艾略特的《荒原》
I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 10
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, 20
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust. 30
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
"They called me the hyacinth girl."
- Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, 40
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Od' und leer das Meer.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations. 50
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.
Unreal City, 60
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying "Stetson!
"You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! 70
"That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
"Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
"Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
"Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,
"Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!
"You! hypocrite lecteur! - mon semblable, - mon frere!"
II. A GAME OF CHESS
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Glowed on the marble, where the glass
Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines
From which a golden Cupidon peeped out 80
(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)
Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra
Reflecting light upon the table as
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,
From satin cases poured in rich profusion;
In vials of ivory and coloured glass
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,
Unguent, powdered, or liquid - troubled, confused
And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air
That freshened from the window, these ascended 90
In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,
Flung their smoke into the laquearia,
Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
Above the antique mantel was displayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 100
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
"Jug Jug" to dirty ears.
And other withered stumps of time
Were told upon the walls; staring forms
Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.
Footsteps shuffled on the stair.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be savagely still. 110
"My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
"Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
"What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
"I never know what you are thinking. Think."
I think we are in rats' alley
Where the dead men lost their bones.
"What is that noise?"
The wind under the door.
"What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?"
Nothing again nothing. 120
"Do
"You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember
"Nothing?"
I remember
Those are pearls that were his eyes.
"Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?"
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag -
It's so elegant
So intelligent 130
"What shall I do now? What shall I do?"
I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
"With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?
"What shall we ever do?"
The hot water at ten.
And if it rains, a closed car at four.
And we shall play a game of chess,
Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said -
I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself, 140
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Now Albert's coming back, make yourself a bit smart.
He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave you
To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.
You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,
He said, I swear, I can't bear to look at you.
And no more can't I, I said, and think of poor Albert,
He's been in the army four years, he wants a good time,
And if you don't give it him, there's others will, I said.
Oh is there, she said. Something o' that, I said. 150
Then I'll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
If you don't like it you can get on with it, I said.
Others can pick and choose if you can't.
But if Albert makes off, it won't be for lack of telling.
You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.
(And her only thirty-one.)
I can't help it, she said, pulling a long face,
It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.
(She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.) 160
The chemist said it would be alright, but I've never been the same.
You are a proper fool, I said.
Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said,
What you get married for if you don't want children?
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,
And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot -
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. 170
Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.
Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
III. THE FIRE SERMON
The river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf
Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed.
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed.
And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; 180
Departed, have left no addresses.
By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . .
Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.
But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.
A rat crept softly through the vegetation
Dragging its slimy belly on the bank
While I was fishing in the dull canal
On a winter evening round behind the gashouse 190
Musing upon the king my brother's wreck
And on the king my father's death before him.
White bodies naked on the low damp ground
And bones cast in a little low dry garret,
Rattled by the rat's foot only, year to year.
But at my back from time to time I hear
The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring
Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.
O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter
And on her daughter 200
They wash their feet in soda water
Et O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!
Twit twit twit
Jug jug jug jug jug jug
So rudely forc'd.
Tereu
Unreal City
Under the brown fog of a winter noon
Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant
Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants 210
C.i.f. London: documents at sight,
Asked me in demotic French
To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel
Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.
At the violet hour, when the eyes and back
Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits
Like a taxi throbbing waiting,
I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,
Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see
At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives 220
Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,
The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights
Her stove, and lays out food in tins.
Out of the window perilously spread
Her drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays,
On the divan are piled (at night her bed)
Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.
I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs
Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest -
I too awaited the expected guest. 230
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,
One of the low on whom assurance sits
As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.
The time is now propitious, as he guesses,
The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,
Endeavours to engage her in caresses
Which still are unreproved, if undesired.
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
Exploring hands encounter no defence; 240
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.
(And I Tiresias have foresuffered all
Enacted on this same divan or bed;
I who have sat by Thebes below the wall
And walked among the lowest of the dead.)
Bestows one final patronising kiss,
And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . .
She turns and looks a moment in the glass,
Hardly aware of her departed lover; 250
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
"Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over."
When lovely woman stoops to folly and
Paces about her room again, alone,
She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,
And puts a record on the gramophone.
"This music crept by me upon the waters"
And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.
