The Corsair 海盗生涯
拜伦
'O'ER the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
在暗蓝色的海上，海水在欢快地泼溅，
Our thoughts as boundless, and our soul's as free
我们的心如此自由，思绪辽远无边。
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
广袤啊，凡长风吹拂之地、凡海波翻卷之处，
Survey our empire, and behold our home!
量一量我们的版图，看一看我们的家乡！
These are our realms, no limits to their sway-
这全是我们的帝国，它的权力横扫一切，
Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
我们的旗帜就是王笏，所遇莫有不从。
Ours the wild life in tumult still to range
我们豪放的生涯，在风暴的交响中破浪，
From toil to rest, and joy in every change.
从劳作到休息，尽皆欢乐的时光。
Oh, who can tell? not thou, luxurious slave!
这美境谁能体会？绝不是你，娇养的奴仆！
Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave;
你的灵魂对着起伏的波浪就会退缩。
Not thou, vain lord of wantonness and ease!
更不是你安乐和荒淫的虚荣的贵族！
whom slumber soothes not - pleasure cannot please -
睡眠不能抚慰你，欢乐不能感染你。
Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried,
谁知道那乐趣，除非他的心灵受过创痛的洗礼，
And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide,
而又在广阔的海洋上骄傲地翱翔过，
The exulting sense - the pulse's maddening play,
那狂喜之感--那脉搏畅快的跳动，
That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way?
这只有绝境求生的漂泊者才能体会。
That for itself can woo the approaching fight,
为这快乐，我们迎向战斗；
And turn what some deem danger to delight;
为这快乐，我们享受着冒险。
That seeks what cravens shun with more than zeal,
凡是懦夫躲避的，我们反热烈追寻，
And where the feebler faint can only feel -
那使衰弱的人晕绝的，我们反而感到--
Feel - to the rising bosom's inmost core,
感到在我们博大胸怀的最深处
Its hope awaken and Its spirit soar?
希望在苏醒，精灵在翱翔。
No dread of death if with us die our foes -
我们不畏死亡--宁愿与敌人战死一处，
Save that it seems even duller than repose:
虽然，没能寿终正寝会让人略觉遗憾。
Come when it will - we snatch the life of life -
来吧，随上天高兴，我们攫取了生中之生，
When lost - what recks it but disease or strife?
如果倒下--谁在乎是死于刀剑还是疾病？
Let him who crawls enamour'd of decay,
让那些爬行的人去跟“衰老”长久缠绵；
Cling to his couch, and sicken years away:
让他们粘在自己的卧榻上，苦度年岁；
Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head;
让他们摇着麻痹的头颅，喘着艰难的呼吸。
Ours - the fresh turf; and not the feverish bed.
我们不要病床，宁可静躺在清新的草地上。
While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul,
让他们一喘一喘地咳出自己的灵魂吧！
Ours with one pang - one bound - escapes control.
我们只在一刹那的疼痛中超脱出肉体。
His corpse may boast its urn and narrow cave,
让他们的尸首去炫耀坟穴和骨灰瓮，
And they who loath'd his life may gild his grave:
憎恨他一生的人会给他的墓座镶金。
Ours are the tears, though few, sincerely shed,
而我们的葬礼将伴随珍贵的真情之泪，
When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead.
由海波抚盖、收容下我们的躯体。
For us, even banquets fond regret supply
之后，即便是欢宴也会带来深心的痛惜，
In the red cup that crowns our memory;
在红色的酒杯中旋起我们的记忆。
And the brief epitaph in danger's day,
呵，危难的岁月最终化作简短的墓志铭，
When those who win at length divide the prey,
胜利的伙伴平分宝藏，但却潸然泪下。
And cry, Remembrance saddening o'er each brow,
那一刻，回忆让每一个同伴垂首致哀，
How had the brave who fell exulted now!'
那一刻，倒下的勇士得以欣然长辞。
'O'ER the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
在暗蓝色的海上，海水在欢快地泼溅，
Our thoughts as boundless, and our soul's as free
我们的心如此自由，思绪辽远无边。
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
广袤啊，凡长风吹拂之地、凡海波翻卷之处，
Survey our empire, and behold our home!
量一量我们的版图，看一看我们的家乡！
These are our realms, no limits to their sway-
这全是我们的帝国，它的权力横扫一切，
Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
我们的旗帜就是王笏，所遇莫有不从。
Ours the wild life in tumult still to range
我们豪放的生涯，在风暴的交响中破浪，
From toil to rest, and joy in every change.
从劳作到休息，尽皆欢乐的时光。
Oh, who can tell? not thou, luxurious slave!
这美境谁能体会？绝不是你，娇养的奴仆！
Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave;
你的灵魂对着起伏的波浪就会退缩。
Not thou, vain lord of wantonness and ease!
更不是你安乐和荒淫的虚荣的贵族！
whom slumber soothes not - pleasure cannot please -
睡眠不能抚慰你，欢乐不能感染你。
Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried,
谁知道那乐趣，除非他的心灵受过创痛的洗礼，
And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide,
而又在广阔的海洋上骄傲地翱翔过，
The exulting sense - the pulse's maddening play,
那狂喜之感--那脉搏畅快的跳动，
That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way?
这只有绝境求生的漂泊者才能体会。
That for itself can woo the approaching fight,
为这快乐，我们迎向战斗；
And turn what some deem danger to delight;
为这快乐，我们享受着冒险。
That seeks what cravens shun with more than zeal,
凡是懦夫躲避的，我们反热烈追寻，
And where the feebler faint can only feel -
那使衰弱的人晕绝的，我们反而感到--
Feel - to the rising bosom's inmost core,
感到在我们博大胸怀的最深处
Its hope awaken and Its spirit soar?
希望在苏醒，精灵在翱翔。
No dread of death if with us die our foes -
我们不畏死亡--宁愿与敌人战死一处，
Save that it seems even duller than repose:
虽然，没能寿终正寝会让人略觉遗憾。
Come when it will - we snatch the life of life -
来吧，随上天高兴，我们攫取了生中之生，
When lost - what recks it but disease or strife?
如果倒下--谁在乎是死于刀剑还是疾病？
Let him who crawls enamour'd of decay,
让那些爬行的人去跟“衰老”长久缠绵；
Cling to his couch, and sicken years away:
让他们粘在自己的卧榻上，苦度年岁；
Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head;
让他们摇着麻痹的头颅，喘着艰难的呼吸。
Ours - the fresh turf; and not the feverish bed.
我们不要病床，宁可静躺在清新的草地上。
While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul,
让他们一喘一喘地咳出自己的灵魂吧！
Ours with one pang - one bound - escapes control.
我们只在一刹那的疼痛中超脱出肉体。
His corpse may boast its urn and narrow cave,
让他们的尸首去炫耀坟穴和骨灰瓮，
And they who loath'd his life may gild his grave:
憎恨他一生的人会给他的墓座镶金。
Ours are the tears, though few, sincerely shed,
而我们的葬礼将伴随珍贵的真情之泪，
When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead.
由海波抚盖、收容下我们的躯体。
For us, even banquets fond regret supply
之后，即便是欢宴也会带来深心的痛惜，
In the red cup that crowns our memory;
在红色的酒杯中旋起我们的记忆。
And the brief epitaph in danger's day,
呵，危难的岁月最终化作简短的墓志铭，
When those who win at length divide the prey,
胜利的伙伴平分宝藏，但却潸然泪下。
And cry, Remembrance saddening o'er each brow,
那一刻，回忆让每一个同伴垂首致哀，
How had the brave who fell exulted now!'
那一刻，倒下的勇士得以欣然长辞。