Hap
If but some vengeful god would call to me
From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing,
Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy,
That thy Love's loss is my hate's profiting!"
Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die,
Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited;
Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I
Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.
But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain,
And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?
— Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain,
And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan…
These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown
Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.
1866
偶然
但求有个复仇之神从天上喊我，
并且大笑着说：“受苦受难的东西！
要明白：你的痛苦就是我的娱乐，
你的爱之亏损就是我的恨之赢利！”
那时啊，我将默然忍受，坚持至死，
在不公正的神谴之下心如铁石；
同时又因我所流的全部眼泪
均由比我更强者判决，而稍感宽慰。
可惜，并无此事。为什么欢乐遭杀戮，
为什么播下的美好希望从未实现？
——是纯粹的偶然遮住了阳光雨露，
掷*子骰**的时运不掷欢欣却掷出悲叹……
这些盲目的裁判本来能在我的旅途
播撒幸福，并不比播撒痛苦更难。
1866年
A Confession to a Friend in Trouble
Your troubles shrink not, though I feel them less
Here, far away, than when I tarried near;
I even smile old smiles — with listlessness —
Yet smiles they are, not ghastly mockeries mere.
A thought too strange to house within my brain
Haunting its outer precincts I discern:
— That I will not show zeal again to learn
Your griefs, and, sharing them, renew my pain…
It goes, like murky bird or buccaneer
That shapes its lawless figure on the main,
And staunchness tends to banish utterly
The unseemly instinct that had lodgment here;
Yet, comrade old, can bitterer knowledge be
Than that, though banned, such instinct was in me!
1866
向逆境中的友人坦承
自从我远离后，我对你的逆境
感受减弱了，尽管逆境并未改善；
我甚至露出了旧日的笑容，漠然，
但毕竟是微笑，不是咧嘴的嘲弄。
一个念头太出格，我脑中难容，
但我察觉，它在周遭萦绕不散：
我不想再热衷打听你的辛酸，
免得与你分忧，而重新惹我悲痛……
这念头多么像不祥之鸟或海盗——
逍遥法外的身影在海上漂游，
忠诚的心啊，一心想彻底赶开
这一盘踞此地的不体面的念头；
可是，老友啊，有这种下意识存在，
即使驱走了，我心中何等难受！
1866年
Neutral Tones
We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though chidden by God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod;
— They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing…
Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.
1867
灰色调
那个冬日，我俩站在池边，
太阳苍白得像遭了上帝责备，
枯萎的草坪上几片树叶发灰，
那是一棵白腊树落下的叶片。
你看我的双眼，仿佛是在看
多年前已猜破了的沉闷的谜；
你我间交换的几句文字游戏
把我们的爱贬损得更加惨淡。
你唇上的微笑充满死的滋味，
它的活力刚刚够赴死之用，
其中掠过一抹枯涩的影踪，
像一只不祥的鸟在飞……
辛酸的一课啊：爱情善欺善毁，
这一课从此为我画出你的面目，
画出上帝诅咒的太阳，一棵树，
还有灰色落叶镶边的一池水。
1867年
She at His Funeral
They bear him to his resting-place—
In slow procession sweeping by;
I follow at a stranger's space;
His kindred they, his sweetheart I.
Unchanged my gown of garish dye,
Though sable-sad is their attire;
But they stand round with griefless eye,
Whilst my regret consumes like fire!
187_
她在他的葬礼上
他们把他抬向安息之地——
延伸的队列缓慢地行进；
我是陌生人，隔着一段距离；
他们是亲属，我只是情人。
我没有换掉我的花衣裳，
尽管他们的丧服是一片黑色；
但他们围着，眼光毫不悲伤，
而吞噬我的是遗恨之火！
187_年
The Dance at the Phoenix
To Jenny came a gentle youth
From inland leazes lone,
His love was fresh as apple-blooth
By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone.
And duly he entreated her
To be his tender minister,
And take him for her own.
Now Jenny's life had hardly been
A life of modesty;
At few in Casterbridge had seen
More loves of sorts than she
From scarcely sixteen years above;
Among them sundry troopers of
The King's-Own Cavalry.
But each with charger, sword, and gun,
Had bluffed the Biscay wave;
And Jenny prized her rural one
For all the love he gave.
She vowed to be, if they were wed,
His honest wife in heart and head
From bride-ale hour to grave.
Wedded they were. Her husband's trust
In Jenny knew no bound,
And Jenny kept her pure and just,
Till even malice found
No sin or sign of ill to be
In one who walked so decently
The duteous helpmate's round.
