喜欢惠特曼的诗，翻了自娱，晒晒。
歌唱自我
3
我听见了清谈家的议论，探讨着
什么是始什么是终，
但我不谈论始也不谈论终。
因为与以往的任何时候相比，现在才更像是一个起点，
与以往的任何时候相比，现在更为年青也更为年老，
但与将来的任何时候相比啊，现在又更像是一个完美的顶点，
与将来的任何时候相比，现在更像天堂也更像地狱。
强烈的冲动，强烈的冲动，仍然是这强烈的冲动，
到处是来自这世界的生殖的强烈冲动。
从朦胧中走出来，同等而又相对的他们啊，走上前来，
充满了物质的冲动增殖的冲动，充满了性的冲动，
永远是编织在一起的共性，永远是各有区别的特性，永远
是生命的一种型态。
没必要再精心阐释，因为无论你博学还是无知，你必定感到事实就是如此。
但我肯定啊，最百分之百地肯定啊，那笔直地向上挺立着，
像木制构件一样互相钩紧，牢牢地咬合在梁柱之上，
像马一样壮硕，但也柔情切切，可又目中无人，同时又有电流一般的热情，
像这样站在这儿的，那是我们，是我和这神秘之物。
我的灵魂清洁而甜美，但是我灵魂之外的部分
也一样清洁而甜美，
两者缺一啊，则两者俱失，因为无形的那部分啊，只有通过有形的这部分才能得到检验，
而一旦有形的这部分转变成了无形的那部分啊，那时又该轮到它来经受检验。
一代又一代的人痛苦着，思考如何把最美好的事物展示出来，并让它与最丑恶的事物分开，
但我却知道，这些东西是完美而平静地彼此结合在一起的啊，所以
当他们讨论着这个问题时我沉默着，我走去沐浴，去欣赏我自己。
每一件器官和每一种特质我都热情地接纳，无论是我的，还其他任何一位
健康而纯洁的人的，
因为在它们身上啊，找不到一寸一厘的卑鄙邪恶，而且每一个啊
都应当被同样地熟悉和了解。
我已经满足----
我看，我舞，我笑，我歌，
紧抱着我的那位亲爱的同床伙伴呀，
他通夜睡在我的身旁，在天光微现时
抽身退去，步履悄悄，
给我留下许多装在篮子里的礼物，用白色毛巾覆盖，
这礼物是如此之多啊，这房屋都难以容下，
难道此刻我不应当立即接受立即感悟，却要
尖声呵斥我的双眼，
不让它们沿着那条道路的上下凝视张望，
而要它们立即为我推算，分毫不差地推算，
这一件的精确价码，那一件的准确估值，
还有哪一个要放在最前？
Song of Myself
3
I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
Urge and urge and urge,
Always the procreant urge of the world.
Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex,
Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life.
To elaborate is no avail, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so. Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well
entretied, braced in the beams,
Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical, I and this mystery here we stand.
Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.
Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age, Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while
they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself.
Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean,
Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest.
I am satisfied —— I see, dance, laugh, sing;
As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread,
Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty,
Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes,
That they turn from gazing after and down the road, And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent,
Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead?
3
我听见了清谈家的议论，探讨着
什么是始什么是终，
但我不谈论始也不谈论终。
因为与以往的任何时候相比，现在才更像是一个起点，
与以往的任何时候相比，现在更为年青也更为年老，
但与将来的任何时候相比啊，现在又更像是一个完美的顶点，
与将来的任何时候相比，现在更像天堂也更像地狱。
强烈的冲动，强烈的冲动，仍然是这强烈的冲动，
到处是来自这世界的生殖的强烈冲动。
从朦胧中走出来，同等而又相对的他们啊，走上前来，
充满了物质的冲动增殖的冲动，充满了性的冲动，
永远是编织在一起的共性，永远是各有区别的特性，永远
是生命的一种型态。
没必要再精心阐释，因为无论你博学还是无知，你必定感到事实就是如此。
但我肯定啊，最百分之百地肯定啊，那笔直地向上挺立着，
像木制构件一样互相钩紧，牢牢地咬合在梁柱之上，
像马一样壮硕，但也柔情切切，可又目中无人，同时又有电流一般的热情，
像这样站在这儿的，那是我们，是我和这神秘之物。
我的灵魂清洁而甜美，但是我灵魂之外的部分
也一样清洁而甜美，
两者缺一啊，则两者俱失，因为无形的那部分啊，只有通过有形的这部分才能得到检验，
而一旦有形的这部分转变成了无形的那部分啊，那时又该轮到它来经受检验。
一代又一代的人痛苦着，思考如何把最美好的事物展示出来，并让它与最丑恶的事物分开，
但我却知道，这些东西是完美而平静地彼此结合在一起的啊，所以
当他们讨论着这个问题时我沉默着，我走去沐浴，去欣赏我自己。
每一件器官和每一种特质我都热情地接纳，无论是我的，还其他任何一位
健康而纯洁的人的，
因为在它们身上啊，找不到一寸一厘的卑鄙邪恶，而且每一个啊
都应当被同样地熟悉和了解。
我已经满足----
我看，我舞，我笑，我歌，
紧抱着我的那位亲爱的同床伙伴呀，
他通夜睡在我的身旁，在天光微现时
抽身退去，步履悄悄，
给我留下许多装在篮子里的礼物，用白色毛巾覆盖，
这礼物是如此之多啊，这房屋都难以容下，
难道此刻我不应当立即接受立即感悟，却要
尖声呵斥我的双眼，
不让它们沿着那条道路的上下凝视张望，
而要它们立即为我推算，分毫不差地推算，
这一件的精确价码，那一件的准确估值，
还有哪一个要放在最前？
Song of Myself
3
I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
Urge and urge and urge,
Always the procreant urge of the world.
Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex,
Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life.
To elaborate is no avail, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so. Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well
entretied, braced in the beams,
Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical, I and this mystery here we stand.
Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.
Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age, Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while
they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself.
Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean,
Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest.
I am satisfied —— I see, dance, laugh, sing;
As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread,
Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty,
Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes,
That they turn from gazing after and down the road, And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent,
Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead?
@良子天地 2015-07-21 23:01:47
我喜欢他的[忘川]
-----------------------------
忘川是指哪一首？
我喜欢他的[忘川]
-----------------------------
忘川是指哪一首？
歌唱自我
4
旅行中的观光客人和提着问题的人围绕在我的身边，
我遇见的那些人，我的早年生活，还有我居住的选区和城市，
以及我的国家留给我的印迹，
最近的几次约会，发现，发明，社会团体，新老
作家，
我的主餐，服饰，社交，相貌，对人的恭维，所尽的义务，
我爱着的一些男人或女人对我表现冷漠，无论是真的还是
我臆想的，
我的家人或者我自己有了病痛，或是行为不当，
或是破财了，缺钱了，抑郁了，得意了，
战斗，手足相残的战争的恐怖，传闻引起的
狂热，不时出现的大事要闻，
这些东西啊，每日每夜都与我腆面相迎，而后又离我而去，
但是它们都不是属于我自己的“我”，
真正的我啊，离开这些纷纷扰扰站立着，
我站着，被逗笑了，沾沾自喜，充满怜悯，无所事事，
自成一体，
我目光下垂，我笔直挺立，或者弯起一只胳膊，把它靠在
一个无形却又确实存在的支架上，
我歪着头好奇地看着，看着下面将要发生的是什么，
我既置身于这场游戏之中，又置身这场游戏之外，观察着
并为这场游戏惊叹。
向回望去，我看见了我自己的那些日子，那些我与语言学家和雄辩高才们
在迷雾中挥汗穿越的日子，
我既不会嘲讽也给不出论据，我只会见证和等待。
Song of Myself
4
Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues, The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I
love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again, But they are not the Me myself.
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle,
unitary,
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest,
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering
at it.
Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders,
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.
4
旅行中的观光客人和提着问题的人围绕在我的身边，
我遇见的那些人，我的早年生活，还有我居住的选区和城市，
以及我的国家留给我的印迹，
最近的几次约会，发现，发明，社会团体，新老
作家，
我的主餐，服饰，社交，相貌，对人的恭维，所尽的义务，
我爱着的一些男人或女人对我表现冷漠，无论是真的还是
我臆想的，
我的家人或者我自己有了病痛，或是行为不当，
或是破财了，缺钱了，抑郁了，得意了，
战斗，手足相残的战争的恐怖，传闻引起的
狂热，不时出现的大事要闻，
这些东西啊，每日每夜都与我腆面相迎，而后又离我而去，
但是它们都不是属于我自己的“我”，
真正的我啊，离开这些纷纷扰扰站立着，
我站着，被逗笑了，沾沾自喜，充满怜悯，无所事事，
自成一体，
我目光下垂，我笔直挺立，或者弯起一只胳膊，把它靠在
一个无形却又确实存在的支架上，
我歪着头好奇地看着，看着下面将要发生的是什么，
我既置身于这场游戏之中，又置身这场游戏之外，观察着
并为这场游戏惊叹。
向回望去，我看见了我自己的那些日子，那些我与语言学家和雄辩高才们
在迷雾中挥汗穿越的日子，
我既不会嘲讽也给不出论据，我只会见证和等待。
Song of Myself
4
Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues, The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I
love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again, But they are not the Me myself.
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle,
unitary,
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest,
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering
at it.
Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders,
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.
歌唱自我
5
我的灵魂啊，我坚信你的价值，但另外还有一个我啊，决不会
让自己向你俯首屈膝，
而你也不决不可向这另外的一个我屈膝俯首。
请与我一起闲游于这片青草，放开你堵塞的喉头，
但我不想听见用词语，音乐或韵律组成的声音，也不想听那些家常闲谈或严肃的议论，
哪怕它们美妙无比，
我唯独欢喜的是那宁神的安抚，和你压低声音的轻哼。
我记住的是我们曾经那样地躺在一个如此清亮的
夏日早晨，
你是怎样地把你的头横枕在我的臀部，然后温柔轻缓地
在我的身上转过身子，
你是怎样地解开我胸前的衬衣，又是怎样地用舌尖
舔着我赤裸在外的心房，
你伸开了你的手掌，直到你触摸到了我的胡须，你伸开了你的手掌啊，直到
你把我的双脚抱住。
安宁与智识，猛然地升腾，笼罩在我的周围，
超越了这世界上所有的解说和阐释，
于是我知道上帝之手啊，就是我自己的
期许，
于是我知道上帝之灵啊，就是我自己的兄弟，
所有的从古到今曾经出生过的男人啊，都是我的兄弟，而那些
女人们啊，则是我的姐妹和爱人，
我知道爱是一条龙骨，支撑起宇宙的万物，
我知道那数也数不清叶子，将僵硬枯萎，垂落在田野之上，
我知道叶片下面那些细小孔洞里褐色的蚂蚁，
我知道弯曲的围栏上苔藓的瘢痕，堆在一起的石头，还有接骨木，
毛蕊花和美洲商陆草。
Song of Myself
5
I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you,
And you must not be abased to the other.
