[转载]冷美人 -- 济慈

冷美人

约翰·济慈

La Belle Dame sans Merci

John Keats (1795 – 1821)

戎装骑士哟，谁惹你烦忧，

面色苍白，独自一人闲荡？

湖畔的芦苇已枯萎凋零，

也无鸟儿歌唱。

戎装骑士哟，谁惹你烦忧，

面色憔悴，愁眉苦脸之相？

小松鼠都已忙完了秋收，

装满他的粮仓。

我看见你额头一枝百合，

被水雾打湿，热珠子滴淌，

你的面颊一朵凋谢玫瑰，

眼见变为枯黄。

芳草坪上，遇见一位佳人，

仙人的娇女，她国色天香，

她的柔发细长，纤足轻盈，

眼放野性光芒。

采鲜花为她编手镯腰带，

还做一顶花冠给她戴上，

她望着我似乎充满爱意，

一声呻吟柔肠。

将她扶上我飞奔的骏马，

整日里我万事不思不想，

只因有她依偎在我身边，

一首仙歌清唱。

她为我寻来美味的草根、

乡野的蜂蜜、甘露与灵粮，

用奇怪的言语海誓山盟，

“爱你地久天长”。

她把我带回了自己仙洞，

洞中她流泪、叹息、好悲伤，

我四次拥吻她狂热眼睛，

吻到眼帘合上。

在洞中她催眠哄我入睡，

在睡梦中，天哪！悲伤骤降！

就是刚才的梦，我的噩梦，

在这冰冷山岗。

我梦见了许多国王、王子、

还有骑士，面无血色模样，

他们齐冲我大喊：“冷美人

抓你为奴落网！”

幽暗中我看见他们瘪唇，

令人毛骨悚然，惊恐大张，

我被吓醒了，就发现自己

在这冰冷山岗。

这就是为何我徘徊此地，

面色苍白，独自一人闲荡，

尽管湖畔芦苇枯萎凋零，

也无鸟儿歌唱。

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge has withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

So haggard and so woe-begone?

The squirrel’s granary is full,

And the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on thy brow,

With anguish moist and fever-dew,

And on thy cheeks a fading rose

Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,

Full beautiful—a faery’s child,

Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;

She looked at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan

I set her on my pacing steed,

And nothing else saw all day long,

For sidelong would she bend, and sing

A faery’s song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,

And honey wild, and manna-dew,

And sure in language strange she said—

‘I love thee true’.

She took me to her Elfin grot,

And there she wept and sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

With kisses four.

And there she lullèd me asleep,

And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—

The latest dream I ever dreamt

On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci

Hath thee in thrall!’

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,

With horrid warning gapèd wide,

And I awoke and found me here,

On the cold hill’s side.

And this is why I sojourn here,

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.