath, gymnasium, playground, library, college,
The student, boy or girl, led forward to be taught,
The sick cared for, the shoeless shod, the orphan father’d and mother’d,
The hungry fed, the houseless housed;
(The intentions perfect and divine,
The workings, details, haply human.)
一座坟墓的墓志铭（G. P.，葬于1870年）
3
哦，这座坟墓之中的你呀，
你制造了这些场景，你是毫不吝啬的、慷慨大方的供给者，
把大地的馈赠收集起来，像大地一样广大，
你的名字就是一个地球，上面有高山、田野和浪涛。
并不能只在你们的水流里，你们这些河流，
也不能只在你那里，只在你的堤岸，康涅狄格，
不能只在你以及你整个熙熙攘攘的生活中，老泰晤士，
和你，冲刷着华盛顿曾经踩踏过的地面的波托马克，也不能只在你那里，帕塔普斯科，
以及你，哈德逊，还有你，无尽的密西西比——并不能仅仅在你们那里，
更要到那辽远的海上，去放飞，我的思想，放飞对他的怀念。
OUTLINES FOR A TOMB (G. P., BURIED 1870)
3
O thou within this tomb,
From thee such scenes, thou stintless, lavish giver,
Tallying the gifts of earth, large as the earth,
Thy name an earth, with mountains, fields and tides.
Nor by your streams alone, you rivers,
By you, your banks Connecticut,
By you and all your teeming life old Thames,
By you Potomac laving the ground Washington trod, by you Patapsco,
You Hudson, you endless Mississippi—nor you alone,
But to the high seas launch, my thought, his memory.
3
哦，这座坟墓之中的你呀，
你制造了这些场景，你是毫不吝啬的、慷慨大方的供给者，
把大地的馈赠收集起来，像大地一样广大，
你的名字就是一个地球，上面有高山、田野和浪涛。
并不能只在你们的水流里，你们这些河流，
也不能只在你那里，只在你的堤岸，康涅狄格，
不能只在你以及你整个熙熙攘攘的生活中，老泰晤士，
和你，冲刷着华盛顿曾经踩踏过的地面的波托马克，也不能只在你那里，帕塔普斯科，
以及你，哈德逊，还有你，无尽的密西西比——并不能仅仅在你们那里，
更要到那辽远的海上，去放飞，我的思想，放飞对他的怀念。
OUTLINES FOR A TOMB (G. P., BURIED 1870)
3
O thou within this tomb,
From thee such scenes, thou stintless, lavish giver,
Tallying the gifts of earth, large as the earth,
Thy name an earth, with mountains, fields and tides.
Nor by your streams alone, you rivers,
By you, your banks Connecticut,
By you and all your teeming life old Thames,
By you Potomac laving the ground Washington trod, by you Patapsco,
You Hudson, you endless Mississippi—nor you alone,
But to the high seas launch, my thought, his memory.
从这张面具的后面生发出（面对一副肖像）
1
从这张弯弯曲曲粗雕糙刻的面具的后面生发出，
这些光和影，这场有头有尾的戏剧，
这块垂挂在脸上的普通的帘布，因为我而挂在我的脸上，因为你而挂在你的脸上，因为每一个人而挂在每一个人脸上，
（悲剧、哀伤、欢笑、眼泪——哦，天哪！
躲在这块帘布之后充满激情争相上演的各种表演！）
这片涂在上帝那最为安详最为纯洁的天空上的釉彩，
这片覆盖在撒旦那翻滚沸腾的深渊上的覆膜，
这是一幅心灵的地理图，这是一块窄小却没有边际的大陆，这是一片无声无息的大海；
从这个球体的复杂的卷曲中，
这是比太阳或者月亮，比木星、金星、火星还要微妙难测的星体，
这里浓缩凝聚了宇宙，（不，这里不仅仅有宇宙，
这里还有思想，一切都包裹于这神秘的小小一块之中;）
这双錾凿出来的双眼，朝你忽闪着并由此而通往未来时光，
它们向不停地四下转动，投射进空间并在其中急旋猛转，在这些急旋猛转中发散出，
投向你，任何一个你，的——一道目光。
OUT FROM BEHIND THIS MASK (TO CONFRONT A PORTRAIT)
1
Out from behind this bending rough-cut mask,
These lights and shades, this drama of the whole,
This common curtain of the face contain’d in me for me, in you for you, in each for each,
(Tragedies, sorrows, laughter, tears—0 heaven!
