THE WHITE BIRDS 白鸟

--by: W.B. Yeats

WOULD that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam¹ of the sea!

We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;

And the flame of the blue star of twilight², hung low on the rim³ of the sky,

Has awakened⁴ in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.

亲爱的，但愿我们是浪尖上一双白鸟！

流星尚未陨逝，我们已厌倦了它的闪耀；

天边低悬，晨光里那颗蓝星的幽光

唤醒了你我心中，一缕不死的忧伤。

A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;

Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,

Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:

For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!

露湿的百合、玫瑰梦里逸出一丝困倦；

呵，亲爱的，可别梦那流星的闪耀，

也别梦那蓝星的幽光在滴露中低徊：

但愿我们化作浪尖上的白鸟：我和你！

I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,

Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;

Soon far from the rose and the lily, and fret⁵ of the flames would we be,

Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed⁶ out on the foam of the sea!

我心头萦绕着无数岛屿和丹南湖滨，

在那里岁月会以遗忘我们，悲哀不再来临；

转瞬就会远离玫瑰、百合和星光的侵蚀，

只要我们是双白鸟，亲爱的，出没在浪花里！

－－傅浩 译