原著：Fungi from Yuggoth
作者： H. P. Lovecraft
aaa3am
译者
克苏鲁爱的战士，多篇文章翻译者。
I. 书
这地方黯淡无光，灰尘漫天，
几乎快要消失在码头附近小巷中的混乱喧嚣里，
它散发着来自大海的怪异海产的臭气，
同时在西风吹荡下雾气形成了诡异的漩涡。
被烟雾和寒霜掩盖小型菱形窗格，
正展示了那些书，堆在一起如同扭曲的树木，
它们从地板堆到房顶，大多腐烂了，
一堆破碎崩坏的古老学识是如此廉价。
我进入房间，着魔似的，从一堆布满蜘蛛网的书中，
拿起了离我最近的那册，并快速翻阅了它，
这些奇异的文字似乎守护着某个秘密，我因此颤抖不停，
要是有人了解这个怪异荒谬的秘密那多好啊。
随后，当我寻找着这堆手工制品中的某位老卖主时，
我发现，这里根本没人，却只有一个声音在嘲笑着我。
I. The Book
The place was dark and dusty and half-lost
In tangles of old alleys near the quays,
Reeking of strange things brought in from the seas,
And with queer curls of fog that west winds tossed.
Small lozenge panes, obscured by smoke and frost,
Just shewed the books, in piles like twisted trees,
Rotting from floor to roof – congeries
Of crumbling elder lore at little cost.
I entered, charmed, and from a cobwebbed heap
Took up the nearest tome and thumbed it through,
Trembling at curious words that seemed to keep
Some secret, monstrous if one only knew.
Then, looking for some seller old in craft,
I could find nothing but a voice that laughed.
II. 追逐
我拿起那本书，放在大衣下面，用尽全力，
藏起这东西，防止在这样一个地方被人看见；
随后我快跑穿过这古老海港的小路，
不时回头观望，步调紧张。
阴暗鬼祟的窗户，藏身于古老蹒跚的砖块中，
在我跑过时，古怪地凝视着我，
一想到它们背后隐藏的东西，尽管我盯了
洁净的蓝天一眼来改善，我也感到厌恶。
没人看到了我拿走这东西，但是一种
空虚的嘲笑声依旧在我眩晕的脑子里回响，
同时我能想象到，我曾垂涎的那堆书里
潜伏着的是怎样如夜般黑暗的邪恶世界。
道路越来越诡异——墙面似曾相似令人发狂——
同时在我身后远处，看不见的双脚正轻轻踱步。
II. Pursuit
I held the book beneath my coat, at pains
To hide the thing from sight in such a place;
Hurrying through the ancient harbor lanes
With often-turning head and nervous pace.
Dull, furtive windows in old tottering brick
Peered at me oddly as I hastened by,
And thinking what they sheltered, I grew sick
For a redeeming glimpse of clean blue sky.
No one had seen me take the thing – but still
A blank laugh echoed in my whirling head,
And I could guess what nighted worlds of ill
Lurked in that volume I had coveted.
The way grew strange – the walls alike and madding –
And far behind me, unseen feet were padding.
III. 钥匙
我不知道是什么扭曲与缠绕，在那些怪异的
海道的废墟中，引领我再一次回到了家，
但到了家的门廊上我不停颤抖，脸色苍白，
急忙进屋，给厚重的大门插上门闩。
我拥有了那本书，讲述了那隐藏的道路，
跨越虚空，穿过挂在空间中的幕布，
它支撑着海港那里那些无法用维度描述的世界，
同时坚守着遗失了的万古中他们自己的私有领地。
最终，这钥匙属于我，通往那些模糊的美景，
那些沉思着的落日的螺旋与黎明的森林，
在那超越了这个地球的精密海渊中渐渐暗淡，
它潜藏着，仿佛无穷无尽的记忆。
这钥匙属于我，但当我坐在那里喃喃自语时，
阁楼上的窗户在轻微的摸索中不停摇晃。
III. The Key
I do not know what windings in the waste
Of those strange sea-lanes brought me home once more,
But on my porch I trembled, white with haste
To get inside and bolt the heavy door.
I had the book that told the hidden way
Across the void and through the space-hung screens
That hold the undimensioned worlds at bay,
And keep lost aeons to their own demesnes.
At last the key was mine to those vague visions
Of sunset spires and twilight woods that brood
Dim in the gulfs beyond this earth’s precisions,
Lurking as memories of infinitude.
The key was mine, but as I sat there mumbling,
The attic window shook with a faint fumbling.
