The Road Not Taken (翻译)
The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood
and I—I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference
没有走过的路
森林叶黄，林中岔道各奔一方
我一人独行，无限惆怅
不能把两条路同时造访
良久伫立，我朝第一条路眺望
路转处惟见林深草长
我再把另一条路探望
一样美丽，一样坦荡
但或许更令人向往
虽然两条路都曾有行人过往
但这条路芳草萋萋，更少人踏荒
那天早晨落叶满道上
落叶上尚无脚踩的痕伤
阿，且将第一条路留待他日寻访
明知道路穷处又是路
重游此地怕是痴想
那以后岁月流逝，日久天长
有一天长叹一声我要诉讲
林中两条岔道彷徨
我选择了行人更少的一条路
在相望于江湖看到了关于这首诗歌的讨论，这个是网上的翻译版本，本来就很喜欢罗伯特.弗罗斯特的那种清新自然的田园风格，虽然有着淡淡的寂寞和忧郁，但那似乎也是一种美好而积极的憧憬和期望。
那天看到作者 kmleon说：因为选择的问题，诞生了现代经济学的含义。多思考一下，生活的得失似乎就是不可避免的，得失的心态也因此不可避免。《春逝》里老太太一句“女人和公共汽车，一旦离去就追不上了。”也很经典，所以也只能再继续怒把力奔往前路了。
以前也尝试着翻过他的诗歌,以下是自己的这首诗的理解和修改后的翻译
注: wanted wear: was not frequently traveled
Had worn: Would have worn
kept: reserved
没有走的路
金色的树林中
脚下的路分成了两条
可惜我的选择
驻足凝思
望着其中的一条曲深绵延
直到视野的尽头；
在茂密的林荫深丛
渐渐的消失
为了公平，我选择走的
是另外一条
或许它更值得亲睐
因为它依旧青翠娇嫩，人迹罕至
然而
无论走那条路对我来说
其实没有区别
他们都静静地沐浴在晨光里
浸没在落叶中
似乎从未沾染过旅人的足迹。
哦，那我改天再走另一条好吧！
......
但我知道
那时脚下的路又会通向未知另一条
也许此行将又是绝别
以后我就会叹息着告诉人们这样一个故事，
很久很久以前的今天：
有两条路躺在我面前，而我......
我选择了走的人少的那条，
于是
那便成为我一生的道路。
[[i] 本帖最后由 showmen 于 2006-5-9 21:33 编辑 [/i]] 翻译诗歌是一件相当困难的事
因为要把握原诗的色彩
但又不能太过强加自己的思想 Food for thought
There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real!
When the door of happiness closes, another opens,
but often times we look so long at the closed door
that we don't see the one which has been opened for us.
Don't go for looks; they can deceive.
Don't go for wealth; even that fades away.
Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes
only a smile to make a dark day seem bright.
Find the one that makes your heart smile.
Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go;
be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.
May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to make you happy.
The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.
Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear.
The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past, you can't go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.
When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling.
Live your life so that when you die, you're the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.
心灵鸡汤
生命中思念他人的瞬间总会憧憬一段梦幻的邂逅，希冀一个真实的拥抱。
不曾知道，一种幸福的结束往往又是另一种幸福的开始，可我们却总是沉浸于前者消散的痛苦而忽视了后者降临的喜悦。
倾城的美貌下常常隐匿着罪恶的欺骗，而纸醉金迷的奢华又总会散作风中飘落的败絮。唯有她的微笑，能为这个黑暗的世界里带来希望和光明，在我冰冷而落寞的心中播撒欢乐和温馨。她，便是我永远寻找的彼岸。
拥有自己的理想，掌握自己的方向，坚持自己的梦想，因为生命对于我们只有一次，而生命中的每一刻都在我们的每一次抉择中慢慢流逝。
真诚地祝福所有人可以在快乐中享受甜蜜，在成长中积蓄力量，在期盼中等待幸福。
世上最快乐的人并非拥有了美妙的一切，而是让自己拥有的一切成为世上最美妙的快乐。
一段爱情在微笑中萌发，在拥吻中升华，又在泪水里沉淀。
远大前程背后往往积淀着难以忘却的纪念，然而一味沉溺于曾经的失败和伤痛，只会将飞向光明的灵魂拖入幽暗的深渊。
当出世的那一刻，你在人们慈爱的笑容中哭着降临；生命由此开始，所以当它即将消逝的那一刻，也请你在人们忧伤的泪光里笑着离开。 之前写的我都删了，只放和翻译有关的文章了
Youth
Samuel Ullman
Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.
