钱锺书曾说:“读外国诗每有种他乡忽遇故知的喜悦,会领导你回到本国诗。”这是穿梭于中外诗歌的人常有的感觉。
今天读到两首英文诗,便立刻让我想起两首同母题的中国诗。
这两首英文诗都是著名的中古民谣,淳朴天真自然,没有文人加工的痕迹。第一首《派屈克·司本斯爵士》,讲的是航海能手司本斯爵士,明知此时出海必死,但为不辱使命,捍卫荣誉,毅然启航,结果在半路和他的水手一起葬身海底。这对一个海洋国家的航海家和水手来说,本属寻常,但对他们的家人尤其妻子而言,不用说是铭心刻骨之痛:
啊,他们的夫人坐门前,
手拿扇子苦苦等,
等不到派屈克·司本斯爵士,
驾船靠岸回家门。
啊,他们的夫人立门前,
发插金钗表欢迎,
迎不来她们的丈夫,
心上人永无踪影。
去阿勃丁的半路上,半路上,
海水深达五丈深,
派屈克爵士就躺在那里,
他脚下尽是苏格兰儿郎。[王佐良译]
这几段立刻让我想起唐人陈陶的名句“可怜无定河边骨,犹是春闺梦里人。”全诗如下:
誓扫匈奴不顾身,五千貂锦丧胡尘。
可怜无定河边骨,犹是春闺梦里人!
二者一叙事,一抒情。一个通过故事令人身临其境,一个则有如电影剪辑,将两个有强烈对比的画面并置,令人惊惧、震撼。
另一首《巴巴拉·阿伦》讲的是一个贵族少年暗恋上了一位姑娘巴巴拉·阿伦,积思成疾,终至不治,临死前差仆人去请那位姑娘见最后一面。姑娘来到这位少爷的病榻前,少爷表白后死去,姑娘回去后也为他殉情:
“母亲啊,母亲啊,请为我备床,
床铺啊要做得又软又窄,
今日啊我的爱为我身亡,
明日啊我为他殉情自埋。” [王佐良译]
清初诗人朱彝尊有一首《高阳台》词,讲的是一个同样的故事,只不过男女角色反了过来,痴情而死的是女子,不过男子并没有殉情[在中国文化中,男人为情而死是不耻的]。全词如下:
高阳台
吴江叶元礼,少日过流虹桥,有女子在楼上,见而慕之,竟至病死。气方绝,适元礼复过其门,女之母以女临终之言告叶,叶入哭,女目始瞑。友人为作传,余记以词。
桥影流虹,湖光映雪,翠帘不卷春深。一寸横波,断肠人在楼阴。游丝不系羊车住,倩何人传语青禽?最难禁,倚遍雕阑,梦遍罗衾。
重来已是朝云散,怅明珠佩冷,紫玉烟沉。前度桃花,依然开满江浔。钟情怕到相思路,盼长堤草尽红心。动愁吟,碧落黄泉,两处难寻。
同样的母题,处理不同,味道不同,但感人之处无异。
读外国诗(最好是原文),就像出门旅游,能看到家中看不到的风景。只读本国诗,就像一个总宅在家里的人,能看到的风光自然有限。而如果只欣赏外国文学,则又如一个浪子,漂泊无根,总找不着归宿。居家,旅游,回家,这种赏心悦目是只会欣赏一种语言文学的人所不能领会的。
为便于整体欣赏,附上两首英诗的全文翻译和英文原文,译者为已故王佐良教授。
派屈克·司本斯爵士
国王坐在邓弗林城里,
喝着血红的酒。
“啊,哪儿能找到一位能人
来把我的船儿开走?”
一位老爵士坐在国王右首,
他站起来向国王🎨:
“派屈克·司本斯市一把好手,
航海比谁都不差。”
国王下了一道圣旨,
亲手签了他的御名,
派人送给派屈克爵士,
他正散步在海滨。
派屈克爵士读了第一行,
他张嘴大笑哈哈,
派屈克爵士读了第二行,
泪水从他的双眼流下。
“啊,谁人干了好事,
要我担这倒霉的差使,
在一年里这个季节,
要我出海行驶!