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture,
not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,
How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart,
And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth,
And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own,
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the
women my sisters and lovers,
And that a kelson of the creation is love,
And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields, And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,
And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein and poke-weed.
5
我的灵魂啊，我坚信你的价值，但另外还有一个我啊，决不会
让自己向你俯首屈膝，
而你也不决不可向这另外的一个我屈膝俯首。
请与我一起闲游于这片青草，放开你堵塞的喉头，
但我不想听见用词语，音乐或韵律组成的声音，也不想听那些家常闲谈或严肃的议论，
哪怕它们美妙无比，
我唯独欢喜的是那宁神的安抚，和你压低声音的轻哼。
我记住的是我们曾经那样地躺在一个如此清亮的
夏日早晨，
你是怎样地把你的头横枕在我的臀部，然后温柔轻缓地
在我的身上转过身子，
你是怎样地解开我胸前的衬衣，又是怎样地用舌尖
舔着我赤裸在外的心房，
你伸开了你的手掌，直到你触摸到了我的胡须，你伸开了你的手掌啊，直到
你把我的双脚抱住。
安宁与智识，猛然地升腾，笼罩在我的周围，
超越了这世界上所有的解说和阐释，
于是我知道上帝之手啊，就是我自己的
期许，
于是我知道上帝之灵啊，就是我自己的兄弟，
所有的从古到今曾经出生过的男人啊，都是我的兄弟，而那些
女人们啊，则是我的姐妹和爱人，
我知道爱是一条龙骨，支撑起宇宙的万物，
我知道那数也数不清叶子，将僵硬枯萎，垂落在田野之上，
我知道叶片下面那些细小孔洞里褐色的蚂蚁，
我知道弯曲的围栏上苔藓的瘢痕，堆在一起的石头，还有接骨木，
毛蕊花和美洲商陆草。
Song of Myself
5
I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you,
And you must not be abased to the other.
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture,
not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,
How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart,
And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth,
And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own,
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the
women my sisters and lovers,
And that a kelson of the creation is love,
And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields, And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,
And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein and poke-weed.
歌唱自我
6
一个孩子说这是什么草呀？说着用双手捧起了它
交给我，
可我能用什么回答这个孩子？对于这种草
我并不比他知道得更多。
我想它应该是代表我性格的一面旗帜，用
充满希望的绿色材料编织。
我又想它应该是上帝的一块手帕，
是一件有意丢下的喷香的礼物和纪念品，
在每个角上用某种方式留下了主人的名字，让我们
能够看到并发表见解，而且要问这是谁的？
我又想这草它自己或许就是一个孩子，是按草木的生长过程
所孕育的幼婴。
我也猜想它是用一种统一的象形文字，
它表示的是，无论是在宽敞的地域还是在局促的地带
它们都发出一样的嫩芽，
无论是在黑人伙计们之中还是在白人兄弟之中，它们都同样生长，
凯纳克人，特卡荷人，国会议员和柯甫人啊，给予他们啊，
我用的是同样文字，接待他们啊，我用的也是同样的文字。
而现在对我而言，它又像是坟墓上不曾修剪的美丽的头发。
我要温柔体贴地使用你，卷曲的草啊，
因为你也许生自那些年轻人的胸膛，那些年轻人啊，
如果我能够认识他们，也许我已经爱上了他们，
你也许来自那些年老的人们，又或许来自那些
刚出生就从母亲的膝上抱走了的幼儿，
而现在你就成了那母亲们的双膝。
这草的颜色是如此之深，它不会来自
那些老迈母亲的白头，
它也要深过那些老迈男人的失去了颜色的胡须，
可是它的深浅啊，说明它生长在口腔的粉红色屋顶之下。
哦，我终于认出了啊，这是这么多的正在发出声音的舌头，
我也明白了它们之所以要生长在口腔的屋顶之下，
的确有它们的理由。
我希望我能诠释有关那些死去的
年轻的男人和女人的隐喻，
还有有关那些老人和母亲的，以及那些
立即从他们的膝上抱走的幼儿的隐喻。
你说那些年轻人和老人变成了什么？
你再说说那些女人和孩子
变成了什么？
他们还活着，并且活得很好，在某一个地方，
那颗最小的嫩芽就说明了实际上死亡是不存在的。
就算即便死亡存在，死亡也只是生命的先导，死亡并不会等候
在生命的终点去攫取生命，
一旦生命出现啊，死亡便立即消逝。
万物都在不断不断地前进，它们不会衰退崩溃，
死亡与所有人设想的都不一样，
它比人们所想的要更加幸运。。
Song of Myself
6
A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands,
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we
may see and remark, and say Whose?
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the
vegetation.
Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.
And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.
This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colourless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.
O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.
I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.
What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and
children?
They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
6
一个孩子说这是什么草呀？说着用双手捧起了它
交给我，
可我能用什么回答这个孩子？对于这种草
我并不比他知道得更多。
我想它应该是代表我性格的一面旗帜，用
充满希望的绿色材料编织。
我又想它应该是上帝的一块手帕，
是一件有意丢下的喷香的礼物和纪念品，
在每个角上用某种方式留下了主人的名字，让我们
能够看到并发表见解，而且要问这是谁的？
我又想这草它自己或许就是一个孩子，是按草木的生长过程
所孕育的幼婴。
我也猜想它是用一种统一的象形文字，
它表示的是，无论是在宽敞的地域还是在局促的地带
它们都发出一样的嫩芽，
无论是在黑人伙计们之中还是在白人兄弟之中，它们都同样生长，
凯纳克人，特卡荷人，国会议员和柯甫人啊，给予他们啊，
我用的是同样文字，接待他们啊，我用的也是同样的文字。
而现在对我而言，它又像是坟墓上不曾修剪的美丽的头发。
我要温柔体贴地使用你，卷曲的草啊，
因为你也许生自那些年轻人的胸膛，那些年轻人啊，
如果我能够认识他们，也许我已经爱上了他们，
你也许来自那些年老的人们，又或许来自那些
刚出生就从母亲的膝上抱走了的幼儿，
而现在你就成了那母亲们的双膝。
这草的颜色是如此之深，它不会来自
那些老迈母亲的白头，
它也要深过那些老迈男人的失去了颜色的胡须，
可是它的深浅啊，说明它生长在口腔的粉红色屋顶之下。
哦，我终于认出了啊，这是这么多的正在发出声音的舌头，
我也明白了它们之所以要生长在口腔的屋顶之下，
的确有它们的理由。
我希望我能诠释有关那些死去的
年轻的男人和女人的隐喻，
还有有关那些老人和母亲的，以及那些
立即从他们的膝上抱走的幼儿的隐喻。
你说那些年轻人和老人变成了什么？
你再说说那些女人和孩子
变成了什么？
他们还活着，并且活得很好，在某一个地方，
那颗最小的嫩芽就说明了实际上死亡是不存在的。
就算即便死亡存在，死亡也只是生命的先导，死亡并不会等候
在生命的终点去攫取生命，
一旦生命出现啊，死亡便立即消逝。
万物都在不断不断地前进，它们不会衰退崩溃，
死亡与所有人设想的都不一样，
它比人们所想的要更加幸运。。
Song of Myself
6
A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands,
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we
may see and remark, and say Whose?
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the
vegetation.
Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.
And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.
This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colourless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.
O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.
I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.
What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and
children?
They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
@鱼戏莲叶东复西 67楼 2014-02-26 21:54:36
俺也非常喜欢惠特曼的诗歌，对其那首“船长”一经接触就永生难忘！~
-----------------------------
@飘在风中的人 2014-02-26 22:28:22
把我翻的船长再贴一遍，顺便改正一下当中的一个误译，还有把Heart,heart, heart还是改成忠实于原文的心啊，心。。。
-----------------------------
@林水云风 2016-01-21 20:02:24
惠特曼的诗非常好，我译的不多，只译了十几首短诗，选一首著名的合飘兄。
O Captain! my Captain!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done，
The ship has weather’d every rack，the prize we sought is won，
The port is near，the bells I hear，the people all exulting，
While follow eyes the steady keel，the vessel grim and daring；
But O heart! heart! heart!
O t......
-----------------------------
多谢林兄捧场。喜欢译诗也是一种病，我们也算是病友了。新年快乐。
俺也非常喜欢惠特曼的诗歌，对其那首“船长”一经接触就永生难忘！~
-----------------------------
@飘在风中的人 2014-02-26 22:28:22
把我翻的船长再贴一遍，顺便改正一下当中的一个误译，还有把Heart,heart, heart还是改成忠实于原文的心啊，心。。。
-----------------------------
@林水云风 2016-01-21 20:02:24
惠特曼的诗非常好，我译的不多，只译了十几首短诗，选一首著名的合飘兄。
O Captain! my Captain!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done，
The ship has weather’d every rack，the prize we sought is won，
The port is near，the bells I hear，the people all exulting，
While follow eyes the steady keel，the vessel grim and daring；
But O heart! heart! heart!
O t......
