He disappeared in the dead of winter:
他在严冬的死寂中消失了:
The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,
小溪冻结,机场几乎荒无人烟,
And snow disfigured the public statues;
雪花扭曲了公共雕像;
The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day.
水银柱在垂死的日子之口中下沉。
What instruments we have agree
我们所有的仪器都一致认为
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
他去世的那天是一个黑暗而寒冷的日子。
Far from his illness
远离他的疾病
The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests,
狼群奔跑在常绿的森林中,
The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays;
农民的河流未被时尚的码头所诱惑;
By mourning tongues
通过哀悼的语言
The death of the poet was kept from his poems.
诗人的死亡与他的诗歌隔绝。
But for him it was his last afternoon as himself,
但对他来说,那是他作为自己的最后一个下午,
An afternoon of nurses and rumours;
一个充满护士和谣言的下午;
The provinces of his body revolted,
他身体的省份叛乱了,
The squares of his mind were empty,
他心灵的广场空无一人,
Silence invaded the suburbs,
寂静侵入了郊区,
The current of his feeling failed; he became his admirers.
他情感的流动停止了;他成为了他的崇拜者。
Now he is scattered among a hundred cities
现在他分散在一百个城市里
And wholly given over to unfamiliar affections,
完全献身于陌生的情感,
To find his happiness in another kind of wood
在另一种木头中寻找幸福
And be punished under a foreign code of conscience.
并在外国的良知法典下受到惩罚。
The words of a dead man
死者的言语
Are modified in the guts of the living.
在生者的心肠中被修改。
But in the importance and noise of to-morrow
但在明天的重要与喧嚣中
When the brokers are roaring like beasts on the floor of the Bourse,
当经纪人像野兽一样在证券交易所大厅咆哮时,
And the poor have the sufferings to which they are fairly accustomed,
穷人则承受着他们早已习惯的痛苦,
And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom,
每个人都在自己内心的牢笼中几乎确信自己的自由,
A few thousand will think of this day
几千人会想起这一天
As one thinks of a day when one did something slightly unusual.
就像想起一个做了些略不寻常之事的日子。
You were silly like us; your gift survived it all:
你曾像我们一样愚蠢;你的天赋却经受住了这一切:
The parish of rich women, physical decay,
富有的女人教区,身体的衰退,
Yourself. Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.
你自己。疯狂的爱尔兰将你逼入诗歌。
Now Ireland has her madness and her weather still,
如今爱尔兰依然拥有她的疯狂与天气,
For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
因为诗歌不会促成任何事:它存活
In the valley of its making where executives
在它的创作谷地中,那里的高管们
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
永远不想去篡改,向南流淌
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
从孤独的牧场和忙碌的悲痛中,
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
我们相信并终将死去的原始城镇;它存活,
A way of happening, a mouth.
一种发生的方式,一张嘴。
Earth, receive an honoured guest:
大地啊,请接纳一位尊贵的客人:
William Yeats is laid to rest.
威廉·叶芝得以安息。
Let the Irish vessel lie
让爱尔兰的船只停泊
Emptied of its poetry.
清空了它的诗歌。
Time that is intolerant
时间是不容忍的
Of the brave and innocent,
对于勇敢和无辜的人,
And indifferent in a week
并在一周内冷漠无情
To a beautiful physique,
对美丽的躯体,