IV. 认出
这一天已再次到来，即当我还是个孩子时
我看见——仅有一次——一片古老橡树林间的空地，
灰白色，而地面上令人窒息的扭曲薄雾
有着那已被疯狂沾污的潜藏着的形状。
同样的情况——一片繁茂狂野的草地
围绕着一个祭坛，祭坛上雕刻的记号记载了
向“那无名的存在”祈求的情形，万古已逝，
从那高高堆砌而成的不洁塔群上为它升起了无数烟雾。
我看见那个身躯躺在那块潮湿的石头上，
随后知晓了那些正在享受盛宴的存在并非人类；
我明白这个怪异的灰色的世界并非原本我的处所，
而是犹格斯，穿越群星满布的虚空的存在——然后
那个身躯对着我发出了临死前的尖叫与哭喊，
那时我才发觉——已然太晚——那身躯即是我自己！
IV. Recognitions
The day had come again, when as a child
I saw – just once – that hollow of old oaks,
Grey with a ground-mist that enfolds and chokes
The slinking shapes which madness has defiled.
It was the same – an herbage rank and wild
Clings round an altar whose carved sign invokes
That Nameless One to whom a thousand smokes
Rose, aeons gone, from unclean towers up-piled.
I saw the body spread on that dank stone,
And knew those things which feasted were not men;
I knew this strange, grey world was not my own,
But Yuggoth, past the starry voids – and then
The body shrieked at me with a dead cry,
And all too late I knew that it was I!
V. 归乡
那个恶魔说他愿意带我回到家乡，
带我回到那个我勉强能回忆起的苍白阴郁的地方，
那仿佛是一个至高的场所，由楼梯与天台构成，
被天空的风所吹拂的大理石栏杆包围，
而几英里下的世界，却是一个，
沿着海岸边蔓延开的层层叠叠圆屋顶与高塔组成的迷宫。
曾有一次，他告诉我，我将着迷般站在
这些古老的高地上，聆听远处传来的海潮声。
他向我允诺所有这一切，同时通过落日的大门，
他拉扯着我，穿过汹涌的火焰之湖，
与无名的诸神们那红金色的王座，
而这些诸神会对着某个即将到来的命运发出恐惧的尖叫。
随后，夜色中，从一片漆黑海湾传来带着海潮声的声音：
“这即是你的家，”他嘲弄道，“当你能看见时！”
V. Homecoming
The daemon said that he would take me home
To the pale, shadowy land I half recalled
As a high place of stair and terrace, walled
With marble balustrades that sky-winds comb,
While miles below a maze of dome on dome
And tower on tower beside a sea lies sprawled.
Once more, he told me, I would stand enthralled
On those old heights, and hear the far-off foam.
All this he promised, and through sunset’s gate
He swept me, past the lapping lakes of flame,
And red-gold thrones of gods without a name
Who shriek in fear at some impending fate.
Then a black gulf with sea-sounds in the night:
“Here was your home,” he mocked, “when you had sight!”
VI. 油灯
我们在那些中空的悬崖上发现了那盏油灯，
底比斯没有一个祭司能够阅读上面雕刻的记号，
而悬崖山洞中的令人恐惧的象形文字，
向每个活着的生物警告着大地孕育出的存在。
那里没有更多东西——只有那盏黄铜的杯状物，
杯里布满了古怪的灯油的痕迹；
以及某卷画满令人费解图案的卷轴，满是磨损，
还有模糊地暗示出怪异罪恶的标志符号。
当我们赢得那细长的奖品时
四十个世纪的恐惧对我们来说几乎不算什么，
我们在渐渐变黑的帐篷中仔细检查它，
接着点燃了一根火柴来测试这古老的灯油。
它发光了——伟大的神啊！……然而在那疯狂的闪光中，
我们眼中那些巨大的形体已经在敬畏中烤干了我们的生命。
VI. The Lamp
We found the lamp inside those hollow cliffs
Whose chiseled sign no priest in Thebes could read,
And from whose caverns frightened hieroglyphs
Warned every living creature of earth’s breed.
No more was there – just that one brazen bowl
With traces of a curious oil within;
Fretted with some obscurely patterned scroll,
And symbols hinting vaguely of strange sin.
Little the fears of forty centuries meant
To us as we bore off our slender spoil,
And when we scanned it in our darkened tent
We struck a match to test the ancient oil.
It blazed – great God!… But the vast shapes we saw
In that mad flash have seared our lives with awe.
VII. 扎曼之山
那座宏伟山岗临近旧镇，如同悬挂在上方一样，
主大街的尽头便是一片绝壁；
它呈现绿色，高高耸立，被树林覆盖，
阴郁地蔑视着大路转弯处的尖塔。
两百年来谣言四起，内容都是关于
那人人敬而远之的山坡上的事件——
传说的主角是只被很奇怪的方式弄伤的鹿或者鸟，
或者那些亲戚们早已绝望的迷路男孩们。
某天邮递员发现，镇子消失了。
它的镇民和房屋也再也没被人看见过；
人们从艾尔斯伯里出发到这里前来观看——
但他们都告诉邮递员，很明显可以看出，
他已经因为宣称自己已经发现了那座宏伟山岗
那饕餮的眼睛与大大张开的巨颚而发疯了。
VII. Zaman’s Hill
The great hill hung close over the old town,
A precipice against the main street’s end;
Green, tall, and wooded, looking darkly down
Upon the steeple at the highway bend.