-----------------------------
多谢林兄捧场。喜欢译诗也是一种病，我们也算是病友了。新年快乐。
歌唱自我
7
有没人认为出生是幸运的呢？
那我要急迫地告诉他或者她，死亡也恰恰一样地幸运，而
我懂得这一点。
我与将死的人一同经历死亡，与新生的婴儿一起经历
出生，我并非仅仅是容身于我靴帽之间的这一个我，
我仔细地观察了多种多样的事物，它们没有两个是一样的，
也没有一个是不好的，
大地美好，星星美好，附于它们之上的一切啊，
也都美好。
我并非仅是一具肉骨凡胎，也并非仅仅是附于这肉骨凡胎之上，
我是人的兄弟与同伴啊，这些人啊，每一个都与我自己
完全一样，既不朽永生而又复杂难测，
（他们不懂得人竟是如此的不朽啊，但我是懂的。）
每种东西都有自己独特的代表和象征，而代表我的就会是我的那些男人
和女人，
代表我的就会是那些人啊，他们曾经是小小男孩，他们爱着女人，
代表我的就会是这样的男人啊，他高傲，受到藐视便会感到
针刺般痛苦，
代表我的是可爱的甜心少女和终老闺中的未嫁处女，代表我的啊，是母亲
以及母亲们的母亲，
代表我的是那曾经微笑的嘴唇，也是那曾泪下涟涟的眼睛，
代表我的是孩子们啊，还有孩子们的父辈。
除去服饰吧！在我面前你并无罪恶，我不会对你日久生厌，也不会把你遗弃，
无论何时何地，平纹细布和方格花布都挡不住我穿透一切的目光，
而我会充满韧性地，贪婪地，不知疲倦地围绕着你，决不会
被你摆脱。
Song of Myself
7
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I
know it.
I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots,
And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good,
The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.
I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth,
I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself,
(They do not know how immortal, but I know.)
Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and female,
For me those that have been boys and that love women, For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be
slighted,
For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and the mothers of mothers,
For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears, For me children and the begetters of children.
Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded, I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no, And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot
be shaken away.
7
有没人认为出生是幸运的呢？
那我要急迫地告诉他或者她，死亡也恰恰一样地幸运，而
我懂得这一点。
我与将死的人一同经历死亡，与新生的婴儿一起经历
出生，我并非仅仅是容身于我靴帽之间的这一个我，
我仔细地观察了多种多样的事物，它们没有两个是一样的，
也没有一个是不好的，
大地美好，星星美好，附于它们之上的一切啊，
也都美好。
我并非仅是一具肉骨凡胎，也并非仅仅是附于这肉骨凡胎之上，
我是人的兄弟与同伴啊，这些人啊，每一个都与我自己
完全一样，既不朽永生而又复杂难测，
（他们不懂得人竟是如此的不朽啊，但我是懂的。）
每种东西都有自己独特的代表和象征，而代表我的就会是我的那些男人
和女人，
代表我的就会是那些人啊，他们曾经是小小男孩，他们爱着女人，
代表我的就会是这样的男人啊，他高傲，受到藐视便会感到
针刺般痛苦，
代表我的是可爱的甜心少女和终老闺中的未嫁处女，代表我的啊，是母亲
以及母亲们的母亲，
代表我的是那曾经微笑的嘴唇，也是那曾泪下涟涟的眼睛，
代表我的是孩子们啊，还有孩子们的父辈。
除去服饰吧！在我面前你并无罪恶，我不会对你日久生厌，也不会把你遗弃，
无论何时何地，平纹细布和方格花布都挡不住我穿透一切的目光，
而我会充满韧性地，贪婪地，不知疲倦地围绕着你，决不会
被你摆脱。
Song of Myself
7
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I
know it.
I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots,
And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good,
The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.
I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth,
I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself,
(They do not know how immortal, but I know.)
Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and female,
For me those that have been boys and that love women, For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be
slighted,
For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and the mothers of mothers,
For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears, For me children and the begetters of children.
Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded, I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no, And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot
be shaken away.
歌唱自我
8
这小家伙啊，在摇篮里沉睡，
我撩起纱帐，久久的看着，悄悄地用手
赶走飞蝇。
这小伙啊，和脸蛋红红的姑娘，钻进了
灌木丛生的小山冈，
而我就在他们的头顶凝神窥瞧。
满是血的卧室地板上啊，这自杀的人四肢张开地躺着，
我见证了这具头发湿漉的尸体啊，我记下了那支手枪
落在了何方。
向我泄露秘密的人就在这街道之上，它们是马车的轮胎和靴底的泥巴，还有
攸闲漫步的人彼此间的交谈，
又沉又重的公共马车，举起拇指揽客人的车夫，
还有花岗岩铺就的路面上马蹄踏出的得得声，
雪橇，叮当响着，人们大声地开着玩笑，雪球不停飞掷，
朝着大众的偶像们发出的欢呼，被激怒的群氓怒火中生，
遮盖着担架的帘布拍打着，一个病人躺在里面
被运往医院，
冤家对头撞在了一起，冲口而出的诅咒，飞舞的拳头倒在地下的人，
兴奋的围观人群，佩着星徽的警察快快地
挤过人群来到了中央，
漠然无知的街石，它们承受了这一切，然后又把它们变成如此多的回声传达出来，
晕倒在地的人们发出了多么可怕的呻吟，有的是因为吃太饱了中暑，
有的则饿坏了发晕，
女人突然发出了怎样的惊叫呀，她们急急忙忙赶回家中，
因为孩子就要生了。
那些还没有消逝的言语和已经被埋葬了的言语在这里不停地颤动，还有
在礼数规矩约束下发出的如此压抑的嗥鸣，
对罪犯的拘捕，轻蔑傲慢的表现，为勾搭成奸定下的价码开好了，
有人接受了，有人噘嘴拒绝，
我关注着他们，我关注着这样的演出，我关注着这些东西引起的反响----我来了，
然后我又离开。
Song of Myself
8
The little one sleeps in its cradle,
I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.
The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up the bushy hill,
I peeringly view them from the top.
The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom,
I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen.
The blab of the pave, tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk of the promenaders,
The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor,
The snow-sleighs, clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls,
The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of rous'd mobs,
The flap of the curtain'd litter, a sick man inside borne to the hospital,
The meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows and fall,
The excited crowd, the policeman with his star quickly working his passage to the centre of the crowd,
The impassive stones that receive and return so many echoes,
What groans of over-fed or half-starv'd who fall sunstruck or
in fits,
What exclamations of women taken suddenly who hurry home and give birth to babes,
What living and buried speech is always vibrating here, what howls restrain'd by decorum,
Arrests of criminals, slights, adulterous offers made, acceptances, rejections with convex lips,
I mind them or the show or resonance of them —— I come and I
depart.
8
这小家伙啊，在摇篮里沉睡，
我撩起纱帐，久久的看着，悄悄地用手
赶走飞蝇。
这小伙啊，和脸蛋红红的姑娘，钻进了
灌木丛生的小山冈，
而我就在他们的头顶凝神窥瞧。
满是血的卧室地板上啊，这自杀的人四肢张开地躺着，
我见证了这具头发湿漉的尸体啊，我记下了那支手枪
落在了何方。
向我泄露秘密的人就在这街道之上，它们是马车的轮胎和靴底的泥巴，还有
攸闲漫步的人彼此间的交谈，
又沉又重的公共马车，举起拇指揽客人的车夫，
还有花岗岩铺就的路面上马蹄踏出的得得声，
雪橇，叮当响着，人们大声地开着玩笑，雪球不停飞掷，
朝着大众的偶像们发出的欢呼，被激怒的群氓怒火中生，
遮盖着担架的帘布拍打着，一个病人躺在里面
被运往医院，
冤家对头撞在了一起，冲口而出的诅咒，飞舞的拳头倒在地下的人，
兴奋的围观人群，佩着星徽的警察快快地
挤过人群来到了中央，
漠然无知的街石，它们承受了这一切，然后又把它们变成如此多的回声传达出来，
晕倒在地的人们发出了多么可怕的呻吟，有的是因为吃太饱了中暑，
有的则饿坏了发晕，
女人突然发出了怎样的惊叫呀，她们急急忙忙赶回家中，
因为孩子就要生了。
那些还没有消逝的言语和已经被埋葬了的言语在这里不停地颤动，还有
在礼数规矩约束下发出的如此压抑的嗥鸣，
对罪犯的拘捕，轻蔑傲慢的表现，为勾搭成奸定下的价码开好了，
有人接受了，有人噘嘴拒绝，
我关注着他们，我关注着这样的演出，我关注着这些东西引起的反响----我来了，
然后我又离开。
Song of Myself
8
The little one sleeps in its cradle,
I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.
The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up the bushy hill,
I peeringly view them from the top.
The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom,
I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen.
The blab of the pave, tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk of the promenaders,
The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor,
The snow-sleighs, clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls,
The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of rous'd mobs,
The flap of the curtain'd litter, a sick man inside borne to the hospital,
The meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows and fall,
The excited crowd, the policeman with his star quickly working his passage to the centre of the crowd,
The impassive stones that receive and return so many echoes,
What groans of over-fed or half-starv'd who fall sunstruck or
in fits,
What exclamations of women taken suddenly who hurry home and give birth to babes,
What living and buried speech is always vibrating here, what howls restrain'd by decorum,
Arrests of criminals, slights, adulterous offers made, acceptances, rejections with convex lips,
I mind them or the show or resonance of them —— I come and I
depart.
歌唱自我
9
乡间谷仓的大门敞开着作好了准备，
慢行的大车装满了收获季节的
干草，
清澈的光线演绎在那交替着的淡淡棕灰和绿色之上，
一束束干草堆积着，堆成了松松垂下的草堆。
我就在那儿，我来帮忙，我伸展开身体躺在草堆的顶上，
我感受它轻轻的颤动，一条腿斜倚在另一条腿上，
我从横梁之上跳下，把三叶草和梯牧草
抓在了手中，
我倒立翻滚啊，让一缕缕的干草插满我的发间。
Song of Myself
9
The big doors of the country barn stand open and ready, The dried grass of the harvest-time loads the slow-drawn
wagon,
The clear light plays on the brown gray and green intertinged, The armfuls are pack'd to the sagging mow.
I am there, I help, I came stretch'd atop of the load, I felt its soft jolts, one leg reclined on the other,
I jump from the cross-beams and seize the clover and timothy,
And roll head over heels and tangle my hair full of wisps.
9
乡间谷仓的大门敞开着作好了准备，
慢行的大车装满了收获季节的
干草，
清澈的光线演绎在那交替着的淡淡棕灰和绿色之上，
一束束干草堆积着，堆成了松松垂下的草堆。
我就在那儿，我来帮忙，我伸展开身体躺在草堆的顶上，
我感受它轻轻的颤动，一条腿斜倚在另一条腿上，
我从横梁之上跳下，把三叶草和梯牧草
抓在了手中，
我倒立翻滚啊，让一缕缕的干草插满我的发间。
Song of Myself
9
The big doors of the country barn stand open and ready, The dried grass of the harvest-time loads the slow-drawn
wagon,
The clear light plays on the brown gray and green intertinged, The armfuls are pack'd to the sagging mow.
