VI

It is a theatre floating through the clouds,                  这是一个乌云密布的舞台，
Itself a cloud, although of misted rock                      云本身，尽管薄雾遮盖了岩石
And mountains running like water, wave on wave,     山峦如水般波浪起伏

Through waves of light. It is of cloud transformed     透过光波。在云间透射
To cloud transformed again, idly, the way                 云间透射，懒洋洋地转换一道
A season changes color to no end,                            季节变换的风景至终，

Except the lavishing of itself in change,                    除了变换本身之外，
As light changes yellow into gold and gold               当极光转黄至金黄
To its opal elements and fire’s delight,                    成为乳白色和激情之焰

Splashed wide-wise because it likes magnificence     宽广深远的华丽
And the solemn pleasures of magnificent space.       庄严、欢乐、宏伟
The cloud drifts idly through half thought of forms.  浮云若有所思地飘过。

The theatre is filled with flying birds,                       舞台上落满飞鸟，
Wild wedges, as of a volcano’s smoke, palm-eyed   迸发隆起，如火山孤烟，槟榔眼
And vanishing, a web in a corridor                          消失，廊间的网

Or massive portico. A capitol,                                或者厚重的廊柱。一座神殿，
It may be, is emerging or has just                           或许正在，形成或已经
Collapsed. The denouement has to be postponed.      坍塌。结局被迫推迟。

This is nothing until in a single man contained,          不要紧，会有个男人出现，
Nothing until this named thing nameless is                没什么，直到一个有名的无名英雄
And is destroyed. He opens the door of his house      被毁灭。他推开房门

On flames. The scholar of one candle sees                火焰冲天。就着烛光那学究看到
An Arctic effulgence flaring on the frame                  北极光辉灿烂地燃烧在骨架
Of everything he is. And he feels afraid.                     他所在之中。他开始感到害怕。

VII

Is there an imagination that sits enthroned                      在皇位上有想象吗？
As grim as it is benevolent, the just                                严酷如慈善，那正义
And the unjust, which in the midst of summer stops        那不公，在夏日逗留

To imagine winter? When the leaves are dead,                想象冬天？当树叶枯死，
Does it take its place in the north and enfold itself,          它们在北方被更换和折叠，
Goat-leaper, crystalled and luminous, sitting                   摩羯星跳跃而出，水晶般闪亮

In highest night? And do these heaves adorn                  悬在夜空？这些天空装饰
And proclaim it, the white creator of black, jetted           并宣告，创造黑色的白色造物主，黑色大理石般，
By extinguishings, even of planets as may be,                熄灭，在行星中，

Even of earth, even of sight, in snow,                           亦如地球，亦如我们所见之白雪，
Except as needed by way of majesty,                           除了必须，
In the sky, as crown and diamond cabala?                    在天空中，如王冠和宝石的秘密？

It leaps through us, through all our heavens leaps,         它跳跃而出，通天跳跃，
Extinguishing our planets, one by one,                          熄灭了行星，一颗一颗，
Leaving, of where we were and looked, of where          在我们视野中离别

We knew each other and of each other thought,            我们相知相思，
A shivering residue, chilled and foregone,                    最后一丝颤光，冷却了往昔，
Except for that crown and mystical cabala.                  除了王冠与神秘的法宝。

But it dare not leap by chance in its own dark.             但它在黑暗中也不能越雷池一步。
It must change from destiny to slight caprice.              它必须谨慎从事。
And thus its jetted tragedy, its stele                              这样它黑色的悲剧，它的柱石

And shape and mournful making move to find              成形，在悲哀的前行中发现
What must unmake it and, at last, what can,               什么使它撤回，最终，什么可以，
Say, a flippant communication under the moon.           比方说，在月亮下面絮叨。

VIII

There may be always a time of innocence.                  可能也有无害的时节。
There is never a place. Or if there is no time,              从来没有去处。或者说假如从未存在，
If it is not a thing of time, nor of place,                      假如不是时间，不是空间，

Existing in the idea of it, alone,                                   只是存在于意念之中，独自地，
In the sense against calamity, it is not                         感知灾难，并非
Less real. For the oldest and coldest philosopher,        不真实。因为最老最冷酷的哲学家，

There is or may be a time of innocence                      或许有无害的时节
As pure principle. Its nature is its end,                       只是出于纯粹的法则。它的本性即是终结，
That it should be, and yet not be, a thing                   那么就应该，但依然并非，一件事物

That pinches the pity of the pitiful man,                    这使那个可怜的人感到遗憾，
Like a book at evening beautiful but untrue,               象黄昏的书美丽而不真实，
Like a book on rising beautiful and true.                    象清晨的书美丽而真实。