Two hundred years the whispers had been heard
About what happened on the man-shunned slope –
Tales of an oddly mangled deer or bird,
Or of lost boys whose kin had ceased to hope.
One day the mail-man found no village there,
Nor were its folk or houses seen again;
People came out from Aylesbury to stare –
Yet they all told the mail-man it was plain
That he was mad for saying he had spied
The great hill’s gluttonous eyes, and jaws stretched wide.
VIII. 港口
在距离阿卡姆十英里的一条小路上我的车熄火了，
这小路位于博因顿滩市正上方悬崖边缘，
我希望在落日之前能够到达
那座能俯瞰位于山谷里的因斯茅斯的山峰。
一只渐渐远去的船帆飘荡在大海深处，
雪白无比，仿佛是由远古之风常年猛烈的吹拂下染白，
但却充满了无可名状的预兆与邪恶，
所以我并没有向它挥手致敬。
从因斯茅斯扬帆启航！久远而逝去的时光里
回响起的远古名望。但如今夜晚已然
迅速临近，而我已到达那座山峰，
那座我曾时常审视远处小镇的山峰。
那些螺旋尖塔和屋顶都在那儿——但看啊！
幽暗在漆黑的街道上四处渗透，如同坟墓一般黯淡无光！
VIII. The Port
Ten miles from Arkham I had struck the trail
That rides the cliff-edge over Boynton Beach,
And hoped that just at sunset I could reach
The crest that looks on Innsmouth in the vale.
Far out at sea was a retreating sail,
White as hard years of ancient winds could bleach,
But evil with some portent beyond speech,
So that I did not wave my hand or hail.
Sails out of Innsmouth! echoing old renown
Of long-dead times. But now a too-swift night
Is closing in, and I have reached the height
Whence I so often scan the distant town.
The spires and roofs are there – but look! The gloom
Sinks on dark lanes, as lightless as the tomb!
IX. 庭院
这即是我曾经认识的那座城市；
那座古老而不洁的都市，城里杂种的人群
在临近海岸的污秽小巷下方的地下室里，
向着怪异的神明们赞美颂唱，敲打着渎神的锣鼓。
那些正在腐烂的鱼眼房屋，用它们那歪斜，
如同醉酒般，似乎有生命的眼睛，不怀好意地瞥视着我，
我缓缓步过那些污秽之物，通过了那扇大门，
到达了这座幽暗的庭院，“那个人”会出现地方。
漆黑的墙将我包围，而我大声诅咒着
我不该来到这样一个贼窝般的地方，
突然许许多多的窗户猛然打开，
狂热的光线涌射进来，跳舞的人群蜂拥而至：
那是由蹒跚的死者举行的疯狂而无声的狂欢——
而那些尸体没有一具还有着头颅或者双手！
IX. The Courtyard
It was the city I had known before;
The ancient, leprous town where mongrel throngs
Chant to strange gods, and beat unhallowed gongs
In crypts beneath foul alleys near the shore.
The rotting, fish-eyed houses leered at me
From where they leaned, drunk and half-animate,
As edging through the filth I passed the gate
To the black courtyard where the man would be.
The dark walls closed me in, and loud I cursed
That ever I had come to such a den,
When suddenly a score of windows burst
Into wild light, and swarmed with dancing men:
Mad, soundless revels of the dragging dead –
And not a corpse had either hands or head!
X. 飞鸽传信
他们带我去了贫民窟，这里荒凉的砖墙
向外膨胀着某种黏滑与积聚起的恶毒，
邪恶的人们蜂拥而至，脸庞扭曲，
向异形的神明与恶魔发送出闪光的信号。
千千万万的火焰正在街道上闪耀，
而在那平坦的屋顶上，一个鬼鬼祟祟的家伙放飞了
满身泥污的鸟儿们，放它们飞进迸裂开巨口的天空，
同时不可见的鼓嗡嗡作响，奏出了有规则的节拍。
我知道这些火焰正在酝酿着荒谬怪异的东西，
而这些空间中的飞鸟们曾是来自“外界”——
我想知道它们是来往于怎样的黑暗行星的地穴，
它们在双翼下从索格带来的又是怎样的存在？
其他的人大笑起来——直到他们被一只飞鸟那邪恶的喙里，
所瞥见的东西震惊得嗓音嘶哑说不出话。
X. The Pigeon-Flyers
They took me slumming, where gaunt walls of brick
Bulge outward with a viscous stored-up evil,
And twisted faces, thronging foul and thick,
Wink messages to alien god and devil.