I am there, I help, I came stretch'd atop of the load, I felt its soft jolts, one leg reclined on the other,
I jump from the cross-beams and seize the clover and timothy,
And roll head over heels and tangle my hair full of wisps.
歌唱自我
10
在遥远的荒野和山间我独自狩猎，
四处游走着，我惊讶于自己的轻盈与快乐，
黄昏时寻找着一块安全之所来度过这个夜晚，
燃起一堆火烤着新狩的猎物，
在收集来的一堆树叶上我进入梦乡，身边带着我的
狗和枪。
扬基式快帆船撑开了她的天帆，她劈开闪亮的波光
疾行快驶，
我双眼紧盯着陆地，弯着身子站在船头或者从在甲板上
发出快乐的叫喊。
船夫和采蛤者早早起来但为我
稍作停留，
我把裤脚塞进靴子，走去享受一段
快乐时光，
那天你真应该和我们在一起啊，围着那海鲜杂陈的煮锅。
我看见了遥远西部一个设陷猎手的露天
婚礼，他的新娘是一个红种女孩，
她的父亲和他的朋友们盘着腿相依而坐，抽着烟儿
不出一声，他们脚下穿着鹿皮靴，肩上披着
大大的厚毯，
这个设陷猎手懒懒地躺在河堤，全身穿满兽皮啊，
茂密腮须浓浓发卷护着颈项，他的新娘被他
拥在手中，
她的眼睫长长，她的发顶无饰，她的发绺粗又直，
垂过她撩人欲望的肢体，垂到了
她的脚旁。
一个逃亡的奴隶来到我的屋旁，在屋外停下，
柴堆上细枝的噼啪声响让我听见了他的动静，
穿过厨房里晃荡的半扇门啊，我看见他
无力又衰弱。
我向坐在一根圆木上的他走去啊，领他进屋让他
心安，
我拿水来注满了浴盆啊，因为他全身汗湿
脚儿青肿，
我让住在一间房里啊，谁想进去必须经过我的这间，我还给了
他几件衣裳，虽然是粗布的但却洗得干净，
我还清楚地记得他转动不定的双眼和局促不安的神态，
我也没有忘记我为他脖颈和脚踝的伤口
敷上了药膏，
他与我呆了一个星期啊，直到他元气重生
去往北方，
我让他靠着我一同坐在桌边，我的火枪斜倚在
桌子的角上。
Song of Myself
10
Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt,
Wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee,
In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night,
Kindling a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game,
Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun by my side.
The Yankee clipper is under her sky-sails, she cuts the sparkle and scud,
My eyes settle the land, I bend at her prow or shout joyously from the deck.
The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me,
I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time;
You should have been with us that day round the chowder-kettle.
I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far west, the bride was a red girl,
Her father and his friends sat near cross-legged and dumbly smoking, they had moccasins to their feet and large thick blankets hanging from their shoulders,
On a bank lounged the trapper, he was drest mostly in skins, his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck, he held his bride by the hand,
She had long eyelashes, her head was bare, her coarse straight locks descended upon her voluptuous limbs and reach'd to her feet.
The runaway slave came to my house and stopt outside,
I heard his motions crackling the twigs of the woodpile,
Through the swung half-door of the kitchen I saw him limpsy
and weak,
And went where he sat on a log and led him in and assured him,
And brought water and fill'd a tub for his sweated body and bruis'd feet,
And gave him a room that enter'd from my own, and gave him some coarse clean clothes,
And remember perfectly well his revolving eyes and his awkwardness,
And remember putting plasters on the galls of his neck and
ankles;
He staid with me a week before he was recuperated and pass'd north,
I had him sit next me at table, my fire-lock lean'd in the corner.
10
在遥远的荒野和山间我独自狩猎，
四处游走着，我惊讶于自己的轻盈与快乐，
黄昏时寻找着一块安全之所来度过这个夜晚，
燃起一堆火烤着新狩的猎物，
在收集来的一堆树叶上我进入梦乡，身边带着我的
狗和枪。
扬基式快帆船撑开了她的天帆，她劈开闪亮的波光
疾行快驶，
我双眼紧盯着陆地，弯着身子站在船头或者从在甲板上
发出快乐的叫喊。
船夫和采蛤者早早起来但为我
稍作停留，
我把裤脚塞进靴子，走去享受一段
快乐时光，
那天你真应该和我们在一起啊，围着那海鲜杂陈的煮锅。
我看见了遥远西部一个设陷猎手的露天
婚礼，他的新娘是一个红种女孩，
她的父亲和他的朋友们盘着腿相依而坐，抽着烟儿
不出一声，他们脚下穿着鹿皮靴，肩上披着
大大的厚毯，
这个设陷猎手懒懒地躺在河堤，全身穿满兽皮啊，
茂密腮须浓浓发卷护着颈项，他的新娘被他
拥在手中，
她的眼睫长长，她的发顶无饰，她的发绺粗又直，
垂过她撩人欲望的肢体，垂到了
她的脚旁。
一个逃亡的奴隶来到我的屋旁，在屋外停下，
柴堆上细枝的噼啪声响让我听见了他的动静，
穿过厨房里晃荡的半扇门啊，我看见他
无力又衰弱。
我向坐在一根圆木上的他走去啊，领他进屋让他
心安，
我拿水来注满了浴盆啊，因为他全身汗湿
脚儿青肿，
我让住在一间房里啊，谁想进去必须经过我的这间，我还给了
他几件衣裳，虽然是粗布的但却洗得干净，
我还清楚地记得他转动不定的双眼和局促不安的神态，
我也没有忘记我为他脖颈和脚踝的伤口
敷上了药膏，
他与我呆了一个星期啊，直到他元气重生
去往北方，
我让他靠着我一同坐在桌边，我的火枪斜倚在
桌子的角上。
Song of Myself
10
Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt,
Wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee,
In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night,
Kindling a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game,
Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun by my side.
The Yankee clipper is under her sky-sails, she cuts the sparkle and scud,
My eyes settle the land, I bend at her prow or shout joyously from the deck.
The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me,
I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time;
You should have been with us that day round the chowder-kettle.
I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far west, the bride was a red girl,
Her father and his friends sat near cross-legged and dumbly smoking, they had moccasins to their feet and large thick blankets hanging from their shoulders,
On a bank lounged the trapper, he was drest mostly in skins, his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck, he held his bride by the hand,
She had long eyelashes, her head was bare, her coarse straight locks descended upon her voluptuous limbs and reach'd to her feet.
The runaway slave came to my house and stopt outside,
I heard his motions crackling the twigs of the woodpile,
Through the swung half-door of the kitchen I saw him limpsy
and weak,
And went where he sat on a log and led him in and assured him,
And brought water and fill'd a tub for his sweated body and bruis'd feet,
And gave him a room that enter'd from my own, and gave him some coarse clean clothes,
And remember perfectly well his revolving eyes and his awkwardness,
And remember putting plasters on the galls of his neck and
ankles;
He staid with me a week before he was recuperated and pass'd north,
I had him sit next me at table, my fire-lock lean'd in the corner.
歌唱自我
11
二十八个青年浴于此岸，
二十八个青年都如此友善，
可二十八年女人般的生命啊，竟都如此地寂寞孤单。
她有一套精美房舍，在峭立的堤岸之畔，
俊美秀俏穿着盛装华服啊，她藏在窗帘的
后方。
那一群小伙之中哪一个是她的最爱？
哦那最平常的一个也被她视为俊男。
小姐女士啊，你要移步何方？因为我看见了你啊，
在那方水中你踏波溅浪，可在你的房中你又静若枯干。
边舞边笑啊，这第二十九个浴者沿着滩涂走来，
其他的浴者没看见她呀，可是她已把他们看见并且爱上。
水在青年小伙的腮须里闪闪发光，水从
他们的长发中流下，
在他们的身上啊，流成了小溪条条。
一张无形手掌，也抚过了他们的身躯，
它战栗着向下抚去啊，从鬓角也从胸肋。
年青的小伙仰浮在水面，白色的肚皮隆起，
朝向太阳，他们不去问啊，那抓紧他们的是谁，
他们不知道啊，那喘着气儿弯下腰身俯垂着
靠近过来的是谁，
他们不去想啊，他们拍起水花浸湿了谁。
Song of Myself
11
Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore,
Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly;
Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome.
She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank,
She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.
Which of the young men does she like the best?
Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.
Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.
Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather,
The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.
The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair,
Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.
An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies,
It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs.
The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them,
They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch,
They do not think whom they souse with spray.
11
二十八个青年浴于此岸，
二十八个青年都如此友善，
可二十八年女人般的生命啊，竟都如此地寂寞孤单。
她有一套精美房舍，在峭立的堤岸之畔，
俊美秀俏穿着盛装华服啊，她藏在窗帘的
后方。
那一群小伙之中哪一个是她的最爱？
哦那最平常的一个也被她视为俊男。
小姐女士啊，你要移步何方？因为我看见了你啊，
在那方水中你踏波溅浪，可在你的房中你又静若枯干。
边舞边笑啊，这第二十九个浴者沿着滩涂走来，
其他的浴者没看见她呀，可是她已把他们看见并且爱上。
水在青年小伙的腮须里闪闪发光，水从
他们的长发中流下，
在他们的身上啊，流成了小溪条条。
一张无形手掌，也抚过了他们的身躯，
它战栗着向下抚去啊，从鬓角也从胸肋。
年青的小伙仰浮在水面，白色的肚皮隆起，
朝向太阳，他们不去问啊，那抓紧他们的是谁，
他们不知道啊，那喘着气儿弯下腰身俯垂着
靠近过来的是谁，
他们不去想啊，他们拍起水花浸湿了谁。
Song of Myself
11
Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore,
Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly;
Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome.
She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank,
She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.
Which of the young men does she like the best?
Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.
Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.
Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather,
The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.
The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair,
Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.
An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies,
It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs.
The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them,
They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch,
They do not think whom they souse with spray.
