Tintern Abbey
Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey,on Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour.July 13,1798
by William Wordsworth
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone.
These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration:--feelings too
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,--
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
If this
Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft--
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart--
How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,
O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!
And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity,
The picture of the mind revives again:
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope,
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature led: more like a man
Flying from something that he dreads, than one
Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all.--I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.--That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompence. For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear,--both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
Of all my moral being.
Nor perchance,
If I were not thus taught, should I the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once,
My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make,
Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy: for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance--
If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence--wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love--oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!
丁登寺
威廉·華茲華斯
五年過去了；五個夏天，還有
五個漫長的冬天！并且我重又聽見
這些水聲，從山泉中滾流出來，
在內陸的溪流中柔聲低語。——我又一次
看到這些峻峭巍峨的山崖，
這一幕荒野的風景深深地留給
思想一個幽僻的印象；山水呀，
聯結著天空的那一片寧靜。
這一天到來，我重又在此休憩
在無花果樹的濃蔭之下，遠眺
村舍密布的田野，簇生的果樹園，
在這一個時令，果子呀尚未成熟，
披著一身蔥綠，將自己掩沒
在灌木叢和喬木林中。我又一次
看到樹籬，或許那并非樹籬，而是一行行
頑皮的樹精在野跑：這些田園風光，
一直綠到家門；裊繞的炊煙
靜靜地升起在樹林頂端！
它飄忽不定，仿佛是一些
漂泊者在無家的林中走動，
或許是有高人逸士的洞穴，孤獨地
坐在火焰旁。
這些美好的形體
雖然已經久違，我并不曾遺忘，