O City city, I can sometimes hear
Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, 260
The pleasant whining of a mandoline
And a clatter and a chatter from within
Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls
Of Magnus Martyr hold
Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.
The river sweats
Oil and tar
The barges drift
With the turning tide
Red sails 270
Wide
To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.
The barges wash
Drifting logs
Down Greenwich reach
Past the Isle of Dogs.
Weialala leia
Wallala leialala
Elizabeth and Leicester
Beating oars 280
The stern was formed
A gilded shell
Red and gold
The brisk swell
Rippled both shores
Southwest wind
Carried down stream
The peal of bells
White towers
Weialala leia 290
Wallala leialala
"Trams and dusty trees.
Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew
Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees
Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe."
"My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart
Under my feet. After the event
He wept. He promised 'a new start'.
I made no comment. What should I resent?"
"On Margate Sands. 300
I can connect
Nothing with nothing.
The broken fingernails of dirty hands.
My people humble people who expect
Nothing."
la la
To Carthage then I came
Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest 310
burning
IV. DEATH BY WATER
Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
And the profit and loss.
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience 330
Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water 350
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water
Who is the third who walks always beside you? 360
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
- But who is that on the other side of you?
What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth 370
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal
A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light 380
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door swings, 390
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain
Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves
Waited for rain, while the black clouds
Gathered far distant, over Himavant.
The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
Then spoke the thunder 400
DA
Datta: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of prudence can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms 410
DA
Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
Only at nightfall, aetherial rumours
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus
DA
Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar 420
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands
I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?
London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down
Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina
Quando fiam ceu chelidon - O swallow swallow
Le Prince d'Aquitaine a la tour abolie 430
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo's mad againe.
Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.
Shantih shantih shantih
《荒原》是现代英美诗歌的里程碑,是象征主义文学中最有代表性的作品,是艾略特的成名作和影响最深远的作品。
枯萎的荒原象征着庸俗丑恶、虽生犹死的人们复活的希望,作为一条主线贯穿了全诗阴冷朦胧的画面,深刻地表现了人欲横渡、精神堕落、道德沦丧、生活卑劣猥琐、丑恶黑暗的西方社会的本来面貌,传达出第一次世界大战后西方人对世界、对现实的厌恶、普遍的失望情绪和幻灭感,表现了一代人的精神病态和精神危机,从而否定了现代西方文明。
同时。诗歌把西方社会的堕落归之于人的“原罪”,把恢复宗教精神当作拯救西方世界。拯救现代人的灵丹妙药,反映出艾略特思想上的保守和反动。
托马斯·斯特恩斯·艾略特(Thomas Stearns Eliot)(1888-1965),英国著名现代派诗人和文艺评论家。出生于美国密苏里州圣路易斯。
先祖是英国萨默塞特郡东克地方的鞋匠,1670迁移居美洲波士顿。他的祖父迁至圣路易斯, 创办华盛顿大学1872年任校长。父经商,母夏洛蒂· 斯特恩斯是诗人 。
他的家庭一直保持新英格兰加尔文教派的传统。1908年开始创作。
“是的,我自己亲眼看见古米的西比尔吊在一个笼子里。孩子们在问她:西比尔,你要什么的时候,她回答说,我要死。”
(献给埃兹拉·庞德最卓越的匠人)
一、死者葬礼
四月是最残忍的一个月,荒地上
长着丁香,把回忆和欲望
参合在一起,又让春雨
催促那些迟钝的根芽。
冬天使我们温暖,大地
给助人遗忘的雪覆盖着,又叫
枯干的球根提供少许生命。
夏天来得出人意外,在下阵雨的时候
来到了斯丹卜基西;我们在柱廊下躲避,
等太阳出来又进了霍夫加登,
喝咖啡,闲谈了一个小时。
我不是俄国人,我是立陶宛来的,是地道的德国人。
而且我们小时候住在大公那里
我表兄家,他带着我出去滑雪橇,
我很害怕。他说,玛丽,
玛丽,牢牢揪住。我们就往下冲。
在山上,那里你觉得自由。
大半个晚上我看书,冬天我到南方。
什么树根在抓紧,什么树根在从
这堆乱石块里长出?人子啊,
你说不出,也猜不到,因为你只知道
一堆破烂的偶像,承受着太阳的鞭打
枯死的树没有遮荫。蟋蟀的声音也不使人放心,
焦石间没有流水的声音。只有
这块红石下有影子,
(请走进这块红石下的影子)
我要指点你一件事,它既不像
你早起的影子,在你后面迈步;
也不像傍晚的,站起身来迎着你;
我要给你看恐惧在一把尘土里。
风吹得很轻快,
吹送我回家去,
爱尔兰的小孩,
你在哪里逗留?
