Love’s Decay

A riverside. A boat in the rushes. Two lovers awaiting

the bugle’s call that divides them.

She
The giddy day goes barefoot on the hills,
She hath her scarlet slippers somewhere left
Within the chambers of the sky.
He
And laughs
Teasing away poor night with globes of flame
From the deep woods. She hides for sleep poor thing,
The mother of sleep who knows no good but sleep
Within the lily’s funnel and the folds
Of shadowy purple in the rose’s heart,
In hanging foxgloves and the quiet river
And in the shadows of your spinning wheel.
She
You like a lover gaze into her eyes,
What see you there oh wooer of night?
He
The lure and mystery of things a-dying.
She
Then look no more, my wooer of the night.
Ah gaze no more on her nor on the earth
The loneliest dewdrop in the midst of space,
The old and bitter earth has never loved,
Nor gaze along the wood its spirit loved
To madness in his youth and was deceived
And he is now all sighs. Gaze thou on me
And I will laugh and you’ll be scarce so sad.
But ah, you’re gazing on the wood and sky,
I loved them once but now I have no joy
Save only thee: the blue of yon kingfisher
Frets me—the useless fire.
He
I have no joy
Save only thee: the blue of yon faint star
That holdeth her unending festival
In a wild songless melancholy waste
Is throbbing as a fever in my brain.
Oh dear one, lace thine hands across mine eyes
And I will see no more my wanderings
At thy young feet all restlessness hath died
And I could weave forever daisy chains
As children do their whole philosophy
To watch with solemn eyes the devious chain
Grow in the grass. I could well nigh forget
The lonely voice of yonder violet star
That sings how endlessly from star to star
The angels sweep, for them the burthen is
Of the eternal loneliness. Far down
Within the deeps, so sings the star, God broods
With rugged brows and never resting eyes,
Ere any world was born he rose from sleep
That no beginning knew and saw his loneliness,
And being filled with fear of the vast spaces
That had no voice and fear of his dread self
He snatched from his own spirit flakes of fire
And hurled them with a cry into the dark.
Thus angels formed he and talking worlds,
And hid them buzz away his loneliness
And mourns the voice of yonder violet star.
They are the tongues of his own loneliness
And such am I, these hands, thy glimmering eyes,
Thy lingering mouth, and all that moves and loves.
Oh lay thy fluttering fingers o’er mine eyes
My sweet, and I will cry the wild star lies.
She
Star of the foam tossed up before my feet,
O would that none before us ever loved.
(A trumpet sounds.)
He
Away my destiny.
She
Oh let me fix
This red rose in your cap I scarce can reach
You are so tall—so tall. How many girls
Have stood a tiptoe weaving roses round
False lovers’ caps?
He
A thousand.
She
More than that,
Ah more than that.
(The trumpet sounds.)
He
I cannot stay, farewell.
She (letting the rose fall)
Ah stay till I have perched the rose above
Your peaked cap. See where amid the shade
The soft rose shines. I’ll pull another—thus!
And lay it gently down beside the first.
They are the shadowy eyes of maidens’ loves
That had no voice and gazed away their life,
So when they died the pitying spirits bid
The roses be their musing eyes, and thee
And me they’re watching now those envious souls
Through yonder crimson gaze—Kiss me beloved.
(The trumpet sounds.)
Ah heed it not, leave wandering for the waves
And for the winds that walk among the stars.
(He steps into the boat.)
She (slowly fixing the rose in his cap and bursting into tears)
You will forget me soon
Oh dear one hate me rather than forget.
(The trumpet sound; he pushes off into the river.
On the far side a procession of girls pass carrying
a statue of the virgin and singing a song.)
Oh Mary keep the million hands of battle
Harmless as thine own hands when there go by
The young men or amid the ignorant rattle
Of dizzy war they may drop down and die
Before they live.
God gave the hawk for meed
To spring through voiceless caverns of the sky,
His spirit worn with suffering of speed
Immeasurable. Let him drop down and die
For he has lived.
Rapture of alien laughter
Breaking the sloth of woods with many a cry
God gave the gypsy children and there after
Passion of wandering let them drop and die
For they have lived.
God gave the salmon wary
The long and piping rivers lapsing by
As us the weary spindle—may they die
For they have lived.
A Voice Singing Alone
Hear me oh mother Mary,
Let not my lover be mongst those who die
Our love’s the youngest thing beneath the sky,
White Mary.

