As·phi·er

这里sp,第一层的s、第二层的p。
aph/米厨/法普/区欠混乱中立邪恶
【最近爬墙爱丽舍了对不起他们是真的】
音乐剧/北宋/Modern Europe
“A Mari Usque Ad Marie,从海到海”
——而我跪在雪地的泥泞里,亲吻阳光。
精神斯特拉斯堡人

【摘抄】An American to Mother England

#洛夫克拉夫特的诗歌,作于1916年1月

#中文翻译引自网络

——

An American to Mother England

by H. P. Lovecraft


England! My England! can the surging sea
That lies between us tear my heart from thee?
Can distant birth and distant dwelling drain
Th’ ancestral blood that warms the loyal vein?
Isle of my Fathers! hear the filial song
Of him whose sources but to thee belong!
World-Conquering Mother! by thy mighty hand
Was carv’d from savage wilds my native land:
Thy matchless sons the firm foundation laid;
Thy matchless arts the nascent nation made:
By thy just laws the young republic grew,
And through thy greatness, kindred greatness knew.
What man that springs from thy untainted line
But sees Columbia’s virtues all as thine?
Whilst nameless multitudes upon our shore
From the dim corners of creation pour,
Whilst mongrel slaves crawl hither to partake
Of Saxon liberty they could not make,
From such an alien crew in grief I turn,
And for the mother’s voice of Britain burn.
England! can aught remove the cherish’d chain
That binds my spirit to thy blest domain?
Can Revolution’s bitter precepts sway
The soul that must the ties of race obey?
Create a new Columbia if ye will,
The flesh that forms me is Britannic still!
Hail! oaken shades, and meads of dewy green,
So oft in sleep, yet ne’er in waking seen.
Peal out, ye ancient chimes, from vine-clad tower
Where pray’d my fathers in a vanish’d hour:
What countless years of rev’rence can ye claim
From bygone worshippers that bore my name!
Their forms are crumbling in the vaults around,
Whilst I, across the sea, but dream the sound.
Return, Sweet Vision! Let me glimpse again
The stone-built abbey, rising o’er the plain;
The neighb’ring village with its sun-shower’d square;
The shaded mill-stream, and the forest fair,
The hedge-lin’d lane, that leads to rustic cot
Where sweet contentment is the peasant’s lot:
The mystic grove, by Druid wraiths possess’d,
The flow’ring fields, with fairy-castles blest:
And the old manor-house, sedate and dark,
Set in the shadows of the wooded park.
Can this be dreaming? Must my eyelids close
That I may catch the fragrance of the rose?
Is it in fancy that the midnight vale
Thrills with the warblings of the nightingale?
A golden moon bewitching radiance yields,
And England’s fairies trip o’er England’s fields.
England! Old England! in my love for thee
No dream is mine, but blessed memory;
Such haunting images and hidden fires
Course with the bounding blood of British sires:
From British bodies, minds, and souls I come,
And from them draw the vision of their home.
Awake, Columbia! scorn the vulgar age
That bids thee slight thy lordly heritage.
Let not the wide Atlantic’s wildest wave
Burst the blest bonds that fav’ring Nature gave:
Connecting surges ‘twixt the nations run,
Our Saxon souls dissolving into one!

——

译者:不自量力的河伯


英格兰!我的英格兰!横亘于我们之间的滔滔大海
难道能阻断我对您的赤子之心吗?
先祖的热血给予我忠诚的秉性,身世之别、距离之遥
难道能使之枯竭吗?
父辈们的岛屿啊!听这孝子的歌谣
他一切灵感的源泉皆出于您!
母亲!世界的征服者!你强有力的双手
开垦出了我祖国那原本蛮荒的旷野;
因您非凡的子孙,这坚实的根基得以奠定,
因您非凡的艺术,这新生的国家得以造就;
因您公正的法律,年轻的共和国得以繁荣,
因您的伟大,您亲族的伟大才得以为人知悉。
是什么人涌出您那无垢的海岸
视哥伦比亚的美德等同于您?
而如今无名的乌合之众却
从世界的阴暗角落中涌出,爬上我们的海岸,
杂种奴隶们也匍行至此,分食那些
他们无法创造的属于撒克逊人的自由,
置身这些异族之中,在悲恸中我回首,
听到不列颠在燃烧,母亲在呼号。
英格兰!我的灵魂与您神圣的疆土捆绑在一起,
难道有什么东西能斩断这备受珍爱的羁绊吗?
难道那场革命苦涩的宣言能动摇
团结在民族使命下的灵魂吗?
那就重铸个新的哥伦比亚吧,若这是你们的意愿,
织就我血肉之躯的仍是不列颠之魂!
赞美!那橡树的浓荫,还有那鲜嫩的草场,
我梦里常现此景,梦醒时却从未见过。
鸣响吧,那些古老的钟声,从藤蔓覆盖的高塔中传出,
在日渐消逝的岁月中为我的父辈们祈祷。
多少年来你们吟咏我的名,声称对我的崇敬
都不过是旧日追随者用来烦人的字句罢了!
他们的形体早已在墓穴中朽烂,
而我,飘洋过海,只因梦到了那呼号。
重现吧,甜蜜的景致啊!让我再看一次
石质修道院在莽原上崛起,
毗肩绵延的村庄,它们阳光照耀的广场,
变幻的水流,林中的仙子。
树篱齐整的小道,通向农夫质朴的小屋
甜蜜美满就是这些人的命运;
神秘的树林,为德鲁伊们的魂灵所充盈,
鲜花繁茂的田野,为精灵们的城堡所祝福;
古老的庄园,沉静而幽暗,
端坐于林地的阴影中。
难道这些都是梦吗?难道只有当我阖上眼睑
才能捕捉到那玫瑰的芬芳吗?
那随着夜莺鸣唱而震颤的午夜的山谷
只存在于幻境吗?
金色的月亮,散发出迷蒙惑人的光辉,
英格兰的仙灵飘行于英格兰的原野上。
英格兰!古老的英格兰!吾爱,
那些梦不属于我,只有受祝福的回忆;
这些萦绕不去的图景,这些肌肤下燃烧的火焰
追逐着不列颠先父们跃动的血液;
凭着不列颠的躯体、意志和灵魂我走来,
凭着它们描绘家乡的图景。
醒来吧,哥伦比亚!蔑弃这平庸的时代
将目光投向您高贵威严的遗产吧。
不要让大西洋的怒涛
扯裂慈爱的上天赐予我们的神圣纽带;
连接在两国间的海浪翻涌着,
我们撒克逊人的灵魂溶合为一!


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