“一年前你先给我的是风信子;
他们叫我做风信子的女郎”,
——可是等我们回来,晚了,从风信子的园里来,
你的臂膊抱满,你的头发湿漉,我说不出
话,眼睛看不见,我既不是
活的,也未曾死,我什么都不知道,
望着光亮的中心看时,是一片寂静。
荒凉而空虚是那大海。
马丹梭梭屈里士,著名的女相士,
患了重感冒,可仍然是
欧罗巴知名的最有智慧的女人,
带着一副恶毒的纸牌,这里,她说,
是你的一张,那淹死了的腓尼基水手,
(这些珍珠就是他的眼睛,看!)
这是贝洛多纳,岩石的女主人
一个善于应变的女人。
这人带着三根杖,这是“转轮”,
这是那独眼商人,这张牌上面
一无所有,是他背在背上的一种东西。
是不准我看见的。我没有找到
“那被绞死的人”。怕水里的死亡。
我看见成群的人,在绕着圈子走。
谢谢你。你看见亲爱的爱奎尔太太的时候
就说我自己把天宫图给她带去,
这年头人得小心啊。
并无实体的城,
在冬日破晓的黄雾下,
一群人鱼贯地流过伦敦桥,人数是那么多,
我没想到死亡毁坏了这许多人。
叹息,短促而稀少,吐了出来,
人人的眼睛都盯住在自己的脚前。
流上山,流下威廉王大街,
直到圣马利吴尔诺斯教堂,那里报时的钟声
敲着最后的第九下,阴沉的一声。
在那里我看见一个熟人,拦住他叫道:“斯代真!”
你从前在迈里的船上是和我在一起的!
去年你种在你花园里的尸首,
它发芽了吗?今年会开花吗?
还是忽来严霜捣坏了它的花床?
叫这狗熊星走远吧,它是人们的朋友,
不然它会用它的爪子再把它挖掘出来!
你!虚伪的读者!——我的同类——我的兄弟!
二、对弈
她所坐的椅子,像发亮的宝座
在大理石上放光,有一面镜子,
座上满刻着结足了果子的藤,
还有个黄金的小爱神探出头来
(另外一个把眼睛藏在翅膀背后)
使七枝光烛台的火焰加高一倍,
桌子上还有反射的光彩
缎盒里倾注出的炫目辉煌,
是她珠宝的闪光也升起来迎着;
在开着口的象牙和彩色玻璃制的
小瓶里,暗藏着她那些奇异的合成香料——膏状,粉状或液体的——使感觉
局促不安,迷惘,被淹没在香味里;受到
窗外新鲜空气的微微吹动,这些香气
在上升时,使点燃了很久的烛焰变得肥满,
又把烟缕掷上镶板的房顶,
使天花板的图案也模糊不清。
大片海水浸过的木料洒上铜粉
青青黄黄地亮着,四周镶着的五彩石上,
又雕刻着的海豚在愁惨的光中游泳。
那古旧的壁炉架上展现着一幅
犹如开窗所见的田野景物,
那是翡绿眉拉变了形,遭到了野蛮国王的
强暴:但是在那里那头夜莺
她那不容玷辱的声音充满了整个沙漠,
她还在叫唤着,世界也还在追逐着,
“唧唧”唱给脏耳朵听。
其它那些时间的枯树根
在墙上留下了记认;凝视的人像
探出身来,斜倚着,使紧闭的房间一片静寂。
楼梯上有人在拖着脚步走。
在火光下,刷子下,她的头发
散成了火星似的小点子
亮成词句,然后又转而为野蛮的沉寂。
“今晚上我精神很坏。是的,坏。陪着我。
跟我说话。为什么总不说话。说啊。
你在想什么?想什么?什么?
我从来不知道你在想什么。想。”
我想我们是在老鼠窝里,
在那里死人连自己的尸骨都丢得精光。
“这是什么声音?”