A million fires were blazing in the streets,
And from flat roofs a furtive few would fly
Bedraggled birds into the yawning sky
While hidden drums droned on with measured beats.
I knew those fires were brewing monstrous things,
And that those birds of space had been Outside –
I guessed to what dark planet’s crypts they plied,
And what they brought from Thog beneath their wings.
The others laughed – till struck too mute to speak
By what they glimpsed in one bird’s evil beak.
XI. 井
农夫赛斯?艾特伍德已经年过八十，
他正在尝试去挖掘他家门前的那口深井，
只有艾布在帮他又挖又钻。
我们都笑了，希望他能很快再次恢复理智。
然而，相反的是，年轻的艾布也疯掉了，
所以他们把他送上船，去了郡里的农场。
赛斯把井口用砖块封了起来，堆得像一团凝胶一样坚固——
接着砍断了他那扭曲粗糙的左手臂上的一条动脉。
葬礼之后，我们觉得自己有义务去弄清楚
那口井里的东西，于是把那堆砖块给砸开了，
但我们看见的全部东西仅仅是一对铁质扶手，
向下通往一个比我们所能表述的更深的黑洞。
于是之后我们就把砖块堆了回去——因为我们发现
这洞太深了，以至于没有任何绳子能够测量它的深度。
XI. The Well
Farmer Seth Atwood was past eighty when
He tried to sink that deep well by his door,
With only Eb to help him bore and bore.
We laughed, and hoped he’d soon be sane again.
And yet, instead, young Eb went crazy, too,
So that they shipped him to the county farm.
Seth bricked the well-mouth up as tight as glue –
Then hacked an artery in his gnarled left arm.
After the funeral we felt bound to get
Out to that well and rip the bricks away,
But all we saw were iron hand-holds set
Down a black hole deeper than we could say.
And yet we put the bricks back – for we found
The hole too deep for any line to sound.
XII. 咆哮者
他们告诉我不要从那条布里格斯山间道路上通过，
那条曾是通往佐尔最方便最快捷的山路，
因为古迪?怀特金丝曾在1704年于此上吊，
从而在这里留下了某种十分怪异的诅咒。
但是我并未遵守他们的话，并且当看到那座
位于那片宏伟的岩石山坡下方挂满藤蔓的小屋时，
我并未考虑到那些榆树和麻绳，
却在奇怪为什么这房子看上去依旧如此崭新。
当我停下来歇息一小会儿，观看落日的风景时，
我听到了令人头晕的咆哮，似乎就是从楼上的房间里发出的，
这时落日的光辉从布满常春藤的窗格间
猛然闯入，不知不觉中捕捉住了那个咆哮者的身影。
我瞥了一眼——便在狂乱中疯狂逃离了那个地方，
从一只有着人类面孔的四爪怪兽身边疯狂逃离。
XII. The Howler
They told me not to take the Briggs’ Hill path
That used to be the highroad through to Zoar,
For Goody Watkins, hanged in seventeen-four,
Had left a certain monstrous aftermath.
Yet when I disobeyed, and had in view
The vine-hung cottage by the great rock slope,
I could not think of elms or hempen rope,
But wondered why the house still seemed so new.
Stopping a while to watch the fading day,
I heard faint howls, as from a room upstairs,
When through the ivied panes one sunset ray
Struck in, and caught the howler unawares.
I glimpsed – and ran in frenzy from the place,
And from a four-pawed thing with human face.
Aftermath是不愉快的后果的意思引申成诅咒
XIII. 黄昏之国
这凛冬的落日，在几乎超然于这呆滞气氛的
螺旋尖塔和烟囱上方熠熠生辉，
它打开了通往某个已被遗忘的年代的雄伟大门，
那个年代充满了古老的显赫与神圣的渴望。
令人满怀期待的奇观在那些明亮的火焰中燃烧着，
充满冒险精神，并且还未染上恐惧的色彩；
一排排斯芬克斯脚下，道路清晰地把人领向
那些在远远的七弦竖琴声中微微颤抖的城墙与角楼。
这便是那土地：美丽于此拥有意味深长的鲜花；
每一片没有凭依的记忆于此拥有一个源头；
那条伟大的光阴之河于此开始了它的旅途
在星光照耀下的时间溪流中穿越那浩瀚的虚空。
梦境引领我们靠近——但远古的学识不断重复：
人类的步伐还从未曾玷污过这些街道。
XIII. Hesperia
The winter sunset, flaming beyond spires
And chimneys half-detached from this dull sphere,
Opens great gates to some forgotten year
Of elder splendours and divine desires.
Expectant wonders burn in those rich fires,
Adventure-fraught, and not untinged with fear;
A row of sphinxes where the way leads clear
Toward walls and turrets quivering to far lyres.
