Yimusanfendi

The Waste Land

BY T. S. ELIOT 

For EZRA POUND IL MIGLIOR FABBRO

荒原 （新译， by Yimusanfendi)

“是的，我亲眼看见古米的西比尔在笼中吊在悬梁。
当时孩子们问她：西比尔，你要什么？
她回答说，我要死亡。”

（献给埃兹拉·庞德
更卓越的匠人）

I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD 

死者的埋葬

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding 
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing 
Memory and desire, stirring 
Dull roots with spring rain. 

四月是最残忍的月份，
紫丁香从死的土地里滋生，
混杂着回忆和欲望，
用春雨挑动着呆滞的根。 

Winter kept us warm, covering 5 
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding 
A little life with dried tubers. 

冬天使我们保持了温暖，
将大地覆盖在健忘的雪里，
用干的根茎，喂养一个小的生命。 

Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee 
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, 
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 10 
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. 

夏天来到斯坦伯格斯，很让我们惊讶，
随着一阵骤雨；我们停留在廊桥下， 
在阳光中继续前行，进到郝夫加登 ，
喝了些咖啡，又闲谈了一个时辰

Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch. 

我不是俄国人，我祖籍立陶宛，我是个地道的德国人。 

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, 
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, 
And I was frightened. He said, Marie, 15 
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. 
In the mountains, there you feel free. 
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. 

我们做孩子的时侯，在大公爵家中停留，
那是我表兄的家，他带我坐着雪撬出游， 
我很怕。他说，玛丽，玛丽， 
抓紧了啊。于是我们一滑而下。 
在众山里，在那里你感到自由。
晚上我大多是在读书，在冬天里向南方迁走。 

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow 
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, 20 
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only 
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, 
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, 
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only 
There is shadow under this red rock, 25 

那紧抓着的根是什么，
是什么枝丫从这乱石堆中长出？
人子啊， 你不能说，也不能猜，因为你只知道 
一堆破碎的影象，在那里被太阳击打， 
而死树不能遮荫，蟋蟀不能使人解脱， 
干燥的岩石上发不出水流的潺声。
只在这红色的岩石下有一片阴影，

(Come in under the shadow of this red rock), 
And I will show you something different from either 
Your shadow at morning striding behind you 
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; 
I will show you fear in a handful of dust. 30 
 
（来吧，请走进这红岩石的阴影） ，
我将给你看那大不相同的事情
它不同于早晨你的身影，紧跟在你身后，
也不同于夜间你的身影，起来与你相迎， 
我要给你看那在一撮尘土中的恐惧战兢。 

Frisch weht der Wind 
Der Heimat zu. 
Mein Irisch Kind, 
Wo weilest du? 

清新的风
吹向我的家乡。
我的爱尔兰小姑娘，
如今你在何方？

'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; 35 
'They called me the hyacinth girl.' 
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, 
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not 
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither 
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, 40 
Looking into the heart of light, the silence. 
Od' und leer das Meer. 

“你第一次给我风信子花是在一年前， 
他们叫我风信子女孩。” 
——但当我们从风信子花园归来，那时天色已晚， 
你的头发湿漉，你的双臂抱满，
我说不出话来，两眼也无法看，
我既非活着又未死去，什么都不知悉， 
看进那光的中央深处，一片静寂。 
大海啊, 空虚又荒僻。 

Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, 
Had a bad cold, nevertheless 
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe, 45 
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she, 
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor, 
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!) 
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, 
The lady of situations. 50 
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel, 
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card, 
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back, 
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find 
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water. 55 
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. 
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, 
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself: 
One must be so careful these days. 

著名的女巫婆，索索斯垂丝夫人，
她患了重感冒，虽然如此，
仍被公认是欧洲最有智慧的妇人。 
她有一副邪恶的奇妙纸牌。
她说， 淹死的腓尼基水手，这里是你的牌， 
（那些珍珠曾经是他的眼睛。看！） 
这里是贝拉多娜，岩石女郎， 
她是多种境况下的女人。
这里有一张牌画着人与三个杖，
这张是轮盘， 这里是那独眼的商人，
还有这张空白的牌，他将它驮在背上， 
不让我看见。我没有发现
那个被绞死的人。请小心因为水而死亡。 
我看见一群群的人，沿着一个圆圈转着步行。 
谢谢你。你如果看见伊奎通太太， 
告诉她我得亲自把星象图带去： 
这些日子人要非常小心谨慎。 

Unreal City, 60 
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, 
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, 
I had not thought death had undone so many. 
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, 
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. 65 
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street, 
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours 
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine. 
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying 'Stetson! 
'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! 70 
'That corpse you planted last year in your garden, 
'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? 
'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? 
'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men, 
'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again! 75 
'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!' 

虚幻的城， 
在冬天黎明时分的棕色雾霾之下， 
一群人如水一般流过伦敦桥，这么多 
我没有想到死亡毁灭了的人有这么多。 
人们呼吸着发出短短的异样的轻叹，
每个人都将目光定睛在自己的脚前。 
人群流上山坡又流下威廉王大街， 
到达圣玛丽乌尔诺斯教堂计时的地方，
在那里钟正敲着九点钟最后死亡的一响。 
在那儿我看到一个熟人，我拦住他，向他说道： 
“史太森！你在米列海战时与我同在船上！ 
去年在你的花园里你种下的尸体， 
它已经开始发芽了吗？今年它能否开花？ 
突然的霜冻是否挠乱了它的花床？ 
哦，请让狗离得远远的，它是人类的朋友， 
不然他会用爪子又把它挖出掘起！ 
你呀，假冒伪善的读者——我的同胞，我的兄弟！”