The passionate teeming plays this curtain hid!)
This glaze of God’s serenest purest sky,
This film of Satan’s seething pit,
This heart’s geography’s map, this limitless small continent, this soundless sea;
Out from the convolutions of this globe,
This subtler astronomic orb than sun or moon, than Jupiter, Venus, Mars,
This condensation of the universe, (nay here the only universe,
Here the idea, all in this mystic handful wrapt;)
These burin’d eyes, flashing to you to pass to future time,
To launch and spin through space revolving sideling, from these to emanate,
To you whoe’er you are—a look.
1
从这张弯弯曲曲粗雕糙刻的面具的后面生发出，
这些光和影，这场有头有尾的戏剧，
这块垂挂在脸上的普通的帘布，因为我而挂在我的脸上，因为你而挂在你的脸上，因为每一个人而挂在每一个人脸上，
（悲剧、哀伤、欢笑、眼泪——哦，天哪！
躲在这块帘布之后充满激情争相上演的各种表演！）
这片涂在上帝那最为安详最为纯洁的天空上的釉彩，
这片覆盖在撒旦那翻滚沸腾的深渊上的覆膜，
这是一幅心灵的地理图，这是一块窄小却没有边际的大陆，这是一片无声无息的大海；
从这个球体的复杂的卷曲中，
这是比太阳或者月亮，比木星、金星、火星还要微妙难测的星体，
这里浓缩凝聚了宇宙，（不，这里不仅仅有宇宙，
这里还有思想，一切都包裹于这神秘的小小一块之中;）
这双錾凿出来的双眼，朝你忽闪着并由此而通往未来时光，
它们向不停地四下转动，投射进空间并在其中急旋猛转，在这些急旋猛转中发散出，
投向你，任何一个你，的——一道目光。
OUT FROM BEHIND THIS MASK (TO CONFRONT A PORTRAIT)
1
Out from behind this bending rough-cut mask,
These lights and shades, this drama of the whole,
This common curtain of the face contain’d in me for me, in you for you, in each for each,
(Tragedies, sorrows, laughter, tears—0 heaven!
The passionate teeming plays this curtain hid!)
This glaze of God’s serenest purest sky,
This film of Satan’s seething pit,
This heart’s geography’s map, this limitless small continent, this soundless sea;
Out from the convolutions of this globe,
This subtler astronomic orb than sun or moon, than Jupiter, Venus, Mars,
This condensation of the universe, (nay here the only universe,
Here the idea, all in this mystic handful wrapt;)
These burin’d eyes, flashing to you to pass to future time,
To launch and spin through space revolving sideling, from these to emanate,
To you whoe’er you are—a look.
从这张面具的后面生发出（面对一副肖像）
2
一个思想和岁月的旅行者，战争与和平的旅行者，
青春早已飞逝，中年逐渐衰弱，
（像故事的第一卷被仔细读过并放在一边后，这第二卷，
歌唱、冒险、投机，眼下也要结束了，）
此时我要在这里逗留一小会，转向对面的你，
如同在路上，或者在某扇碰巧露着一条缝的门或打开的窗户前，
暂时停步，我脱下帽子，低下头，向你表达我特别的致意，
把你的灵魂吸引并且抓住，让它从此与我的灵魂不再分离，
然后回到我的行程，继续旅行。
OUT FROM BEHIND THIS MASK (TO CONFRONT A PORTRAIT)
2
A traveler of thoughts and years, of peace and war,
Of youth long sped and middle age declining,
(As the first volume of a tale perused and laid away, and this the second,
Songs, ventures, speculations, presently to close,)
Lingering a moment here and now, to you I opposite turn,
As on the road or at some crevice door by chance, or open’d window,
Pausing, inclining, baring my head, you specially I greet,
To draw and clinch your soul for once inseparably with mine,
Then travel travel on.
