评论
打印
"Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill,
“我的表情冷峻，我的孩子！我很冷，
As to my bosom I have tried to press thee!
因为我想将你拥入怀中！
How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,
我如何能习惯我颤动的脉搏，
Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee,
像一根绷紧的琴弦，渴望爱抚你，
And hear thy sweet 'My father!' from those dumb and cold lips, Absalom!
听到你冰冷的嘴唇甜蜜地说出‘我的父亲！‘”
"The grave hath won thee! I shall hear the gush of music, and the voices of the young;
“你已经进入了坟墓！我应该聆听音乐和年轻人的声音；
And life will pass me in the mantling blush,
经历了生活的我将会满脸通红
And the dark tresses to the soft flung;—
黑色柔软的长发在舞动；——
But thou no more with thy sweet voice shalt come
但是你再也不能带着甜美的声音
To meet me, Absalom!
来见我,押沙龙！”
"And oh! when I am stricken, and my heart,
“噢！我绝望时，我的心就像是一根裂开的芦苇，
Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken,
等待着被打碎，
How will its love for thee, as I depart,
我离开后，他会如何爱你，
Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token!
渴望你的耳朵能喝掉这最后深邃的象征！
It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom,
它是如此甜美，在积聚的死亡阴影中
To see thee, Absalom!
看见你，押沙龙！”
"And now, farewell!'Tis hard to give thee up,
“现在，该说再见了！跟你说再见很难，
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee!—
你死了，就像是软绵绵地睡着了！——
And thy dark sin!—oh! I could drink the cup,
你那发黑的肤色！——噢！我可以饮尽杯中酒，
If from this woe its bitterness had won thee.
如果从这种悲痛比你还痛苦。
May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home,
但愿是上帝将你呼唤回家，像呼唤一个游子，
My lost boy, Absalom!"
我死去的孩子，押沙龙！”
He covered up his face, and bowed himself a moment on his child;
他将他的脸盖上，像他的孩子鞠了一个躬；
then, giving him a look of melting tenderness,
随后满怀深情地看了他一眼
he clasped his hands convulsively,as if in prayer.
他突然十指紧扣，像是在祈祷。
And, as if strength were given him of God,
好像上帝赐予了他力量，
He rose up calmly, and composed the pall firmly and decently,and left him there,
他慢慢地起身，坚定而得体地盖上了棺材，——
As if his rest had been a breathing sleep.
好像里面得人只是在沉睡。