歌唱自我
12
屠夫的小伙计脱下了屠宰服，他抑或要到
市场的摊位上去磨快他的刀，
我欣赏着他流连不去哟，因为他机智善辩，还因为他舞步新潮。
铁匠们围在铁砧旁，灰扑扑的胸膛毛发丛生，
每人都手拿着大铁锤啊，每一个都使出了全部的力量，火啊，
烤炙得多么厉害。
从洒满炉渣的门槛上我注视着他们的运动，
他们的腰身非常柔软呀，却能与粗壮的手臂
运动协调，
锤子挥过头顶，慢慢地挥过了头顶，
稳稳地挥过了头顶，
他们不急不忙，每个人都让锤准准地落下。
Song of Myself
12
The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market,
I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break-down.
Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil,
Each has his main-sledge, they are all out, there is a great
heat in the fire.
From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements,
The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive
arms,
Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure,
They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.
12
屠夫的小伙计脱下了屠宰服，他抑或要到
市场的摊位上去磨快他的刀，
我欣赏着他流连不去哟，因为他机智善辩，还因为他舞步新潮。
铁匠们围在铁砧旁，灰扑扑的胸膛毛发丛生，
每人都手拿着大铁锤啊，每一个都使出了全部的力量，火啊，
烤炙得多么厉害。
从洒满炉渣的门槛上我注视着他们的运动，
他们的腰身非常柔软呀，却能与粗壮的手臂
运动协调，
锤子挥过头顶，慢慢地挥过了头顶，
稳稳地挥过了头顶，
他们不急不忙，每个人都让锤准准地落下。
Song of Myself
12
The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market,
I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break-down.
Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil,
Each has his main-sledge, they are all out, there is a great
heat in the fire.
From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements,
The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive
arms,
Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure,
They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.
@国学有味 2017-01-21 21:48:53
巷子好深！但酒更香…慢
-----------------------------
多谢光临，业余爱好，所以不给自己压力，慢慢来。
巷子好深！但酒更香…慢
-----------------------------
多谢光临，业余爱好，所以不给自己压力，慢慢来。
@南狼坨子 2017-01-22 06:38:29
高手，专业水准！
看到好翻译，崇拜一下！
-----------------------------
惭愧。多谢光临。新年快乐！
高手，专业水准！
看到好翻译，崇拜一下！
-----------------------------
惭愧。多谢光临。新年快乐！
@爱好2017 2017-01-26 19:44:15
辛苦 祝快乐
-----------------------------
新年快乐！
辛苦 祝快乐
-----------------------------
新年快乐！
歌唱自我
13
那个驾着四匹马的黑人稳稳地抓着马缰，铁链
缠裹的大块石料在他身下晃荡，
那个驾着运石料的长马车的黑人站得又稳又高，
只靠一条腿支撑着啊，他立在纵梁之上，
蓝色的衬衫松松地罩住了他的腰带，衬衫下露出
他宽厚的脖子和胸膛，
他的眼神平静又威严啊，他用手把耷拉下来的帽檐
从前额推开，
他卷曲的头发和胡须上落满了阳光，他那光洁完美的
黑色肢体上啊，也落满了阳光。
我注视着这个如画般的巨人我爱上了他，我
不停留在那儿啊，
我也要与这队伍同行。
我的心中有一片对生命的关爱，无论走到哪里，它都要
前寻后觅，
无论是一旁细小的角落，还是那稚嫩的新芽，它都要俯身查看，不遗漏
任何人啊，也不放过任何物件。
它把这一切都吸收进我的身体啊，为了能唱出这一首歌。
拉着轭牵着索嘎嘎行进的牛群，还有在茂叶的树荫下
歇息的牛群啊，你们的眼神里表达的是什么？
我好像觉得，你们表达的比我一生中读过的所有书籍啊，都要丰富。
我用整天的时间漫游很远很远的地方，我的脚步
惊动了林中的公鸭母鸭，
它们一齐飞起来啊，它们缓缓地盘旋。
我相信这些有翅膀的生命，它们的生命必有意义，
我也承认啊，这红的、黄的、白的万物啊，在我心中奏鸣，
我细细地想到，这绿的、这紫的和这簇状的花冠啊，都有自己的意识，
我不会因为那乌龟仅仅是一只乌龟，
就认为她不值一文，
那林中的鹣鸟虽然从没有研究过音律，可那婉啭鸣叫
却让我觉得非常美妙，
而那栗色的母马的目光，就能使我羞愧于我的愚蠢无知。
Song of Myself
13
The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses, the block swags underneath on its tied-over chain,
The negro that drives the long dray of the stone-yard, steady and tall he stands pois'd on one leg on the string-piece,
His blue shirt exposes his ample neck and breast and loosens over his hip-band,
His glance is calm and commanding, he tosses the slouch of his hat away from his forehead,
The sun falls on his crispy hair and mustache, falls on the black of his polish'd and perfect limbs.
I behold the picturesque giant and love him, and I do not stop there,
I go with the team also.
In me the caresser of life wherever moving, backward as well as forward sluing,
To niches aside and junior bending, not a person or object missing,
Absorbing all to myself and for this song.
Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy shade, what is that you express in your eyes?
It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and day-long ramble,
They rise together, they slowly circle around.
I believe in those wing'd purposes,
And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me,
And consider green and violet and the tufted crown intentional,
And do not call the tortoise unworthy because she is not
something else,
And the jay in the woods never studied the gamut, yet trills pretty well to me,
And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out of me.
13
那个驾着四匹马的黑人稳稳地抓着马缰，铁链
缠裹的大块石料在他身下晃荡，
那个驾着运石料的长马车的黑人站得又稳又高，
只靠一条腿支撑着啊，他立在纵梁之上，
蓝色的衬衫松松地罩住了他的腰带，衬衫下露出
他宽厚的脖子和胸膛，
他的眼神平静又威严啊，他用手把耷拉下来的帽檐
从前额推开，
他卷曲的头发和胡须上落满了阳光，他那光洁完美的
黑色肢体上啊，也落满了阳光。
我注视着这个如画般的巨人我爱上了他，我
不停留在那儿啊，
我也要与这队伍同行。
我的心中有一片对生命的关爱，无论走到哪里，它都要
前寻后觅，
无论是一旁细小的角落，还是那稚嫩的新芽，它都要俯身查看，不遗漏
任何人啊，也不放过任何物件。
它把这一切都吸收进我的身体啊，为了能唱出这一首歌。
拉着轭牵着索嘎嘎行进的牛群，还有在茂叶的树荫下
歇息的牛群啊，你们的眼神里表达的是什么？
我好像觉得，你们表达的比我一生中读过的所有书籍啊，都要丰富。
我用整天的时间漫游很远很远的地方，我的脚步
惊动了林中的公鸭母鸭，
它们一齐飞起来啊，它们缓缓地盘旋。
我相信这些有翅膀的生命，它们的生命必有意义，
我也承认啊，这红的、黄的、白的万物啊，在我心中奏鸣，
我细细地想到，这绿的、这紫的和这簇状的花冠啊，都有自己的意识，
我不会因为那乌龟仅仅是一只乌龟，
就认为她不值一文，
那林中的鹣鸟虽然从没有研究过音律，可那婉啭鸣叫
却让我觉得非常美妙，
而那栗色的母马的目光，就能使我羞愧于我的愚蠢无知。
Song of Myself
13
The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses, the block swags underneath on its tied-over chain,
The negro that drives the long dray of the stone-yard, steady and tall he stands pois'd on one leg on the string-piece,
His blue shirt exposes his ample neck and breast and loosens over his hip-band,
His glance is calm and commanding, he tosses the slouch of his hat away from his forehead,
The sun falls on his crispy hair and mustache, falls on the black of his polish'd and perfect limbs.
I behold the picturesque giant and love him, and I do not stop there,
I go with the team also.
In me the caresser of life wherever moving, backward as well as forward sluing,
To niches aside and junior bending, not a person or object missing,
Absorbing all to myself and for this song.
Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy shade, what is that you express in your eyes?
It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and day-long ramble,
They rise together, they slowly circle around.
I believe in those wing'd purposes,
And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me,
And consider green and violet and the tufted crown intentional,
And do not call the tortoise unworthy because she is not
something else,
And the jay in the woods never studied the gamut, yet trills pretty well to me,
And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out of me.
歌唱自我
14
公野鹅领着鹅群穿越在清凉夜空，
他说，呀嗬，这声音落向我如同一份邀约，
爱出风头的漂亮人儿或许认为它全无意义，但我仔细谛听，
发现了它的目标，我把这目标高置于那儿呀，朝向冬日的天空。
四蹄敏捷的北方驼鹿，蹲伏在屋基上的猫，
还有山雀，草原犬鼠，
还有那群小猪，他们用劲叼着奶头让母猪哼哼不已，
还有一窝火鸡幼雏，以及半张着翅膀的
火鸡妈妈，
在他们和我自己身上啊，我看到了那同样的永恒法则。
我的脚踩压着大地，千百种情感
如泉喷涌，
这些情感轻蔑地看着我啊，看着我用尽了全力对它们的描述。
我痴迷于在户外成长的生活，
我痴迷与牛群生活在一起的人，我痴迷海洋和森林的味道，
我痴迷造船的人，掌舵的人，我痴迷挥舞斧头
挥舞木槌的人啊，我痴迷驾驶马车的人，
我可以与他们同食共眠啊，一个星期接着一星期。
什么最普通，最卑微，最亲密，最容易接近，什么就是我，
我走来，为了属于自己的机会，我付出，为了巨大的回报，
我让自己容光焕发啊，为了把自己奉献给第一个
接受我的人，
我展示善意啊，不是为了祈求苍天的垂青俯就，
而是要把它不求回报地无休无止地播散。
Song of Myself
14
The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,
Ya-honk he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation, The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close, Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky.
The sharp-hoof'd moose of the north, the cat on the housesill, the chickadee, the prairie-dog,
The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her teats,
The brood of the turkey-hen and she with her half-spread wings,
I see in them and myself the same old law.
The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections,
They scorn the best I can do to relate them.
I am enamour'd of growing out-doors,
Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods, Of the builders and steerers of ships and the wielders of axes
and mauls, and the drivers of horses,
I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out.
What is commonest, cheapest, nearest, easiest, is Me,
Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns, Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take
me,
Not asking the sky to come down to my good will, Scattering it freely forever.
