莫笑愚 | 译诗：泰戈尔《飞鸟集》（81-120）

诗人莫笑愚

迷途鸟¹ 泰戈尔文莫笑愚译 81 这从未见过的黑暗之焰是什么？星光是它的闪烁。 82 就让生命美如夏花，死亡静如秋叶。 83 欲行善之人在门口敲门；怀有爱心之人发现门敞开着。 84 死让众生归一；活是一生万物。 当神死亡，宗教归一。 85 艺术家是大自然的情人，因此他既是她的奴隶，也是她的主人。 86 “啊，果实，你离我有多远？” “啊，花儿，我藏在你心里。” 87 在黑夜被感知、在白昼遁形者，这渴望是为了你。 88 露珠对湖水说：“你是荷叶下的大露珠，我是荷叶上的小露珠。” 89 为保护剑的锋利，剑鞘情愿是哑钝的。 90 在黑暗中，太一是一统；在光明中，太一是多元。 91 茵茵草地使辽阔的大地显得宜人。 92 叶子的诞生与死亡是涡流的急速旋转，其更宽阔的环流在群星间缓缓移动。 93 权力对世界说：“你是我的。” 世界在她的王位上囚禁了权力。 爱情对世界说：“我是你的。” 世界将她广厦的自由给予了爱情。 94 薄雾就像大地的渴望。 遮蔽了她呼唤的太阳。 95 我的心啊，要宁静，这些大树是祷文。 96 一瞬的喧嚣嘲弄这永恒的音乐。 97 我想到其他的年代在生命的溪流上漂浮，爱与死亡被遗忘，而我感到了死亡的自由。 98 我灵魂的哀伤是她新娘的面纱。 在夜晚等待被揭开。 99 死亡之印赋予生命之币以价值；使得用生命购买真正的宝藏成为可能。 100 白云垂立，在天之一隅。黎明初启，为晨霞冠金。 101 尘埃受之以辱报之以花。 102 不必流连，为了拥有花朵而去采集。往前走，花儿将随你一路绽放。 103 根是地下的枝。 枝是空中的根。 104 夏日远去，余音在秋天萦绕，寻找它的旧巢。 105 不要侮辱你的朋友，把你的优点安在他的头上。 106 那些无以名状的日子的抚摸，像老树周身的苔藓，紧贴在我的心口。 107 回声嘲笑她的源头以证明她才是原声。 108 神感到羞愧，当富人夸耀得到他的特别恩宠。 109 我将自己的影子投射在路途，因为我有一盏灯尚未被点燃。 110 人靠走进嘈杂的人群来淹没自己无声的喧哗。 111 止于衰竭的是死亡，但是完美的结局在无尽中。 112 太阳身着简素光袍，云彩则身披华裳。 113 群山像欢呼雀跃的孩子们，高举他们的手臂，试图摘下星星。 114 拥挤的道路是寂寞的，由于无人爱它。 115 权力吹嘘它的恶行，被飘落的黄叶和流逝的云朵耻笑。 116 今天，大地在阳光下向我嗡鸣，像纺纱的女人，用被忘却的语言哼唱古老的歌谣。 117 草叶无愧于生长于斯的伟大世界。 118 梦是非说话不可的妻子。 睡眠是默默忍受的丈夫。 119 夜晚亲吻逝去的白昼，在他耳边低语：“我是死亡，你的母亲。我将给你新生。” 120 黑夜啊，我感到你的美，如同被爱着的女人熄灭她的灯盏。 （2019.02.24.译，于北京） ————————译注：¹ 《迷途鸟》又译作《飞鸟集》。 附原文： 81 What is this unseen flame of darkness whose sparks are the stars? 82 Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves. 83 He who wants to do good knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the gate open. 84 In death the many becomes one; in life the one becomes many. Religion will be one when God is dead. 85 The artist is the lover of Nature, therefore he is her slave and her master. 86 “How far are you from me, O Fruit?“ “I am hidden in your heart, O Flower.“ 87 This longing is for the one who is felt in the dark, but not seen in the day. 88 “You are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, I am the smaller one on its upper side,“ said the dewdrop to the lake. 89 The scabbard is content to be dull when it protects the keenness of the sword. 90 In darkness the One appears as uniform; in the light the One appears as manifold. 91 The great earth makes herself hospitable with the help of the grass. 92 The birth and death of the leaves are the rapid whirls of the eddy whose wider circles move slowly among stars. 93 Power said to the world, “You are mine." The world kept it prisoner on her throne. Love said to the world, “I am thine.“ The world gave it the freedom of her house. 94 The mist is like the earth“s desire. It hides the sun for whom she cries. 95 Be still, my heart, these great trees are prayers. 96 The noise of the moment scoffs at the music of the Eternal. 97 I think of other ages that floated upon the stream of life and love and death and are forgotten, and I feel the freedom of passing away. 98 The sadness of my soul is her bride's veil. It waits to be lifted in the night. 99 Death's stamp gives value to the coin of life; making it possible to buy with life what is truly precious. 100 The cloud stood humbly in a corner of the sky. The morning crowned it with splendour. 101 The dust receives insult and in return offers her flowers. 102 Do not linger to gather flowers to keep them, but walk on, for flowers will keep themselves blooming all your way. 103* Roots are the branches down in the earth. Branches are roots in the air. 104 The music of the far-away summer flutters around the Autumn seeking its former nest. 105 Do not insult your friend by lending him merits from your own pocket. 106 The touch of the nameless days clings to my heart like mosses round the old tree. 107 The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original. 108 God is ashamed when the prosperous boasts of His special favour. 109 I cast my own shadow upon my path, because I have a lamp that has not been lighted. 110 Man goes into the noisy crowed to drown his own clamour of silence. 111 That which ends in exhaustion is death, but the perfect ending is in the endless. 112 The sun has his simple robe of light. The clouds are decked with gorgeousness. 113 The hills are like shouts of children who raise their arms, trying to catch stars. 114 The road is lonely in its crowd for it is not loved. 115 The power that boasts of its mischiefs is laughed at by the yellow leaves that fall, and clouds that pass by. 116 The earth hums to me today in the sun, like a woman at her spinning, some ballad of the ancient time in a forgotten tongue. 117 The grass-blade is worthy of the great world where it grows. 118 Dream is a wife who must talk, Sleep is a husband who silently suffers. 119 The night kisses the fading day whispering to his ear, "I am death, your mother. I am to give you fresh birth." 120 I feel thy beauty, dark night, like that of the loved woman when she has put out the lamp.