Two sons were born, and bloomed to men,
And roamed, and were as not:
Alone was Jenny left again
As ere her mind had sought
A solace in domestic joys,
And ere the vanished pair of boys
Were sent to sun her cot.
She numbered near to sixty years,
And passed as elderly,
When, on a day, with flushing fears,
She learnt from shouts of glee,
And shine of swords and thump of drum,
Her early loves from war had come,
The King's-Own Cavalry.
She turned aside, and bowed her head
Anigh Saint Peter's door;
"Alas for chastened thoughts!" she said;
"I'm faded now, and hoar,
And yet those notes — they thrill me through,
And those gay forms move me anew
As they moved me of yore!"…
'Twas Christmas, and the Phoenix Inn
Was lit with tapers tall,
For thirty of the trooper men
Had vowed to give a ball
As "Theirs" had done ('twas handed down)
When lying in the self-same town
Ere Buonaparté's fall.
That night the throbbing "Soldier's Joy",
The measured tread and sway
Of "Fancy-Lad" and "Maiden Coy",
Reached Jenny as she lay
Beside her spouse; till springtide blood
Seemed scouring through her like a flood
That whisked the years away.
She rose, arrayed, and decked her head
Where the bleached hairs grew thin;
Upon her cap two bows of red
She fixed with hasty pin;
Unheard descending to the street
She trod the flags with tune-led feet,
And stood before the Inn.
Save for the dancers', not a sound
Disturbed the icy air;
No watchman on his midnight round
Or traveller was there;
But over All-Saints', high and bright,
Pulsed to the music Sirius white,
The Wain towards Bullstake Square.
She knocked, but found her further stride
Checked by a sergeant's call:
"Gay Granny, whence come you?" he cried;
"This is a private ball."
— "No one has more right here than me!
Ere you were born, man," answered she,
"I knew the regiment all!"
"Take not the lady's visit ill!"
The steward said; "for, see,
We lack sufficient partners still,
So, prithee let her be!"
They seized and whirled her 'mid the maze,
And Jenny felt as in the days
Of her immodesty.
Hour chased each hour, and night advanced;
She sped as shod with wings;
Each time and every time she danced —
Reels, jigs, poussettes, and flings:
They cheered her as she soared and swooped,
(She had learnt ere art in dancing drooped
From hops to slothful swings).
The favorite Quick-step "Speed the Plough" —
(Cross hands, cast off, and wheel) —
"The Triumph", "Sylph", "The Row-dow-dow",
Famed "Major Malley's Reel",
"The Duke of York's", "The Fairy Dance",
"The Bridge of Lodi" (brought from France),
She beat out, toe and heel.
The "Fall of Paris" clanged its close,
And Peter's chimed to four,
When Jenny, bosom-beating, rose
To seek her silent door.
They tiptoed in escorting her,
Lest stroke of heel or clink of spur
Should break her goodman's snore.
The fi re that lately burnt fell slack
When lone at last was she;
Her nine-and-fifty years came back;
She sank upon her knee
Beside the durn①, and like a dart
A something arrowed through her heart
In shoots of agony.
Their footsteps died as she leant there,
Lit by the morning star
Hanging above the moorland, where
The aged elm-rows are;
As overnight, from Pummery Ridge
To Maembury Ring and Standfast Bridge
No life stirred, near or far.
Though inner mischief worked amain,
She reached her husband's side;
Where, toil-weary, as he had lain
Beneath the patchwork pied
When with lax longings she had crept
Therefrom at midnight, still he slept
Who did in her confide.
A tear sprang as she turned and viewed
His features free from guile;
She kissed him long, as when, just wooed,
She chose his domicile.
She felt she would give more than life
To be the single-hearted wife
That she had been erstwhile…
Time wore to six. Her husband rose
And struck the steel and stone;
He glanced at Jenny, whose repose
Seemed deeper than his own.
With dumb dismay, on closer sight,
He gathered sense that in the night,
Or morn, her soul had flown.
When told that some too mighty strain
For one so many-yeared
Had burst her bosom's master-vein,
His doubts remained unstirred.
His Jenny had not left his side
Betwixt the eve and morning-tide:
— The King's said not a word.
Well! times are not as times were then,
Nor fair ones half so free;
And truly they were martial men,
The King's-Own Cavalry.
And when they went from Casterbridge
And vanished over Mellstock Ridge,
'Twas saddest morn to see.