14
公野鹅领着鹅群穿越在清凉夜空，
他说，呀嗬，这声音落向我如同一份邀约，
爱出风头的漂亮人儿或许认为它全无意义，但我仔细谛听，
发现了它的目标，我把这目标高置于那儿呀，朝向冬日的天空。
四蹄敏捷的北方驼鹿，蹲伏在屋基上的猫，
还有山雀，草原犬鼠，
还有那群小猪，他们用劲叼着奶头让母猪哼哼不已，
还有一窝火鸡幼雏，以及半张着翅膀的
火鸡妈妈，
在他们和我自己身上啊，我看到了那同样的永恒法则。
我的脚踩压着大地，千百种情感
如泉喷涌，
这些情感轻蔑地看着我啊，看着我用尽了全力对它们的描述。
我痴迷于在户外成长的生活，
我痴迷与牛群生活在一起的人，我痴迷海洋和森林的味道，
我痴迷造船的人，掌舵的人，我痴迷挥舞斧头
挥舞木槌的人啊，我痴迷驾驶马车的人，
我可以与他们同食共眠啊，一个星期接着一星期。
什么最普通，最卑微，最亲密，最容易接近，什么就是我，
我走来，为了属于自己的机会，我付出，为了巨大的回报，
我让自己容光焕发啊，为了把自己奉献给第一个
接受我的人，
我展示善意啊，不是为了祈求苍天的垂青俯就，
而是要把它不求回报地无休无止地播散。
Song of Myself
14
The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,
Ya-honk he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation, The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close, Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky.
The sharp-hoof'd moose of the north, the cat on the housesill, the chickadee, the prairie-dog,
The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her teats,
The brood of the turkey-hen and she with her half-spread wings,
I see in them and myself the same old law.
The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections,
They scorn the best I can do to relate them.
I am enamour'd of growing out-doors,
Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods, Of the builders and steerers of ships and the wielders of axes
and mauls, and the drivers of horses,
I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out.
What is commonest, cheapest, nearest, easiest, is Me,
Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns, Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take
me,
Not asking the sky to come down to my good will, Scattering it freely forever.
歌唱自我
15
声音纯净的女低音在风琴楼廊上唱了起来，
木匠修整着手上的板材，他那粗刨的刨舌像吹哨一样，
发出粗野的逐渐升高的沙沙声，
结了婚的和还没结婚的孩子们，都骑着马儿向家里赶去，
去参加他们的感恩节晚餐，
舵手抓紧了转向梢，他用一只有力的臂膀，
让船倾斜着转了过来，
大副鼓足起力量站在捕鲸的小划船上，把长矛和鱼叉
都准备好。
猎鸭的射手一程一程地走了过来，悄无声息又谨慎小心，
教会执事将双手叉起，在祭坛前领受着圣职，
纺纱姑娘在大纺轮的嗡嗡声中前前后后地
走着，
周日里闲逛的农夫走到了栅栏面前把步子停下，
眼睛看向了那些燕麦和黑麦，
被确诊了的那个疯子终于被送进了疯人院，
（他再也不能像从前那样，睡在他母亲卧室里
的那张小床上了，）
头发花白下巴尖瘦的报章杂志印刷工，在他的排字盘前
工作着，
当他看着原稿的眼睛迷矇模糊的时候，他嚼起了
他的烟草，
畸形的肢体被绑在了外科医生的工作台上，
割下来的东西恶心而可怕地扔进了一只桶里，
一个四分之一的混血女孩在拍卖台上被卖掉了，而那醉鬼
则在酒吧间的炉子边打起了盹，
机械工人卷起了自己的衣袖，警察沿着他的路线
巡逻，看门人把通过的人一一记下，
一个年轻的小伙子赶着快递马车，（我爱上了他，
虽然我并不认识他，）
一个印欧混血儿绑好了他的轻便靴，准备参加一场跑步比赛，
西部火鸡射击赛吸引了老老和少少的人们，有些人斜倚在
来复枪上，有些人坐在圆木上，
人群里走出了一个神枪手，站到了他的位置上，
平端起他的枪，
一群群新来的移民站满了码头和大堤，
那些头发卷曲如同羊毛的人在甘蔗地里锄着草，监工跨坐在马鞍上
巡视着他们，
舞厅里召唤的号声响了起来，那些绅士们争着邀请自己的
舞伴，步入舞池的人们相互鞠起了躬，
雪松木屋顶的阁楼里，没睡着的青年躺卧着，听着那
音乐一般的雨声，
密执安的狼獾族人在一条流向休伦湖的小溪边设下了陷阱，
包裹在镶黄边的布巾里的印第安女人在出售
鹿皮鞋和串珠包，
鉴赏家半闭着眼睛沿着展示长廊
凝神观瞧，他侧着身子弯下腰来，
舱面水手把蒸汽船停靠稳当，供乘客上岸的木板
扔了过来，
妹妹撑开了一绞纱线，姐姐把它绕成
一个圆球，并且不时地停下来
把疙瘩解开，
结婚刚满一年的少妇正在快乐地恢复身体，一周以前
她生下了她的第一个孩子，
头发干净的扬基女孩在缝纫机旁工作着，
或者在工厂或作坊中工作着，
铺路工人斜靠在他的双柄槌上，记者的
铅笔在他的笔记本上敏捷地飞舞，画招牌的
正在用的蓝色和金色描着字母，
运河上的小纤夫沿着纤道小步跑着，会计在他的书桌上
算着帐，鞋匠在给他的线打着蜡，
乐队指挥为乐团打起节拍，所有的演出者
都听从着他的指挥，
小孩子在受洗礼，改换教派的在做他的第一次忏悔，
赛艇比赛在海湾里召开了，比赛已经开始，（那些白色的
帆儿是多么地闪亮啊！）
贩牲口的看管着他的畜群，用唱歌一般的声音吆喝着要离群的牲口，
背上背着包的小贩汗水直流，（买货的
在为蝇头小利和他讨价还价;）
新娘把白婚纱的绉褶一道道抚平，那钟上的指针
慢慢地走着，
吸鸦片的人斜斜地躺着，头儿僵硬嘴唇微微张开，
妓女把披巾拖在身后，在她那微带醉意长着疮疹的脖子上，
她的无边女帽微微颤动，
挤成一团的人们笑话着她那粗鄙的咒语，男人们挤眉弄眼
互相讥嘲，
（可怜的人啊！我不会笑话你的诅咒，也不会对你嘲讽讥笑;）
总统在召开一个内阁会议，各部卿长
环绕在他的身边，
三个仪态端庄又友善的妇人挽起了手臂，走在
广场的上面，
小渔船的船员们在舱里把比目鱼
一层一层地码了起来，
密苏里人带着他的家当和牲畜
穿越一个个平原，
售票员从车厢里穿过，他把零钱弄得叮当响，
来引起大家的注意，
铺地板的在铺着地板，铁皮工人在给屋顶铺上
铁皮，泥水匠在喊着要灰泥，
工人们则排成一行，挑着灰浆桶
走了上来；
一个季节接替着一个季节，无数的群众开始
集会了，七月四号到了，（加农炮和轻武器
行了多么尊重的致礼呀！）
一个季节接替着一个季节，耕田的耕好了田，
收割的做好了收割，冬播的种子也撒进了田地；
捕狗鱼的渔夫来在湖面上，在冰冻湖面的洞口边
他观察并等待着，
林中空地的四周树桩密密地排列着，新到的定居者举起斧头
用力地砍着，
黄昏到来时船员在三叶杨或者美洲山核桃旁
牢牢地拴好了平底船，
搜索逃跑黑鬼的人搜遍了红河地区，搜遍了
田纳西的整个流域，也搜遍了阿肯色河的两岸，
在高悬在恰塔胡支和阿尔塔马哈河上空的黒暗里火炬
闪耀着，
家族的长者们在晚餐桌旁坐下，儿子孙子和重孙子们
围绕在他们身边，
砖坯屋的墙里，帆布帐蓬里，在一天的狩猎活动后，
猎手和陷阱手歇息了，
城市睡下了，村庄也睡下了，
活着的人按照他们的时间睡下了，死了的也按照他们的时间睡下了，
老迈的丈夫睡在他妻子的身旁，年轻的丈夫
也睡在他妻子的身旁，
而这些都朝我心里走来，我也从自己心里走向他们，
他们现在的这个样子，也就或多或少是我的样子，
用他们每一个人，用他们所有的人，我编织了这首关于我自己的歌。
Song of Myself
15
The pure contralto sings in the organ loft,
The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild ascending lisp,
The married and unmarried children ride home to their
Thanksgiving dinner,
The pilot seizes the king-pin, he heaves down with a strong arm,
The mate stands braced in the whale-boat, lance and harpoon are ready,
The duck-shooter walks by silent and cautious stretches, The deacons are ordain'd with cross'd hands at the altar,
The spinning-girl retreats and advances to the hum of the big wheel,
The farmer stops by the bars as he walks on a First-day loafe and looks at the oats and rye,
The lunatic is carried at last to the asylum a confirm'd case, (He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his
mother's bedroom;)
The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case,
He turns his quid of tobacco while his eyes blurr with the manuscript;
The malform'd limbs are tied to the surgeon's table, What is removed drops horribly in a pail;
The quadroon girl is sold at the auction-stand, the drunkard nods by the bar-room stove,
The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his beat, the gate-keeper marks who pass,
The young fellow drives the express-wagon, (I love him, though I do not know him;)
The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the race, The western turkey-shooting draws old and young, some lean
on their rifles, some sit on logs,
Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece;
The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or levee, As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views
them from his saddle,
The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their partners, the dancers bow to each other,
The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof'd garret and harks to the musical rain,
The Wolverine sets traps on the creek that helps fill the Huron, The squaw wrapt in her yellow-hemm'd cloth is offering
moccasins and bead-bags for sale,
The connoisseur peers along the exhibition-gallery with half-shut eyes bent sideways,
As the deck-hands make fast the steamboat the plank is thrown for the shore-going passengers,
The young sister holds out the skein while the elder sister winds it off in a ball, and stops now and then for the knots,
The one-year wife is recovering and happy having a week ago borne her first child,
The clean-hair'd Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine or in the factory or mill,
The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the
reporter's lead flies swiftly over the note-book, the signpainter is lettering with blue and gold,
The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper counts at his desk, the shoemaker waxes his thread,
The conductor beats time for the band and all the performers follow him,
The child is baptized, the convert is making his first professions, The regatta is spread on the bay, the race is begun, (how the
white sails sparkle!)