It is the land where beauty’s meaning flowers;
Where every unplaced memory has a source;
Where the great river Time begins its course
Down the vast void in starlit streams of hours.
Dreams bring us close – but ancient lore repeats
That human tread has never soiled these streets.
Hesperia意思很多 古代诗人用来指 “西方之国” “western land”
同时也是希腊神话中守护金苹果赫斯珀里得斯Hesperides的三仙女之一
Hesperia在三仙女中代表“黄昏”
综合一下诗描写的内容标题就这样翻译了
这首诗的标题我觉得翻译成“赫斯珀里亚”音译也挺美的
XIV. 星辰之风
那是某个暮光渐渐沉沦的时刻，
大约是在秋季，星辰之风于此时如骤雨般降临
在小山顶的街道上，令户外的一切变得无比荒凉，
但反而凸显出了舒适的房间里早早亮起的灯火。
那些凋亡的落叶在怪异而奇妙的扭曲中匆匆飞过，
而烟囱里冒出的烟气在异样的优雅中来回旋转，
形成令人留意的来自外太空的几何图形，
同时，北落师门透过向南飘过的薄雾窥视而来。
这个时刻，即是神经错乱的诗人们知晓
是怎样的真菌在犹格斯上发芽，是什么鲜花的
气味和色彩填满了尼松的大陆的时刻，
诸如在粗劣的尘世花园中吹拂而过的那样。
但是作为这些风带来的每个梦境的代价，
它们将更多不计其数的那些属于我们的梦境一扫而光！
XIV. Star-Winds
It is a certain hour of twilight glooms,
Mostly in autumn, when the star-wind pours
Down hilltop streets, deserted out-of-doors,
But shewing early lamplight from snug rooms.
The dead leaves rush in strange, fantastic twists,
And chimney-smoke whirls round with alien grace,
Heeding geometries of outer space,
While Fomalhaut peers in through southward mists.
This is the hour when moonstruck poets know
What fungi sprout in Yuggoth, and what scents
And tints of flowers fill Nithon’s continents,
Such as in no poor earthly garden blow.
Yet for each dream these winds to us convey,
A dozen more of ours they sweep away!
XV. 极南之地
在我深深的梦境里，那巨鸟在我耳边奇异地
低语着极地荒野中那黑色的圆锥体；
它独自阴郁地穿过冰雪覆盖向上破冰而出，
经历了风暴狂怒咆哮的万千时光，满是凹痕和擦损。
这儿没有任何活着的地球生物进行他们的建设，
而只有苍白的极光与昏暗的日光
闪耀在那遍布疤痕的岩石上，而它最初的起源
模模糊糊地被认为来自于上古者们。
如果有人类曾看过它一眼，他们仅仅会怀疑
大自然有着怎样的鬼斧神工，造就了他们所发现的；
但那只鸟说到了更深奥的部分：在这些被冰雪包围
好几英里的深处，有什么在蜷伏着，孵化着，等待着。
上帝啊！帮帮那个做梦的人吧！他疯狂的视野向他展示了
位于水晶深渊下方那些死亡般的眼睛！
XV. Antarktos
Deep in my dream the great bird whispered queerly
Of the black cone amid the polar waste;
Pushing above the ice-sheet lone and drearly,
By storm-crazed aeons battered and defaced.
Hither no living earth-shapes take their courses,
And only pale auroras and faint suns
Glow on that pitted rock, whose primal sources
Are guessed at dimly by the Elder Ones.
If men should glimpse it, they would merely wonder
What tricky mound of Nature’s build they spied;
But the bird told of vaster parts, that under
The mile-deep ice-shroud crouch and brood and bide.
God help the dreamer whose mad visions shew
Those dead eyes set in crystal gulfs below!
Antarktos 和Antarctica语源类似 都是说南极
Elder One不是elder thing 古老者 就暂时这样翻译
但看这篇里描写的样子似乎就是制造了修格斯的古老者
XVI. 窗户
这栋房屋及其古老，有着向外伸出复杂纠缠的厢房，
没人能够记录下它们的形状，
而在一间稍微靠房屋后方的小房间里，
有着一扇被远古石块封住的诡异窗户。
那儿，在被梦境折磨的童年里，我曾常常
孤身一人来到这儿，这被模糊而邪恶的夜色所统治的地方；
分开那些蜘蛛网时，奇妙的是，我心里毫无恐惧，
还感受到一种时时刻刻不停增长的惊奇。
后来有一天，我带了几位泥瓦匠过去，
想要找出我不太了解的先祖们封住了怎样的景观，
但当他们凿穿那块石头时，一阵急促的气流
从上方裂着嘴的异样虚空中爆发而出。
他们逃走了——但我极目远望，发现我的梦境
曾讲述过的那些狂野世界，全都展开在了我眼前。
XVI. The Window
The house was old, with tangled wings outthrown,
Of which no one could ever half keep track,
And in a small room somewhat near the back
Was an odd window sealed with ancient stone.
