“爱人啊！你引我离开冬天的寒冷，
情人啊！你引我走向夏天的热浪，
我一定要品尝在这个恩情深厚的早晨里，
在这孕育成熟的暖意中绽开的花朵。”
这么说着，他先前怯弱的嘴唇大胆了起来，
用如露的音韵和她的嘴唇一起吟咏：
他们感到无上的福佑，无比的幸福
就像是在六月阳光中盛开的花朵。
"Love! thou art leading me from wintry cold,
Lady! thou leadest me to summer clime,
And I must taste the blossoms that unfold
In its ripe warmth this gracious morning time."
So said, his erewhile timid lips grew bold,
And poesied with hers in dewy rhyme:
Great bliss was with them, and great happiness
Grew, like a lusty flower in June’s caress.
他们俩似乎欢天喜地地分手，
像并蒂的两朵玫瑰给微风吹开
只是为了能更亲密地再次合拢，
共享各自心里隐藏的芬芳。
她走到自己的闺房，唱支美妙的歌，
唱的是缠绵的相思和甜蜜的情意；
他以轻快的脚步走上西边的一座山丘，
向太阳依依辞别，心中充满欢畅。
Parting they seem’d to tread upon the air,
Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart
Only to meet again more close, and share
The inward fragrance of each other’s heart.
She, to her chamber gone, a ditty fair
Sang, of delicious love and honey’d dart;
He with light steps went up a western hill,
And bade the sun farewell, and joy’d his fill.
他们又暗暗相会，那时薄暮
还未揭去蒙在群星上的美丽面纱，
他们每到黄昏就暗暗相会，那时薄暮
还未揭去蒙在群星上的美丽面纱，
暗暗地在一个种着风信子和麝香花的花亭里，
无人知道，也听不到任何人的窃窃私语。
唉！但愿他们能永远像这样在一起，
永不要有闲人的耳朵以他们的悲痛为乐。
All close they met again, before the dusk
Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil,
All close they met, all eves, before the dusk
Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil,
Close in a bower of hyacinth and musk,
Unknown of any, free from whispering tale.
Ah! better had it been for ever so,
Than idle ears should pleasure in their woe.
但爱情授予的一般奖品是，
那足以抵消巨大辛酸的丝丝甘甜；
虽然狄朵女王长眠地下，
虽然伊莎贝拉遇到的是极大痛苦，
虽然罗伦索没有用温暖的印度丁香
涂尸防腐，但真理依然是真理——
即使蜜蜂，那些春花丛中的受施舍者，
也知道只有在毒花里才存有最丰饶的蜜汁。
But, for the general award of love,
The little sweet doth kill much bitterness;
Though Dido silent is in under-grove,
And Isabella’s was a great distress,
Though young Lorenzo in warm Indian clove
Was not embalm’d, this truth is not the less —
Even bees, the little almsmen of spring-bowers,
Know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
他说道：“伊莎贝拉，我的爱人啊！
我因担心错过向你祝早安而痛苦。
唉！只是分别三个钟头我就这样急于
要压住种种忧虑，倘若失去了你
那又将怎样呢？但从多情的良宵中
我们必将获得白昼欠下的东西。
再会吧！我很快就会回来。”她应道：
“再会！”他离去时，她欢乐地歌唱。
"Love, Isabel!" said he, "I was in pain
Lest I should miss to bid thee a good morrow:
Ah! what if I should lose thee, when so fain
I am to stifle all the heavy sorrow
Of a poor three hours’ absence? but we’ll gain
Out of the amorous dark what day doth borrow.
Good bye! I’ll soon be back." — "Good bye!" said she: —
And as he went she chanted merrily.
她为将再也无法得到欢乐而独自流泪，
她从早悲伤地哭泣到夜色降临。
以后，不能再相亲相爱，多悲惨啊！
她独自恍然凝思过去的欢乐，
仿佛在暮色苍茫中看到他的身影，
不禁向四周的沉寂轻轻地呻吟，
将自己白璧无瑕的双臂对空张开，
又横在睡榻上低声呢喃：“在哪儿呀在哪儿？”
She weeps alone for pleasures not to be;
Sorely she wept until the night came on,
And then, instead of love, O misery!