The drover watching his drove sings out to them that would stray, The pedler sweats with his pack on his back, (the purchaser
higgling about the odd cent;)
The bride unrumples her white dress, the minute-hand of the clock moves slowly,
The opium-eater reclines with rigid head and just-open'd lips, The prostitute draggles her shawl, her bonnet bobs on her
tipsy and pimpled neck,
The crowd laugh at her blackguard oaths, the men jeer and wink to each other,
(Miserable! I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you;)
The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the great Secretaries,
On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms,
The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in the hold,
The Missourian crosses the plains toting his wares and his cattle,
As the fare-collector goes through the train he gives notice by the jingling of loose change,
The floor-men are laying the floor, the tinners are tinning the roof, the masons are calling for mortar,
In single file each shouldering his hod pass onward the laborers;
Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gather'd, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, (what salutes of cannon and small arms!)
Seasons pursuing each other the plougher ploughs, the mower mows, and the winter-grain falls in the ground;
Off on the lakes the pike-fisher watches and waits by the hole in the frozen surface,
The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter strikes deep with his axe,
Flatboatmen make fast towards dusk near the cotton-wood or pecan-trees,
Coon-seekers go through the regions of the Red river or through those drain'd by the Tennessee, or through those of the Arkansas,
Torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahooche or
Altamahaw,
Patriarchs sit at supper with sons and grandsons and great-grandsons around them,
In walls of adobie, in canvas tents, rest hunters and trappers after their day's sport,
The city sleeps and the country sleeps,
The living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time, The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband
sleeps by his wife;
And these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them, And such as it is to be of these more or less I am,
And of these one and all I weave the song of myself.
15
声音纯净的女低音在风琴楼廊上唱了起来，
木匠修整着手上的板材，他那粗刨的刨舌像吹哨一样，
发出粗野的逐渐升高的沙沙声，
结了婚的和还没结婚的孩子们，都骑着马儿向家里赶去，
去参加他们的感恩节晚餐，
舵手抓紧了转向梢，他用一只有力的臂膀，
让船倾斜着转了过来，
大副鼓足起力量站在捕鲸的小划船上，把长矛和鱼叉
都准备好。
猎鸭的射手一程一程地走了过来，悄无声息又谨慎小心，
教会执事将双手叉起，在祭坛前领受着圣职，
纺纱姑娘在大纺轮的嗡嗡声中前前后后地
走着，
周日里闲逛的农夫走到了栅栏面前把步子停下，
眼睛看向了那些燕麦和黑麦，
被确诊了的那个疯子终于被送进了疯人院，
（他再也不能像从前那样，睡在他母亲卧室里
的那张小床上了，）
头发花白下巴尖瘦的报章杂志印刷工，在他的排字盘前
工作着，
当他看着原稿的眼睛迷矇模糊的时候，他嚼起了
他的烟草，
畸形的肢体被绑在了外科医生的工作台上，
割下来的东西恶心而可怕地扔进了一只桶里，
一个四分之一的混血女孩在拍卖台上被卖掉了，而那醉鬼
则在酒吧间的炉子边打起了盹，
机械工人卷起了自己的衣袖，警察沿着他的路线
巡逻，看门人把通过的人一一记下，
一个年轻的小伙子赶着快递马车，（我爱上了他，
虽然我并不认识他，）
一个印欧混血儿绑好了他的轻便靴，准备参加一场跑步比赛，
西部火鸡射击赛吸引了老老和少少的人们，有些人斜倚在
来复枪上，有些人坐在圆木上，
人群里走出了一个神枪手，站到了他的位置上，
平端起他的枪，
一群群新来的移民站满了码头和大堤，
那些头发卷曲如同羊毛的人在甘蔗地里锄着草，监工跨坐在马鞍上
巡视着他们，
舞厅里召唤的号声响了起来，那些绅士们争着邀请自己的
舞伴，步入舞池的人们相互鞠起了躬，
雪松木屋顶的阁楼里，没睡着的青年躺卧着，听着那
音乐一般的雨声，
密执安的狼獾族人在一条流向休伦湖的小溪边设下了陷阱，
包裹在镶黄边的布巾里的印第安女人在出售
鹿皮鞋和串珠包，
鉴赏家半闭着眼睛沿着展示长廊
凝神观瞧，他侧着身子弯下腰来，
舱面水手把蒸汽船停靠稳当，供乘客上岸的木板
扔了过来，
妹妹撑开了一绞纱线，姐姐把它绕成
一个圆球，并且不时地停下来
把疙瘩解开，
结婚刚满一年的少妇正在快乐地恢复身体，一周以前
她生下了她的第一个孩子，
头发干净的扬基女孩在缝纫机旁工作着，
或者在工厂或作坊中工作着，
铺路工人斜靠在他的双柄槌上，记者的
铅笔在他的笔记本上敏捷地飞舞，画招牌的
正在用的蓝色和金色描着字母，
运河上的小纤夫沿着纤道小步跑着，会计在他的书桌上
算着帐，鞋匠在给他的线打着蜡，
乐队指挥为乐团打起节拍，所有的演出者
都听从着他的指挥，
小孩子在受洗礼，改换教派的在做他的第一次忏悔，
赛艇比赛在海湾里召开了，比赛已经开始，（那些白色的
帆儿是多么地闪亮啊！）
贩牲口的看管着他的畜群，用唱歌一般的声音吆喝着要离群的牲口，
背上背着包的小贩汗水直流，（买货的
在为蝇头小利和他讨价还价;）
新娘把白婚纱的绉褶一道道抚平，那钟上的指针
慢慢地走着，
吸鸦片的人斜斜地躺着，头儿僵硬嘴唇微微张开，
妓女把披巾拖在身后，在她那微带醉意长着疮疹的脖子上，
她的无边女帽微微颤动，
挤成一团的人们笑话着她那粗鄙的咒语，男人们挤眉弄眼
互相讥嘲，
（可怜的人啊！我不会笑话你的诅咒，也不会对你嘲讽讥笑;）
总统在召开一个内阁会议，各部卿长
环绕在他的身边，
三个仪态端庄又友善的妇人挽起了手臂，走在
广场的上面，
小渔船的船员们在舱里把比目鱼
一层一层地码了起来，
密苏里人带着他的家当和牲畜
穿越一个个平原，
售票员从车厢里穿过，他把零钱弄得叮当响，
来引起大家的注意，
铺地板的在铺着地板，铁皮工人在给屋顶铺上
铁皮，泥水匠在喊着要灰泥，
工人们则排成一行，挑着灰浆桶
走了上来；
一个季节接替着一个季节，无数的群众开始
集会了，七月四号到了，（加农炮和轻武器
行了多么尊重的致礼呀！）
一个季节接替着一个季节，耕田的耕好了田，
收割的做好了收割，冬播的种子也撒进了田地；
捕狗鱼的渔夫来在湖面上，在冰冻湖面的洞口边
他观察并等待着，
林中空地的四周树桩密密地排列着，新到的定居者举起斧头
用力地砍着，
黄昏到来时船员在三叶杨或者美洲山核桃旁
牢牢地拴好了平底船，
搜索逃跑黑鬼的人搜遍了红河地区，搜遍了
田纳西的整个流域，也搜遍了阿肯色河的两岸，
在高悬在恰塔胡支和阿尔塔马哈河上空的黒暗里火炬
闪耀着，
家族的长者们在晚餐桌旁坐下，儿子孙子和重孙子们
围绕在他们身边，
砖坯屋的墙里，帆布帐蓬里，在一天的狩猎活动后，
猎手和陷阱手歇息了，
城市睡下了，村庄也睡下了，
活着的人按照他们的时间睡下了，死了的也按照他们的时间睡下了，
老迈的丈夫睡在他妻子的身旁，年轻的丈夫
也睡在他妻子的身旁，
而这些都朝我心里走来，我也从自己心里走向他们，
他们现在的这个样子，也就或多或少是我的样子，
用他们每一个人，用他们所有的人，我编织了这首关于我自己的歌。
Song of Myself
15
The pure contralto sings in the organ loft,
The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild ascending lisp,
The married and unmarried children ride home to their
Thanksgiving dinner,
The pilot seizes the king-pin, he heaves down with a strong arm,
The mate stands braced in the whale-boat, lance and harpoon are ready,
The duck-shooter walks by silent and cautious stretches, The deacons are ordain'd with cross'd hands at the altar,
The spinning-girl retreats and advances to the hum of the big wheel,
The farmer stops by the bars as he walks on a First-day loafe and looks at the oats and rye,
The lunatic is carried at last to the asylum a confirm'd case, (He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his
mother's bedroom;)
The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case,
He turns his quid of tobacco while his eyes blurr with the manuscript;
The malform'd limbs are tied to the surgeon's table, What is removed drops horribly in a pail;
The quadroon girl is sold at the auction-stand, the drunkard nods by the bar-room stove,
The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his beat, the gate-keeper marks who pass,
The young fellow drives the express-wagon, (I love him, though I do not know him;)
The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the race, The western turkey-shooting draws old and young, some lean
on their rifles, some sit on logs,
Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece;
The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or levee, As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views
them from his saddle,
The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their partners, the dancers bow to each other,
The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof'd garret and harks to the musical rain,
The Wolverine sets traps on the creek that helps fill the Huron, The squaw wrapt in her yellow-hemm'd cloth is offering
moccasins and bead-bags for sale,
The connoisseur peers along the exhibition-gallery with half-shut eyes bent sideways,
As the deck-hands make fast the steamboat the plank is thrown for the shore-going passengers,
The young sister holds out the skein while the elder sister winds it off in a ball, and stops now and then for the knots,
The one-year wife is recovering and happy having a week ago borne her first child,
The clean-hair'd Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine or in the factory or mill,
The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the
reporter's lead flies swiftly over the note-book, the signpainter is lettering with blue and gold,
The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper counts at his desk, the shoemaker waxes his thread,
The conductor beats time for the band and all the performers follow him,
The child is baptized, the convert is making his first professions, The regatta is spread on the bay, the race is begun, (how the
white sails sparkle!)