There, in a dream-plagued childhood, quite alone
I used to go, where night reigned vague and black;
Parting the cobwebs with a curious lack
Of fear, and with a wonder each time grown.
One later day I brought the masons there
To find what view my dim forbears had shunned,
But as they pierced the stone, a rush of air
Burst from the alien voids that yawned beyond.
They fled – but I peered through and found unrolled
All the wild worlds of which my dreams had told.
XVII. 一段记忆
这儿有着雄伟的大草原和满是岩石的台地，
在星光闪耀的夜晚里几乎无止尽地延伸，
异样的营火于此散发出微弱的光芒，照耀在挂满
叮当作响的铃铛的野兽身上，照耀在蓬乱的兽群里。
平原对着遥远的南方渐渐向下倾斜，变低变宽，
直到抵达一排黑暗曲折的墙壁，这些墙壁存在于此
如同来自某个原初的时刻的巨大蟒蚺，
而无尽的时间已将它冷冻并石化。
我在寒冷而稀薄的空气中奇怪地颤抖起来，
并开始思考我位于哪儿，是如何到这儿的，
这时，一个在营火照耀下披着斗篷的身形，
出现并靠近我，同时呼唤着我的名字。
盯着那兜帽下毫无生命的脸孔，
我不再希冀——因为我已然知晓。
XVII. A Memory
There were great steppes, and rocky table-lands
Stretching half-limitless in starlit night,
With alien campfires shedding feeble light
On beasts with tinkling bells, in shaggy bands.
Far to the south the plain sloped low and wide
To a dark zigzag line of wall that lay
Like a huge python of some primal day
Which endless time had chilled and petrified.
I shivered oddly in the cold, thin air,
And wondered where I was and how I came,
When a cloaked form against a campfire’s glare
Rose and approached, and called me by my name.
Staring at that dead face beneath the hood,
I ceased to hope – because I understood.
XVIII. 阴之花园
布满青苔的塔群里，这片墙古老的砖石墙体
几乎快要达到天顶，而在它上方，
会有大片阶梯状的花园，种满鲜花，
那儿鸟语蜂鸣，蝶飞莺舞。
那里会有步道，和拱悬于温暖荷花池
上方的桥梁，池子则反射出了庙宇的屋檐，
还有长着雅致树枝和花瓣的樱花树，
紧靠一片粉红色天空，而苍鹭遨游于此。
一切都会在那儿，因为难道古老的梦境不曾猛然
打开过那扇通向充满石灯笼的迷宫的大门吗？
这里沉寂的溪流在蜿蜒的水道里悠闲度日，
弯曲的树枝上垂下的绿藤蔓延其中。
我匆匆而行——但这些墙体升了起来，冷酷又雄伟，
而我发现任何大门都不再存在了。
XVIII. The Gardens of Yin
Beyond that wall, whose ancient masonry
Reached almost to the sky in moss-thick towers,
There would be terraced gardens, rich with flowers,
And flutter of bird and butterfly and bee.
There would be walks, and bridges arching over
Warm lotos-pools reflecting temple eaves,
And cherry-trees with delicate boughs and leaves
Against a pink sky where the herons hover.
All would be there, for had not old dreams flung
Open the gate to that stone-lanterned maze
Where drowsy streams spin out their winding ways,
Trailed by green vines from bending branches hung?
I hurried – but when the wall rose, grim and great,
I found there was no longer any gate.
感情爱手艺大大眼中东方花园的天空都是粉红色的么……
XIX. 钟
年复一年，我听着那些飘荡在漆黑的午夜之风中，
几口有着深重音调的大钟传来的微弱而遥远的敲击声；
轰隆声不是从任何一个我能感觉得到的尖塔上发出，
但也奇怪，仿佛它们是飞越了某些巨大的虚空而来。
我在我的梦境和记忆中寻找着线索，
同时回忆起我的想象所带来的所有钟鸣声；
回忆起寂静的因斯茅斯，在这里，白鸥群逗留在了
一座我曾认识的古老螺旋尖塔附近。
在时常的困惑中我听着那些遥远的音符慢慢减弱，
直到一个三月的夜晚，阴湿的冻雨泼溅而下，
召唤着我回溯穿过记忆的大门，
到达那遍布轰鸣着的疯狂钟舌的古老塔群。
它们轰鸣着——但却是从死寂的海床上的沉没山谷中，
倾泻而出的那些阴暗潮水里传来的。
XIX. The Bells
Year after year I heard that faint, far ringing
Of deep-toned bells on the black midnight wind;
Peals from no steeple I could ever find,
But strange, as if across some great void winging.
