LESSON 123

ABRAHAM DAVENPORT

亚伯拉罕·达文波特

’T was on a May day of the far old year

Seventeen hundred eighty, that there fell

Over the bloom and sweet life of the Spring,

Over the fresh earth and the heaven of noon,

A horror of great darkness, like the night

In day of which the Norland sagas tell—

The Twilight of the Gods.

The low-hung sky

Was black with ominous clouds, save where its rim

Was fringed with a dull glow, like that which climbs

The crater’s sides from the red hell below.

Birds ceased to sing, and all the barnyard fowls

Roosted; the cattle at the pasture bars

Lowed, and looked homeward; bats on leathern wings

Flitted abroad; the sounds of labor died;

Men prayed, and women wept; all ears grew sharp

To hear the doom blast of the trumpet shatter

The black sky, that the dreadful face of Christ

Might look from the rent clouds, not as he looked

A loving guest at Bethany, but stern

As Justice and inexorable Law.

Meanwhile in the old Statehouse, dim as ghosts,

Sat the lawgivers of Connecticut,

Trembling beneath their legislative robes.

“It is the Lord’s Great Day! Let us adjourn,”

Some said; and then, as if with one accord,

All eyes were turned to Abraham Davenport.

He rose, slow-cleaving with his steady voice

The intolerable hush. “This well may be

The Day of Judgment which the world awaits;

But be it so or not, I only know

My present duty, and my Lord’s command

To occupy till he come. So at the post

Where he hath set me in his providence,

I choose, for one, to meet him face to face,—

No faithless servant frightened from my task,

But ready when the Lord of the harvest calls;

And therefore, with all reverence, I would say,

Let God do his work, we will see to ours.

Bring in the candles.” And they brought them in.

Then by the flaring lights the Speaker read,

Albeit with husky voice and shaking hands,

An act to amend an act to regulate

The shad and alewive fisheries. Whereupon,

Wisely and well spake Abraham Davenport,

Straight to the question, with no figures of speech

Save the ten Arab signs, yet not without

The shrewd, dry humor natural to the man:

His awe-struck colleagues listening all the while,

Between the pauses of his argument,

To hear the thunder of the wrath of God

Break from the hollow trumpet of the cloud.

And there he stands in memory to this day,

Erect, self-poised, a rugged face, half seen

Against the background of unnatural dark,

A witness to the ages as they pass,

That simple duty hath no place for fear.

(Whittier)

【中文阅读】

这是很久以前的一个五月天

1780年，正值春暖花开的芳香季节，

大地新绿，天方正午，

突然笼罩着令人恐惧的漆黑，

就像北欧传说中讲的子夜时分，

诸神的黄昏。

低矮的天空

不祥的乌云密布，除了它的边缘

绕着一层晦暗的光亮，就像从下界火红的炼狱

爬到火山口上的火花。

鸟儿停止鸣啾，仓院里所有家禽

都在歇息；牧场栅栏围着的牛

低着头，望着牛栏的方向；皮革翅膀上的蝙蝠

向外飞去；劳作的声音已经绝迹；

男人祈祷，女人抽泣；所有人都在谛听

划过夜空那尖利的喇叭声，基督那张可怕的脸庞

从裂开的云层望去，他看到的不是

贝瑟尼一位可爱的客人，

而是严肃的法官和无情的法律。

与此同时在过去的州议会的议场，暗如魔窟，

坐着的是康涅狄格立法者，

在法袍下瑟瑟发抖。

“这是上帝的世界末日！休庭！”有人说；

然后，仿佛全体一致，

所有目光都转向亚伯拉罕•达文波特。

他站起身，他那坚毅的声音

慢慢划开不堪忍受的寂静。“这也许就是

世界期待已久的末日审判；

但是不管是不是，我只晓得

我现在的责任，我的上司命令我主持

直到他来。因此他先前坐的位子

由我来坐，正合天意。

出于一个原因，我选择与他面对面，

没有背信弃义的仆人害怕我分配给他任务，

但是要随时准备响应丰收之神的召唤；

因此，怀着万分的崇敬，我会说，

让神做他的事情，我们自己照料自己。

带着蜡烛。”他们自己收获庄稼。

借着摇曳的烛光，说话者读起来，

尽管声音沙哑，双手颤个不停，

一个动作用来修补，一个动作用来调整

西鲱和艾勒崴夫渔场。然后，

聪明又得体的亚伯拉罕•达文波特

直接提出问题，用并非形象化的语言

除了十个阿拉伯符号，他的语言里没有

机灵、干巴巴的幽默：

他那惊呆了的同僚全都洗耳恭听，

在他的高论暂停中间，

听到的是上帝的雷霆之怒

就像从中空的大鼓爆破而出。

记得这天他站在那里，

腰身挺直，镇定自若，棱角分明的脸上映出

不自然的黑色暗影，

这是对走过的岁月的见证，

朴素的责任感没有给恐惧留出位置。