翻译：柯勒律治·《十一月》

November

Hartley Coleridge

十一月

The mellow year is hasting to its close;

The little birds have almost sung their last,

Their small notes twitter in the dreary blast –

That shrill-piped harbinger of early snows;

The patient beauty of the scentless rose,

Oft with the morn’s hoar crystal quaintly glassed,

Hangs, a pale mourner for the summer past,

And makes a little summer where it grows:

In the chill sunbeam of the faint brief day

The dusky waters shudder as they shine,

The russet leaves obstruct the straggling way

Of oozy brooks, which no deep banks define,

And the gaunt woods, in ragged, scant array,

Wrap their old limbs with somber ivy-twine.

十一月

哈特利·柯勒律治

当芳醇的一年匆匆告了结束，

小鸟唱的歌也近乎力竭声嘶，

微弱的吱吱声里挟在凄裂的

阵风里，那是初雪呼啸的前驱。

映着早晨灰白而朦胧的一缕，

玫瑰蔫萎着，香气已尽行消失，

宛如在为消逝的夏日而悲泣，

它生长之地俨然是盛夏一隅。

被短暂一天的光辉团团笼罩，

黝黯微黑的河水在粼粼发亮，

褐色的枯叶堵住泥泞的水道。

它到处流淌，不曾有堤坝阻挡，

阴深的长藤缠住古老的柔条，

憔悴飘零的树丛卸却了盛装。

十一月

（马海甸 译）