标题: The Poetry of Pablo Neruda - 书评 [打印本页] 作者: 门下书客 时间: 2013-5-5 17:02 标题: The Poetry of Pablo Neruda - 书评 The most comprehensive English-language collection of work ever by "the greatest poet of the twentieth century--in any language" (Gabriel Garcia Marquez) "In his work a continent awakens to consci ...
书评内容会自动聚合在本帖中作者: 浪子 时间: 2013-8-30 23:42
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
Translation by W. S. Merwin作者: 圈圈马 时间: 2013-8-31 00:21
主题依旧是爱情，爱情永恒。
印象最深的是一首诗：tonight i can write.
the night is shatterd, and you are not with me.
整篇充满了一种忧郁的深沉，伤而不悲。
tonight i can write the saddest lines. 作者能写悲伤的诗句，仿佛就是在说，他不愿去写这些哀词怨曲；回忆中，依稀辨别出她深邃的眼神，洁白的身体，回忆着过去的甜蜜；可是，诗人抛开了过去，another's, she'll be another's, like my kisses before. 诗人爱她吗，不爱吗。
i no longer love her, but how i loved her. 爱情已经离去，你我都找不到那种触电的感觉了。握在手中的，只有过去的点点滴滴。月色泛白，漂白了树丛。
沉郁的调子，持续着，诗人说：this the last verse i write for her. 抛开过去，迎接未来。这是诗人的乐观，但是何尝不是伤感呢。曾经的爱情是如此震慑人心，现在从指尖溜走的，不仅仅是时间，还有那爱情，抓也抓不住。抛开的过去是无奈，无奈心已走不到一起，无奈只能放手，各奔东西。
为何爱情会如流水一般消失呢。
月色下，爱情依旧。