2
一个思想和岁月的旅行者，战争与和平的旅行者，
青春早已飞逝，中年逐渐衰弱，
（像故事的第一卷被仔细读过并放在一边后，这第二卷，
歌唱、冒险、投机，眼下也要结束了，）
此时我要在这里逗留一小会，转向对面的你，
如同在路上，或者在某扇碰巧露着一条缝的门或打开的窗户前，
暂时停步，我脱下帽子，低下头，向你表达我特别的致意，
把你的灵魂吸引并且抓住，让它从此与我的灵魂不再分离，
然后回到我的行程，继续旅行。
OUT FROM BEHIND THIS MASK (TO CONFRONT A PORTRAIT)
2
A traveler of thoughts and years, of peace and war,
Of youth long sped and middle age declining,
(As the first volume of a tale perused and laid away, and this the second,
Songs, ventures, speculations, presently to close,)
Lingering a moment here and now, to you I opposite turn,
As on the road or at some crevice door by chance, or open’d window,
Pausing, inclining, baring my head, you specially I greet,
To draw and clinch your soul for once inseparably with mine,
Then travel travel on.
发音的艺术
1
发音的艺术，均衡、浓缩、坚决，用声音表达词汇的一种神圣能力；
你是经过了长期的训练才变得肺活量充足唇齿敏捷的吗？还是由于练习时的激情投入？还是由于你的体格？
你是移居到了这些和它们同样宽阔的土地上了吗？
还是由于瓜熟蒂落而获得这种用声音表达词汇的神奇能力？
因为只有最终在经过了许多年月，经过了忠贞、友谊、繁衍、谨慎，以及赤袒相裎之后，
在足踏过大地以及在河流与湖泊中劈波斩浪之后，
在放开了喉咙之后，在吸收了时代、品格、种族以后，在经历了知识、自由、罪恶之后，
在建立起信仰之后，在经历了澄清、提高和移除障碍之后，
在这些及更多的一些之后，才仅仅有可能在一个男人，或者一个女人身上，出现这种用声音表达词汇的神圣能力；
然后一切都迅捷地加快速度向这个男人或这个女人奔来——一个都不缺席，每一个都出席，
军队、船只、文物、图书馆、图画、机器、城市、仇恨、绝望、友好、痛苦、偷窃、谋杀、抱负，都排成了紧密的行列，
当它们受到招唤，遵照命令穿过这个男人或者这个女人的口腔行进的时候，它们就冲口而出了。
VOCALISM
1
Vocalism, measure, concentration, determination, and the divine power to speak words;
Are you full-lung’d and limber-lipp’d from long trial? from vigorous practice? from physique?
Do you move in these broad lands as broad as they?
Come duly to the divine power to speak words?
For only at last after many years, after chastity, friendship, procreation, prudence, and nakedness,
After treading ground and breasting river and lake,
After a loosen’d throat, after absorbing eras, temperaments, races, after knowledge, freedom, crimes,
After complete faith, after clarifyings, elevations, and removing obstructions,
After these and more, it is just possible there comes to a man, woman, the divine power to speak words;
Then toward that man or that woman swiftly hasten all—none refuse, all attend,
Armies, ships, antiquities, libraries, paintings, machines, cities, hate, despair, amity, pain, theft, murder, aspiration, form in close ranks,
They debouch as they are wanted to march obediently through the mouth of that man or that woman.
1
发音的艺术，均衡、浓缩、坚决，用声音表达词汇的一种神圣能力；
你是经过了长期的训练才变得肺活量充足唇齿敏捷的吗？还是由于练习时的激情投入？还是由于你的体格？
你是移居到了这些和它们同样宽阔的土地上了吗？
还是由于瓜熟蒂落而获得这种用声音表达词汇的神奇能力？
因为只有最终在经过了许多年月，经过了忠贞、友谊、繁衍、谨慎，以及赤袒相裎之后，
在足踏过大地以及在河流与湖泊中劈波斩浪之后，
在放开了喉咙之后，在吸收了时代、品格、种族以后，在经历了知识、自由、罪恶之后，
在建立起信仰之后，在经历了澄清、提高和移除障碍之后，
在这些及更多的一些之后，才仅仅有可能在一个男人，或者一个女人身上，出现这种用声音表达词汇的神圣能力；
然后一切都迅捷地加快速度向这个男人或这个女人奔来——一个都不缺席，每一个都出席，
军队、船只、文物、图书馆、图画、机器、城市、仇恨、绝望、友好、痛苦、偷窃、谋杀、抱负，都排成了紧密的行列，
当它们受到招唤，遵照命令穿过这个男人或者这个女人的口腔行进的时候，它们就冲口而出了。
VOCALISM
1
Vocalism, measure, concentration, determination, and the divine power to speak words;
Are you full-lung’d and limber-lipp’d from long trial? from vigorous practice? from physique?
