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Away, Away去吧,去吧

Away, Away去吧,去吧


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Away, away, ye notes of woe!
去吧,去吧,悲凉的曲调!
Be silent, thou once soothing strain,
沉默吧,一度甘美的乐音!
Or I must flee from hence—for, oh!
否则,我只得掩耳奔逃,
I dare not trust those sounds again.
这样的乐曲我不忍重听。
To me they speak of brighter days—
它们追述欢愉的往昔——
But lull the chords, for now, alas!
此刻,快停止拨弄琴弦!
I must not think, I may not gaze
我不愿正视,也不堪回忆
On what I am—on what I was.
我的今日,和我的当年。
The voice that made those sounds more sweet
你嗓音已哑,使这些乐曲
Is hush'd, and all their charms are fled;
原先的魅力都逃逸无踪;
And now their softest notes repeat
如今,它们低回的旋律
A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!
不过是挽歌哀乐的复诵。
Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee
是的,它们在唱你,赛沙!
Beloved dust! since dust thou art;
唱你——被人挚爱的尘土;
And all that once was harmony
那曲调原先是雍融和洽,
Is worse than discord to my heart!
如今比不上嘈杂的喧呼!
'Tis silent all!—but on my ear
全都静默了!可是我耳边
The well remember'd echoes thrill;
记忆犹新的回声在颤栗;
I hear a voice I would not hear,
听见的声音,我不愿听见,
A voice that now might well be still:
这样的声音早就该沉寂。
Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake;
它还在摇撼我迷惘的心灵,
Even slumber owns its gentle tone,
那柔婉乐音潜入我梦寐,
Till consciousness will vainly wake
“意识”枉然醒过来谛听,
To listen, though the dream be flown.
那梦境早已飞去不回。
Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
赛沙呵!醒来也如在梦中,
Thou art but now a lovely dream;
你化为一场神奇的梦幻;
A star that trembled o'er the deep,
仿佛海上闪烁的孤星,
Then turned from earth its tender beam.
清光已不再俯照人寰。
But he who through life's dreary way
当苍天震怒,大地阴晦,
Must pass, when heaven is veil'd in wrath,
有人在人生的征途跋涉,
Will long lament the vanish'd ray
他久久悼惜那隐没的明辉——
That scatter'd gladness o'er his path.
它在这征途上投洒过欢乐。


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去吧,去吧,悲凉的曲调!
沉默吧,一度甘美的乐音!
否则,我只得掩耳奔逃,
这样的乐曲我不忍重听。
它们追述欢愉的往昔——
此刻,快停止拨弄琴弦!
我不愿正视,也不堪回忆
我的今日,和我的当年。
你嗓音已哑,使这些乐曲
原先的魅力都逃逸无踪;
如今,它们低回的旋律
不过是挽歌哀乐的复诵。
是的,它们在唱你,赛沙!
唱你——被人挚爱的尘土;
那曲调原先是雍融和洽,
如今比不上嘈杂的喧呼!
全都静默了!可是我耳边
记忆犹新的回声在颤栗;
听见的声音,我不愿听见,
这样的声音早就该沉寂。
它还在摇撼我迷惘的心灵,
那柔婉乐音潜入我梦寐,
“意识”枉然醒过来谛听,
那梦境早已飞去不回。
赛沙呵!醒来也如在梦中,
你化为一场神奇的梦幻;
仿佛海上闪烁的孤星,
清光已不再俯照人寰。
当苍天震怒,大地阴晦,
有人在人生的征途跋涉,
他久久悼惜那隐没的明辉——
它在这征途上投洒过欢乐。

4.jpg
Away, away, ye notes of woe!
Be silent, thou once soothing strain,
Or I must flee from hence—for, oh!
I dare not trust those sounds again.
To me they speak of brighter days—
But lull the chords, for now, alas!
I must not think, I may not gaze
On what I am—on what I was.
The voice that made those sounds more sweet
Is hush'd, and all their charms are fled;
And now their softest notes repeat
A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!
Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee
Beloved dust! since dust thou art;
And all that once was harmony
Is worse than discord to my heart!
'Tis silent all!—but on my ear
The well remember'd echoes thrill;
I hear a voice I would not hear,
A voice that now might well be still:
Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake;
Even slumber owns its gentle tone,
Till consciousness will vainly wake
To listen, though the dream be flown.
Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
Thou art but now a lovely dream;
A star that trembled o'er the deep,
Then turned from earth its tender beam.
But he who through life's dreary way
Must pass, when heaven is veil'd in wrath,
Will long lament the vanish'd ray
That scatter'd gladness o'er his path.

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