She brooded o’er the luxury alone:
His image in the dusk she seem’d to see,
And to the silence made a gentle moan,
Spreading her perfect arms upon the air,
And on her couch low murmuring "Where? O where?"
因为罗伦索不回来。她时常
眼睛黯淡无光竭力保持镇定，
问她两个哥哥，究竟是什么牢狱似的国家
能使他离开得那么久？他们一次又一次地
撒个谎来使她安静。他们的罪恶
罩住他们，像从欣嫩谷生出的一缕烟；
他们每天晚上在梦中高声呻吟，
看到妹妹穿着雪白的尸衾。
Because Lorenzo came not. Oftentimes
She ask’d her brothers, with an eye all pale,
Striving to be itself, what dungeon climes
Could keep him off so long? They spake a tale
Time after time, to quiet her. Their crimes
Came on them, like a smoke from Hinnom’s vale;
And every night in dreams they groan’d aloud,
To see their sister in her snowy shroud.
那是一个梦。在昏睡的阴暗中，
正是沉闷的午夜时分，罗伦索
站在她床榻边流泪：森林的坟墓
损毁了他光泽的头发，在生前
那头发的光芒可以射向太阳，如今他的嘴唇
已变得冰冷，他那害相思的声音
不再像琵琶声般动听，他那塞满泥的耳朵
被他的泪水划出了一道泥泞的槽沟。
It was a vision. — In the drowsy gloom,
The dull of midnight, at her couch’s foot
Lorenzo stood, and wept: the forest tomb
Had marr’d his glossy hair which once could shoot
Lustre into the sun, and put cold doom
Upon his lips, and taken the soft lute
From his lorn voice, and past his loamed ears
Had made a miry channel for his tears.
苍白的鬼影说话时，声音多么诡异，
它那可怜的舌头想努力说得
像它在人间醒来时的那个样子，
伊莎贝拉简直沉醉在那音乐里。
那声音听着有气无力，充满畏缩的抖颤，
犹如督伊德教徒的松了弦的竖琴；
幽怨地传来一曲鬼灵的伴唱之歌，
就像飘荡在荆棘丛间嘶哑的夜风声。
Strange sound it was, when the pale shadow spake;
For there was striving, in its piteous tongue,
To speak as when on earth it was awake,
And Isabella on its music hung:
Languor there was in it, and tremulous shake,
As in a palsied Druid’s harp unstrung;
And through it moan’d a ghostly under-song,
Like hoarse night-gusts sepulchral briars among.
它还说道：“伊莎贝拉，我的爱人呀！
红色的越橘树在我头顶低垂，
一块巨大的燧石压住我的双脚；
山毛榉和高大的栗树在我四周撒下
叶子和刺人的坚果；那河对面
羊栏内的一阵鸣叫传到我的墓床；
去吧，在我的石楠花上洒阵泪水，
泪水必将安慰坟墓内的我。
Saying moreover, "Isabel, my sweet!
Red whortle-berries droop above my head,
And a large flint-stone weighs upon my feet;
Around me beeches and high chestnuts shed
Their leaves and prickly nuts; a sheep-fold bleat
Comes from beyond the river to my bed:
Go, shed one tear upon my heather-bloom,
And it shall comfort me within the tomb.
“我如今是个阴魂了，唉！唉！
在人类天性的边缘上孤孤单单
居住着：我独自吟唱神圣的弥撒，
生命的细小声音在我周围鸣响，
正午时分光洁的蜜蜂飞过田野，
好多礼拜堂的钟声在报时辰，
使我彻骨痛苦：这些声音对我变得
陌生了，而你是在遥远遥远的人间。
"I am a shadow now, alas! alas!
Upon the skirts of human-nature dwelling
Alone: I chant alone the holy mass,
While little sounds of life are round me knelling,
And glossy bees at noon do fieldward pass,
And many a chapel bell the hour is telling,
Paining me through: those sounds grow strange to me,
And thou art distant in Humanity.