风在门下面。
“这又是什么声音?风在干什么?”
没有,没有什么。
“你
“你什么都不知道?什么都没看见?什么都
不记得?”
我记得
那些珍珠是他的眼睛。
“你是活的还是死的?你的脑子里竟没有什么?”
可是
噢噢噢噢这莎士比希亚式的爵士音乐——
它是这样文静
这样聪明
“我现在该做些什么?我该做些什么?
我就照现在这样跑出去,走在街上
披散着头发,就这样。我们明天该作些什么?
我们究竟该作些什么?”
十点钟供开水。
如果下雨,四点钟来挂不进雨的汽车。
我们也要下一盘棋,
按住不知安息的眼睛,等着那一下敲门的声音。
丽儿的丈夫退伍的时候,我说——
我毫不含糊,我自己就对她说,
请快些,时间到了
埃尔伯特不久就要回来,你就打扮打扮吧。
他也要知道给你镶牙的钱
是怎么花的。他给的时候我也在。
把牙都拔了吧,丽儿,配一副好的,
他说,实在的,你那样子我真看不得。
我也看不得,我说,替可怜的埃尔伯特想一想,
他在军队里耽了四年,他想痛快痛快,
你不让他痛快,有的是别人,我说。
啊,是吗,她说。就是这么回事。我说。
那我就知道该感谢谁了,她说,向我瞪了一眼。
请快些,时间到了
你不愿意,那就听便吧,我说。
你没有可挑的,人家还能挑挑拣拣呢。
要是埃尔伯特跑掉了,可别怪我没说。
你真不害臊,我说,看上去这么老相。
(她还只三十一。)
没办法,她说,把脸拉得长长的,
是我吃的那药片,为打胎,她说。
(她已经有了五个。小乔治差点送了她的命。)
药店老板说不要紧,可我再也不比从前了。
你真是个傻瓜,我说。
得了,埃尔伯特总是缠着你,结果就是如此,我说,
不要孩子你干吗结婚?
请快些,时间到了
说起来了,那天星期天埃尔伯特在家,他们吃滚烫的烧火腿,
他们叫我去吃饭,叫我乘热吃——
请快些,时间到了
请快些,时间到了
明儿见,毕尔。明儿见,璐。明儿见,梅。明儿见。
再见。明儿见,明儿见。
明天见,太太们,明天见,可爱的太太们,明天见,明天见。
三、火诫
河上树木搭成的蓬帐已破坏:树叶留下的最后手指
想抓住什么,又沉落到潮湿的岸边去了。那风
吹过棕黄色的大地,没人听见。仙女们已经走了。
可爱的泰晤士,轻轻地流,等我唱完了歌。
河上不再有空瓶子,加肉面包的薄纸,
绸手帕,硬的纸皮匣子,香烟头
或其他夏夜的证据。仙女们已经走了。
还有她们的朋友,最后几个城里老板们的后代;
走了,也没有留下地址。
在莱芒湖畔我坐下来饮泣……
可爱的泰晤士,轻轻地流,等我唱完了歌。
可爱的泰晤士,轻轻地流,我说话的声音不会大,也不会多。
可是在我身后的冷风里我听见
白骨碰白骨的声音,慝笑从耳旁传开去。
一头老鼠轻轻穿过草地
在岸上拖着它那粘湿的肚皮
而我却在某个冬夜,在一家煤气厂背后
在死水里垂钓
想到国王我那兄弟的沉舟
又想到在他之前的国王,我父亲的死亡。
白身躯赤裸裸地在低湿的地上,
白骨被抛在一个矮小而干燥的阁楼上,
只有老鼠脚在那里踢来踢去,年复一年。
但是在我背后我时常听见
喇叭和汽车的声音,将在
春天里,把薛维尼送到博尔特太太那里。
啊月亮照在博尔特太太
和她女儿身上是亮的
她们在苏打水里洗脚
啊这些孩子们的声音,在教堂里歌唱!
