拜伦《哀希腊》之不同译本

拜伦《哀希腊》及各种译本

The Isles of Greece

THE

isles

of

Greece!

the

isles

of

Greece!

Where burning Sappho loved and sung,

Where grew the arts of war and peace,---

Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprung!

Eternal summer gilds them yet,

But all, except their sun, is set.

The Scian and the Teian muse,

The hero's harp, the lover's lute,

Have found the fame your shores refuse;

Their place of birth alone is mute

To sounds which echo further west

Than your sires'

The mountains look on Marathon---

And Marathon looks on the sea;

And musing there an hour alone,

I dream'd that Greece might yet be free

For, standing on the Persians' grave,

I could not deem myself a slave.

A king sat on the rocky brow

Which looks on sea-born Salamis;

And ships, by thousands, lay below,

And men in nations;---all were his!

He counted them at break of day---

And when the sun set, where were they?

And where are they? and where art thou,

My country? On thy voiceless shore

The heroic lay is tuneless now---

The heroic bosom beats no more!

And must thy lyre, so long divine,

Degenerate into hands like mine?

'Tis something, in the dearth of fame,

Though link'd among a fetter'd race,

To feel at least a patriot's shame,

Even as I sing, suffuse my face;

For what is left the poet here?

For Greeks a blush---for Greece a tear.

Must we but weep o'er days more blest?

Must we but blush?---Our fathers bled.

Earth! render back from out thy breast

A remnant of our Spartan dead!

Of the three hundred grant but three,

To make a new Thermopylae.

What, silent still, and silent all?

Ah! no; the voices of the dead

Sound like a distant torrent's fall,

And answer,

But one arise,---we come, we come!

'Tis but the living who are dumb.

In vain---in vain: strike other chords;

Fill high the cup of Samian wine!

Leave battles to the Turkish hordes,

And shed the blood of Scio's vine!

Hark! rising to the ignoble call---

How answers each bold bacchanal!

You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet,

Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone?

Of two such lessons, why forget

The nobler and the manlier one?

You have the letters Cadmus gave---

Think ye he meant them for a slave?

Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!

We will not think of themes like these!

It made Anacreon's song divine;

He served---but served Polycrates---

A tyrant; but our masters then

Were still, at least, our countrymen.

The tyrant of the Chersonese

Was freedom's best and bravest friend;

That tyrant was Miltiades!

Oh! that the present hour would lend

Another despot of the kind!

Such chains as his were sure to bind.

- 1 -

Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!

On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore,

Exists the remnant of a line

Such as the Doric mothers bore;

And there, perhaps, some seed is sown,

The Heracleidan blood might own.

Trust not for freedom to the Franks---

They have a king who buys and sells:

In native swords and native ranks,

The only hope of courage dwells:

But Turkish force and Latin fraud

Would

break

your

shield,

however

broad.

Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!

Our virgins dance beneath the shade---

I see their glorious black eyes shine;

But, gazing on each glowing maid,

My own the burning tear- drop laves,

To think such breasts must suckle slaves.

Place me on Sunium's marble steep---

Where nothing, save the waves and I,

May hear our mutual murmurs sweep:

There, swan-like, let me sing and die;

A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine---

Dash down yon cup of Samian wine!

梁启超：见所著《新中国未来记》

【沉醉东风】咳！希腊啊，希腊啊 ！

你本是和平年代的爱娇，你本是战争

时代的天骄。

“撒藏波”歌声高，女

诗人热情好，更有那“德 罗士”

、

“菲

波士”荣光常照。此地是 艺文旧垒，

技术中潮。即今在否，算除却太阳光

线，万般没了。

【如梦 忆桃源】玛拉顿后啊，山容缥

缈，玛拉顿前啊，海门环绕。如此好

河山，也应该有自由回照！我向那波

斯军墓门凭眺，难道我 为奴为隶，今

生便了？不信我为奴为隶，今生便了

!

马君武：

哀希腊歌

希腊岛，希腊岛，诗人沙孚安在哉？

爱国之诗传最早。

战争平和万千术，其术皆自希腊出。

德娄飞布两英雄，渊源皆是希腊族。

吁嗟乎！漫说年年夏日长，万般消歇

剩斜阳。

马拉顿后山如带，马其顿前横碧海。

我来独为片刻游，犹梦希腊是自由。

< br>吁嗟乎！闲立试向波斯冢，宁思身为

奴隶种。

希腊之民不可遇，希腊之国在何处？

但余海岸似当年，海岸沉沉亦无语。

多少英雄古代诗，至今传诵泪犹垂。

琴荒瑟老豪华歇，当是英雄气尽时。

吁嗟乎！欲作神圣希腊歌，才薄其奈