“我知道过去的事，我完全感觉得到现在的事，
假使阴灵能够发狂，我会暴跳如雷；
虽然我忘却了人间幸福的滋味，
但那种苍白使我的坟墓温暖，
仿佛我从光辉的深渊中挑了个天使
做我的配偶：你的苍白使我喜欢；
你的美丽渐渐被我爱好起来，我觉得
一种更伟大的爱暗暗流彻我的骨髓。”
"I know what was, I feel full well what is,
And I should rage, if spirits could go mad;
Though I forget the taste of earthly bliss,
That paleness warms my grave, as though I had
A Seraph chosen from the bright abyss
To be my spouse: thy paleness makes me glad;
Thy beauty grows upon me, and I feel
A greater love through all my essence steal."
——“孩子呀，
什么热病似的烈火在你心内燃烧？——
遇到什么称心事你才能再含笑呢？”——
— "What feverous hectic flame
Burns in thee, child? — What good can thee betide,
That thou should’st smile again?" —
她们用比帕修斯的宝剑略钝的钢刀
砍掉了一个并非无形的怪物的头，
然而这样一个人的头，他的温存
完全与死相称，犹如与生相称一般。
古琴曲上说过，爱决不会死，而会永生，
不朽的主啊：如果爱的化身曾经死过，
苍白的伊莎贝拉曾同它接吻，低声悲叹。
这就是爱；冰凉——的确死了，但未被废黜。
With duller steel than the Perséan sword
They cut away no formless monster’s head,
But one, whose gentleness did well accord
With death, as life. The ancient harps have said,
Love never dies, but lives, immortal Lord:
If Love impersonate was ever dead,
Pale Isabella kiss’d it, and low moan’d.
’Twas love; cold, — dead indeed, but not dethroned.
她忘记了星辰、月亮和太阳，
忘记了树木之上的蓝色天空，
忘记了清水奔流其间的溪谷，
忘记了清冷秋日里刮起的风；
也不清楚白昼在何时消尽，
新的一天如何开始；只是恬静地
始终低头守着她那美丽的罗勒花，
用自己的泪水使它永远湿润。
And she forgot the stars, the moon, and sun,
And she forgot the blue above the trees,
And she forgot the dells where waters run,
And she forgot the chilly autumn breeze;
She had no knowledge when the day was done,
And the new morn she saw not: but in peace
Hung over her sweet basil evermore,
And moisten’d it with tears unto the core.
“悲哀”啊，移开你的眼睛吧！
“音乐”呀“音乐”，沮丧地吹奏吧！
“回声”呀“回声”，等到有一天，
从默默无闻的岛屿上向我们悲叹吧！
悲痛的众魂啊，不要唱你们的哀歌，
因为伊莎贝拉，可爱的伊莎贝拉，
就将死去；就将太孤寂、太遗憾地死去，
因为他们拿走了她美丽的罗勒花。
O Melancholy, turn thine eyes away!
O Music, Music, breathe despondingly!
O Echo, Echo, on some other day,
From isles Lethean, sigh to us — O sigh!
Spirits of grief, sing not your "Well-a-way!"
For Isabel, sweet Isabel, will die;
Will die a death too lone and incomplete,
Now they have ta’en away her basil sweet.
“伊莎贝拉啊！我心中能一半感到，
可以悄悄地向你说出我的苦楚；
倘若你以前曾相信过任何事情，
请相信我如何爱你，相信我的灵魂
如何临近它的劫数：我决不用
不受欢迎的紧握使你的手疼痛，
决不用凝望使你的眼睛惊惶；
但我不能再活一夜，倘若无法倾诉热情与衷肠。
"O Isabella, I can half perceive
That I may speak my grief into thine ear;
If thou didst ever any thing believe,
Believe how I love thee, believe how near
My soul is to its doom: I would not grieve
Thy hand by unwelcome pressing, would not fear
Thine eyes by gazing; but I cannot live
Another night, and not my passion shrive.