Over Sir John's Hill
在约翰爵爷的山岗上
Over Sir John's hill,
The hawk on fire hangs still;
In a hoisted cloud, at drop of dusk, he pulls to his claws
And gallows, up the rays of his eyes the small birds of the bay
And the shrill child's play
Wars
Of the sparrows and such who swansing, dusk, in wrangling hedges.
And blithely they squawk
To fiery tyburn over the wrestle of elms until
The flash the noosed hawk
Crashes, and slowly the fishing holy stalking heron
In the river Towy below bows his tilted headstone.
在约翰爵爷的山岗上，
燃烧的雄鹰默默地盘旋；
云雾升腾，暮色降临，他伸展威慑的
利爪，锐利的目光触及港湾上飞翔的小鸟，
触及尖叫的孩子戏斗的
麻雀
以及那些在黄昏嘈杂的灌木篱上天鹅般哀鸣的飞禽。
它们咯咯地欢叫
跳上角斗的榆树林上火热的刑场
直到入套的雄鹰猛然
出击，山下托依河里昂首阔步
悠然潜行的圣鹭垂首于倾斜的墓碑。
Flash, and the plumes crack,
And a black cap of jack
Daws Sir John's just hill dons, and again the gulled birds hare
To the hawk on fire, the halter height, over Towy's fins,
In a whack of wind.
There
Where the elegiac fisherbird stabs and paddles
In the pebbly dab-filled
Shallow and sedge, and 'dilly dilly,' calls the loft hawk,
'Come and be killed,'
I open the leaves of the water at a passage
Of psalms and shadows among the pincered sandcrabs prancing
猛然一击，羽毛飞散，
约翰爵爷公正的山岗阁下
戴上一顶寒鸦的黑帽，受骗的鸟群再次快速飞向
燃烧的雄鹰，飞向高悬的刑架，一阵狂风掠过
托依河上闪亮的鱼鳍。
那儿
悲哀的鱼鹰入水觅食
踱步在卵石比目鱼密布的
浅滩和芦苇荡，“宝贝，宝贝”，空中的雄鹰呼唤，
“请过来受死”，
我打开水的页面，翻到圣歌
及其阴影的章节，周围的沙蟹伸展利螯欢快地爬动，
And read, in a shell,
Death clear as a bouy's bell:
All praise of the hawk on fire in hawk-eyed dusk be sung,
When his viperish fuse hangs looped with flames under the brand
Wing, and blest shall
Young
Green chickens of the bay and bushes cluck, 'dilly dilly,
Come let us die.'
We grieve as the blithe birds, never again, leave shingle and elm,
The heron and I,
I young Aesop fabling to the near night by the dingle
Of eels, saint heron hymning in the shell-hung distant
阅读，一枚贝壳里，
死亡浮标铃一样清晰：
在鹰眼的黄昏不断地诵唱，赞美燃烧的雄鹰，
在火红的翅翼下垂悬他恶毒的导火线，
赐福
于
港湾和灌木丛中咯咯欢叫的年幼无知的小鸡，
“宝贝，宝贝，请过来一起受死”。
我们感到悲哀，因为欢乐的鸟群从此离别石滩和榆树，
苍鹭和我，
我年轻的伊索，在鳗鱼的幽谷旁，面对临近的夜晚
讲述寓言，神圣的苍鹭颂唱在贝壳垂挂的远方，
Crystal harbour vale
Where the sea cobbles sail,
And wharves of water where the walls dance and the white cranes stilt.
It is the heron and I, under judging Sir John's elmed
Hill, tell-tale the knelled
Guilt
Of the led-astray birds whom God, for their breast of whistles,
Have mercy on,
God in his whirlwind silence save, who marks the sparrows hail,
For their souls' song.
Now the heron grieves in the weeded verge. Through windows
Of dusk and water I see the tilting whispering
在港湾般透明的幽谷
大海的卵石升起风帆，
在水域码头，岸墙跃动，白鹤亭亭玉立。
苍鹭和我，在法官约翰爵爷的榆树山下，
揭示迷途的
鸟群
犯下的罪孽，上帝因为它们唿哨的胸脯
宽恕它们，
听到麻雀的呼唤，因那灵魂之歌拯救它们，
上帝刮起的旋风一片宁静。
此刻悲哀的苍鹭立在杂草丛生的岸边。
透过黄昏和流水之窗，我看到俯身低语的苍鹭
Heron, mirrored, go,
As the snapt feathers snow,
Fishing in the tear of the Towy. Only a hoot owl
Hollows, a grassblade blown in cupped hands, in the looted elms
And no green cocks or hens
Shout
Now on Sir John's hill. The heron, ankling the scaly
Lowlands of the waves,
Makes all the music; and I who hear the tune of the slow,
Wear-willow river, grave,
Before the lunge of the night, the notes on this time-shaken
Stone for the sake of the souls of the slain birds sailing.
映着河水，捕食
在托依河的泪水中，
而折断的羽毛雪花般飘舞。只有猫头鹰
哀鸣在劫后的榆树林，一片草叶吹入合拢的手心，
此刻约翰爵爷的山岗
不再有
幼稚的雄鸟或雌鸟在啼鸣。苍鸳，走在
波光粼粼的洼地，
奏出所有的乐音；我聆听岸柳相间的河水
缓缓流动的旋律，
在夜晚袭来之前，在这时光摇撼的石头上掩埋
那些音符，为了蒙难鸟群的灵魂安然出航。
作者简介
狄兰·托马斯（Dylan Thomas，1914年10月27日—1953年11月9日），威尔士诗人、作家。最著名的作品包括十九行诗《不要温和地走进那个良夜》（Do not go gentle into that good night）。