It is like a thing of ether that exists                          它象以太一样存在
Almost as predicate. But it exists,                            几乎可以断言。但它确实是存在的，
It exists, it is visible, it is, it is.                                它存在着，可见，它在，它在。

So, then, these lights are not a spell of light,             因而，那么，这些光不是魅影，
A saying out of a cloud, but innocence.                   云间有话，只是无辜。
An innocence of the earth and no false sign              大地无辜无假

Or symbol of malice. That we partake thereof,          或恶意征兆。我们分享，
Lie down like children in this holiness,                      象孩子一样纯洁地躺下，
As if, awake, we lay in the quiet of sleep,                 仿佛，醒来，我们曾安然睡下，

As if the innocent mother sang in the dark                好象母亲在黑暗中吟唱
Of the room and on an accordion, half-heard,           在屋内，和着风琴，隐约地，
Created the time and place in which we breathed.     创造了我们生活的时间和空间。

IX

And of each other thought—in the idiom                  我们用熟悉的语言相思对方
Of the work, in the idiom of an innocent earth,         以作品，以无辜的大地的语言，
Not of the enigma of the guilty dream.                     而非一场有罪的迷梦。

We were as Danes in Denmark all day long                我们曾整天象丹麦人在丹麦一样
And knew each other well, hale-hearted landsmen,       熟知彼此，矍铄的老人，
For whom the outlandish was another day                 对他而言这异国情调有点象另外一天

Of the week, queerer than Sunday. We thought alike  的那周，比礼拜天还怪异。我们想着同样的
And that made brothers of us in a home                    在一个家里情同手足
In which we fed on being brothers, fed                    是同胞兄弟，

And fattened as on a decorous honey-comb.              犹如在一个蜜蜂巢中长大的幸运儿。
This drama that we live— We lay sticky with sleep.   我们演的这幕活剧——我们与绵羊一起入眠。
This sense of the activity of fate—                            命运的意义——

The rendezvous, when she came alone,                      集合点，当她独自来到，
By her coming became a freedom of the two,             伴随她而成为自由之一，
An isolation which only the two could share.               只能二者分享的唯一。

Shall we be found hanging in the trees next spring?      明年春天来到时我们会挂在树稍上吗？
Of what disaster in this the imminence:                      这迫近的威胁是一件多么可怕的灾难：
Bare limbs, bare trees and a wind as sharp as salt?      赤裸裸的四肢，赤裸裸的树木和风如咸盐般刺激？

The stars are putting on their glittering belts.               星光依然在猎户腰带上闪烁。
They throw around their shoulders cloaks that flash    他们甩过肩膀遮蔽了闪光
Like a great shadow’s last embellishment.                  象个巨大的阴影予以最后的装饰。

It may come to-morrow in the simplest word,           明天或许会有最单纯的词汇，
Almost as part of innocence, almost,                        几乎如无辜一样，几乎，
Almost as the tenderest and the truest part.                几乎是最温柔、最真实的。

X

An unhappy people in a happy world—                    不幸的人在幸福的世界——
Read, rabbi, the phases of this difference.                阅读，拉比，如此不同。
An unhappy people in an unhappy world—               不幸的人啊在不幸的世界——

Here are too many mirrors for misery.                    太多的不幸镜象。
A happy people in an unhappy world—                   有幸的人在不幸的世界——
It cannot be. There’s nothing there to roll                不可能。没什么可以继续

On the expressive tongue, the finding fang.            在三寸不烂之舌上，发现芳人。
A happy people in a happy world—                       幸运的人在幸福的世界上——
Buffo! A ball, an opera, a bar.                              滑稽！尽情地玩吧，一幕歌剧，酒吧。

Turn back to where we were when we began:        回到我们开始的地方：
An unhappy people in a happy world.                   不幸的人儿在幸福的世界。
No, solemnize the secretive syllables.                    不，隆重而秘密宣讲吧。

Read to the congregation, for to-day                  对着集会，就在今天
And for to-morrow, this extremity,                    至于明天，绝境，
This contrivance of the spectre of the spheres,   这人间的魅影，

Contriving balance to contrive, a whole,            只是为了平衡，整体，
The vital, the never-failing genius,                     生死攸关，从不失手的天才，
Fulfilling his meditations, great and small.           完成了他的沉思，仔仔细细的。

In these unhappy he meditates a whole,            在这些不幸中他全想过了，
The full of fortune and the full of fate,             运气与命运，
As if he lived all lives, that he might know,       似乎他体验了所有，他可能知晓的，

In hall harridan, not hushful paradise,                    在大堂里的老泼妇，不是寂静的天堂，
To a haggling of wind and weather, by these lights 为大风和气候而争吵，依着这些极光
Like a blaze of summer straw, in winter’s nick.      象夏日麦杆的燃烧，在冬至时节。