論莎士比亞

 

論莎士比亞                                                     彌爾頓

我的莎翁，你的榮骨何求， 　　堆砌岩石成年忙不到頭， 　　把他那神聖的遺物埋藏， 　　在倒金字塔它直指星光？ 　　你是記憶之子，傳承美名， 　　何須無聊見證您的名聲？ 　　在我們的驚奇、讚歎之中， 　　你建立的紀念碑成永恒。 　　這笨拙的藝術實在羞恥       你下筆如有神，每顆心裏， 　　從你那無價的書頁之中 　　美麗行間獲得深深感動， 　　你的離去我們痛哭嚎啕， 　　還把我們變成多情石條； 　　如此堂皇的墳墓中靜躺， 　　帝王們也希望這樣而亡。

On Shakespeare. 1630

By John Milton

What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones,

The labor of an age in pilèd stones,

Or that his hallowed relics should be hid   

Under a star-ypointing pyramid?

Dear son of Memory, great heir of fame,

What need’st thou such weak witness of thy name?

Thou in our wonder and astonishment

Hast built thyself a live-long monument.

For whilst to th’ shame of slow-endeavouring art,   

Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart   

Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book

Those Delphic lines with deep impression took,   

Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving,   

Dost make us marble with too much conceiving;

And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie,

That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.