吱吱吱
唧唧唧唧唧唧
受到这样的强暴。
铁卢
并无实体的城
在冬日正午的黄雾下
尤吉尼地先生,哪个士麦那商人
还没光脸,袋里装满了葡萄干
到岸价格,伦敦:见票即付,
用粗俗的法语请我
在凯能街饭店吃午饭
然后在大都会度周末。
在那暮色苍茫的时刻,眼与背脊
从桌边向上抬时,这血肉制成的引擎在等侯
像一辆出租汽车颤抖而等候时,
我,帖瑞西士,虽然瞎了眼,在两次生命中颤动,
年老的男子却有布满皱纹的女性乳房,能在
暮色苍茫的时刻看见晚上一到都朝着
家的方向走去,水手从海上回到家,
打字员到喝茶的时候也回了家,打扫早点的残余,点燃了她的炉子,拿出罐头食品。
窗外危险地晾着
她快要晒干的内衣,给太阳的残光抚摸着,
沙发上堆着(晚上是她的床)
袜子,拖鞋,小背心和用以束紧身的内衣。
我,帖瑞西士,年老的男子长着皱褶的乳房
看到了这段情节,预言了后来的一切——
我也在等待那盼望着的客人。
他,那长疙瘩的青年到了,
一个小公司的职员,一双色胆包天的眼,
一个下流家伙,蛮有把握,
正像一顶绸帽扣在一个布雷德福的百万富翁头上。
时机现在倒是合式,他猜对了,
饭已经吃完,她厌倦又疲乏,
试着抚摸抚摸她
虽说不受欢迎,也没受到责骂。
脸也红了,决心也下了,他立即进攻;
探险的双手没遇到阻碍;
他的虚荣心并不需要报答,
还欢迎这种漠然的神情。
(我,帖瑞西士,都早就忍受过了,
就在这张沙发或床上扮演过的;
我,那曾在底比斯的墙下坐过的
又曾在最卑微的死人中走过的。)
最后又送上形同施舍似的一吻,
他摸着去路,发现楼梯上没有灯……
她回头在镜子里照了一下,
没大意识到她那已经走了的情人;
她的头脑让一个半成形的思想经过:
“总算玩了事:完了就好。”
美丽的女人堕落的时候,又
在她的房里来回走,独自
她机械地用手抚平了头发,又随手
在留声机上放上一张片子。
“这音乐在水上悄悄从我身旁经过”
经过斯特兰德,直到女王维多利亚街。
啊,城啊城,我有时能听见
在泰晤士下街的一家酒店旁
那悦耳的曼陀铃的哀鸣
还有里面的碗盏声,人语声
是渔贩子到了中午在休息:那里
殉道堂的墙上还有
难以言传的伊沃宁的荣华,白的与金黄色的。
长河流汗
流油与焦油
船只漂泊
顺着来浪
红帆
大张
顺风而下,在沉重的桅杆上摇摆。
船只冲洗
漂流的巨木
流到格林威治河区
经过群犬岛。
Weialala leia
Wallala leialala
伊丽莎白和莱斯特
打着桨
船尾形成
一枚镶金的贝壳
红而金亮
活泼的波涛
使两岸起了细浪
西南风
带到下游
连续的钟声
白色的危塔
Weialala leia
Wallala leialala
“电车和堆满灰尘的树。
海勃里生了我。里其蒙和邱
毁了我。在里其蒙我举起双膝
仰卧在独木舟的船底。
“我的脚在摩尔该,我的心
在我的脚下。那件事后
他哭了。他答应‘重新做人’。
我不作声。我该怨恨什么呢?”