The drover watching his drove sings out to them that would stray, The pedler sweats with his pack on his back, (the purchaser
higgling about the odd cent;)
The bride unrumples her white dress, the minute-hand of the clock moves slowly,
The opium-eater reclines with rigid head and just-open'd lips, The prostitute draggles her shawl, her bonnet bobs on her
tipsy and pimpled neck,
The crowd laugh at her blackguard oaths, the men jeer and wink to each other,
(Miserable! I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you;)
The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the great Secretaries,
On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms,
The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in the hold,
The Missourian crosses the plains toting his wares and his cattle,
As the fare-collector goes through the train he gives notice by the jingling of loose change,
The floor-men are laying the floor, the tinners are tinning the roof, the masons are calling for mortar,
In single file each shouldering his hod pass onward the laborers;
Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gather'd, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, (what salutes of cannon and small arms!)
Seasons pursuing each other the plougher ploughs, the mower mows, and the winter-grain falls in the ground;
Off on the lakes the pike-fisher watches and waits by the hole in the frozen surface,
The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter strikes deep with his axe,
Flatboatmen make fast towards dusk near the cotton-wood or pecan-trees,
Coon-seekers go through the regions of the Red river or through those drain'd by the Tennessee, or through those of the Arkansas,
Torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahooche or
Altamahaw,
Patriarchs sit at supper with sons and grandsons and great-grandsons around them,
In walls of adobie, in canvas tents, rest hunters and trappers after their day's sport,
The city sleeps and the country sleeps,
The living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time, The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband
sleeps by his wife;
And these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them, And such as it is to be of these more or less I am,
And of these one and all I weave the song of myself.
歌唱自我
16
我既年老，我也年轻，我聪明，但我也同样愚蠢，
我对别人漠不关心啊，但又永远对别人关心备至，
我身上有母性也有父性，我是孩子又是成人，
构成我的材料粗糙低劣，构成我的材料
精巧细致。
我是许多民族中的这个民族中的一员，而在这许多的民族之中啊，无论最小还是最大的，
都同样只是其中的一员，
我时而是一个南方人啊，时而又是一个北方人，我是一个居住在
奥柯尼河畔的种植园主啊，我冷血可又热情好客，
我也是一个生来就有生意头脑的固执的扬基佬，我的关节是
世界上最柔软的，我的关节也是世界上最僵硬的，
我是一个肯塔基人，裹着鹿皮绑腿走在艾尔克洪溪谷，
我也是一个路易斯安那人，或一个佐治亚人，
我是一个船夫，在湖上，在海湾，或者沿着海岸航行，
我也是一个印第安纳人，威斯康星人和俄亥俄人，
穿上加拿大雪地鞋啊，我自在惬意，爬进丛林啊，我自在惬意，
远行到纽芬兰与渔人们在一起，我自在惬意，
乘上一队冰上滑行船啊，我自在惬意，我与大家一起航行啊，
抢着风头转变航向，
在佛蒙特的山丘上啊，我自在惬意，在缅因的
林中啊，我自在惬意，在德克萨斯的大牧场里啊，我自在惬意，
我是加利福尼亚人的同志，我也是那自由的西北部人的
同志，（我热爱着他们魁伟的体格呀，）
我是撑筏人的同志和煤矿工人的同志，我是所有人的同志啊，
只要他们肯把臂言欢，肯热情地留客饮宴，
我是一个最单纯的学习者，我也是思想最深邃的老师，
我是刚刚起步的新手啊，我也阅尽岁月饱经风霜，
我身上有每一种肤色，也有每一个种姓，属于每一个等级，也属于每一种宗教，
我是一个农夫，一个机械工人，一个艺术家，一个绅士，一个水手，一个教友派信徒，
一个囚徒，一个吃软饭的，一个无赖，一个律师，一个医生，一个牧师。
我可以抗拒一切，却无法避开我自身的千面百变，
我要呼吸这空气，但我也会给他人留下充足的氧气，
我绝不高傲啊，但我占据着我的位置。
（飞蛾和鱼卵占据着自己的位置，
那些我看得见的明亮的太阳和那些我看不见的黑暗的太阳
占据着自己的位置，
可以感触的东西占据着自己的位置，而感触不到的东西也占据着自己的位置。）
Song of Myself
16
I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise,
Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,
Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse and stuff'd with the stuff
that is fine,
One of the Nation of many nations, the smallest the same and the largest the same,
A Southerner soon as a Northerner, a planter nonchalant and hospitable down by the Oconee I live,
A Yankee bound my own way ready for trade, my joints the limberest joints on earth and the sternest joints on earth,
A Kentuckian walking the vale of the Elkhorn in my deer-skin leggings, a Louisianian or Georgian,
A boatman over lakes or bays or along coasts, a Hoosier, Badger, Buck-eye;
At home on Kanadian snow-shoes or up in the bush, or with fishermen off Newfoundland,
At home in the fleet of ice-boats, sailing with the rest and tacking,
At home on the hills of Vermont or in the woods of Maine, or the Texan ranch,
Comrade of Californians, comrade of free North-Westerners, (loving their big proportions,)
Comrade of raftsmen and coalmen, comrade of all who shake hands and welcome to drink and meat,
A learner with the simplest, a teacher of the thoughtfullest,
A novice beginning yet experient of myriads of seasons,
Of every hue and caste am I, of every rank and religion,
A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, quaker,
Prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician, priest.
I resist any thing better than my own diversity,
Breathe the air but leave plenty after me,
And am not stuck up, and am in my place.
(The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place,
The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place,
The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.)
16
我既年老，我也年轻，我聪明，但我也同样愚蠢，
我对别人漠不关心啊，但又永远对别人关心备至，
我身上有母性也有父性，我是孩子又是成人，
构成我的材料粗糙低劣，构成我的材料
精巧细致。
我是许多民族中的这个民族中的一员，而在这许多的民族之中啊，无论最小还是最大的，
都同样只是其中的一员，
我时而是一个南方人啊，时而又是一个北方人，我是一个居住在
奥柯尼河畔的种植园主啊，我冷血可又热情好客，
我也是一个生来就有生意头脑的固执的扬基佬，我的关节是
世界上最柔软的，我的关节也是世界上最僵硬的，
我是一个肯塔基人，裹着鹿皮绑腿走在艾尔克洪溪谷，
我也是一个路易斯安那人，或一个佐治亚人，
我是一个船夫，在湖上，在海湾，或者沿着海岸航行，
我也是一个印第安纳人，威斯康星人和俄亥俄人，
穿上加拿大雪地鞋啊，我自在惬意，爬进丛林啊，我自在惬意，
远行到纽芬兰与渔人们在一起，我自在惬意，
乘上一队冰上滑行船啊，我自在惬意，我与大家一起航行啊，
抢着风头转变航向，
在佛蒙特的山丘上啊，我自在惬意，在缅因的
林中啊，我自在惬意，在德克萨斯的大牧场里啊，我自在惬意，
我是加利福尼亚人的同志，我也是那自由的西北部人的
同志，（我热爱着他们魁伟的体格呀，）
我是撑筏人的同志和煤矿工人的同志，我是所有人的同志啊，
只要他们肯把臂言欢，肯热情地留客饮宴，
我是一个最单纯的学习者，我也是思想最深邃的老师，
我是刚刚起步的新手啊，我也阅尽岁月饱经风霜，
我身上有每一种肤色，也有每一个种姓，属于每一个等级，也属于每一种宗教，
我是一个农夫，一个机械工人，一个艺术家，一个绅士，一个水手，一个教友派信徒，
一个囚徒，一个吃软饭的，一个无赖，一个律师，一个医生，一个牧师。
我可以抗拒一切，却无法避开我自身的千面百变，
我要呼吸这空气，但我也会给他人留下充足的氧气，
我绝不高傲啊，但我占据着我的位置。
（飞蛾和鱼卵占据着自己的位置，
那些我看得见的明亮的太阳和那些我看不见的黑暗的太阳
占据着自己的位置，
可以感触的东西占据着自己的位置，而感触不到的东西也占据着自己的位置。）
Song of Myself
16
I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise,
Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,
Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse and stuff'd with the stuff
that is fine,
One of the Nation of many nations, the smallest the same and the largest the same,
A Southerner soon as a Northerner, a planter nonchalant and hospitable down by the Oconee I live,
A Yankee bound my own way ready for trade, my joints the limberest joints on earth and the sternest joints on earth,
A Kentuckian walking the vale of the Elkhorn in my deer-skin leggings, a Louisianian or Georgian,
A boatman over lakes or bays or along coasts, a Hoosier, Badger, Buck-eye;
At home on Kanadian snow-shoes or up in the bush, or with fishermen off Newfoundland,
At home in the fleet of ice-boats, sailing with the rest and tacking,
At home on the hills of Vermont or in the woods of Maine, or the Texan ranch,
Comrade of Californians, comrade of free North-Westerners, (loving their big proportions,)
Comrade of raftsmen and coalmen, comrade of all who shake hands and welcome to drink and meat,
A learner with the simplest, a teacher of the thoughtfullest,
A novice beginning yet experient of myriads of seasons,
Of every hue and caste am I, of every rank and religion,
A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, quaker,
Prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician, priest.
I resist any thing better than my own diversity,
Breathe the air but leave plenty after me,
And am not stuck up, and am in my place.
(The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place,
The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place,
The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.)
歌唱自我
17
这的确是属于全体人类的思想啊，属于每一个年龄，每一个国家的人民，
它们并非我的独创，
如果它们不是像属于我一样地属于你们，它们将一文不值，或者
近乎一文不值，
如果它们不是一个谜团，不是对谜团的解析，它们
将一文不值，
如果它们不是像近在手边一样地遥不可及，它们还是
一文不值，
这是青草，有土有水
就能生长，
这是平凡的空气，沐浴着大地。
Song of Myself
17
These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,
If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing,
If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing,
If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
This the common air that bathes the globe.
17
这的确是属于全体人类的思想啊，属于每一个年龄，每一个国家的人民，
它们并非我的独创，
如果它们不是像属于我一样地属于你们，它们将一文不值，或者
近乎一文不值，
如果它们不是一个谜团，不是对谜团的解析，它们
将一文不值，
如果它们不是像近在手边一样地遥不可及，它们还是
一文不值，
这是青草，有土有水
就能生长，
这是平凡的空气，沐浴着大地。
Song of Myself
17
These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,
If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing,
If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing,
If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
This the common air that bathes the globe.