NAGA 及福全兩位大師!聖旨到!

奉天承運,學姐詔曰:

講到威廉布萊克(WILLIAM BLAKE),學姐找了兩首詩,她手受傷,囑我貼上請兩位大師翻譯. 當然,這種事不能強迫,看兩位意思如何. 兩位文風迥異,似乎讓這兩種風格一起出現比較好,可否循上次模式,再來一遍? 沒有截稿日期.

這回有兩首,第二首只節錄一半,都是 WILLIAM BLAKE 寫的,維根斯坦很仰慕 WILLIAM BLAKE 的文風畫風和思維內涵. 詩如下:

陳真 2005. 8. 1.

=============
The Fly

BY WILLIAM BLAKE

From Songs of Experience (http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/blake/collections/songs_of_experience.html)

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance,
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly.
If I live,
Or if I die.

==================
Auguries of Innocence

BY WILLIAM BLAKE

TO see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill'd with doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his Master's Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A Horse misus'd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear.
A Skylark wounded in the wing,
A Cherubim does cease to sing.
The Game Cock clipp'd and arm'd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright.
Every Wolf's & Lion's howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul.
The wild deer, wand'ring here & there,
Keeps the Human Soul from Care.
The Lamb misus'd breeds public strife
And yet forgives the Butcher's Knife.
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that won't believe.
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belov'd by Men.
He who the Ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by Woman lov'd.
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spider's enmity.
He who torments the Chafer's sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night.
The Catterpillar on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mother's grief.
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly,
For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.