My Lost Youth by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 青春祭

My Lost Youth

 

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

 

Often I think of the beautiful town 

      That is seated by the sea; 

Often in thought go up and down 

The pleasant streets of that dear old town, 

      And my youth comes back to me. 

            And a verse of a Lapland song 

            Is haunting my memory still: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

I can see the shadowy lines of its trees, 

      And catch, in sudden gleams, 

The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, 

And islands that were the Hesperides 

      Of all my boyish dreams. 

            And the burden of that old song, 

            It murmurs and whispers still: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

 

I remember the black wharves and the slips, 

      And the sea-tides tossing free; 

And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 

And the beauty and mystery of the ships, 

      And the magic of the sea. 

            And the voice of that wayward song 

            Is singing and saying still: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

I remember the bulwarks by the shore, 

      And the fort upon the hill; 

The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar, 

The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er, 

      And the bugle wild and shrill. 

            And the music of that old song 

            Throbs in my memory still: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

I remember the sea-fight far away, 

      How it thundered o'er the tide! 

And the dead captains, as they lay 

In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay, 

      Where they in battle died. 

            And the sound of that mournful song 

            Goes through me with a thrill: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

I can see the breezy dome of groves, 

      The shadows of Deering's Woods; 

And the friendships old and the early loves 

Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves 

      In quiet neighborhoods. 

            And the verse of that sweet old song, 

            It flutters and murmurs still: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

I remember the gleams and glooms that dart 

      Across the school-boy's brain; 

The song and the silence in the heart, 

That in part are prophecies, and in part 

      Are longings wild and vain. 

            And the voice of that fitful song 

            Sings on, and is never still: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

There are things of which I may not speak; 

      There are dreams that cannot die; 

There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak, 

And bring a pallor into the cheek, 

      And a mist before the eye. 

            And the words of that fatal song 

            Come over me like a chill: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

Strange to me now are the forms I meet 

      When I visit the dear old town; 

But the native air is pure and sweet, 

And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street, 

      As they balance up and down, 

            Are singing the beautiful song, 

            Are sighing and whispering still: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

 

And Deering's Woods are fresh and fair, 

      And with joy that is almost pain 

My heart goes back to wander there, 

And among the dreams of the days that were, 

      I find my lost youth again. 

            And the strange and beautiful song, 

            The groves are repeating it still: 

      "A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

 

青春祭

 

常常我想起挨著海洋

那個美麗的小城；

常常我的心徜徉

在心愛老城開心的小巷，

就這樣重回我的青春。 

而那句拉普蘭歌謠

依然在記憶裏盤旋：

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

我看到一排排樹蔭，

也瞥到， 環繞的海灣

閃爍著波光粼粼，

還有那些海島的低吟

是我兒時夢想的來源。

而那歌謠的副歌，

依然低語喃喃：

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

我想起船塢和黑色的碼頭，

伴著海浪的拍擊；

想起滿腮胡須的水手，

和神秘又美麗的泊舟，

還有大海的魔力。

而那飄忽的歌謠

依然吟唱不斷：

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

我想起海邊的堤壩， 

和山坡上的軍營；

日出的令槍， 把長空劃，

和著操練的鼓聲噠噠，

喇叭聲嘹亮輕盈。

而那歌謠的旋律

依然在記憶裏震顫：

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

我記得那個遠海的戰役，

如同雷鳴擊打海浪！

戰死的水手們， 安息

在他們的墓地， 守望著海灣的靜寂， 

那是他們戰死的地方。 

而那哀痛的歌謠

依然令我全身冷顫：

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

我看到獵鹿林隨風搖擺，

和茂密的樹蔭；

昔日的友情和戀愛

帶著安息的聲音歸來，

像鴿子飛翔在寂靜的右舍左鄰。 

而那句甜美的歌謠，

依然頓挫喃喃：

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

我記得那些飄忽的悲歡

穿過男孩的腦海；

心中的歌聲和無言，

有些是預示， 還有些是期盼

瘋狂而又蒼白。

而那斷續的歌謠

依然回旋： 

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

有我講不出的事；

有我停不下的夢，

有讓堅強的心虛弱的心思，

給臉頰蒼白的病意，

和眼前的迷蒙。 

而那致命的歌謠

依然帶給我寒顫：

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

當我訪問心愛的老城邊 

遇到很多奇妙的事。

那裏空氣清甜，

樹叢掩映每條熟知的小巷，

當枝葉上下浮起，

唱著美妙的歌謠， 

依然低語輕歎： 

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

 

獵鹿林清新豔麗，

帶著幾乎成痛的歡欣

我的心回到那裏迷失，

在那昔日的夢裏，

尋回逝去的青春。 

而那奇妙美麗的歌謠，

依然被小樹林喃喃：

“男孩的心願是風的心願， 

少年的心思是長長的夢想。”

所有跟帖： 

• 這首詩很美. 讚！ -elzevir- ♀ (0 bytes) () 10/13/2016 postreply 13:40:23

• 謝謝 elzevir 喜歡！ -顫音- ♂ (0 bytes) () 10/13/2016 postreply 18:49:05

• 譯得真好，青春不在，歌謠猶存： "A boy's will is the wind's will..." -祤湫霖- ♀ (616 bytes) () 11/09/2016 postreply 08:51:27