Do you move in these broad lands as broad as they?
Come duly to the divine power to speak words?
For only at last after many years, after chastity, friendship, procreation, prudence, and nakedness,
After treading ground and breasting river and lake,
After a loosen’d throat, after absorbing eras, temperaments, races, after knowledge, freedom, crimes,
After complete faith, after clarifyings, elevations, and removing obstructions,
After these and more, it is just possible there comes to a man, woman, the divine power to speak words;
Then toward that man or that woman swiftly hasten all—none refuse, all attend,
Armies, ships, antiquities, libraries, paintings, machines, cities, hate, despair, amity, pain, theft, murder, aspiration, form in close ranks,
They debouch as they are wanted to march obediently through the mouth of that man or that woman.
发音的艺术
2
哦，在我的身体里有什么东西，让我在听到人的声音时会如此地震颤？
千真万确啊，只要有人用正确的声音同我说话，他或者她就是我跟从的对象，
如同水跟从月亮，默默地，踏着流动的步点，从地球的任何一个地方。
一切都期待那些正确的声音；
哪里能找到那经过练习的和完美的器官？哪里能找到那发育了的灵魂？
因为我觉得从那里吐出的每一个单词才具有那更为深沉、更为甜蜜的新的发音，低于这样的条件这一切便不可能了。
我觉得大脑和嘴唇是封闭的，鼓膜和颞颥也感受不到刺激，
除非具有那种能力的东西到来，它将产生刺激解除封闭，
除非具有那种能力的东西到来，它将让那个沉睡未醒却永远在每一个词汇里做好了准备的东西降生。
VOCALISM
2
O what is it in me that makes me tremble so at voices?
Surely whoever speaks to me in the right voice, him or her I shall follow,
As the water follows the moon, silently, with fluid steps, anywhere around the globe.
All waits for the right voices;
Where is the practis’d and perfect organ? where is the develop’d soul?
For I see every word utter’d thence has deeper, sweeter, new sounds, impossible on less terms.
I see brains and lips closed, tympans and temples unstruck, Until that comes which has the quality to strike and to unclose,
Until that comes which has the quality to bring forth what lies slumbering forever ready in all words.
2
哦，在我的身体里有什么东西，让我在听到人的声音时会如此地震颤？
千真万确啊，只要有人用正确的声音同我说话，他或者她就是我跟从的对象，
如同水跟从月亮，默默地，踏着流动的步点，从地球的任何一个地方。
一切都期待那些正确的声音；
哪里能找到那经过练习的和完美的器官？哪里能找到那发育了的灵魂？
因为我觉得从那里吐出的每一个单词才具有那更为深沉、更为甜蜜的新的发音，低于这样的条件这一切便不可能了。
我觉得大脑和嘴唇是封闭的，鼓膜和颞颥也感受不到刺激，
除非具有那种能力的东西到来，它将产生刺激解除封闭，
除非具有那种能力的东西到来，它将让那个沉睡未醒却永远在每一个词汇里做好了准备的东西降生。
VOCALISM
2
O what is it in me that makes me tremble so at voices?
Surely whoever speaks to me in the right voice, him or her I shall follow,
As the water follows the moon, silently, with fluid steps, anywhere around the globe.
All waits for the right voices;
Where is the practis’d and perfect organ? where is the develop’d soul?
For I see every word utter’d thence has deeper, sweeter, new sounds, impossible on less terms.
I see brains and lips closed, tympans and temples unstruck, Until that comes which has the quality to strike and to unclose,
Until that comes which has the quality to bring forth what lies slumbering forever ready in all words.
