I would I were a careless child
By George Gordon Byron (Lord Byron)
I would I were a careless child,
Still dwelling in my Highland cave,
Or roaming through the dusky wild,
Or bounding o'er the dark blue wave;
The cumbrous pomp of Saxon [1] pride,
Accords not with the freeborn soul,
Which loves the mountain's craggy side,
And seeks the rocks where billows roll.
Still dwelling in my Highland cave,
Or roaming through the dusky wild,
Or bounding o'er the dark blue wave;
The cumbrous pomp of Saxon [1] pride,
Accords not with the freeborn soul,
Which loves the mountain's craggy side,
And seeks the rocks where billows roll.
Fortune! take back these cultur'd lands,
Take back this name of splendid sound!
I hate the touch of servile hands,
I hate the slaves that cringe around:
Place me among the rocks I love,
Which sound to Ocean's wildest roar;
I ask but this--again to rove
Through scenes my youth hath known before.
Take back this name of splendid sound!
I hate the touch of servile hands,
I hate the slaves that cringe around:
Place me among the rocks I love,
Which sound to Ocean's wildest roar;
I ask but this--again to rove
Through scenes my youth hath known before.
Few are my years, and yet I feel
The World was ne'er design'd for me:
Ah! why do dark'ning shades conceal
The hour when man must cease to be?
Once I beheld a splendid dream,
A visionary scene of bliss:
Truth!--wherefore did thy hated beam
Awake me to a world like this?
The World was ne'er design'd for me:
Ah! why do dark'ning shades conceal
The hour when man must cease to be?
Once I beheld a splendid dream,
A visionary scene of bliss:
Truth!--wherefore did thy hated beam
Awake me to a world like this?
I lov'd--but those I lov'd are gone;
Had friends--my early friends are fled:
How cheerless feels the heart alone,
When all its former hopes are dead!
Though gay companions, o'er the bowl
Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
Though Pleasure stirs the maddening soul,
The heart--the heart--is lonely still.
Had friends--my early friends are fled:
How cheerless feels the heart alone,
When all its former hopes are dead!
Though gay companions, o'er the bowl
Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
Though Pleasure stirs the maddening soul,
The heart--the heart--is lonely still.
How dull! to hear the voice of those
Whom Rank or Chance, whom Wealth or Power,
Have made, though neither friends nor foes,
Associates of the festive hour.
Give me again a faithful few,
In years and feelings still the same,
And I will fly the midnight crew,
Where boist'rous Joy is but a name.
Whom Rank or Chance, whom Wealth or Power,
Have made, though neither friends nor foes,
Associates of the festive hour.
Give me again a faithful few,
In years and feelings still the same,
And I will fly the midnight crew,
Where boist'rous Joy is but a name.
And Woman, lovely Woman! thou,
My hope, my comforter, my all!
How cold must be my bosom now,
When e'en thy smiles begin to pall!
Without a sigh would I resign,
This busy scene of splendid Woe,
To make that calm contentment mine,
Which Virtue knows, or seems to know.
My hope, my comforter, my all!
How cold must be my bosom now,
When e'en thy smiles begin to pall!
Without a sigh would I resign,
This busy scene of splendid Woe,
To make that calm contentment mine,
Which Virtue knows, or seems to know.
Fain would I fly the haunts of men [2]
I seek to shun, not hate mankind;
My breast requires the sullen glen,
Whose gloom may suit a darken'd mind.
Oh! that to me the wings were given,
Which bear the turtle to her nest!
Then would I cleave the vault of Heaven,
To flee away, and be at rest.
I seek to shun, not hate mankind;
My breast requires the sullen glen,
Whose gloom may suit a darken'd mind.
Oh! that to me the wings were given,
Which bear the turtle to her nest!
Then would I cleave the vault of Heaven,
To flee away, and be at rest.
[Footnote 1: Sassenach, or Saxon, a Gaelic word, signifying either Lowland or English.]
[Footnote 2: Shyness was a family characteristic of the Byrons. The poet continued in later years to have a horror of being observed by unaccustomed eyes, and in the country would, if possible, avoid meeting strangers on the road.]
《我願做無憂無慮的小孩》
[英] 喬治·戈登·拜倫（1788-1824）著
楊德豫.譯
我願做無憂無慮的小孩，
仍然居住在高原的洞穴：
或是在微曛的曠野裏徘徊，
或是在暗藍的海波上騰躍。
撒克遜浮華的繁文縟節，
不合我生來自由的意志。
我眷念坡道崎嶇的山地，
我嚮往狂濤撲打的巨石。
仍然居住在高原的洞穴：
或是在微曛的曠野裏徘徊，
或是在暗藍的海波上騰躍。
撒克遜浮華的繁文縟節，
不合我生來自由的意志。
我眷念坡道崎嶇的山地，
我嚮往狂濤撲打的巨石。
命運呵，請收回豐熟的田疇，
收回這響亮的尊榮稱號！
收回這響亮的尊榮稱號！
我厭惡被人卑屈地迎候，
厭惡被奴僕躬身環繞!
把我放回我酷愛的山嶽，
聽巉岩應和咆哮的海洋；
我只求讓我重新領略
厭惡被奴僕躬身環繞!
把我放回我酷愛的山嶽，
聽巉岩應和咆哮的海洋；
我只求讓我重新領略
我從小熟悉的故國風光。
我雖然年少，也能覺察出，
這世界決不是為我而設；
幽冥的暗影為何要冪覆，
世人向塵寰告別的時刻？
我也曾瞥見輝煌的夢境----
極樂之鄉的神奇的幻覺；
真理！為何你可憎的光明，
喚醒我面臨這麼個世界？
真理！為何你可憎的光明，
喚醒我面臨這麼個世界？
我愛過----所愛的人們已離去，
有朋友----早年的友誼已終；
孤苦的心靈怎能不憂鬱，
當原有的希望黯然熄滅!
縱然宴會上歡謔的夥伴們，
把惡劣的情懷驅散了瞬息；
豪興能振奮癡狂的靈魂，
心兒啊，心兒卻永遠孤寂!
多無聊，去聽那些人談論：
那些人與我非敵非友，
是門第、權勢、財富或機運
使他們與我在筳前聚首。
把幾個忠誠的密友還給我！
還是原來的年紀和心情！
躲開那半夜的喧囂的一夥，
他們的歡樂不過是虛名。
美人，可愛的美人!你就是
我的希望、慰籍，和一切！
連你那笑靨的魅力也消失，
我心中怎能不奇寒凜列！
又富麗又慘苦的繁囂俗境，
我毫不歎惋，願從此告別，；
我只要怡然知足的恬靜——
“美德”熟識它，或似曾相識。
告別這熙來攘往的去處——
我不恨人類，只想想避開；
我癡心尋覓陰沉的峽谷，
那瞑色契合我晦暗的胸懷。
但願能給我一雙翅膀：
像斑鳩飛回它棲息的巢裏，
我也要展翅飛越穹蒼，
飄然遠引，得享安息。
