Ralph Waldo Emerson
Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gulf of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerabIe days.
I hid in the solar glory,
I am dumb in the pealing song,
I rest on the pitch of the torrent,
In slumber I am strong.
No numbers have counted my tallies,
No tribes my house can fill,
I sit by the shining Fount of Life,
And pour the deIuge still;
And ever by delicate powers
Gathering along the centuries
From race on race the rarest flowers,
My wreath shall nothing miss.
And many a thousand summers
My apples ripened well,
And light from meliorating stars
With firmer glory fell.
I wrote the past in characters
Of rock and fire the scroll,
The building in the coral sea,
The planting of the coal.
And thefts from satellites and rings
And broken stars I drew,
And out of spent and aged things
I formed the world anew;
What time the gods kept carnival,
Tricked out in star and flower,
And in cramp elf and saurian forms
They swathed their too much power.
Time and Thought were my surveyors,
They laid their courses well,
They boiled the sea, and baked the layers
Or granite, marl, and shell.
But he, the man-child glorious,—
Where tarries he the while?
The rainbow shines his harbinger,
The sunset gleams his smile.
My boreal lights leap upward,
Forthright my planets roll,
And still the man-child is not born,
The summit of the whole.
Must time and tide forever run?
Will never my winds go sleep in the west?
Will never my wheels which whirl the sun
And satellites have rest?
Too much of donning and doffing,
Too slow the rainbow fades,
I weary of my robe of snow,
My leaves and my cascades;
I tire of globes and races,
Too long the game is played;
What without him is summer's pomp,
Or winter's frozen shade?
I travail in pain for him,
My creatures travail and wait;
His couriers come by squadrons,
He comes not to the gate.
Twice I have moulded an image,
And thrice outstretched my hand,
Made one of day, and one of night,
And one of the salt sea-sand.
One in a Judaean manger,
And one by Avon stream,
One over against the mouths of Nile,
And one in the Academe.
I moulded kings and saviours,
And bards o'er kings to rule;—
But fell the starry influence short,
The cup was never full.
Yet whirl the glowing wheels once more,
And mix the bowl again;
Seethe, fate!the ancient elements,
Heat, cold, wet, dry, and peace, and pain.
Let war and trade and creeds and song
Blend, ripen race on race,
The sunburnt world a man shall breed
Of all the zones, and countless days.
No ray is dimmed, no atom worn,
My oldest force is good as new,
And the fresh rose on yonder thorn
Gives back the bending heavens in dew.
拉爾夫·瓦爾多·愛默生
我擁有黑夜與清晨,
大氣的溝壑,空間的深淵,
太陽嬉鬧,月華盈盈,
數(shù)不清的一天天。
我躲進(jìn)陽光的輝煌,
在隆隆的歌里沉默,
停在洪流的波面,
我在酣眠中強壯。
沒有數(shù)字將我計數(shù),
沒有部落充滿我的房屋,
坐在波光瀲滟的生命泉邊,
我默默將洪流傾注;
曾經(jīng)倚靠精妙的力量
沿著諸多的世紀(jì)采集
一種接一種珍稀的花朵,
我的花冠上什么都不會逃過。
經(jīng)過成千上萬個夏季
我的蘋果都成熟了,
變化著的星星閃爍
撒下堅實的光芒。
我用巖石的質(zhì)地書寫往昔
并焚燒那些紙制卷軸,
珊瑚海中的建筑哦,
煤礦的基底。
從那些衛(wèi)星和軌道間
我竊取毀壞的星宿,
用那些衰竭與老化之物
我將全新的世界構(gòu)筑;
何時諸神流連于狂歡,
用星星和花朵妝扮,
也用痙攣的侏儒與蜥蜴標(biāo)本
賦予過多的神力給它們。
時間與思想將我檢驗,
鋪設(shè)它們美好的進(jìn)程,
它們煮沸大海,燒硬巖層
或是花崗巖、泥灰?guī)r和地殼。
而他,光榮的男孩,——
此時他在何處流連?
彩虹為他映出預(yù)言,
夕陽使他的微笑閃現(xiàn)。
我的北極光向上飛升,
我的行星都即刻開始運行,
那男孩,一切的頂點
卻依然尚未出生,
時間與潮汐必將恒久運行?
我的風(fēng)在西方永不入睡?
我那輪子轉(zhuǎn)動太陽
和行星,永遠(yuǎn)都不會停?
太多的求取,太多的丟棄,
虹影太過緩慢地褪去,
我厭倦我那雪之長衣,
我的葉子和我的瀑流。
我厭倦眾星及其運行,
這游戲已玩了太久;
沒有他,怎一番夏日的盛景,
怎一番冬日冰冷的暗影?
我為他陷入勞苦傷痛,
我的創(chuàng)造物苦苦等待;
他的信使紛紛而來,
他卻沒有來到門外。
我兩度造出一個形象,
又三次把我的手展開,
造一個用白晝,另一個用夜晚,
還有一個用那鹽漬的海灘。
一個在猶大的馬槽,
還有一個在埃文河畔,
一個對著尼羅河口,
還有一個在“學(xué)苑”。
我造出國王與救世主,
還有王權(quán)莫及的游吟詩仙;——
卻未能降下燦如群星的感化,
那杯子從未充滿。
再次將那些光輝的輪子旋轉(zhuǎn),
再度混合起杯中諸物;
沸騰吧,命運!遠(yuǎn)古的元素,
熱,冷,濕,干,還有和平,還有痛苦。
讓戰(zhàn)爭、貿(mào)易、教義、歌曲
結(jié)合,并日臻成熟,
人要撫育被太陽炙灼的世界
每一寸土地,和不可窮盡的年數(shù)。
光線不再黯淡,原子不再衰竭,
我亙古的力量完好如新,
鮮艷的玫瑰在遠(yuǎn)處的荊叢
用露珠透映彎曲的蒼穹。
實戰(zhàn)提升
背景知識
拉爾夫·瓦爾多·愛默生(Ralph Waldo Emerson),美國散文作家、思想家、詩人。他的詩歌、散文獨具特色,注重思想內(nèi)容而沒有過分注重詞藻的華麗,行文猶如格言,哲理深入淺出,說服力強,且有典型的“愛默生風(fēng)格”。有人這樣評價他的文字“愛默生似乎只寫警句”,他的文字所透出的氣質(zhì)難以形容:既充滿專制式的不容置疑,又具有開放式的民主精神;既有貴族式的傲慢,更具有平民式的直接;既清晰易懂,又常常夾雜著某種神秘主義。
單詞注解
innumerabIe[i'nju:m?r?bl]無數(shù)的;數(shù)不清的
deIuge['delju:d?]涌至;大量泛濫
saurian['s?:ri?n]蜥蜴的;蜥蜴狀的
cascade[k?s'keid]小瀑布
名句誦讀
Mine are the night and morning, The pits of air, the gulf of space, The sportive sun, the gibbous moon, The innumerable days.
l travail in pain for him, My creatures travail and wait;His couriers come by squadrons, He comes not to the gate.
No ray is dimmed, no atom worn, My oldest force is good as new, And the fresh rose on yonder thorn Gives back the bending heavens in dew.