【译诗】 《一个寒冷的春天》 伊丽莎白 毕晓普
【译诗】
《一个寒冷的春天》
（美）伊丽莎白 毕晓普
献与简 杜威 ，马里兰
“没有什么像春天那样美丽” ——— 霍普金斯
一个寒冷的春天：
草地上的紫罗兰有了裂纹。
有两星期或更久，树木都在迟疑；
小小叶片等待着时机，
细心地显明它们的特性。
终于一阵黯绿的烟尘
落上你硕大、无目的的山丘。
一天，在一曝泛冷而白炽的日光下，
山丘的一侧，一头牛犊降生。
母牛停止哞叫
花费长时间嚼断胎盘，
一挂不幸的旗帜，
但小牛，很快地趔趄起身
看样子，像越发感觉欢快。
第二天
暖和了许多。
白绿相间的山茱萸渗入树林，
每瓣花朵灼伤，很显然，是烟蒂所为；
而朦胧一片的紫荆
站在旁边，一动不动，却差不多更
为生姿，相比所有看到的颜色。
四只小鹿练习跃过你的篱笆。
幼嫩的橡叶旋出冷静的橡树。
灵雀正已为夏天储满欢歌，
枫树上帮腔的红衣雀
嘶一响鸣鞭，沉睡者被唤醒，
从南方伸展几哩绿色的肢条。
帽中的丁香悄然变白，
然后有一天，她们飘落如雪。
此刻，夜幕里，
一弯新月出现。
山丘更为柔和。一簇簇长草
铺现疲牛躺卧的地方。
牛蛙们也正鸣响，
松弛的弦为沉重拇的指拨动。
你白色前门下，透出的光中
最小的飞蛾，像一把把中国扇子，
展扁自身，银色的，镀金银粒
散缀在浅黄，橙色，或灰色上。
现在，从厚密的草丛，闪亮流萤
开始升浮：
向上，然后向下，再向上：
照耀着自己攀升的航程
一齐漂浮到同样的水平，
— 恰似像那香槟里的泡沫。
— 后来他们飞得越发高了。
而你荫翳的草场将能献予
这些独特而炽烈的馈赠
从现在起的每个夜晚，直至夏天过去。
2013 试译第一节 2014.9.29 译毕
这首之前尝试译过第一节（部分），后来就没再继续。感谢豆友尚友古人新的诠释，他有很好的想法，也给我一些很好的思路。 毕竟学浅，很多地方需承认很吃力，如“where each cow-flop lies” “motionless, but almost more like movement than any placeable color”诸句还是很抓狂的。期待与朋友们的交流，探讨。
【原诗】
A Cold Spring （1955）
Elizabeth Bishop
For Jane Dewey， Marryland
Nothing is so beautiful as spring---Hopkins
A cold spring：
the violate was flawed on the lawn.
For two weeks or more the trees hesitated;
the little leaves waited,
carefully indicating their characteristics.
Finally a grave green dust
Settled over your big and aimless hills.
One day, in a chill white blast of snsine,
on the side of one a calf was born.
The mother stopped lowing
and took a long time eating the after-birth,
a wretched flag,
but the calf got up promptly
and seemed inclined to feel gay.
The next day
Was much warmer.
Greenish-white dogwood infiltrated the wood,
each petal burned, apparently, by a cigarette-butt;
and the blurred redbud stood
beside it, motionless, but almost more
like movement than any placeable color.
Four deer practised leaping over your fences.
The infant oak-leaves swung through the sober oak.
Song-sparrows were wound up for the summer,
and in the maple the complementary cardial
cracked a whip, and the sleeper awoke,
stretching miles of green limbs from the south.
In his cap the lilacs whitened,
then one day they fell like snow.
Now, in the evening,
a new moon comes.
The hills grow softer. Tufts of long grass show
where each cow-flop lies.
The bull-frogs are sounding,
slack strings plucked by heavy thumbs.
Beneath the light, against your white front door,
the smallest moths, like Chinese fans,
flatten themselves, silver and silver-gilt
over pale yellow, orange or gray.
Now, from the thick grass, the fireflies
begin to rise:
up, then down, then up again:
lit on the ascending flight,
drifting simultaneously to the same height,
----exactly like the bubbles in champagne.
----Later on they rise much higher.