爱的衰减

一条河边。蒲草丛中一条小船。

两个等待号角召唤而分手的恋人。

　　她：
疯傻的白昼赤脚在山丘上走，
她把她那猩红的拖鞋丢在了
天宫之中的什么地方。
　　他：
　　　　　　　　　　大笑着
用火球把可怜的夜从深林里逗引
出来。她藏起来睡觉，可怜的东西，
睡眠之母，她什么也不懂，除了在
百合的漏斗和玫瑰的心里层层
镶有阴影的紫红色褶皱里边，
在花头垂悬的毛地黄和静静河水
以及你旋转的纺轮的阴影中睡觉。
　　她：
你像个恋人凝视她的眼睛，
在那里你看见什么哟，夜的追求者？
　　他：
濒死之物的诱惑和神秘。
　　她：
那就别再看，我的夜的追求者。
别再凝视她，也别凝视大地，
宇宙中间最为孤独的露珠啊，
古老而苦涩的大地从未爱过；
也别沿山林凝视，林中精灵
年轻时爱到发疯，遭到欺骗，
现在都成了叹息。你凝视我吧！
我会大笑，你不会如此悲哀。
But ah, you’re gazing on the wood and sky,
我一度爱过它们，但现在没快乐，
除了只有你：那边翠鸟的蓝色
令我伤心——无用之火。
　　他：
　　　　　　　　　　　没快乐，
除了只有你：暗淡星光的蓝色
在我头脑中发烧悸动；在一片
没有歌声的忧郁荒野中，星星
举行着她那无休无止的节庆。
噢，亲爱的，用双手蒙住我双眼，
我就不再会看见我的流浪；
你年轻的脚前，一切不安都死去，
我就能永远编制雏菊花链，
就好像儿童运用全部智慧
眼神肃穆地注视那迂曲链条
在草丛生长。我就能近乎忘却
那遥远紫色星辰的孤寂歌喉
歌唱众天使如何从星辰到星辰
无尽地飞掠，对于他们，负担
来自永恒的孤寂。远远下方
海洋深处，星辰如是唱，上帝
扬眉睁眼永不休息沉思着：
在世界诞生前，祂从无始长眠
之中起身，眼看到祂的孤寂，
由于充满对阒无人声的广大
空间和担惊受怕的自身的恐惧，
祂从自己的圣灵上揪下一把
火花，大喊一声扔到黑暗中。
如是祂造就了天使和说话的世界，
命它们喋喋排遣祂的寂寞；
那遥远紫色星辰的歌喉哀吟。
它们是祂自己的寂寞的喉舌，
还有我、这些手、你那闪亮的眼睛、
嚅动的嘴、一切活动和恋爱者。
啊，用你轻颤的手指蒙住我的眼，
我的甜，我就会大喊那野星星撒谎了。
　　她：
浪花的星星在我脚前飞溅，
啊，但愿我们之前无人爱过。
（号角声响。）
　　他：
走吧，我的命运！
　　她：
　　　　　啊，让我把这
红玫瑰插上你头盔，你这么高大，
高大得我都够不着。有多少女孩
曾踮起脚跟给假意情郎头盔上
戴玫瑰花环？
　　他：
　　　　　　　一千个。
　　她：
　　　　　　　　　　　比这要多，
啊，比这要多。
（号角声响。）
　　他：
　　　　　　　我不能留下，再见。
　　她：（让玫瑰掉落）
等等啊，等到我把玫瑰插上
你高耸的头盔。看那温柔的玫瑰
闪耀在阴凉处。我还要摘一朵——这样！
把它轻轻地放在第一朵旁边。
它们是少女的爱情有浓荫的双眼，
没有歌喉，在凝视中虚度一生，
所以在它们死后，怜悯的精灵
命玫瑰当它们沉思的眼睛，那些
羡妒的灵魂此刻正透过那深红
目光注视着你我——吻我，亲爱的。
（号角声响。）
啊，别在意，漫游去吧，到海浪，
到行走在群星中间的风里去吧。
（他步入船中。）
　　她：（慢慢地把玫瑰花插在他头盔上，失声痛哭）
　　　　　　　你很快就会忘记我。
噢，亲爱的，恨我也别忘记吧！
（号角声响；他撑船离岸入河。
远在彼岸，一队少女抬着圣母雕像
走过，唱着一支歌。）
那里有青年走过，在愚昧战争
无知的杀声中，他们或许倒下，
未活已先死，马利亚，请您保证
百万双战斗之手像您的手爪
一样无害吧。
　　　　　　上帝给猎鹰酬劳，
它飞跃穿过天空无声的孔隙，
精神受无法测量的速度煎熬
而疲惫不堪。就让它坠地而死，
因为它活过。
　　　　　　上帝赐给吉卜赛
儿童异类笑声的狂喜，用密集
叫喊打破树林的慵懒，后来是
流浪的激情。让他们倒地而死，
他们已活过。
　　　　　　上帝给谨慎鲑鱼
吹奏着风笛缓缓流过的长溪，
给我们厌倦纺锤——愿它们死去，
它们已活过。
　　　一个声音独唱
请垂听，圣母马利亚哟，
请别让我的爱人与死者为伍，
我们的爱是天下最年轻之物，
洁白的马利亚哟！

傅浩　译

附

But ah, you’re gazing on the wood and sky: 此行似乎傅浩似乎漏译。

逗引：个人认为这里说的是日出，所以应该翻译成「逗走」。

well nigh: almost.

Ere: before time.

维护者注——

纺锤：古希腊神话中有司命运三女神，其一用纺锤纺出生命之线，其二决定线之长短，其三负责把线剪断。此处纺锤应即喻指人生。

叶芝诗集（增订本） 2018 ——

“This dramatic poem provides an early example of Yeats’s dialogue poetry, which would later feature speakers like “Hic” and “Ille” in “Ego Dominus Tuus” or “The Soul” and “The Heart” of the seventh section of “Vacillation.” Here the conjunction of star, boat, and lovers owes something to Yeats’s reading of Shelley. In his essay “The Philosophy of Shelley’s Poetry” (1900), Yeats identified his predecessor’s characteristic vision as “a boat drifting down a broad river between high hills where there were caves and towers, and following the light of one Star” (E&I 95). The poem’s concluding procession of girls invoking Mary seems more a generalized religious reference, possibly medieval, than a specifically Irish one.

A canceled line in the manuscript made the psychological situation more specific than it appears in the final version: “He is faithless to her and to his cause. She suspects perhaps.” The manuscript itself appears on loose leaves contained in a black notebook. Like the other materials in the notebook—a song from The Island of Statues and a draft of the opening lines of Time and the Witch Vivien—“Love’s Decay” probably dates from 1884-85.

George Bornstein—