Youth means a tempera-mental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of 60 more than a boy of 20. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.
Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spring back to dust.
Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing childlike appetite of what’s next and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station: so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from the Infinite, so long are you young.
When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at 20, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young at 80.
青春
萨默艾尔．沃尔曼
青春不是一段生命的时间而是一种心灵的状态；它并非意味着玫瑰色的面庞，鲜艳美丽的嘴唇，或是轻灵舒展步伐；而是象征着一种坚强的意志，一种惊人的想象和一种强烈的情感；它是生命中最清新最浓郁的春景。
青春蕴含着的是一种变幻莫测的心境，勇敢常常战胜羞怯，对冒险的冲动常常压倒对安逸的留恋。
比起花甲的老人，青春更垂青于弱冠的少年。人由于理想的沦丧而迈向迟暮，却从不因为时间的流逝而走入衰老。时间的流逝会让年轻的肌肤褪去光泽，而热情的消亡却会让强健灵魂满生皱纹。忧虑，恐惧和懦弱扭曲着心灵，终将充满生气的春季送进灰暗沉寂的荒漠。
无论是年过花甲还是弱冠冲发，每个人的心中总会寄托着对于奇迹的憧憬，而对于生活中无尽的乐趣，我们有着孩子般天真的期待和向往。每个人的心里都有一个梦幻的站台，我们在这儿等待那发自人类世界和无限宇宙中满载着美好，希望，快乐，勇气和力量的空中列车。站台上等待的每一刻，都是我们青春闪耀的存在。
当梦幻的航线黯然地陨落，我们的心也将被玩世不恭的雪雨所淹没，被悲观失落的冰霜所尘封，即使那时我们年轻，却也已经走向了衰老。然而，只要那梦幻的航线依旧，保持乐观的心态，那时的我们即已迟暮，生活的希望却也将永久盛开。 Beauty
There were a sensitivity and a beauty to her that have nothing to do with looks. She was one to be listened to, whose words were so easy to take to heart.
It is said that the true nature of being is veiled. The labor of words, the expression of art, the seemingly ceaseless buzz that is human thought all have in common the need to get at what really is so. The hope to draw close to and possess the truth of being can be a feverish one. In some cases it can even be fatal, if pleasure is one's truth and its attainment more important than life itself. In other lives, though, the search for what is truthful gives life.
I used to find notes left in the collection basket, beautiful notes about my homilies and about the writer's thoughts on the daily scriptural readings. The person who penned the notes would add reflections to my thoughts and would always include some quotes from poets and mystics he or she had read and remembered and loved. The notes fascinated me. Here was someone immersed in a search for truth and beauty. Words had been treasured, words that were beautiful. And I felt as if the words somehow delighted in being discovered, for they were obviously very generous to the as yet anonymous writer of the notes. And now this person was in turn learning the secret of sharing them. Beauty so shines when given away. The only truth that exists is, in that sense, free.
It was a long time before I met the author of the notes.
One Sunday morning, I was told that someone was waiting for me in the office. The young person who answered the rectory door said that it was "the woman who said she left all the notes." When I saw her I was shocked, since I immediately recognized her from church but had no idea that it was she who wrote the notes. She was sitting in a chair in the office with her hands folded in her lap. Her head was bowed and when she raised it to look at me, she could barely smile without pain. Her face was disfigured, and the skin so tight from surgical procedures that smiling or laughing was very difficult for her. She had suffered terribly from treatment to remove the growths that had so marred her face.
We chatted for a while that Sunday morning and agreed to meet for lunch later that week.
As it turned out we went to lunch several times, and she always wore a hat during the meal. I think that treatments of some sort had caused a lot of her hair to fall out. We shared things about our lives. I told her about my schooling and growing up. She told me that she had worked for years for an insurance company. She never mentioned family, and I did not ask.
We spoke of authors we both had read, and it was easy to tell that books are a great love of hers.
