Spelade
-
To——
P. B. Shelley
One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it,
One feeling too falsely distained
For thee to distain it;
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
And pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.
I can give not what men call love,
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above
And the Heavens reject not, ——
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?
致...
雪莱
有一个字被太多人滥用,
我不愿再滥用它;
有一种感情太不被看重,
你岂能再轻视它;
有一种希望太似绝望,
世俗的慎重也无法压碎它;
只求怜悯起自你心上,
对我比什么万分珍贵。
我无法奉献那被称作爱情之物,
但你该不致见外
我从心底呈上崇拜,
连上天对它都肯垂青!
有如飞蛾向往星天,
暗夜想拥抱天明,
怎能不让悲惨的尘寰
对遥远事物倾心?
Colette有话说:
波西·别希·雪莱(1792-1822),英国浪漫主义诗人。由于散发《无神论的必然》,入学不足一年就被牛津大学开除。1818年至1819年完成了两部重要的长诗《解放了的普罗米修斯》和《倩契》,以及其不朽的名作《西风颂》。因私生活为社会不容,远走意大利,不久在海上遇难身亡,年方三十。