“在马该沙滩
我能够把
乌有和乌有联结在一起
脏手上的破碎指甲。
我们是伙下等人,从不指望
什么。”
啊呀看哪
于是我到迦太基来了
烧啊烧啊烧啊烧啊
主啊你把我救拔出来
主啊你救拔
烧啊
四、水里的死亡
腓尼基人弗莱巴斯,死了已两星期,
忘记了水鸥的鸣叫,深海的浪涛
利润与亏损。
海下一潮流
在悄声剔净他的骨。在他浮上又沉下时
他经历了他老年和青年的阶段
进入漩涡。
外邦人还是犹太人
啊你转着舵轮朝着风的方向看的,
回顾一下弗莱巴斯,他曾经是和你一样漂亮、高大的。
五、雷霆的话
火把把流汗的面庞照得通红以后
花园里是那寒霜般的沉寂以后
经过了岩石地带的悲痛以后
又是叫喊又是呼号
监狱宫殿和春雷的
回响在远山那边震荡
他当时是活着的现在是死了
我们曾经是活着的现在也快要死了
稍带一点耐心
这里没有水只有岩石
岩石而没有水而有一条沙路
那路在上面山里绕行
是岩石堆成的山而没有水
若还有水我们就会停下来喝了
在岩石中间人不能停止或思想
汗是干的脚埋在沙土里
只要岩石中间有水
死了的山满口都是龋齿吐不出一滴水
这里的人既不能站也不能躺也不能坐
山上甚至连静默也不存在
只有枯干的雷没有雨
山上甚至连寂寞也不存在
只有绛红阴沉的脸在冷笑咆哮
在泥干缝猎的房屋的门里出现
只要有水
而没有岩石
若是有岩石
也有水
有水
有泉
岩石间有小水潭
若是只有水的响声
不是知了
和枯草同唱
而是水的声音在岩石上
那里有蜂雀类的画眉在松树间歌唱
点滴点滴滴滴滴
可是没有水
谁是那个总是走在你身旁的第三人?
我数的时候,只有你和我在一起
但是我朝前望那白颜色的路的时候
总有另外一个在你身旁走
悄悄地行进,裹着棕黄色的大衣,罩着头
我不知道他是男人还是女人
——但是在你另一边的那一个是谁?
这是什么声音在高高的天上
是慈母悲伤的呢喃声
这些带头罩的人群是谁
在无边的平原上蜂拥而前,在裂开的土地上蹒跚而行
只给那扁平的水平线包围着
山的那边是哪一座城市
在紫色暮色中开裂、重建又爆炸
倾塌着的城楼
耶路撒冷雅典亚力山大
维也纳伦敦
并无实体的
一个女人紧紧拉直着她黑长的头发
在这些弦上弹拨出低声的音乐
长着孩子脸的蝙蝠在紫色的光里
嗖嗖地飞扑着翅膀
又把头朝下爬下一垛乌黑的墙
倒挂在空气里的那些城楼
敲着引起回忆的钟,报告时刻
还有声音在空的水池、干的井里歌唱。
在山间那个坏损的洞里
在幽黯的月光下,草儿在倒塌的
坟墓上唱歌,至于教堂
则是有一个空的教堂,仅仅是风的家。
它没有窗子,门是摆动着的,
枯骨伤害不了人。
只有一只公鸡站在屋脊上
咯咯喔喔咯咯喔喔
刷的来了一炷闪电。然后是一阵湿风
带来了雨
恒河水位下降了,那些疲软的叶子
在等着雨来,而乌黑的浓云
在远处集合在喜马望山上。
丛林在静默中拱着背蹲伏着。
然后雷霆说了话
DA
Datta:我们给了些什么?
我的朋友,热血震动着我的心
这片刻之间献身的非凡勇气
是一个谨慎的时代永远不能收回的
就凭这一点,也只有这一点,我们是存在了
这是我们的讣告里找不到的
不会在慈祥的蛛网披盖着的回忆里
也不会在瘦瘦的律师拆开的密封下
在我们空空的屋子里
DA
Dayadhvam:我听见那钥匙
在门里转动了一次,只转动了一次
我们想到这把钥匙,各人在自己的监狱里
想着这把钥匙,各人守着一座监狱
只在黄昏的时候,世外传来的声音
才使一个已经粉碎了的柯里欧莱纳思一度重生
DA
Damyata:那条船欢快地
作出反应,顺着那使帆用桨老练的手
海是平静的,你的心也会欢快地
作出反应,在受到邀请时,会随着
引导着的双手而跳动
我坐在岸上
垂钓,背后是那片干旱的平原
我应否至少把我的田地收拾好?