注释
① ［方言］门框。
凤凰之舞
有个温柔小伙子来追珍妮，
来自内地的牧场；
他清新的爱情像苹果花儿
在帕雷特河边开放。
他认真追求，诚意说服，
求她答应做他的贤内助，
永远认他作情郎。
却说珍妮的生活和性情
算不上拘谨规范，
刚刚到十六岁上初长成，
就开始激情体验，
她在卡斯特桥很多相识，
其中有各种各样的兵士，
都属皇家骑兵团。
个个配备火枪、剑和战马，
比斯开湾有战绩；
但珍妮看重乡下来的他，
看重他诚心实意。
她保证说，如果他俩成婚，
她会做忠实妻子永不变心，
从喜酒直到墓地。
于是他们结了婚。她老公
对珍妮无限信任；
而珍妮保持纯洁，正大光明，
就连恶意的人
存心要到她身上来找碴儿，
对这位贤内助，也没法儿
挑剔她的忠贞。
她生了两个儿子，养大了，
离家外出在远途：
珍妮被撂在家成了空巢，
想当年她的家屋
靠两个孩子增添了欢愉，
使她的持家充满了乐趣，
而今却重新孤独。
六十的岁数已越来越近，
她步入了老年，
有一天，忽感到猛地一震，
她听得欢声一片，
伴着剑光闪闪鼓声咚咚，
从战场回来了她的旧情——
皇家御林骑兵团。
她低下头，她转向一侧，
在圣彼得教堂旁；
“抑制了的心情呀！”她说，
“如今我白发苍苍，
但这音乐仍使我全身战栗，
鲜亮军装仍使我激动不已，
像久久之前一样！”……
——正值圣诞节，凤凰酒店
高烛通明放光辉，
因为今夜有三十个军人
决意组织舞会。——
他们前辈在拿破仑覆亡前，
骑兵团在本市驻扎期间，
有这传统之规。
那夜，令人心跳的“士兵乐”、
“怕羞妹”的摇摆、
“少年郎”有节律的踏和跺
向珍妮耳中传来，
当她躺在老伴身边；舞曲声声
使她热血沸腾，冲走了年龄，
一如春潮澎湃。
她起身来，打扮整洁，
为装点双鬓斑斑，
用红丝带挽两个蝴蝶结，
匆匆别在女帽边；
悄没声响地下楼上了街，
踩着石板路，循着音乐
来到了酒店门前。
除了舞蹈声，冰冻的空中
没杂音打岔；
再没有别人半夜里出行
也没更夫巡查；
唯见诸圣堂上明亮的天狼
应着乐音闪光，拴牛广场上
是北斗星高挂。
她敲门，不料一个军士
拦住不让进门：
“老奶奶，你哪里来的？
我们没请外人。”
“这里没一个人比我更有权！”
她回答道，“我认识整个团！
那时你还没出生。”
“对待女士来访不要粗暴！”
服务员发了话；
“你瞧，这儿女舞伴还少，
就请你放她一马！”
于是她被抱着在迷宫飞旋，
珍妮感到重温了青春之年
她的浪漫潇洒。
小时追小时，夜在赶路，
脚下生翅般轻快；
她跳着每一种舞：里尔舞、
吉格、弗灵和蒲赛，
兴高采烈地飞升又降低
（她从前就会低姿舞技——
从跳跃到慢摇摆）。
她心爱的快步“扶犁舞”——
（交叉手、丢开、转）、
“马利少校舞”和“西尔芙”、
“闹多多”和“凯旋”、
“约克公爵”和“舞蹈仙子”、
法国“洛底桥”，她敲出拍子
用脚跟和脚尖。
“巴黎陷落”奏响了终曲，
圣彼得钟敲四下，
怀着剧跳的心，珍妮站起
找她静静的家。
护送者小心翼翼踮着脚，
免得靴跟、马刺声惊扰
还在打鼾的他。
炉火即将烧尽，火光幽幽，
当只剩她一人，
她的年岁重新回到五十九；
她身挨着房门
跪倒在地，一阵剧痛来袭，
有什么东西像飞镖似的
刺穿了她的心。
他们的脚步远去，她靠着，
沐浴在晨星光里，——
晨星照临整片荒原沼泽，
老榆树成行站立；
寒夜将尽，从彭梅里山
到斯丹发桥和曼伯利环，
到处阒无声息。
体内的恶作剧在加力发威，
她爬近老公的身；
而他因干活累，身盖花缀被①
仍旧睡得很沉；
像昨夜珍妮因心情荡漾，
而爬起时一样，他睡得正香：
对妻子完全信任。
她滴下了泪，当她转身注视
他无邪的面庞；
她久久吻他，像答应求婚时，
一吻选了他的房。
她感到再付生命也不惜
来做他一心一意的妻，
正如此生一样……
时间到六点。她丈夫起床，
用火镰打击火石；
他瞧一眼珍妮，今儿早上
咋睡得比他还实？
怀着惊慌，到床边再细看，
他明白了：在凌晨或夜间
她灵魂已飞逝。
他被告知，由于负荷剧烈
加上她的年纪，
导致了胸腔主动脉破裂。
但他仍毫不怀疑：
从傍晚到早晨整段时间
他的珍妮没离开过身边。
——骑兵没透露秘密。
那年头，女性的自由度
不及今天一半；
而他们有真正军人风度——
皇家御林骑兵团。
他们开拔离开了卡斯特桥，
当他们翻过梅尔斯托山坳，
晨光哀恸黯淡。
注释
① 用各种花色布块拼缀成被面的被。
Her Immortality
Upon a noon I pilgrimed through
A pasture, mile by mile,
Unto the place where last I saw
My dead Love's living smile.