I searched my dreams and memories for a clue,
And thought of all the chimes my visions carried;
Of quiet Innsmouth, where the white gulls tarried
Around an ancient spire that once I knew.
Always perplexed I heard those far notes falling,
Till one March night the bleak rain splashing cold
Beckoned me back through gateways of recalling
To elder towers where the mad clappers tolled.
They tolled – but from the sunless tides that pour
Through sunken valleys on the sea’s dead floor.
XX. 夜魇
我无法讲述，到底是怎样的地穴任它们爬行，
但每晚我都看见这些橡胶似的生物，
浑身漆黑，长着犄角，瘦长纤细，还有覆膜的双翼，
以及长着地狱般叉状分岔倒刺的尾巴。
它们数量众多，在北风的潮涌中前来，
在猥亵的双爪不停搔痒，刺痛中，
它们抓举起我开始了怪异的旅途，
前往那些深藏在噩梦源泉的灰色世界。
在索克那有缺口的山峰上方它们席卷而过，
一点也不在意我试图发出的叫喊，
然后沿着下方的山凹，到达那片污秽的湖泊，
这里，肿胀的肖格斯在可疑的睡梦中四处飞溅。
但是啊！要是它们能制造出一点声音，
或者在本该是脸的位置戴上一张脸面，该有多好啊！
XX. Night-Gaunts
Out of what crypt they crawl, I cannot tell,
But every night I see the rubbery things,
Black, horned, and slender, with membraneous wings,
And tails that bear the bifid barb of hell.
They come in legions on the north wind’s swell,
With obscene clutch that titillates and stings,
Snatching me off on monstrous voyagings
To grey worlds hidden deep in nightmare’s well.
Over the jagged peaks of Thok they sweep,
Heedless of all the cries I try to make,
And down the nether pits to that foul lake
Where the puffed shoggoths splash in doubtful sleep.
But oh! If only they would make some sound,
Or wear a face where faces should be found!
Thog and Thok 前面提到过
XXI. 奈亚拉托提普
而后最终从内埃及前来的，
乃是那另农夫们屈膝下跪的诡异黑暗者；
默不做声，身材瘦削，充满了神秘的骄傲，
并浑身包裹在如同落日光辉般火红的织物里。
人群聚集在他四周，疯狂地听候他的命令，
但他们离去时，却不能讲述所闻的内容；
同时全国各地流传着令人肃然起敬的传言，
传言中野兽们跟随着他并舔舐着他的双手。
不久后来自大海里的某种可憎存在开始诞生；
被遗忘的土地上长着野草的黄金螺旋尖塔；
大地开始龟裂，同时疯狂的极光在
颤抖的人类城堡上方翻滚而下。
其后，碾碎了他在游戏中偶然塑造的一切，
那愚痴的“混沌”吹散了地球的尘土。
XXI. Nyarlathotep
And at the last from inner Egypt came
The strange dark One to whom the fellahs bowed;
Silent and lean and cryptically proud,
And wrapped in fabrics red as sunset flame.
Throngs pressed around, frantic for his commands,
But leaving, could not tell what they had heard;
While through the nations spread the awestruck word
That wild beasts followed him and licked his hands.
Soon from the sea a noxious birth began;
Forgotten lands with weedy spires of gold;
The ground was cleft, and mad auroras rolled
Down on the quaking citadels of man.
Then, crushing what he chanced to mould in play,
The idiot Chaos blew Earth’s dust away.
XXII. 阿撒托斯
远在没有理智的虚空中，那恶魔孕育了我，
穿过有形空间的明亮星团，
直到无论时间或者物质也未在我面前延伸，
仅仅只有混沌，没有形态与居所。
这里茫茫的万物之主在黑暗中喃喃自语，
述说着他已梦见却无法理解的事物，
同时他身旁无形的蝙蝠样存在
在射线流激起的愚痴漩涡中四处扑腾，吹奏笛音。
它们随着那高亢，薄弱的哀鸣声疯狂起舞，
这声音来自一只怪异尖爪中的已然破碎的笛子。
从这里流出了漫无目的的波动，而它们偶然间的组合，
给每个脆弱的宇宙带去了它永恒的规律。
“我即是他的信使，”那恶魔说道，
同时在轻蔑中他敲打了他主人的头。
XXII. Azathoth
Out in the mindless void the daemon bore me,
Past the bright clusters of dimensioned space,
Till neither time nor matter stretched before me,
But only Chaos, without form or place.
Here the vast Lord of All in darkness muttered
Things he had dreamed but could not understand,
While near him shapeless bat-things flopped and fluttered
In idiot vortices that ray-streams fanned.
They danced insanely to the high, thin whining
Of a cracked flute clutched in a monstrous paw,
Whence flow the aimless waves whose chance combining
Gives each frail cosmos its eternal law.
