Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard - Thomas Gray
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
晚钟为告别的白昼敲起了丧钟，
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
咩咩羊群在草地上慢慢盘桓,
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
农夫疲惫地蹒跚在回家途中，
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
把整个世界留给我与黑暗。
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
此刻的大地闪着微光慢慢消退，
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
四周弥漫着一片寂静和庄严，
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
只听见甲壳虫在空中嗡嗡乱飞，
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;
沉沉铃声为远处的羊圈催眠。
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower,
只听见那边披着常春藤的塔楼上,
The moping owl does to the moon complain,
有只忧郁的猫头鹰对月抱怨，
Of such, as wandering near her secret bower,
怨有人在她秘密的深闺附近游逛，
Molest her ancient solitary reign. 打扰了她古老而幽静的庭院。
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, 老
苍的榆树下，紫杉的荫影里，
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
许多荒冢在烂草堆中隆起，
Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
一个个在小窖里永远躺下躯体，
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
村里的粗鄙先辈在此安息。
The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,
芬芳四溢的晨风轻轻的呼唤，
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
茅草棚上燕子的细语呢喃，
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
回荡的号角，或公鸡的高声鸣啼
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
再也不能把他们从床上唤起。
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
熊熊炉火再也不会为他们燃烧，
Or busy housewife ply her evening care;
主妇夜里也不会再为他们操劳，
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
孩子不再喊着跑去迎接爸爸回家，
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
不再趴到膝上去抢着亲吻撒娇。
Often did the harvest to their sickle yield,
昔日，他们用镰刀去夺取丰收，
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;
板结的土块被犁成一条条垄沟；
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
赶着牲口下地，他们何等欢欣！
How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
有力的砍伐使一根根树木低头！
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
别让“雄心”嘲笑他们有用的辛劳，
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
家常的欢乐和默默无闻的命运;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile,
也别让“华贵”带着蔑视的冷笑
The short and simple annals of the poor.
来倾听穷人简朴短暂的生平。
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
炫耀的门第，显赫的权势，
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
美和财富赋予的一切事物,
Awaits alike the inevitable hour.
都同样等待着不可避免之时:
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
光辉的道路终将导致坟墓。
Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault,
If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise,
Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Can storied urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?
Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page
Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury repressed their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.
The applause of listening senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes,
Their lot forbade: nor circumscribed alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,
The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride
With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learned to stray;
Along the cool sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Yet even these bones from insult to protect
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply:
And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.
For who to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?
On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires;
Ev'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires.
For thee, who mindful of the unhonoured dead
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;
If chance, by lonely Contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,
Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,
Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
There at the foot of yonder nodding beech
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,
His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove,
Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.
One morn I missed him on the customed hill,
Along the heath and near his favourite tree;
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;
The next with dirges due in sad array
Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne.
Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay,
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'
The Epitaph
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,
He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
(There they alike in trembling hope repose)
The bosom of his Father and his God.
