Let us go then, you and I,
那么,你我且走吧,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
当黄昏铺展在天际时,
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
像被麻醉的病人躺在手术台上;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
让我们穿过某些半荒芜的街道,
The muttering retreats
那些喃喃低语的隐退之所,
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
在一夜廉价旅馆里不眠之夜的,
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
和满是牡蛎壳的锯末餐厅:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
像冗长争论般延伸的街道,
Of insidious intent
带着隐秘的意图,
To lead you to an overwhelming question…
将你引向一个压倒性的问题……
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
哦,别问,“那是什么?”
Let us go and make our visit.
让我们去拜访吧。
In the room the women come and go
房间里,女人们来来去去,
Talking of Michelangelo.
谈论着米开朗基罗。
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
黄色的雾气摩擦着窗玻璃,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
黄色的烟雾用鼻子蹭着窗玻璃,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
舔舐着夜晚的角落,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
徘徊在排水沟里的水洼上,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
让烟囱落下的煤灰洒在背上,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
滑过露台,突然一跃,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
看到这是个柔和的十月夜晚,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
绕着房子一圈,然后沉睡。
And indeed there will be time
确实会有时间,
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
给沿着街滑动的黄烟,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
擦着它的背在窗玻璃上;
There will be time, there will be time
会有时间,会有时间,
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
准备一副面孔去迎接你所遇到的面孔;
There will be time to murder and create,
有时间去毁灭和创造,
And time for all the works and days of hands
也有时间给双手的所有劳作与日子,
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
将一个问题轻轻放在你的盘子上;
Time for you and time for me,
给你的时间,给我的时间,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
还有时间做一百次犹豫,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
以及一百次幻想和修改,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
在举杯饮茶之前。
In the room the women come and go
房间里,女人们来来去去,
Talking of Michelangelo.
谈论着米开朗基罗。
And indeed there will be time
确实会有时间,
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
去思索,“我敢吗?” 和“我敢吗?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
有时间转身并下楼,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
头发中间有一块秃斑——
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
[他们会说:“他的头发变得多稀疏啊!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
我的晨衣,我的领子牢牢地贴到下巴,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
我的领带华丽又朴素,但被一个简单的别针固定住——
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
[他们会说:“但他的四肢多瘦啊!”]
Do I dare
我敢吗,
Disturb the universe?
扰乱这宇宙?
In a minute there is time
一分钟内有时间,
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
做决定和修改,而下一分钟又会推翻。
For I have known them all already, known them all—
因为我已经全部认识了他们,全都认识了——
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
已经历过黄昏、清晨与午后,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
我用咖啡勺丈量我的生命;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
我知道那些声音在远处音乐下渐渐消逝,
Beneath the music from a farther room.
从更远的房间传来的乐声之下。
So how should I presume?
那么我又该如何推断?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
而我也早已见过这些眼睛,全都已经见过——
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
那双把你固定在公式化语言中的眼睛,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
当我被公式化,像昆虫般钉在针上挣扎,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
当我被钉在墙上扭动着,
Then how should I begin
那么我又该如何开始
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
吐出我生活和习惯的所有残渣?
And how should I presume?
我又该如何推断?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
而我也早已熟悉这些手臂,全都熟悉了——
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
戴着手镯,白皙而裸露的手臂
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
[但在灯光下,覆着浅棕色的毛发!]
Is it perfume from a dress
是否是裙子上的香水
That makes me so digress?
让我如此偏离主题?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
那些搁在桌上或裹着披肩的手臂。
And should I then presume?
那么我又该如何推断?
And how should I begin?
我又该如何开始?
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
我是否该说,我在黄昏时走过狭窄的街道
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
看着孤独的人们在窗边抽烟冒出的烟雾
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? …
穿着衬衫袖子的男人,靠在窗外?…
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
我本应是一对粗糙的爪子
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
在寂静海底的地面上爬行。
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
下午,晚上,睡得如此安宁!
Smoothed by long fingers,
被长长的手指抚平,
Asleep… tired… or it malingers,
沉睡……疲倦……或者它在拖延,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
伸展在地板上,在你我身旁。
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
在我喝了茶、吃了蛋糕和冰淇淋之后,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
是否有力量将这一刻推向危机?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
但尽管我哭泣、禁食、哭泣并祈祷,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
尽管我看到我的头颅(稍显秃顶)放在盘子里端上来,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
我不是先知——这也不是什么大事;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
我看见自己伟大的时刻闪烁不定,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
我看见永恒的侍者拿着我的外套,窃笑,
And in short, I was afraid.
总之,我害怕了。
And would it have been worth it, after all,
毕竟,这一切值得吗,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
在杯子、果酱、茶之后,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
在瓷器之间,在一些关于我们的话题中,
Would it have been worth while,
这一切真的值得吗,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
带着微笑把问题一口咬断,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
把宇宙挤压成一个球
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
滚向某个压倒性的问题,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
去说:“我是拉撒路,从死里复活,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
回来告诉你们一切,我会告诉你们一切”——
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
如果有人,正为她枕边整理枕头,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
却说:“那根本不是我的意思。
That is not it, at all.”
完全不是那回事。”