LESSON 119

BATTLE OF WATERLOO

滑铁卢之战

There was a sound of revelry by night,

And Belgium’s capital had gathered then

Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright

The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men.

A thousand hearts beat happily; and when

Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,

And all went merry as a marriage bell;

But hush! hark!—a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!

Did ye not hear it?—No; ’t was but the wind,

Or the car rattling o’er the stony street;

On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;

No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet

To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet—

But, hark!—that heavy sound breaks in once more,

As if the clouds its echo would repeat,

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!

Arm! arm! it is—it is the cannon’s opening roar!

Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,

And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,

And cheeks all pale, which, but an hour ago

Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness;

And there were sudden partings, such as press

The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs

Which ne’er might be repeated: who could guess

If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,

Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise.

And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed,

The mustering squadron, and the clattering car

Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,

And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;

And the deep thunder, peal on peal afar;

And near, the beat of the alarming drum

Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;

While thronged the citizens with terror dumb,

Or whispering with white lips—“The foe! They come! They come!”

And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,

Dewy with nature’s tear-drops, as they pass,

Grieving, if aught inanimate e’er grieves,

Over the unreturning brave!—alas!

Ere evening to be trodden like the grass,

Which, now, beneath them, but above, shall grow,

In its next verdure, when this fiery mass

Of living valor, rolling on the foe,

And burning with high hope, shall molder, cold and low

Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,

Last eve in beauty’s circle proudly gay,

The midnight brought the signal sound of strife,

The morn, the marshaling in arms,—the day,

Battle’s magnificently stern array!

The thunderclouds close o’er it, which when rent,

The earth is covered thick with other clay,

Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,

Rider and horse,—friend, foe,—in one red burial blent.

(Byron)

【中文阅读】

夜深纵饮欢歌，笙箫笛声阵阵，

四面八方的美女豪侠

齐聚比利时京城，

灯火把美女英雄照得那般威风，

千颗心快乐地跳着，当

醉人的音乐波涛般涌起，

温柔的眼睛对视着，情意无垠

大家欢情纵舞，就像结婚的钟声；

可是，听！听啊！低沉的声音仿佛隆隆丧钟！

你们听见了吗？——没有；不过是风声，

抑或车轮碾过青石街上发出的声音；

还是跳舞吧！大家其乐无穷，

当青春喜悦相逢，一觉到天明，

飞步急赶那良辰美景——

可是，你们听！——那沉沉的声音不消停，

乌云且把它的回声重复个不停

近了，更近了，越来越骇人，比先前尤甚，

拿起枪！拿起枪！——这是大炮的吼声！

啊！立即掀起一片纷乱，

一起飙泪，痛苦地颤抖，

都双颊惨白，可就在一小时以前

听到赞美都脸上泛起可爱的晕红

生离死别难堪睹目，这样的逼迫

年轻人哪能承受，呜咽悲戚难自抑，

再聚首恐在梦中；谁又能猜透

唯愿目光中还有彼此的影子停留，

既然夜晚如此温馨，清晨何以这般叫人难受。

到处匆匆忙攀上马鞍：战马，

集合起来的马队中，车子咔哒声中，

迅疾涌向前方的滩头，

顷刻间列出作战的队形，

远处低沉的雷鸣阵阵，

近处报警的鼓声隆隆，

启明星未明，士兵都起身相迎，

这时老百姓挤在一起，吓得呆若木鸡，

有的颤动嘴唇低语——“敌人！他们来了，他们来了!”

在他们上方，阿登高地上绿阴婆娑，

他们经过时露珠和着大自然的眼泪滴落，

太长息，若是都能永远悲伤不再，

勇士不再归来！空悲切！

就在夜晚像草一样被践踏之前，

此刻，在他们脚下，将长出新草，

下一次草木繁盛之际，当这支勇猛的队伍

走在上面，滚滚向前杀向敌寇，

燃起的莫大希望，将冷却腐朽。

昨天正午，但见他们兵强马壮神飞扬，

昨日黄昏围成美丽的圆圈把歌欢唱，

午夜传来一声打仗的信号，

清晨，列队集结，全副武装——那天

战场上阵势雄壮！

当出击时，乌云漫卷敛锋芒，

地上覆盖了远方的泥土

高地上原来的泥土终将覆盖，堆成小山，

驭手和马儿——朋友，敌人——血液交混埋在一起。

（拜伦）