“快点,快点,我的伙伴们,
咱们明早要出海。”
“啊,可不能呀,好船长,
我怕有大风暴到来。”
“昨夜我看见新的月亮,
一手抱住了老的月亮,
我怕,我怕,好船长,
我们会碰上灾殃。”
啊,苏格兰的汉子们做得对,
不肯让海水打湿他们的脚跟。
可是好戏还没演到一半,
他们的帽子就在水面漂动。
啊,他们的夫人坐门前,
手拿扇子苦苦等,
等不到派屈克·司本斯爵士,
驾船靠岸回家门。
啊,他们的夫人立门前,
发插金钗表欢迎,
迎不来她们的丈夫,
心上人永无踪影。
去阿勃丁的半路上,半路上,
海水深达五丈深,
派屈克爵士就躺在那里,
他脚下尽是苏格兰儿郎。
巴巴拉·阿伦
大约在圣马丁节日期间,
绿树叶正凋零坠落纷纷,
西部有一爵士约翰·格雷姆,
恰正好爱上了巴巴拉·阿伦。
约翰他派家人串街走巷,
来到那女方家叩见登门:
“小姐您若就是巴巴拉·阿伦,
请急速随下人去见我的主人。”
一路上阿伦她却慢慢腾腾,
待到得约翰家时已近黄昏,
掀垂帘审视后她开口说道:
“少爵啊依我看您命已沉沦。”
“我身体的确已病入膏肓,
皆因是为把你巴巴拉爱上。”
“您心里虽然啊热血溢漾,
但对我您最好不必这样。”
“可记得,”她问道,“曾有事这样一桩:
您设宴会宾客斟酒举殇,
于席间您把盏轮番祝酒,
却唯独把我啊巴巴拉遗忘。”
约翰他侧转身面壁对墙,
挣扎着倾吐出临终忧伤:
“永别了,永别了,我的亲朋好友,
请切莫亏待她阿伦姑娘。”
巴巴拉慢慢地站起身来,
慢慢地慢慢地离开床头;
叹息着她说道她不能久留,
既然那死神啊已把约翰夺走。
她走了还不到一二英里路,
就听到那丧钟声声哀鸣,
那丧钟每一次敲响一下,
似哭道:“愿阿伦伤心怜悯!”
“母亲啊,母亲啊,请为我备床,
床铺啊要做得又软又窄,
今日啊我的爱为我身亡,
明日啊我为他殉情自埋。”
附两首歌谣的英文原文:
Sir Patrick Spens
The king sits in Dumferling town
Drinking the bluid-red wine:
'O whar will I get a guid sailor
To sail this ship of mine?'
Up and spak an eldern knicht,
Sat at the king's richt knee:
'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That sails upon the sea.'
The king has written a braid letter
And signed it wi' his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
Was walking on the sand.
The first line that Sir Patrick read
A loud lauch lauched he;
The next line that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his ee.
'O wha is this has done this deed,
This ill deed done to me,
To send me out this time o'the year,
To sail upon the sea?
'Mak haste, mak haste, my mirry men all,
Our guid ship sails the morn.'
'O say na sae, my master dear,
For I fear a deadly storm.'
'Late, late yestre'en I saw the new moon
Wi'the old moon in his arm,
And I fear, I fear, my dear master,
That we will come to harm.'
O our Scots nobles were richt laith
To weet their cork-heeled shoon,
But lang or a' the play were played
Their hats they swam aboon.
O lang, lang may their ladies sit,
Wi'their fans into their hand,
Or ere they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come sailing to the land.
O lang, lang may the ladies stand
Wi'their gold kems in their hair,
Waiting for their ain dear lords,
For they'll never see them mair.
Half o'er, half o'er to Aberdour
It's fifty fathoms deep,
And there lies guid Sir Patrick Spens
Wi'the Scots lords at his feet.
Barbara Allan
It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a falling,
That Sir John Graeme in the west country
Fell in love with Barbara Allan.
O Hooly, hooly rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,
And when she drew the curtain by,
'Young man, I think you're dying.'
O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick,
And 't is a' Barbara Allan:'
'O the better for me ye's never be,
Tho your heart's blood were a spilling.
O dinna ye mind, young man,' said she,
'When ye was in the tavern a drinking,
That ye made the healths gae round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allan?'
He turned his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealing:
'Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Barbara Allan.'
And slowly, slowly raise she up,
And slowly, slowly left him,
And sighing said, she coud not stay,
Since death of life had reft him.
She had not gane a mile but two
When she heartd the death-bell ringing,
And every jow that the death-bell geid,
It cry'd, Woe to Barbara Allan!
'O mother, mother make my bed!
O make it saft and narrow!
Since my love died for me to-day,
I'll die for him to-morrow.'