聂鲁达英文版《二十首情诗与绝望的歌》.doc

聂鲁达《二十首情诗与绝望的歌》

Here I Love You
Here I love you
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself
The moon glows like phosphorus on the vagrant waters
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other

The snow unfurls in dancing figures
A silver gull slips down from the west
Sometimes a sail ,high,high stars

Oh the black cross of a ship
Alone
Sometimes I get up early an even my soul is wet
Far away the sea sounds an resounds
This is a port
Here I love you .

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain
I love you still among these cold things
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
That cross the sea towards no arrival
I see myself forgotten like those old anchorsmes

Thinking, thangling shadows

Thinking,tangling shadows in the deep solitude
You are far away too,oh farther than anyone
Thinking,freeing birds,dissolving images
Burying lamps

Belfry of fogs,how far away,up there!
Stifling laments, milling shadowy hopes,
Taciturn miller.
Night falls on you face downward, far from the city.

Your presence is foreign, as strange to me as a thing
I think, I explore great tracts of my life bfore you
My life before anyone, my harsh life
The shout facing the sea, among the rocks.
Running free,mad,in the sea-spray
The sad rage, the shout, the solitude of the sea
Headlong,violent, stretched towads the sky

You,woman, what were you there, what ray,what vane
Of that immense fan?you were as far as you are now
Fire in the forest! Buren in blue crosses
Burn, burn, flamp up, sparkle in trees of light

In my sky at twilight
This poem is a paraphrase of the 30th poem in rabindranath tagore’s the gardener

In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
And your form and colour are the way I love them
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
And in your life my infinite dreams live

The lamp of my soul dyes your feet
My sour wine is sweeter on your lips
Oh reaper of my evening song
How solitary dreams believe you to be mine!

You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon’s
Wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice
Huntress of the depths of my eyes, your plunder
Stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water

You are taken in the net of my music, my love
And my nets of music are wide as the sky
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.

I like for you to be still

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent
And you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth

As all things are filled with my soul
You emerge from the things, filled with my soul
You are like my soul. A butterfly of dream
And you are like the word melancholy

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly
Cooing like a dove
And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you :
Let me e to be still in your silence

And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright sa a lamep, simple as a ring
You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent
Distant and full of sorrow as though you had died
One wore then, one smile, is enough
And I am happy, happy that it’s not true

Every day you play

Evey day you play with the light of the universe

Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and water
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
As a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands

You are like nobody since I love you
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among
The stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed

Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window
The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them
The rain takes off her clothes

The birds go by, fleeing
The wind. The wind.
I can contend omly against the power of men
The storm whirls dark leaves
And turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky

You are here. Oh, you do not run away
You will answer me to the last cry
Cling to me as though you were frightened
Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran trough your eyes

Now, now too, little one. You bring me honeysuckle
And even your breasts smell of it

While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me
My savage, solitary soul ,my name that sends them all running
So many times we have seen the morng star burn , kissing our eyes
And over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans

My words rained over you ,stroking you
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body
I go so far as to think that you own the universe
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains ,bluebells
Dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want
To do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

I have gone marking

I have gone marking the atlas of your body with crosses of fire
My mouth went across: a spider, trying to hide
In you ,behind you, timid, driven by thirst

Stories to tell yu on the shore of evening
Sad and gentle doll, so that you should not be sad
A swan, a tree, some thing far away and happy
The season of grapes, the ripe and fruitful season

I who lived in a harbour from which I loved you
The solitude crossed with deam and with silence
Penned up between the sea and sadness
Soundless, delirious, betuuen tuo motionless gondoliers

Between the lips and the voice something goes dying
Something with the wings of a bird, something of anguish and oblivion
The way nets cannot hold water
My toy doll, only a few drops are left trembling
Even so, something sings in these fugitive words
Something sings ,something climbs to my ravenous mouth
Oh to be able to celebrate you with all the words of joy

Sing, burn, flee, like a belfry at the hands of a madman
My sad tenderness, what es over you all at once?
When I have resched the most awesome and the coldest summit
My heart closes like a nocturnal flower

You breast is enogh

You breast is enogh for my heart
And my wings for your freedom
What was sleeping above your soul will rise
Out of my mouth to heaven

In you is the illusion of each day
You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers
You undermine the horizon with your absence
Eternally in flight like the wave

I have said tha you sang in the wind
Like the pines and like the masts
Like them you are tall and taciturn
And you are sad, all at once, like a voyage

You gather things to you like an old road
You are peopled with echoes and nostalgic voices
I awoke and at times birds fled and migrated
That had been sleeping in your soul

Almost out of the sky, half of the moon
Anchors between two mountains
Turning, wandering night, the digger of eyes
Let’s see how many stars are smashed in the pool

