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第4章

second april-第4章

小说: second april 字数: 每页3500字

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I sought her; too;

Among the upper gods; although I knew

She was not like to be where feasting is;

Nor near to Heaven's lord;

Being a thing abhorred

And shunned of him; although a child of his;

(Not yours; not yours; to you she owes not breath;

Mother of Song; being sown of Zeus upon a dream of Death)。

Fearing to pass unvisited some place

And later learn; too late; how all the while;

With her still face;

She had been standing there and seen me pass; without a smile;

I sought her even to the sagging board whereat

The stout immortals sat;

But such a laughter shook the mighty hall

No one could hear me say:

Had she been seen upon the Hill that day?

And no one knew at all

How long I stood; or when at last I sighed and went away。



There is a garden lying in a lull

Between the mountains and the mountainous sea;

I know not where; but which a dream diurnal

Paints on my lids a moment till the hull

Be lifted from the kernel

And Slumber fed to me。

Your foot…print is not there; Mnemosene;

Though it would seem a ruined place and after

Your lichenous heart; being full

Of broken columns; caryatides

Thrown to the earth and fallen forward on their jointless knees;

And urns funereal altered into dust

Minuter than the ashes of the dead;

And Psyche's lamp out of the earth up…thrust;

Dripping itself in marble wax on what was once the bed

Of Love; and his young body asleep; but now is dust instead。



There twists the bitter…sweet; the white wisteria

Fastens its fingers in the strangling wall;

And the wide crannies quicken with bright weeds;

There dumbly like a worm all day the still white orchid feeds;

But never an echo of your daughters' laughter

Is there; nor any sign of you at all

Swells fungous from the rotten bough; grey mother of Pieria!



Only her shadow once upon a stone

I saw;and; lo; the shadow and the garden; too; were gone。



I tell you you have done her body an ill;

You chatterers; you noisy crew!

She is not anywhere!

I sought her in deep Hell;

And through the world as well;

I thought of Heaven and I sought her there;

Above nor under ground

Is Silence to be found;

That was the very warp and woof of you;

Lovely before your songs began and after they were through!

Oh; say if on this hill

Somewhere your sister's body lies in death;

So I may follow there; and make a wreath

Of my locked hands; that on her quiet breast

Shall lie till age has withered them!



                        (Ah; sweetly from the rest

I see

Turn and consider me

Compassionate Euterpe!)

〃There is a gate beyond the gate of Death;

Beyond the gate of everlasting Life;

Beyond the gates of Heaven and Hell;〃 she saith;

〃Whereon but to believe is horror!

Whereon to meditate engendereth

Even in deathless spirits such as I

A tumult in the breath;

A chilling of the inexhaustible blood

Even in my veins that never will be dry;

And in the austere; divine monotony

That is my being; the madness of an unaccustomed mood。



This is her province whom you lack and seek;

And seek her not elsewhere。

Hell is a thoroughfare

For pilgrims;Herakles;

And he that loved Euridice too well;

Have walked therein; and many more than these;

And witnessed the desire and the despair

Of souls that passed reluctantly and sicken for the air;

You; too; have entered Hell;

And issued thence; but thence whereof I speak

None has returned;for thither fury brings

Only the driven ghosts of them that flee before all things。

Oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there。〃



Oh; radiant Song!  Oh; gracious Memory!

Be long upon this height

I shall not climb again!

I know the way you mean;the little night;

And the long empty day;never to see

Again the angry light;

Or hear the hungry noises cry my brain!

Ah; but she;

Your other sister and my other soul;

She shall again be mine;

And I shall drink her from a silver bowl;

A chilly thin green wine;

Not bitter to the taste;

Not sweet;

Not of your press; oh; restless; clamorous nine;

To foam beneath the frantic hoofs of mirth

But savoring faintly of the acid earth;

And trod by pensive feet

From perfect clusters ripened without haste

Out of the urgent heat

In some clear glimmering vaulted twilight under the odorous vine。



Lift up your lyres!  Sing on!

But as for me; I seek your sister whither she is gone。







MEMORIAL TO D。 C。

'VASSAR COLLEGE; 1918'





Oh; loveliest throat of all sweet throats;

  Where now no more the music is;

With hands that wrote you little notes

  I write you little elegies!







EPITAPH



Heap not on this mound

  Roses that she loved so well;

Why bewilder her with roses;

  That she cannot see or smell?

