(朱生豪譯,方重校)
"Every man has his fault, and honesty is his."
--Lucullus from "Timon of Athens" (Act III, scene i)
平常少讀古書,有的字會忘記。
"繄,頓悟之致,何遠之有!"
--胡適,神會和尚神會和尚遺集遺集,台北,中研院,胡適紀念館,1967,pp.384-85。胡先生的標點,比較可信得多。
又,譬如:
"繄,頓悟之致,何遠之有!"
--胡適,神會和尚神會和尚遺集遺集,台北,中研院,胡適紀念館,1967,pp.384-85。胡先生的標點,比較可信得多。
又,譬如:
table, 'The Christmas Wine' at bottom left with a ruddy man sniffing the cork of a bottle, and along the bottom edge 'The Young Squire (M.F.H.) entertains some hunting friends', with five figures around a table, a couple holding hands in 'The visitor who makes love' and at right a man on horseback rides away from the house as 'The last to go'; after Raldolph Caldecott, supplement from the London Graphic's 'Christmas Number', the sheet folded vertically down the middle. 1876
Wood-engraving printed in colour
Wood-engraving printed in colour
British Museum
Drawings of Christmas visitors from 'the young folks' to 'the old folks' ow.ly/EA0G5 #BMAdventCalendar雸
依胡適日記,大一上學期修德文,下學期就讀歌德的 Hermann and Dorothea 《赫史料爾曼與陀羅特亞》.....
12.13
Ezra Pound and His Bel Esprit
A Moveable Feast By Ernest Hemingway
Hemingway states that “Ezra Pound was the most generous writer I have ever known” but also “the most disinterested.” Pound is always doing favors for others and he worries about people constantly, including T.S. Eliotwho Ezra fears does not have enough time to devote to writing due to his day job at a bank. Ezra founds “something called Bel Esprit” with Natalie Clifford Barney, a wealthy American who hosts salons for women at her home. Hemingway notes that it is common practice for rich French and American women to host salons in their homes and that he tries to avoid them. The Bel Esprit is a project of raising money in order to help Eliot stop working at the bank and devote himself to writing full-time. Hemingway approves and campaigns “energetically,” enthused by the thought of getting Eliot out of the bank. The campaign ends after the publication of The Waste Land, which is so successful that Ezra feels he doesn’t need to worry anymore. Hemingway takes some of the money he put into Bel Esprit and loses it at the races. However, it is alright in the end because he uses the rest of the money to go to Spain.
t s eliot - Interpreting the line "'O keep the Dog far hence, that ...
https://literature.stackexchange.com/.../interpreting-the-line-o-keep-...このページを訳す
First, I'd like to step back from this stanza a bit and look at an earlier one: What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow. Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only. A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (O keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men”: Webster'sWhite Devil ...
https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1057/9781137482846_14このページを訳す
A Booth 著 - 2015
Abstract. The final sixteen lines of “The Burial of the Dead” are spoken from the streets of a city that is both recognizably London and decidedly not—or not only“O keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men ... - Springer Link
https://link.springer.com/content/pdf/10.../9781137482846_14.pdf - このページを訳す
A Booth 著 - 2015
“O keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men”: Webster's. White Devil. The final sixteen lines of “The Burial of the Dead” are spoken from the streets of a city that is both recognizably London and decidedly not—or not only—. London. King William Street, London Bridge, and the church of Saint Mary. Woolnoth can be located on a map of the neighborhood where Eliot himself worked at Lloyds Bank2017.12.14 5:25
Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men - Xuite日誌 - 隨意窩
blog.xuite.net/.../120727249-Oh+keep+the+Dog+far+hence%2C+th.
近閱Cleanth Brooks 所著THE WASTE LAND: AN ANALALYSIS一文中,對原詩第74及75行之
'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,
'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!
有所分析及解釋,其中的Dog之所以所以大寫,他認為Eliot是New Humanism主義者,根據這種學說,人類須與切斷與超自然的聯繫(將已入土的神祇的屍體挖出來,以避免祂復活)的哲學思想有關,並指出這兩行詩是脫化自John Webster的Call for the Robin-redbreast and the Wren一詩,只是Eliot將原詩中的「wolf」改成「Dog」,將「foe」改成「friend」,Cleanth認為這是一種反諷(ironical)的手法,有嘲弄(taunting)的味道,因為埋葬死者正如將殘枝重新種植,都是不可能復生(without help)。
我認為Eliot之所以改寫Webster原詩,主要該詩也是描寫埋葬死者, 原詩如下:
John Webster (ca. 1580-ca. 1632)
Call for the Robin-redbreast and the Wren
1Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren,
2Since o'er shady groves they hover
3And with leaves and flowers do cover
4The friendless bodies of unburied men.