It makes a cross of mouring between my eyes, and runs away
Forge of blue metals, nights of stilled bats
M heart revolves like a crazy wheet
Girl who have e from so far, been brought from so far
Sometimes your glance flashes ot under the sky
Yu cross above my heart eithout stopping
Wind from the tombs carries of , wrecks, scatters your sleey root
The big trees on the other side of her, uprooted
But you cloudless girl, question of smoke, corn tassel
You were what the wind was making with illuminated leaves
Behind the nocturnal mountains, white lily of conflagration
Ah, I can say nothing! You were mmade of everything
Longing that sliced my breast into pieces
It is time to take another road, on which she does not smile
Storm that buride the bells, muddy swir of torments
Why touch her now, why make her sad
Oh to follow the roda that leads away from everything
Without anguish, death, winter waiting along it
With their eyes open through the dew
We have lost even
We have lost even this twilight
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
While the blue night dropped on the world

I have seen from my window
The fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops

Sometimes a piece of sun
Burned like a coin between my hands

I remembered you with my soul clenched
In that sadness of mine that you know

Where were you then?
Wo else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love e on me suddenly
When I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that is always turned to at twilight
And my cape rolled like a hurt dog at my feet

Always, always you recede through the ecenings
Towards where the twilight goes erasing statues
Druk with pines
Drunk with pines and long kisses
Like summer I steer the fast sail of the roses
Bent towards the death of the thin day
Stuck into my solid marine madness

Pale and lashed to my ravenous water
I cruise in the sour smell of the naked climate
Still dressed in grey and bitter sounds
And a sad crest of abandoned spray

Hardened by passions, I go mounted on my one wave
Lunar, solar, burning and cold, all at once
Becalmed in the throat of the fortunate isles
That are white and sweet as cool hips

In the moist night my garment of kisses trembles
Charged to insanity with electric currents
Heroically divided into dreams
And intoxicating roses practicing on me

Upstream, in the midst of the outer waves
Your parallel body yelds to my arms
Like a fishi infinitely fastened to my soul
Quick an slow, in the energy under the sky
White bee
White bee, you buzz in my soul, drunk with honey
And your flight winds in slow spirals of smoke

I am the one without hope, the word without echoes
He who lost everything and he who had everything

Last hawser, in you creaks my last longing
In my barren land you are the final rose

Ah you who are silent!

Let your deep eyes close. There the night flutters
Ah your body, a frightened statue, naked

You have deep eyes in which the night flails
Cool arms of flowers and a lap of rose

Your breasts seem like white snails
A butterfly of shadow has e to sleep on your belly

Ah you who are silent!

Here is the solitude from which you are absent
It is raining. The sea wind is hunting stray gulls

The water walks barefoot in the wet streets
From that tree the leaves plain as though they were sick
White bee, even when you are gone you buzz in my soul
You live again in time, slender and silent  
Ah you who are silent!
Leaning. Into. The .afternoons
Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets
Towards your oceanic eyes
There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames
Its arms turning like a drowning man’s
I send out red signals across your absent eyes
That move like the sea near a lighthouse
You keep only darkness, my distant female
From your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges
Lesning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets
To that sea that beats on your marine eyes

The birds of night peck at the first stars
That flash like my soul when I love you
The night gallops on its shadowy mare
Shedding blue tassels over the land
I remember you as you were
I remember you as you were in the last autumn
You were the grey beret and the still heart
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul

Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
The leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul

I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers

Sky frm a ship .field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, fo smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul
So that you will hear me
So that you will hear me my words
Sometimes grow thin
As the tracks of the gulls on the beaches

Necklace, drunken bell
For your hands smooth as grapes

And I watch my words from a long way off
They are more yours than mine
They climb on my old suffering like ivy

It climbs the same way on damp walls
You are to blame for this cruel sport
They are fleeing from my dark lair
You fill everything, you fill everything

Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy
And they are more used to my sadness than you are

Now I want them to say what I want to say to you
To make you hear as I want you to hear me

The wind of anguish still hauls on them as usual
Sometimes hurricanes of dreams still knock them over
You listen to other voices in my painful voice

Lament of old mouths, blood of old supplications
Love me, panion. Don’t forsake me. Follow me
Follow me. panion, on this wave of anguish

But my words bee stained with your love
You occupy everything, you occupy everything

I am making them into an endless necklace
For your white hands, smooth as grapes

The morning is full
The morning is full of storm
In the heart of summer

The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye
The wind, traveling, waving them in its hands

The numberless heart of the wind
Beating above our loving silence

Orchestral and divine, resounding among the trees
Like a language full of wars and songs

Wind that bears off the dead leaves with a quick raid
And deflects the pulsing arrows of the birds

Wind that topples her in a wave without spray
And substance without weight, and leaning fires

Her mass of kisses breaks and sinks
Assailed in the door of the summer’s wind
Ah vastness of pines
Ah vastness of pines, murmur of waves breaking
Slow play of lights, solitary bell
Twilight falling in your eyes, toy doll
Earth-shell, in whom the earth sings

In you the rivers sing and my soul flees in them
As you desire, and you send it where you will
Aim my road on your bow of hope
And in a frenzy I will free my flock of arrows

On all sides I see your waist of fog
And your silence hunts down my afflicted hours
My kisses anchor, and my moist desire nests
In you with your arms of tansparent stone

Ah your mysterious voice that love tolls and darkens
In the resonant and dying evening!
Thus in deep hours I have seen, over the fields
The ears of wheat tolling in the mouth of the wind
The light wraps you
The light wraps you in its mortal flame
Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way
Against the old