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September 14, 2008

Hoelderlin

Filed under: Poems, GGVV

因为读一篇文章(Poetry and Madness, Connected or Not?-and the Case of Hoelderlin by Elizabeth Sewell), 荷尔德林引起我的兴趣。。。

Hyperions Schicksalslied
Ihr wandelt droben im Licht
Auf weichem Boden, selige Genien !
Glänzende Götterlüfte
Rühren euch leicht,
Wie die Finger der Künstlerin
Heilige Saiten.

Schicksallos, wie der schlafende
Säugling, atmen die Himmlischen;
Keusch bewahrt
In bescheidener Knospe,
Blühet ewig
Ihnen der Geist,
Und die seligen Augen
Blicken in stiller
Ewiger Klarheit.

Doch uns ist gegeben,
Auf keiner Stätte zu ruhn,
Es schwinden, es fallen
Die leidenden Menschen
Blindlings von einer
Stunde zur andern,
Wie Wasser von Klippe
Zu Klippe geworfen,
Jahr lang ins Ungewisse hinab.

 
Hyperion’s Song of Destiny

Holy spirits, you walk up there
    in the light, on soft earth.
            Shining god-like breezes
                  touch upon you gently,
                         as a woman’s fingers
                               play music on holy strings.
 

Like sleeping infants the gods
      breathe without any plan;
        the spirit flourishes continually
            in them, chastely kept,
                         as in a small bud,
                                and their holy eyes
                                       look out in still
                                              eternal clearness.

A place to rest
    isn’t given to us.
          Suffering humans
                decline and blindly fall
                       from one hour to the next,
                              like water thrown
                                    from cliff to cliff,
                                         year after year,
                                               down into the Unknown.

Translated by James Mitchell 

许贝利翁的命运之歌

你们徘徊在神秘的光中
   在丰收的大地上
     充盈着欢欣的天才啊
        微风神圣地闪烁
          轻轻地触动你们
             就象艺术家的手指
                拨动了圣洁的琴弦

在命运之先
  在熟睡中滋生 呼吸着不朽
     圣洁地保存一切
        在新芽之中
           而精神永远盛开 灿烂
              啊 这些满是欢欣的眼睛
                静寂地观照着
                   永恒的澄明

但是我们却失去了
   栖息的家园
      人性的崇高
         盲目地一点点沉沦 消失
            就象撞落在悬崖上的浪花
               又无知地扑向另一个悬崖
                  年复一年 没有目的

宋非 译

 

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