I have thought about her often over the years and how she struggled in a society that places an incredible premium on looks, class, wealth and all the other fineries of life. She suffered from a disfigurement that cannot be made to look attractive. I know that her condition hurt her deeply.
Would her life have been different had she been pretty? Chances are it would have. And yet there were a sensitivity and a beauty to her that had nothing to do with looks. She was one to be listened to, whose words were so easy to take to heart. Her words came from a wounded but loving heart, very much like all hearts, but she had more of a need to be aware of it, to live with it and learn from it. She possessed a fine-tuned sense of beauty. Her only fear in life was the loss of a friend.
How long does it take most of us to reach that level of human growth, if we ever get there? We get so consumed and diminished, worrying about all the things that need improving, we can easily forget to cherish those things that last. Friendship, so rare and so good, just needs our care--maybe even the simple gesture of writing a little note now and then, or the dropping of some beautiful words in a basket, in the hope that such beauty will be shared and taken to heart.
The truth of her life was a desire to see beyond the surface for a glimpse of what it is that matters. She found beauty and grace and they befriended her, and showed her what is real.
美丽人生
她，冷艳而动人，多情而善感，而这一切与容貌无关。倾听她的心声，好似一阵清风吹透你的心扉。
不知何时，人类的本性被掩饰了起来。那些雕琢修饰的语汇，那些充满艺术的描述，那些看似漫不经心的言谈，都是我们为追寻所谓的真相而产生的思维碰撞；对于接近真理的渴望使我们群情激昂；可当追求这种虚幻的快感成为我们心中的真理胜过追求生活本身时，这一切将成为我们致命的创伤。而在有些人，对于坦诚和真挚的求索却给予了他们生命永恒的光耀。
我曾在教堂的心意篮里找到一张字条，美妙的文字记述着作者对于倾听我讲道和阅读圣经而生发的感思。那位作者留下的话语时常带我陷入沉思与共鸣，时常又引出那些令我们似曾相识而又倍感亲切的诗句；有的源于浪漫的诗人，有的源于那些隐喻莫测的神秘主义者，可无论是哪一种，都是我们所深深喜爱的诗句。那张字条令我陶然而迷醉。我仿佛找到了一个倾心寻找真实与美丽的人间天使。她的每一句都流淌着珍贵美好的情感，每一字都迸发着一种欢快和愉悦，仿佛那些文字因被人发现而豁然闪烁，要将自己的光辉像它们匿名的主人一样慷慨地普照世界。而现在，那个人正开始学会掌握分享这一切秘诀。当我们分享美的时候，它又是多么璀璨而绚丽啊！原来只有一个真理，那便是像这样的纵情与自由！
直到很久以后我才见到了那位字条的作者。一个星期天的上午，我得知有人在办公室等我。为教区开门的年轻人告诉我那个人就是那个留下字条的女士。当我看见她的时候，我震惊了。我立刻回想起了她曾出现在教堂的身影，当时我未曾想到正是她留下了那张字条。她低头宁坐，两只手紧握着放在隙间。当她抬头看我的时候，一个艰难的微笑凝固在她因抽动而痛苦的脸上。她的脸遭受了毁容，外科手术使得她的紧绷的皮肤显得僵硬，任何的微笑对她来说都是极为困难的，切除肿瘤的治疗使她备受煎熬和折磨。我们在星期天的早上聊了一会，并约定过几天一起吃午饭，而后来我们多次共尽午餐。她总是在饭间戴着一顶帽子，我想那或许是因为某种治疗使她头发脱落的缘故。我们彼此畅谈自己的生活，我讲述了自己修学与成长的经历，她则告诉我曾为一家保险公司工作多年。我们谈论那些我们了解的作家和作品，而显然书本正是她所钟爱的。许多年了，我曾想她是怎样坚强地生活在这个这个把容貌，阶级，财富和那些所有的华丽与虚荣作为衡量价值尺度的现实社会。她因为遭受毁容而不再迷人，我知道那一定使她深受伤害。如果她拥有美貌，生活是否又会大相径庭呢？也许是，也许不是。而现在，她多情而善感，冷艳而动人，而这一切都与容貌无关。倾听她的心声，好似一阵清风吹透你的心扉。她的每一句话让我看到一个饱尝伤害却充满挚爱的灵魂，就像我们同样脆弱而敏感的心灵，只是她更需要别人的关怀来勇敢地学会生存与面对。她有着一种令人欣赏并向往的美丽。她生活中唯一害怕的只是是失去朋友。
对于我们大多数人而言，如果尚有可能，究竟需要多长时间才达能到那种生命崇高而自由的生华呢？过分的奢侈和无度的挥霍让耗尽了我们生命的韶华，纵容着欲望永无止境的滋生而让自己惶恐不安，未曾珍视那些慢慢远逝的真情而使得自己后悔末及。友谊，珍贵而美好，或许只需要我们细心地灌溉与呵护，或许只需要我们几句的简单言语或馨然的暗示，或许只需要几片散落在篮子中温情的诗语，便可让这种真挚的美成为彼此甜蜜的分享，成为心中闪烁的繁星。
她对于生活的追求便存于这样一种超然的渴望，生于那样一瞥释怀的回眸。她找到了美，而美也与她为伴，并最终给予她生命的真谛。
[[i] 本帖最后由 showmen 于 2006-7-15 12:00 编辑 [/i]] [b]Autumn Leaves[/b]
The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward. Her head was half bent to watch her shoes stir the circling leaves.