致被钉在十字架上的那个人
这是我的灵魂对你的灵魂致辞，亲爱的兄弟，
不要为许多人祝祷你的名字却不懂得你而担忧，
我不祝祷你的名字，但我懂得你，
我满怀欣喜来为你做出说明，哦，我的同志，以此来表达对你的致敬，也对那些与你在一起的人表示致敬，在你之前，自你之后，还有那些将要到来的，
这样我们都一起付出辛劳，传递同一个的重担，继承同一个传承，
不论在哪个国家，不论在哪个时代，我们这类人都是极少的少数，
我们，是所有大陆，所有种姓的包容者，所有宗教信仰的容忍者，
是人的同情者，人的理解者，人与人和睦相处的建设者，
我们默默地行走在争议和各种主张中，但不拒绝争辩者，也不拒绝任何一种主张，
我们倾听咆哮和吵闹，分歧、嫉妒、指责从每一个方面施加于我们，
它们专横地逼近我们，包围我们，我的同志啊，
但我们不为所制地、自由地走遍整个地球，在旅程中徘徊往返，直到我们在时间里，在每一个时代里留下不可抹去的痕迹，
直到我们渗透了时间和每一个时代，让未来世纪里的每个种族的男人和女人，能够像我们这样成为兄弟和爱侣。
TO HIM THAT WAS CRUCIFIED
My spirit to yours dear brother,
Do not mind because many sounding your name do not understand you,
I do not sound your name, but I understand you,
I specify you with joy O my comrade to salute you, and to salute those who are with you, before and since, and those to come also,
That we all labor together transmitting the same charge and succession,
We few equals indifferent of lands, indifferent of times,
We, enclosers of all continents, all castes, allowers of all theologies,
Compassionaters, perceivers, rapport of men,
We walk silent among disputes and assertions, but reject not the disputers nor any thing that is asserted,
We hear the bawling and din, we are reach’d at by divisions, jealousies, recriminations on every side,
They close peremptorily upon us to surround us, my comrade,
Yet we walk unheld, free, the whole earth over, journeying up and down till we make our ineffaceable mark upon time and the diverse eras,
Till we saturate time and eras, that the men and women of races, ages to come, may prove brethren and lovers as we are.
这是我的灵魂对你的灵魂致辞，亲爱的兄弟，
不要为许多人祝祷你的名字却不懂得你而担忧，
我不祝祷你的名字，但我懂得你，
我满怀欣喜来为你做出说明，哦，我的同志，以此来表达对你的致敬，也对那些与你在一起的人表示致敬，在你之前，自你之后，还有那些将要到来的，
这样我们都一起付出辛劳，传递同一个的重担，继承同一个传承，
不论在哪个国家，不论在哪个时代，我们这类人都是极少的少数，
我们，是所有大陆，所有种姓的包容者，所有宗教信仰的容忍者，
是人的同情者，人的理解者，人与人和睦相处的建设者，
我们默默地行走在争议和各种主张中，但不拒绝争辩者，也不拒绝任何一种主张，
我们倾听咆哮和吵闹，分歧、嫉妒、指责从每一个方面施加于我们，
它们专横地逼近我们，包围我们，我的同志啊，
但我们不为所制地、自由地走遍整个地球，在旅程中徘徊往返，直到我们在时间里，在每一个时代里留下不可抹去的痕迹，
直到我们渗透了时间和每一个时代，让未来世纪里的每个种族的男人和女人，能够像我们这样成为兄弟和爱侣。
TO HIM THAT WAS CRUCIFIED
My spirit to yours dear brother,
Do not mind because many sounding your name do not understand you,
I do not sound your name, but I understand you,
I specify you with joy O my comrade to salute you, and to salute those who are with you, before and since, and those to come also,
That we all labor together transmitting the same charge and succession,
We few equals indifferent of lands, indifferent of times,
We, enclosers of all continents, all castes, allowers of all theologies,
Compassionaters, perceivers, rapport of men,
We walk silent among disputes and assertions, but reject not the disputers nor any thing that is asserted,
We hear the bawling and din, we are reach’d at by divisions, jealousies, recriminations on every side,
They close peremptorily upon us to surround us, my comrade,
Yet we walk unheld, free, the whole earth over, journeying up and down till we make our ineffaceable mark upon time and the diverse eras,
Till we saturate time and eras, that the men and women of races, ages to come, may prove brethren and lovers as we are.