5Call unto his funeral dole
6The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole,
7To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm
8And, when gay tombs are robb'd, sustain no harm;
9But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men,
10For with his nails he'll dig them up again.
Eliot反其道而行,因為原詩第4行是The friendless bodies of unburied men.而他是埋葬friend(其實是暗指長相左右難以忘懷的記憶),所以連帶將「wolf」改成「Dog」,將「foe」改成「friend」,別忘了狼是狗的祖先,它代表以往美好的回憶,而狗是人類最好的朋友(Man's best friend),再者Dog之所以大寫,其一牠是成狗不是小狗(puppy),而且老狗是學不會新把戲(代表念舊),最後Eliot俏皮地以狗的口吻,引用Baudelaire「惡之華」(詩集名與花有關,內容還涉及死亡)的詩句做結'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!',-你這個心口不一的人(hypocrite lecteur),mon semblable(我的同類),—mon frère!(我的兄弟)',一方面叫狗不要刨舊花根,自己卻常常重溫舊夢(disturbed its bed),而那個夢正是已逝去的puppy love。
游常山在你的動態時報上分享了 1 張相片。
鍾先生
這位高塔(王文宏)先生,60歲淡江英文系畢業,毅力驚人,二個月內翻譯完畢1948年諾貝爾文學獎得主,英國T. S. Eliot的荒原 五部曲,
他年輕時候為稻粱謀任職英文翻譯,做了商業的專業專利代理人很久(聖島國際專利事務所),但是最愛文學,退休後隱居台中大里,與畫家妻子過閒雲野鶴生活,他也自費出版了首部詩集 左頰
他翻譯的 荒原 五部竣工,我也被他鼓舞下,正在翻譯 艾略特的
四個四重奏
四個四重奏
我自不量力,但是收穫很大,都要感謝高塔的鼓勵
特別介紹給你
常山
高塔 加入4599協會(賜福久久)
荒原 五部
高塔譯 2015
給 埃茲拉 龐德
大匠師
大匠師
I. 葬禮
II. 棋戲
III. 火誥
IV. 水殤
V. 雷諭
II. 棋戲
III. 火誥
IV. 水殤
V. 雷諭
The Waste Land
BY T. S. ELIOT
FOR EZRA POUND
IL MIGLIOR FABBRO
BY T. S. ELIOT
FOR EZRA POUND
IL MIGLIOR FABBRO
I. The Burial of the Dead
II. A Game of Chess
III. The Fire Sermon
IV. Death by Water
V. What the Thunder Said
II. A Game of Chess
III. The Fire Sermon
IV. Death by Water
V. What the Thunder Said
I. 葬禮
四月是最殘酷的月份,蕃息
紫丁香,從不毛之地
掺揉記憶和欲望,奮起
萎頓的根,以春霏
冬天保我們暖,覆被
大地於無憂的雪,哺育
小生命,以乾脯的塊莖
夏嚇我們,以越過史坦博格湖
雨陣;我們歇於廊柱
並在驕陽下續行,步入霍夫花園
啜飲咖啡,聊一小時
我不是俄國人,來自立陶宛,我是德國人
小時,我們待過奧國大公
我堂兄的家,他坐雪車,帶我出門
我嚇壞,他說,瑪麗
瑪麗,抓緊。我們下去
山上,我們何其自由
大半夜,我閱讀,並於冬天南下
什麼根在抓?什麼枝枒
從嶙峋廢物堆裡蹦出,人子
你說或猜不出,因你僅知
一堆破碎意象,在此,太陽直曝
枯枝無蔭,蟋蟀不安
石頭乾掉水聲,僅
這紅岩下有蔭
(來,鑽入這紅岩下)
我將為你指出,異於早晨昂步你身後的影子
或黃昏起身迎你的影子是啥
我將為你指出恐懼,於一掬塵土
清風徐拂
故鄉
我的愛爾蘭,孩子
此時,你在何處
「你一年前初次給我風信子
他們遂叫我風信子姑娘」
-然而,當我們稍後回來,從風信子
花園
你的臂滿,你的髮濕,我說
不出,且我的眼花,我
非生非死,我了無所知
一眼看穿光心,闃靜
茫茫,蕩蕩大海
莎莎特莉絲夫人,知名女占師
雖重感冒,卻是
周知,歐洲最睿智的女人
手握一把惡牌。當下,她說
你的牌,是不是遭溺的腓尼基水手
(瞧,他的眼睛是真珠)
這是美女阿朵娜,岩女
狀況百出的女士
此人握有三杖,這是轉輪
且這是獨眼商人,這張牌
空白,他攜在背上
我不准看,我未發現
被吊死的人,謹防因水而死
我看到一群人,環行
謝謝,若你看到艾奇彤女士
請告訴她,我親自帶來占星圖
這幾天得小心
紫丁香,從不毛之地
掺揉記憶和欲望,奮起
萎頓的根,以春霏
冬天保我們暖,覆被
大地於無憂的雪,哺育
小生命,以乾脯的塊莖
夏嚇我們,以越過史坦博格湖
雨陣;我們歇於廊柱
並在驕陽下續行,步入霍夫花園
啜飲咖啡,聊一小時
我不是俄國人,來自立陶宛,我是德國人
小時,我們待過奧國大公
我堂兄的家,他坐雪車,帶我出門
我嚇壞,他說,瑪麗
瑪麗,抓緊。我們下去
山上,我們何其自由
大半夜,我閱讀,並於冬天南下
什麼根在抓?什麼枝枒
從嶙峋廢物堆裡蹦出,人子
你說或猜不出,因你僅知
一堆破碎意象,在此,太陽直曝
枯枝無蔭,蟋蟀不安
石頭乾掉水聲,僅
這紅岩下有蔭
(來,鑽入這紅岩下)
我將為你指出,異於早晨昂步你身後的影子
或黃昏起身迎你的影子是啥
我將為你指出恐懼,於一掬塵土
清風徐拂
故鄉
我的愛爾蘭,孩子
此時,你在何處
「你一年前初次給我風信子
他們遂叫我風信子姑娘」
-然而,當我們稍後回來,從風信子
花園
你的臂滿,你的髮濕,我說
不出,且我的眼花,我
非生非死,我了無所知
一眼看穿光心,闃靜