Her face was slender and milk white, and in it was a kind of gentle hunger that touched over everything with tireless curiosity.
It was a look, almost, of pale surprise, the dark eyes were so fixed to the world that no move escaped them. Her dress was white and it whispered.
He almost thought he heard the motion of her hands as she walked, and the infinitely small sound now, the white stir of her face turning when she discovered she was a moment away from a man who stood in the middle of the pavement waiting.
[b]秋风中的落叶[/b]
秋风中的落叶飘洒在流淌着月光的街上，载着女孩随风滑行。
她低头凝视着在脚边飞舞盘旋的树叶，面容晰白而消瘦，泛着一种温柔的渴望和无尽的好奇，深邃的眼中闪烁着近乎惊讶的神情，好像要将世界所有的秘密收入眼底，身下洁白的衣裙伴着晚风息息簌簌地窃声私语。
他感觉似乎都能听到女孩摆动双手的声音。夜水般的寂静在霎那凝固了他们时间，她微微转过自己清秀的脸庞，在不远处的路的中央，她看到了，那个他。
[[i] 本帖最后由 showmen 于 2006-7-15 12:07 编辑 [/i]] 好东西~~ Westminster Abbey
When I am in a serious humor, I very often walk by myself in Westminster Abbey; where the gloominess of the place, and the use to which it is applied, with the solemnity of the building, and the condition of the people who lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness, that is not disagreeable.
I yesterday passed a whole afternoon in the churchyard, the cloisters, and the church, amusing myself with the tombstones and inscriptions that I met with in those several regions of the dead. Most of them recorded nothing else of the buried person, but that he was born upon one day, and died upon another: the whole history of his life being comprehended in those two circumstances, that are common to all mankind.
I could not but look upon these registers of existence, whether of brass or marble, as a kind of satire upon the departed persons; who had left no other memorial of them, but that they were born and that they died.
当我心绪沉重的时候，我总会独自前往威斯敏斯特教堂，那个充满着阴郁和忧伤的地方。神圣而庄严的建筑，在里面宁静而安详地躺着的人们散发着幽深而诡异的气息将我带进 一个充满着忧郁和悲伤的梦，没有厌恶，没有怨恨，只是陷入无边无际的沉思中。
昨天午后，我一直穿行于这片墓地，教堂和修道院之间，让自己在那些墓石和碑铭中浸溺于死亡的氛围中。对于脚下这些被埋葬的亡灵，他们大多数没有留下关于自己的任何的记载，唯一为人所知的或许只是他们在某一天降生又在另一天离开。那是他们一生中必然的两个的阶段，也是整个人类必然的历史。
我无从查证墓碑上印刻着的含义；黄铜的也好，大理石的也罢，都默默地矗立在死者的坟堆上，没有留下其他的哀思和悼念，像是一种晦涩的讽刺，暗示着人们：他们由生开始，以死结束。。。。。。
那里的有埋葬着最伟大灵魂的诗人角，雪莱，华滋华斯和拜伦...... 我太钦佩lz的翻译能力了~~~~~~ 楼上的名字让我想起了UD... 纯崇拜一下。。。 其实做好一个翻译很难
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