And sorrowing I lay me down
Upon the heated sod:
It seemed as if my body pressed
The very ground she trod.
I lay, and thought; and in a trance
She came and stood thereby —
The same, even to the marvellous ray
That used to light her eye.
"You draw me, and I come to you,
My faithful one," she said,
In voice that had the moving tone
It bore ere she was wed.
"Seven years have circled since I died:
Few now remember me;
My husband clasps another bride;
My children's love has she.
"My brethren, sisters, and my friends
Care not to meet my sprite:
Who prized me most I did not know
Till I passed down from sight."
I said: "My days are lonely here;
I need thy smile alway:
I'll use this night my ball or blade,
And join thee ere the day."
A tremor stirred her tender lips,
Which parted to dissuade:
"That cannot be, O friend," she cried;
"Think, I am but a Shade!
"A Shade but in its mindful ones
Has immortality;
By living, me you keep alive,
By dying you slay me.
"In you resides my single power
Of sweet continuance here;
On your fidelity I count
Through many a coming year."
— I started through me at her plight,
So suddenly confessed:
Dismissing late distaste for life,
I craved its bleak unrest.
"I will not die, my One of all! —
To lengthen out thy days
I'll guard me from minutest harms
That may invest my ways!"
She smiled and went. Since then she comes
Oft when her birth-moon climbs,
Or at the seasons' ingresses,
Or anniversary times;
But grows my grief. When I surcease,
Through whom alone lives she,
Her spirit ends its living lease,
Never again to be!
她的永生
中午我穿过辽阔的草原
去重访旧日的游踪，
我曾在那儿最后一次看见
我死去的恋人生前的笑容。
我怀着满腔悲痛躺下，
躺在发烫的草地，
我觉得好像我的身体
紧压住她的足迹。
我想出了神，在恍惚中
她来到我的身旁，——
她眼睛闪着神奇的光辉，
完全跟当年一样。
她说：“因为你招我，我就来
回报你忠诚的爱，”
她的声音如同嫁人以前
那样柔情脉脉。“
我死后已流转七度春秋，
还有谁把我记在心头？
我丈夫抱着另一位新娘，
我儿女的爱被她占有。
我的兄弟姐妹，我的朋友，
谁愿与我魂梦邂逅？
要知道谁对我情意最重，
唯有在我逝去之后。”
我说：“我在人间日子孤寂，
我愿和你的笑颜相依，
今夜借助于弹丸或锋刃，
天明前就和你相聚。”
她急急劝阻，一阵战栗
震动她温柔的嘴唇：
“朋友啊，不成！”她喊道，
“要知道我仅仅是一个魂！
魂只在永不相忘的心中
获得永生的资格；
你以你的生命使我活着，
你死，就是杀害了我。
你身上寄托着我唯一的权利——
使我得到甜蜜的继续；
我指望你的忠诚经得起
未来岁月的风雨。”
她的表白出乎我的意外，
她的苦境震撼了我，
我驱除近日对生活的厌恶，
我渴望这萧瑟的生活！
“我不死！我唯一的恋人！
为了延长你的时限，
我要避免途中的种种伤害，
防备最小的危险！”
她微笑着去了。从此以后
她常来和我相见——
每逢她生日之夜明月初上，
或是每逢周年纪念；
但与年俱增的是我的悲哀：
一旦我的终结到来，
她的魂就结束了租借期，
从此永不存在！
Thoughts of Phena
At News of Her Death
Not a line of her writing have I,
Not a thread of her hair,
No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby
I may picture her there;
And in vain do I urge my unsight
To conceive my lost prize
At her close, whom I knew when her dreams were upbrimming with light,
And with laughter her eyes.
What scenes spread around her last days,
Sad, shining, or dim?
Did her gifts and compassions enray and enarch her sweet ways
With an aureate nimb?