And your shadowy pastures will be able to offer
these particular glowing tributes
every evening now throughout the summer.
《一个寒冷的春天》
（美）伊丽莎白 毕晓普
献与简 杜威 ，马里兰
“没有什么像春天那样美丽” ——— 霍普金斯
一个寒冷的春天：
草地上的紫罗兰有了裂纹。
有两星期或更久，树木都在迟疑；
小小叶片等待着时机，
细心地显明它们的特性。
终于一阵黯绿的烟尘
落上你硕大、无目的的山丘。
一天，在一曝泛冷而白炽的日光下，
山丘的一侧，一头牛犊降生。
母牛停止哞叫
花费长时间嚼断胎盘，
一挂不幸的旗帜，
但小牛，很快地趔趄起身
看样子，像越发感觉欢快。
第二天
暖和了许多。
白绿相间的山茱萸渗入树林，
每瓣花朵灼伤，很显然，是烟蒂所为；
而朦胧一片的紫荆
站在旁边，一动不动，却差不多更
为生姿，相比所有看到的颜色。
四只小鹿练习跃过你的篱笆。
幼嫩的橡叶旋出冷静的橡树。
灵雀正已为夏天储满欢歌，
枫树上帮腔的红衣雀
嘶一响鸣鞭，沉睡者被唤醒，
从南方伸展几哩绿色的肢条。
帽中的丁香悄然变白，
然后有一天，她们飘落如雪。
此刻，夜幕里，
一弯新月出现。
山丘更为柔和。一簇簇长草
铺现疲牛躺卧的地方。
牛蛙们也正鸣响，
松弛的弦为沉重拇的指拨动。
你白色前门下，透出的光中
最小的飞蛾，像一把把中国扇子，
展扁自身，银色的，镀金银粒
散缀在浅黄，橙色，或灰色上。
现在，从厚密的草丛，闪亮流萤
开始升浮：
向上，然后向下，再向上：
照耀着自己攀升的航程
一齐漂浮到同样的水平，
— 恰似像那香槟里的泡沫。
— 后来他们飞得越发高了。
而你荫翳的草场将能献予
这些独特而炽烈的馈赠
从现在起的每个夜晚，直至夏天过去。
2013 试译第一节 2014.9.29 译毕
这首之前尝试译过第一节（部分），后来就没再继续。感谢豆友尚友古人新的诠释，他有很好的想法，也给我一些很好的思路。 毕竟学浅，很多地方需承认很吃力，如“where each cow-flop lies” “motionless, but almost more like movement than any placeable color”诸句还是很抓狂的。期待与朋友们的交流，探讨。
【原诗】
A Cold Spring （1955）
Elizabeth Bishop
For Jane Dewey， Marryland
Nothing is so beautiful as spring---Hopkins
A cold spring：
the violate was flawed on the lawn.
For two weeks or more the trees hesitated;
the little leaves waited,
carefully indicating their characteristics.
Finally a grave green dust
Settled over your big and aimless hills.
One day, in a chill white blast of snsine,
on the side of one a calf was born.
The mother stopped lowing
and took a long time eating the after-birth,
a wretched flag,
but the calf got up promptly
and seemed inclined to feel gay.
The next day
Was much warmer.
Greenish-white dogwood infiltrated the wood,
each petal burned, apparently, by a cigarette-butt;
and the blurred redbud stood
beside it, motionless, but almost more
like movement than any placeable color.
Four deer practised leaping over your fences.
The infant oak-leaves swung through the sober oak.
Song-sparrows were wound up for the summer,
and in the maple the complementary cardial
cracked a whip, and the sleeper awoke,
stretching miles of green limbs from the south.
In his cap the lilacs whitened,
then one day they fell like snow.
Now, in the evening,
a new moon comes.
The hills grow softer. Tufts of long grass show
where each cow-flop lies.
The bull-frogs are sounding,
slack strings plucked by heavy thumbs.
Beneath the light, against your white front door,
the smallest moths, like Chinese fans,
flatten themselves, silver and silver-gilt
over pale yellow, orange or gray.
Now, from the thick grass, the fireflies
begin to rise:
up, then down, then up again:
lit on the ascending flight,
drifting simultaneously to the same height,
----exactly like the bubbles in champagne.
----Later on they rise much higher.
And your shadowy pastures will be able to offer
these particular glowing tributes
every evening now throughout the summer.
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