茫茫,蕩蕩大海
莎莎特莉絲夫人,知名女占師
雖重感冒,卻是
周知,歐洲最睿智的女人
手握一把惡牌。當下,她說
你的牌,是不是遭溺的腓尼基水手
(瞧,他的眼睛是真珠)
這是美女阿朵娜,岩女
狀況百出的女士
此人握有三杖,這是轉輪
且這是獨眼商人,這張牌
空白,他攜在背上
我不准看,我未發現
被吊死的人,謹防因水而死
我看到一群人,環行
謝謝,若你看到艾奇彤女士
請告訴她,我親自帶來占星圖
這幾天得小心
幻城
在冬天拂曉的褐霧下
一群人漫過倫敦橋,如此之眾
未料,死亡未打理的,如此之眾
嘆息,偶而短吁
每一個人凝目腳前
湧上坡,湧下威廉國王大街
直至聖瑪麗兀兒諾教
最後一敲九點,以沉沉鐘聲
在那裡我遇到一個熟人,叫住他
「史帖臣」
「你在麥剌與我同船」
「去年你種在花園的屍體」
「開始發芽?今年會不會開花」
「抑或,乍來霜降,打亂它的花床」
「把狗攆得遠遠地,牠友於人」
「抑或,以他的指甲,他又向上掘挖」
「你,偽君子讀者!貌似我,我的兄弟」(76行,待續)
在冬天拂曉的褐霧下
一群人漫過倫敦橋,如此之眾
未料,死亡未打理的,如此之眾
嘆息,偶而短吁
每一個人凝目腳前
湧上坡,湧下威廉國王大街
直至聖瑪麗兀兒諾教
最後一敲九點,以沉沉鐘聲
在那裡我遇到一個熟人,叫住他
「史帖臣」
「你在麥剌與我同船」
「去年你種在花園的屍體」
「開始發芽?今年會不會開花」
「抑或,乍來霜降,打亂它的花床」
「把狗攆得遠遠地,牠友於人」
「抑或,以他的指甲,他又向上掘挖」
「你,偽君子讀者!貌似我,我的兄弟」(76行,待續)
I. The Burial of the Dead
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
“They called me the hyacinth girl.”
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed’ und leer das Meer.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back(The blank card is “The Fool”; he carries a purse over his back (he doesn’t see it) at the end of a stick. The Fool card in Tarot is unnumbered, or blank.),
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.
Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: “Stetson!
“You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
“That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
“Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
“Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
“Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,
“Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!
“You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”(line 76, to be continued)
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
“They called me the hyacinth girl.”
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed’ und leer das Meer.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back(The blank card is “The Fool”; he carries a purse over his back (he doesn’t see it) at the end of a stick. The Fool card in Tarot is unnumbered, or blank.),
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.
Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: “Stetson!
“You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
“That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
“Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
“Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
“Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,
“Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!
“You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”(line 76, to be continued)
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