Or did life-light decline from her years,
And mischances control
Her full day-star; unease, or regret, or forebodings, or fears
Disennoble her soul?
Thus I do but the phantom retain
Of the maiden of yore
As my relic; yet haply the best of her — fined in my brain
It maybe the more
That no line of her writing have I,
Nor a thread of her hair,
No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby
I may picture her there.
March 1890
念菲娜
闻菲娜去世志哀
我没有一行她的字迹，
没有一绺她的秀发，
没有一点她后来当主妇的印记
好让我把情境描画；
我错失的她后期怎样？
我的想象全归徒劳；
而早年啊她的梦想充溢着阳光，
她的眼睛充溢欢笑。
最后环绕她的是何情境——
是悲或欢，明或暗？
她的温柔，是否因善良和才情
而加上灿烂光环？
她的光辉是否随年龄减退，
她的太阳是否被遮没，
是否有不安、忧虑、畏惧或后悔
把她的心灵折磨？
我只能把她少女的魂留下
作我唯一的纪念；
也许这是我能呈现的最美好的她，
也许还多亏了今天
我没有一行她的字迹，
没有一绺她的秀发，
没有一点她后来当主妇的印记
好让我把情境描画。
1890年3月
【译析】菲娜是哈代的表妹，全名特丽菲娜。从她十六岁当实习教师至十九岁到伦敦上师范学院期间，哈代和她交往甚密，传记作者猜测他们之间曾有恋情，但达到什么程度难以实证。无论如何，从“我错失的她”可看出哈代对菲娜的感情；哈代的许多小说里也能看到菲娜的身影，如《无名的裘德》的女主人公淑。
菲娜病故时只有三十九岁，据哈代日记记载，此诗的开头部分是他在往伦敦的火车上写的，当时根本不知菲娜病危（哈代称此为心灵感应的奇异例证），他在得知菲娜去世消息后续完全诗。
Nature's Questioning
When I look forth at dawning, pool,
Field, flock, and lonely tree,
All seem to gaze at me
Like chastened children sitting silent in a school;
Their faces dulled, constrained, and worn,
As though the master's ways
Through the long teaching day
Had cowed them till their early zest was overborne.
Upon them stirs in lippings mere
(As if once clear in call,
But now scarce breathed at all) —
"We wonder, ever wonder, why we find us here!
"Has some Vast Imbecility,
Mighty to build and blend,
But impotent to tend,
Framed us in jest, and left us now to hazardry?
"Or come we of an Automaton
Unconscious of our pains?…
Or are we live remains
Of Godhead dying downwards, brain and eye now gone?
"Or is it that some high Plan betides,
As yet not understood,
Of Evil stormed by Good,
We the Forlorn Hope over which Achievement strides?"
Thus things around. No answerer I…
Meanwhile the winds, and rains,
And Earth's old glooms and pains
Are still the same, and Life and Death are neighbours nigh.
自然之问
迎着曙光，举目四望，牛羊、
田野、孤树、水池，
似乎都在向我凝视，
像受严厉管教的孩子，默默坐在课堂；
它们脸色黯淡，憔悴，发僵，
似乎老师的方式
通过漫长的课时，
压制了初生的盎然生机，换作了沮丧。
它们翕动着嘴唇在低语
（似乎曾经的高呼，
变了如今的嗫嚅）：
“我们不明白我们为什么会在这里！
“是哪个巨大的弱智之徒，
有能力创造，搅混，
没能力照看关心，
把我们塞进一个玩笑，交给意外摆布？
“或许我们来自个自动机制，
它对我们痛苦无知？……
或许是，上帝垂死，
脑死亡，眼无视，留下我们这些残肢？
“或许是，上苍大展宏图，
但目前无人能懂，
善卷起恶的暴风，
伟大功业践踏着我们凄惨的希望迈步？”
我环顾万物，无话答复……
这时分，风骤雨疏，
大地上古老的痛苦
依然如故，生命永与紧邻的死亡为伍。
"I look into my glass"
I look into my glass,
And view my wasting skin,
And say, "Would God it came to pass
My heart had shrunk as thin!"
For then, I, undistrest
By hearts grown cold to me,
Could lonely wait my endless rest
With equanimity.
But Time, to make me grieve;
Part steals, lets part abide;
And shakes this fragile frame at eve
With throbbings of noontide.
对镜
当我照我的镜，
见我形容憔悴，
我说：“但愿上天让我的心
也像这样凋萎！”
那时，人心对我变冷，
我也不再忧戚，
我将能孤独而平静，
等待永久的安息。
可叹时间偷走一半，
却让一半留存，
被时间摇撼的黄昏之躯中
搏动着正午的心。