伦敦桥塌下来了塌下来了塌下来了
然后,他就隐身在炼他们的火里,
我什么时候才能象燕子——啊,燕子,燕子,
阿基坦的王子在塔楼里受到废黜
这些片断我用来支撑我的断垣残壁
那么我就照办吧。希罗尼母又发疯了。
舍己为人。同情。克制。
平安。平安
平安。
赵萝蕤 译
《荒原》是美国诗人T.S.艾略特的一首长诗,创作于1921年,在当时一经问世就在文学界引起了轰动,被誉为20世纪最伟大的诗篇之一。这首长诗描绘了充满空虚、荒凉和绝望的世界,人们的生活被玷污、被废弃,他们只能在荒野之中寻找生存的意义。艾略特通过借鉴文学、历史、宗教等各种资源,以多种形态来展现丰富的文化内涵,既包含了传统文化的痕迹,也将现代文化的冲击与传统文化的碰撞共同展现,让这首诗歌的意义得以倍增。整首诗歌体裁多样,独具一格,由五段组成。每一段都呈现出不同的、声音、图像和体验,从中反映出人类的孤独、疏离和精神困境。全诗文笔流畅、简洁、深刻,构思严密、精练,富有哲学思考和文化内涵,成为现代主义诗歌的代表作之一,至今被广泛研究和赏析。
夜航船好词佳句
有趣 风趣 坚韧耐用 滑稽 一叶扁舟 趣味 倘若 困倦 暮色苍然 趣味 倘若 犬吠鸡鸣 行动自如 惆怅 珍重 《乌蓬船》中的好句 篷是半圆形的,用竹片编成,中夹竹箬,上涂黑油,在两扇“定篷”之间放着一扇遮阳,也是半圆的,木作格子,嵌着一片片的小鱼鳞,径约一寸,颇有点透明,略似玻璃而坚韧耐用,这就称为明瓦...
《围城》为什么被誉为新《儒林外史》?
《围城》被誉为现代的《儒林外史》,是因为钱钟书在这部小说中淋漓尽致地讽刺了知识分子。作者在小说中刻画了一大批三四十年代的知识分子形象。他们游离于当时的抗日烽火之外,虽然都是留学归来,受到了西方文化的熏陶,但他们没有远大的理想,又缺乏同传统势力和思想斗争的勇气,结果甚至无法把握自己的生活...
丁香在古诗词里表达什么?{在线等}
以往的评论认为《雨巷》“丁香”意象出自李璟《浣溪沙》“青鸟不传云外信,丁香空结雨中愁”,因而更多地读出了《雨巷》所传达的“愁怨”和“惆怅”,而蓝先生认为《雨巷》中的“丁香”本自《荒原》,因而认为它暗示了“残忍”的题旨。 我认为这两种论述都有点道理,但也都有偏颇的地方。因为它们都是“诗外看(证)...
玻利维亚的文化
后者的浪漫主义诗作《马摩雷序曲》富有浓郁的乡土气息。戏剧方面以费利克斯·雷耶斯·奥尔蒂斯 (1828~1884) 和何塞·罗森多·古铁雷斯(1840~1883)为代表。在小说方面有擅长写作感伤小说的作家曼努埃尔·加西亚·卡瓦列罗(1819~1866),以殖民时期为主要背景的历史小说家马里亚诺·里卡多·特拉萨斯(1841~...
课文老人与海
20年代是海明威文学创作的早期,他写出了《在我们的时代里》、《春潮》、《没有女人的男人》和长篇小说《太阳照样升起》、《永别了,武器》等作品。这一时期,正值西方世界沉沦为爱略特在社会崩溃背后所看到的荒原时期,长篇小说《太阳照样升起》就是写战后一群流落欧洲的青年的生活情景以及他们精神世界的深刻变化。小说...
〈老人与海〉写作背景及作者介绍
50年代后,他继续发展20年代短篇小说《打不败的人》和《五万大洋》的宁折不弯主题,塑造了以桑提亚哥为代表的可以把他消灭,但就是打不败他”的硬汉性格”(代表作中篇小说《老人与海》1950)。在艺术上,他那简约有力的文体和多种现代派手法的出色运用,在美国文学中曾引起过一场文学革命”,许多欧美...
《老人与海》的内容
20年代是海明威文学创作的早期,他写出了《在我们的时代里》、《春潮》、《没有女人的男人》和长篇小说《太阳照样升起》、《永别了,武器》等作品。这一时期,正值西方世界沉沦为爱略特在社会崩溃背后所看到的荒原时期,长篇小说《太阳照样升起》就是写战后一群流落欧洲的青年的生活情景以及他们精神世界的深刻变化。小说...