不是像盲者面對眼前的美景：
然而，當我獨居一室，置身于
城鎮的喧囂聲，深感疲憊之時，
它們卻帶來了甜蜜的感覺，
滲入血液，滲入心臟，
甚至進入我最純凈的思想，
使我恢復恬靜：——還有忘懷己久的
愉悅的感覺，那些個愉悅
或許對一個良善者最美好的歲月
有過遠非輕微和平凡的影響，
那是一些早經遺忘的無名瑣事，
卻飽含著善意與友愛。不僅如此，
我憑借它們還得到另一種能力，
具有更崇高的形態，一種滿足的愜意，
這整個神秘的重負，那不可理解的
世界令人厭倦的壓力，頓然間
減輕；一種恬靜而幸福的心緒，
聽從著柔情引導我們前進，
直到我們的肉軀停止了呼吸，
甚至人類的血液也凝滯不動，
我們的身體進入安眠狀態，
并且變成一個鮮活的靈魂，
這時，和諧的力量，欣悅而深沉的力量，
讓我們的眼睛逐漸變得安寧，
我們能夠看清事物內在的生命。
倘若這只是
一種虛妄的信念，可是，哦！如此頻繁——
在黑暗中，在以各種面目出現的
乏味的白天里；當無益的煩悶
和世界的熱病沉重地壓迫著
心臟搏動的每一個節奏——
如此頻繁，在精神上我轉向你，
啊，綠葉蔥蘢的懷河！你在森林中漫游，
我如此頻繁地在精神上轉向你。
而如今，思想之幽光明滅不定地閃爍，
許多熟悉的東西黯淡而迷蒙，
還帶著一絲悵惘的窘困，
心智的圖像又一次重現；
我站立在此，不僅感到了
當下的愉悅，而且還欣慰地想到
未來歲月的生命與糧食正蘊藏
在眼前的片刻間。于是，我膽敢這樣希望，
盡管我已不復當初，不再是新來乍到的
光景，即時我像這山上的一頭小鹿，
在山巒間跳躍，在大江兩岸
竄跑，在孤寂的小溪邊逗留，
聽憑大自然的引導：與其說像一個
在追求著所愛，倒莫如說正是
在躲避著所懼。因為那時的自然
（如今，童年時代粗鄙的樂趣，
和動物般的嬉戲已經消逝）
在我是一切的一切。——我那時的心境
難以描畫。轟鳴著的瀑布
像一種激情縈繞我心；巨石，
高山，幽晦茂密的森林，
它們的顏色和形體，都曾經是
我的欲望，一種情愫，一份愛戀，
不需要用思想來賦予它們
深邃的魅力，也不需要
視覺以外的情趣。——那樣的時光消逝，
一切摻合著苦痛的歡樂不復再現，
那令人暈眩的狂喜也已消失。我不再
為此沮喪，哀痛和怨訴；另一種能力
賦予了我，這一種損失呀，
已經得到了補償，我深信不疑。
因為我已懂得如何看待大自然，再不似
少不更事的青年；而是經常聽到
人生寧靜而憂郁的樂曲，
優雅，悅耳，卻富有凈化
和克制的力量。我感覺到
有什么在以崇高的思想之喜悅
讓我心動；一種升華的意念，
深深地融入某種東西，
仿佛正棲居于落日的余暉
浩瀚的海洋和清新的空氣，
蔚藍色的天空和人類的心靈：
一種動力，一種精神，推動著
思想的主體和思想的客體
穿過宇宙萬物，不停地運行。所以，
我依然熱愛草原，森林，和山巒；
一切這綠色大地能見的東西，
一切目睹耳聞的大千世界的
林林總總，——它們既有想象所造，
也有感覺所知。我欣喜地發現
在大自然和感覺的語言里，
隱藏著最純潔的思想之鐵錨，
心靈的護士、向導和警衛，以及
我整個精神生活的靈魂。
即便我并沒有
受到過這樣的教育，我也不會更多地
被這種溫和的精神所腐蝕，
因為有你陪伴著我，并且站立
在美麗的河畔，你呀，我最親愛的朋友，
親愛的，親愛的朋友；在你的嗓音里
我捕捉住從前心靈的語言，在你顧盼流轉的
野性的眼睛里，我再一次重溫了
往昔的快樂。啊！我愿再有一會兒
讓我在你身上尋覓過去的那個我，
我親愛的，親愛的妹妹！我要為此祈禱，
我知道大自然從來沒有背棄過
愛她的心靈；這是她特殊的恩典，
貫穿我們一生的歲月，從歡樂
引向歡樂；因為她能夠賦予
我們深藏的心智以活力，留給
我們寧靜而優美的印象，以崇高的
思想滋養我們，使得流言蜚語，
急躁的武斷，自私者的冷諷熱嘲，
缺乏同情的敷衍應付，以及
日常生活中全部枯燥的交往，
都不能讓我們屈服，不能損害
我們歡快的信念，毫不懷疑
我們所見的一切充滿幸福。因此，
讓月光照耀著你進行孤獨的漫游；
讓迷蒙蒙的山風自由地
吹拂你：如此，在往后的歲月里，
當這些狂野的驚喜轉化成
冷靜的愜意，當你的心智
變成一座集納眾美的大廈，
你的記憶像一個棲居的家園招引著
一切甜美而和諧的樂音；啊！那時，
即令孤獨，驚悸，痛苦，或哀傷成為
你的命運，你將依然懷著柔情的喜悅
順著這些健康的思路追憶起我，
和我這一番勸勉之言！即便我遠走他方，
再也聽不見你可愛的聲音，
再也不能在你野性的雙眸中
看見我往昔生活的光亮——你也不會
忘記我倆在這嫵媚的河畔
一度并肩站立；而我呀，一個
長期崇拜大自然的人，再度重臨，
虔敬之心未減：莫如說懷著
一腔更熱烈的愛情——啊！更淳厚的熱情，
更神圣的愛慕。你更加不會忘記，
經過多年的浪跡天涯，漫長歲月的
分離，這些高聳的樹林和陡峭的山崖，
這綠色的田園風光，更讓我感到親近，
這有它們自身的魅力，更有你的緣故。
（汪劍釗 譯）
詩人簡介威廉·華茲華斯簡介
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