快樂的太陽狗和霹靂貓

Life is so much fun, we just need to go out and explore...
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2015-走馬觀花看大瀑布

(2015-10-07 16:29:27) 下一個

九月上旬,霹靂貓去水牛城公差一周。十幾年前和太陽狗在美國這邊看過大瀑布,聽朋友說,加拿大那邊的景色更美,霹靂貓便忙裏偷閑的跑到加拿大去看瀑布;真的很近,從水牛城出發,開車過去,整個行程隻用了四個小時。

大瀑布的壯觀美景和氣勢是令人震撼的。霹靂貓在路邊看到了一個古巴詩人的紀念牌;放狗查了一下他的生平和這首在他二十歲被流放時寫的詩篇。砰然心動。
Ode to Niagara by José María Heredia (December 31, 1803 – May 21, 1839)
My Iyre! give me my Iyre! My bosom feels 
The glow of inspiration. O how long 
Have I been left in darkness since this light 
Last visited my brow, Niagara
Thou with thy rushing waters dost restore 
The heavenly gift that sorrow took away.

Tremendous torrent! for an instant hush 
The terrors of thy voice and cast aside 
Those wide involving shadows, that my eyes 
May see the fearful beauty of thy face! 
I am not all unworthy of thy sight, 
For from my very boyhood have I loved, 
Shunning the meaner track of common minds,
To look on nature in her loftier moods.

At the fierce rushing of the hurricane, 
At the near bursting of the thunderbolt, 
I have been touched with joy; and when the sea 
Lashed by the wind, hath rocked my bark and showed 
Its yawning caves beneath me, I have loved 
Its dangers and the wrath of elements.
But never yet the madness of the sea Hath moved me as thy grandeur moves me now. 

Thou flowest on in quiet, till thy waves 
Grow broken 'midst the rocks; thy current then 
Shoots onward like the irresistable course 
Of destiny. Ah, terribly they rage – 
The hoarse and rapid whirIpools there!

My brain grows wild, my senses wander, as I gaze 
Upon the hurrying waters, and my sight 
Vainly would follow, as toward the verge 
Sweeps the wide torrent – waves innumerable 
Meet there and madden – waves innumerable 
Urge on and overtake the waves before,
And disappear in thunder and foam. 

They reach–they leap the barrier–the abyss. 
Swallows insatiable the sinking waves.       
A thousand rainbows arch them, and woods       
Are deafened with the roar. The violent shock       
Shatters to vapor the descending sheets 
A cloudy whirlwind fills the gulf, and heaves       
The mighty pyramid of circling mist       
To heaven. The solitary hunter near       
Pauses with terror in the forest shades.       
What seeks thy restless eye? Why are not here, 
About the jaws of this abyss the palms       
Ah, the delicious palms-that on the plains       
of my own native Cuba spring and spread       
Their thickly foliaged summits to the sun,       
And, in the breathings of the ocean air, 
Wave soft beneath the heaven's unspotted blue?       

But no, Niagara,–thy forest pines 
Are fitter coronal for thee. The palm,       
The effeminate myrtle and frail rose may grow       
In gardens, arid give out their fragrance there,       
Unmanning him who breathes it. Thine it is 
To do a nobler office. Generous minds       
Behold thee, and are moved, and learn to rise       
Above earth's frivolous pleasures; they partake       
Thy grandeur, at the utterance of thy name.       
God of all truth! in other lands I've seen 
Lying philosophers, blaspheming Men,       
Questioners of thy mysteries, that draw       
Their fellows deep into impiety;       
And therefore doth my spirit seek thy face       
In earth's majestic solitudes. Even here 
My heart doth open all itself to thee.       
In this immensity of loneliness       
I feel thy hand upon me. To my ear       
The eternal thunder of the cataract brings       
They voice, and I am humbled as I hear. 

Dread torrent! that with wonder and with fear. 
Dost overwhelm the soul of him that looks       
Upon thee, and dost bear it from itself,       
Whence hast though thy beginning? Who supplies,       
Age after age, thy unexhausted springs? 
What power hath ordered, that, when all thy weight       
Descends into the deep, the swollen waves       
Rise not, and roll to overwhelm the earth?       
The Lord hath opened his omnipotent hand,       
Covered thy face with clouds, and given his voice 
To thy down-rushing waters; he hath girt       
Thy terrible forehead with his radiant bow.       
I see thy never-resting waters run       
And I bethink me how the tide of time       
Sweeps to eternity. So pass of man– 
Pass
, like a noon-day dream–the blossoming days,       
And he awakes to sorrow. I, alas!       
Feel that my youth is withered, and my brow       
Plowed early with the lines of grief and care.       

Never have I so deeply felt as now  
The hopeless solitude, the abandonment,       
The anguish of a loveless life. Alas!       
How can the impassioned, the unfrozen heart       
Be happy without love? I would that one  
Beautiful,–worthy to be loved and joined       
In love with me,–now shared my lonely walk       
On this tremendous brink. 'Twere sweet to see       
Her sweet face touched with paleness, and become       
More beautiful from fear, and overspread 
With a faint smile, while clinging to my side!       
Dreams–dreams! I am an exile, and for me       
There is no country and there is no love.       

Hear, dread Niagara, my latest voice! 
Yet a few years, and the cold earth shall close       
Over the bones of him who sings thee now       
Thus feelingly. Would that this, my humble verse,       
Might be like thee, immortal! I, meanwhile,  
Cheerfully passing to the appointed rest,       
Might raise my radiant forehead in the clouds       
To listen to the echoes of my fame.      

 

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