美国电影的负面影响
然而,受迫害的电影界人士还是克服重重困难摄制出描写锌矿工人罢工的影片《社会中坚》(1954,H.比伯曼导演)。美国电影的黄金时代结束之后,各大公司从60年代中期开始逐个解体或转产,海斯法典也被正式废除。为挽颓势,出现了微型影院、艺术影院、汽车影院。独立制片及实验电影有了发展。
钱钟书的《围城》告诉我们一个什么道理?我们从中学到什么?
二是嘲讽对西方文化的生搬硬套,“活像那第一套中国裁缝仿制的西装,把做样子的外国人旧衣服上两方补丁,照式在衣袖和裤子上做了”,如曹元朗摹仿“爱利恶德”(艾略特)《荒原》的《拚盘姘伴》诗,又如买办张先生式的洋泾滨。三是探讨对西方文明和西方文化的吸收中的荒诞,如方鸿渐在家乡中学演讲时所...
有你,荒原便是天堂。
《鲁拜集》精选:感受生命的细味。1 树荫下放着一卷诗章,一瓶葡萄美酒,一点干粮,有你在这荒原中傍我欢歌——荒原呀,啊便是天堂!2 飘飘入世,如水之不得不流,不知何故来,亦不知来自何处;飘飘出世,如风之不得不吹,风吹过漠地亦不知吹向何许。3 倘若你魂能离壳,赤裸地凌虚御风,常...
住版施博:[答案] 20世纪象征主义作家艾略特创作的《荒原》作为现代派诗歌的登峰造极之作,其艺术形式与表现特征有其独到之处. 1内心独白的运用. 2广泛地运用自由联想. 3把诗中的人物放到戏剧化的场景中. 4诗人通过感人的形象去暗示那些无法或者无需表达的...
宜昌市13252615012: 分析《荒原》的主题和艺术特色 - ?
住版施博:[答案] 论述《荒原》的思想内容和艺术特色思想内容:20世纪象征主义作家艾略特创作的《荒原》是诗人把他对西方文化困境的感受上升到哲理的高度,经过意识融合所展示出的既有戏剧色彩又富于启示录式的内心独白. 1、它以深刻的...
宜昌市13252615012: 求艾略特的《荒原》电子书下载,中英文都行,最好双语 - ?
住版施博: 艾略特《荒原》(英)-------- http://www.neizai.com/viewthread.php?tid=5435 节选自托·斯·艾略特《荒原》(中英) http://www.musicflys.com/blog/user1/cainchord/archives/2006/1745.html
宜昌市13252615012: 艾略特《荒原》全文??
住版施博: 荒原(译作及原诗)pdf下载:http://ishare.iask.sina.com.cn/f/14726563.html
宜昌市13252615012: 找艾略特《荒原》原文及译文! - ?
住版施博: http://blog.sina.com.cn/s/blog_4a8e76ee01008rqh.html从原文诗歌中摘录的解读艾略特的阅读重点标记之处.是无所不至的节奏和背谬,让我们得以揭开荒原之所以为荒原之迷.记住,是背谬,是否定句式,是语义本身和之外双层涵义到达的诗歌之至境! 相信如果你想读懂艾略特《荒原》原文及译文,也需要参看相关的资料.
宜昌市13252615012: “……我说不出话,眼睛看不见,我既不是活的,也未曾死,我什么都不知道,望着光亮的中心看时,是一片寂静.荒凉而空虚是那大海.”(艾略特《荒原... - ?
住版施博:[选项] A. 浪漫主义文学作品 B. 现实主义文学作品 C. 现代主义文学作品 D. 民族主义文学作品
宜昌市13252615012: 1、为什么艾略特的《荒原》被西方评论家看成是现代诗歌的里程碑? - ?
住版施博: 艾略特的《荒原》被公认为西方文学史上一部具有划时代意义的杰作,是二十世纪现代派诗歌的一个重要里程碑. 原因 (1) 意象繁杂,大量引用典故和神话故事,并罕见地在诗中插入6种语言,诗中引用的神话和典故包含东西方35个作家56部...
宜昌市13252615012: 求艾略特 荒原 的原文和译文 完整版的.希望不是链接啊.?
住版施博: The Waste Land,网址如下 http://www.zn8398.com/zn_article/Html/?32152.html