To a Skylark
To A Skylark
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun
O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
Thou dost float and run,
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of Heaven
In the broad daylight
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight:
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere,
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear
Until we hardly see--we feel that it is there.
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud.
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.
What thou art we know not;
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Like a poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:
Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden
Its aerial hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:
Like a rose embowered
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflowered,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves.
Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awakened flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Teach us, sprite or bird,
What sweet thoughts are thine:
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Chorus hymeneal
Or triumphal chaunt
Matched with thine, would be all
But an empty vaunt--
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
What objects are the fountains
Of thy happy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
With thy clear keen joyance
Languor cannot be:
Shadow of annoyance
Never came near thee:
Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow
The world should listen then, as I am listening now!
致云雀
江楓 譯
你好啊，歡樂的精靈！
你似乎從不是飛禽，
從天堂或天堂的鄰近，
以酣暢淋漓的樂音，
不事雕琢的藝術，傾吐你的衷心。
向上，再向高處飛翔，
從地面你一躍而上，
象一片烈火的輕云，
掠過蔚藍的天心，
永遠歌唱著飛翔，飛翔著歌唱。
地平線下的太陽，
放射出金色的電光，
晴空里霞蔚云蒸，
你沐浴著陽光飛行，
似不具形體的喜悅剛開始迅疾的遠征。
淡淡的紫色黎明
在你航程周圍消融，
象晝空里的星星，
雖然不見形影，
卻可以聽得清你那歡樂的強音——
那犀利無比的樂音，
似銀色星光的利箭，
它那強烈的明燈，
在晨曦中暗淡，
直到難以分辨，卻能感覺到就在空間。
整個大地和大氣，
響徹你婉轉的歌喉，
仿佛在荒涼的黑夜，
從一片孤云背后，
明月射出光芒，清輝洋溢宇宙。
我們不知，你是什么，
什么和你最為相似？
從霓虹似的彩霞
也降不下這樣美的雨，
能和當你出現時降下的樂曲甘霖相比。
象一位詩人，隱身
在思想的明輝之中，
吟誦著即興的詩韻，
直到普天下的同情
都被未曾留意過的希望和憂慮喚醒。
象一位高貴的少女，
居住在深宮的樓臺，
在寂寞難言的時刻，
排遣她為愛所苦的情懷，
甜美有如愛情的歌曲，溢出閨閣之外；
象一只金色的螢火蟲，
在凝露的深山幽谷，
不顯露它的行蹤，
把晶瑩的流光傳播，
在遮斷我們視線的芳草鮮花叢中；
象一朵讓自己的綠葉
陰蔽著的玫瑰，
遭受到熱風的摧殘，
直到它的芳菲
以過濃的香甜使魯莽的飛賊沉醉；
晶瑩閃爍的草地，
春霖灑落的聲息，
雨后蘇醒的花瓣，
稱得上明朗，歡悅，
清新的一切，都不及你的音樂。
飛禽或是精靈，有什么
甜美的思緒在你心頭？
我從沒有聽到過
愛情或是淳酒的頌歌
能夠迸涌出這樣神圣的極樂音流。
贊婚的合唱也罷，
凱旋的歡歌也罷，
和你的樂曲相比，
不過是空調的浮夸，
人們可以覺察，其中總有著貧乏。
什么樣的物象或事件，
是你歡樂樂曲的源泉？
什么田野、波濤、山巒？
什么空中陸上的形態？
是你對同類的愛，還是對痛苦的絕緣？
有你明澈強烈的歡快。
倦怠永不會出現，
煩惱的陰影從來
近不得你的身邊，
你愛，卻從不知曉過分充滿愛的悲哀。
是醒來或是睡去，
你對死的理解一定比
我們凡人夢想到的
更加深刻真切，否則
你的樂曲音流，怎能象液態的水晶涌瀉？
我們瞻前顧后，為了
不存在的事物自擾，
我們最真摯的笑，
也交織著某種苦惱，
我們最美的音樂是最能傾訴哀思的曲調。
可是，即使我們能擯棄
憎恨、傲慢和恐懼，
即使我們生來不會
拋灑一滴眼淚，
我也不知，怎能接近于你的歡愉。
比一切歡樂的音律
更加甜蜜美妙，
比一切書中的寶庫
更加豐盛富饒，
這就是鄙棄塵土的你啊，你的藝術技巧。
教給我一半，你的心
必定熟知的歡欣，
和諧、熾熱的激情
就會流出我的雙唇，
全世界就會象此刻的我——側耳傾聽。
《致云雀》是詩人抒情詩的代表作。詩歌運用浪漫主義的手法，熱情地贊頌了云雀。在詩人的筆下，云雀是歡樂、光明、美麗的象征。詩人運用比喻、類比、設問的方式，對云雀加以描繪。他把云雀比作詩人，比作深閨中的少女，比作螢火蟲，使云雀美麗的形象生動地展現在讀者的面前。詩人把云雀的歌聲同春雨、婚禮上的合唱、勝利的歌聲相比，突出云雀歌聲所具有的巨大力量。詩歌節奏短促、輕快、流暢、激昂，節與節之間，環環相扣，層層推進，極具藝術感染力。
珀西·比希·雪萊簡介
資源下載朗讀音頻下載
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