She is happy where she lies

  With the dust upon her eyes。







PRAYER TO PERSEPHONE



Be to her; Persephone;

All the things I might not be;

Take her head upon your knee。

She that was so proud and wild;

Flippant; arrogant and free;

She that had no need of me;

Is a little lonely child

Lost in Hell;Persephone;

Take her head upon your knee;

Say to her; 〃My dear; my dear;

It is not so dreadful here。〃







CHORUS



Give away her gowns;

Give away her shoes;

She has no more use

For her fragrant gowns;

Take them all down;

Blue; green; blue;

Lilac; pink; blue;

From their padded hangers;

She will dance no more

In her narrow shoes;

Sweep her narrow shoes

From the closet floor。







ELEGY



Let them bury your big eyes

In the secret earth securely;

Your thin fingers; and your fair;

Soft; indefinite…colored hair;

All of these in some way; surely;

From the secret earth shall rise;

Not for these I sit and stare;

Broken and bereft completely;

Your young flesh that sat so neatly

On your little bones will sweetly

Blossom in the air。



But your voice;never the rushing

Of a river underground;

Not the rising of the wind

In the trees before the rain;

Not the woodcock's watery call;

Not the note the white…throat utters;

Not the feet of children pushing

Yellow leaves along the gutters

In the blue and bitter fall;

Shall content my musing mind

For the beauty of that sound

That in no new way at all

Ever will be heard again。



Sweetly through the sappy stalk

Of the vigorous weed;

Holding all it held before;

Cherished by the faithful sun;

On and on eternally

Shall your altered fluid run;

Bud and bloom and go to seed;

But your singing days are done;

But the music of your talk

Never shall the chemistry

Of the secret earth restore。

All your lovely words are spoken。

Once the ivory box is broken;

Beats the golden bird no more。







DIRGE



Boys and girls that held her dear;

  Do your weeping now;

All you loved of her lies here。



Brought to earth the arrogant brow;

  And the withering tongue

Chastened; do your weeping now。



Sing whatever songs are sung;

  Wind whatever wreath;

For a playmate perished young;



For a spirit spent in death。

Boys and girls that held her dear;

All you loved of her lies here。







SONNETS





I



We talk of taxes; and I call you friend;

Well; such you are;but well enough we know

How thick about us root; how rankly grow

Those subtle weeds no man has need to tend;

That flourish through neglect; and soon must send

Perfume too sweet upon us and overthrow

Our steady senses; how such matters go

We are aware; and how such matters end。

Yet shall be told no meagre passion here;

With lovers such as we forevermore

Isolde drinks the draught; and Guinevere

Receives the Table's ruin through her door;

Francesca; with the loud surf at her ear;

Lets fall the colored book upon the floor。





II



Into the golden vessel of great song

Let us pour all our passion; breast to breast

Let other lovers lie; in love and rest;

Not we;articulate; so; but with the tongue

Of all the world: the churning blood; the long

Shuddering quiet; the desperate hot palms pressed

Sharply together upon the escaping guest;

The common soul; unguarded; and grown strong。

Longing alone is singer to the lute;

Let still on nettles in the open sigh

The minstrel; that in slumber is as mute

As any man; and love be far and high;

That else forsakes the topmost branch; a fruit

Found on the ground by every passer…by。





III



Not with libations; but with shouts and laughter

We drenched the altars of Love's sacred grove;

Shaking to earth green fruits; impatient after

The launching of the colored moths of Love。

Love's proper myrtle and his mother's zone

We bound about our irreligious brows;

And fettered him with garlands of our own;

And spread a banquet in his frugal house。

Not yet the god has spoken; but I fear

Though we should break our bodies in his flame;

And pour our blood upon his altar; here

Henceforward is a grove without a name;

A pasture to the shaggy goats of Pan;

Whence flee forever a woman and a man。





IV



Only until this cigarette is ended;

A little moment at the end of all;

While on the floor the quiet ashes fall;

And in the firelight to a lance extended;

Bizarrely with the jazzing music blended;

The broken shadow dances on the wall;

I will permit my memory to recall

The vision of you; by all my dreams attended。

And then adieu;farewell!the dream is done。

Yours is a face of which I can forget

The color and the features; every one;

The words not ever; and the smiles not yet;

But in your day this moment is the sun

Upon a hill; after the sun has set。





V



Once more into my arid days like dew;

Like wind from an oasis; or the sound

Of cold sweet water bubbling underground;

A treacherous messenger; the thought of you

Comes to destroy me; once more I renew

Firm faith in your abundance; whom I found

Long since to be but just one other mound

Of sand; whereon no green thing ever grew。

And once again; and wiser in no wise;

I chase your colored phantom on the air;

And sob and curse and fall and weep and rise

And stumble pitifully on to where;

Miserable and lost; with stinging eyes;

Once more I clasp;and there is nothing there。





VI



No rose that in a garden ever grew;

In Homer's or in Omar's or in mine;

Though buried under centuries of fine

Dead dust of roses; shut from sun and dew

Forever; and forever lost from view;

But must again in fragrance rich as wine

The grey aisles of the air incarnadine

When the old summers surge into a new。

Thus when I swear; 〃I love with all my heart;〃

'Tis with the heart of Lilith that I swear;

'Tis with the love of Lesbia and Lucrece;

And thus as well my love must lose some part

Of what it is; had Helen been less fair;

Or perished young; or stayed at home in Greece。





VII



When I too long have looked u

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