“I am His Messenger,” the daemon said,
As in contempt he struck his Master’s head.
XXIII. 海市蜃楼
我不知道它是否曾经存在过——
那遗失的世界，模糊地漂浮在时光之河的水流上方——
然而我经常看见它，被紫罗兰色的雾霭所包围，
同时于某个暧昧的梦境底部闪烁着微光。
那儿有着陌生的高塔和层层叠叠的古怪河流，
满是奇迹的迷宫，以及布满光线的低矮穹顶，
还有与树枝交叉的火焰天空，诸如此类，
而它们恰好在一个冬夜之前充满渴望地颤动着。
宏伟的沼泽通向没有人烟，莎草茂密的海岸，
无数鸟儿们盘旋于此，同时在一座风中的山丘上，
坐落着一座村庄，十分古老，遍布白色尖顶，
还有着我静静聆听着的傍晚的钟声。
我不知道它是怎样的土地——或者敢于
询问什么时候，还有为什么我曾经在也将会在那里。
XXIII. Mirage
I do not know if ever it existed –
That lost world floating dimly on Time’s stream –
And yet I see it often, violet-misted,
And shimmering at the back of some vague dream.
There were strange towers and curious lapping rivers,
Labyrinths of wonder, and low vaults of light,
And bough-crossed skies of flame, like that which quivers
Wistfully just before a winter’s night.
Great moors led off to sedgy shores unpeopled,
Where vast birds wheeled, while on a windswept hill
There was a village, ancient and white-steepled,
With evening chimes for which I listen still.
I do not know what land it is – or dare
Ask when or why I was, or will be, there.
XXIV. 水道
梦境里的某处乃是个邪恶的场所，
那里高耸而废弃的建筑挤满在
一条深邃，漆黑而狭窄的水道两旁，猛烈地散发出
骇人事物的臭气，而油腻的涌流在水道里全速奔走。
小巷里的旧墙在头顶上方几乎快要碰在一起，
在缠绕中通向任何人可能或不可能知道的街道；
微弱的月光流泻出幽灵般的光芒，
照耀在长排窗户上，漆黑而死寂。
没有任何脚步声存在于此，而那唯一安稳的声音
是来自那油腻的水流，它在石桥下方悄悄流走，
沿着它那深深的引水槽的两侧
通向某个模糊而凝固了的海洋。
没人活着讲述，是在什么时候，那条水流
从这粘土的世界上，冲走了它遗失在梦里的区域。
XXIV. The Canal
Somewhere in dream there is an evil place
Where tall, deserted buildings crowd along
A deep, black, narrow channel, reeking strong
Of frightful things whence oily currents race.
Lanes with old walls half meeting overhead
Wind off to streets one may or may not know,
And feeble moonlight sheds a spectral glow
Over long rows of windows, dark and dead.
There are no footfalls, and the one soft sound
Is of the oily water as it glides
Under stone bridges, and along the sides
Of its deep flume, to some vague ocean bound.
None lives to tell when that stream washed away
Its dream-lost region from the world of clay.
XXV. 圣?陶德的
“当心圣?陶德的破裂钟声！”我听到他叫喊着，
此时我正投身于那些疯狂的巷道，
它们纠缠在昏暗而暧昧的迷宫里，
位于那条河流南岸，古老的世纪于此进入梦乡。
他身形鬼祟，驼着背，衣衫褴褛，
而转瞬间已在蹒跚中消失于视野之外，
所以我仍旧在夜晚里向前探寻，
朝着那有更多充满怨恨，参差不齐的屋顶弧线升起的地方。
没有指南述说了这里潜伏的是什么——
但现在我听到另一个老人尖叫道：
“当心圣?陶德的破裂钟声！”并渐渐消逝，
我踌躇了，这时又一个胡须灰白的人在恐惧中沙哑地叫道：
“当心圣?陶德的破裂钟声！”在惊骇中，我逃跑了——
直到突然那漆黑的螺旋尖塔在前方模糊地出现为止。
XXV. St. Toad’s
“Beware St. Toad’s cracked chimes!” I heard him scream
As I plunged into those mad lanes that wind
In labyrinths obscure and undefined
South of the river where old centuries dream.
He was a furtive figure, bent and ragged,
And in a flash had staggered out of sight,
So still I burrowed onward in the night
Toward where more roof-lines rose, malign and jagged.
No guide-book told of what was lurking here –
But now I heard another old man shriek:
“Beware St.Toad’s cracked chimes!” And growing weak,
I paused, when a third greybeard croaked in fear:
“Beware St. Toad’s cracked chimes!” Aghast, I fled –
Till suddenly that black spire loomed ahead.
XXVI. 熟悉的人们
约翰?瓦特雷居住在离镇子一英里左右的地方，
那些山丘在那儿开始密密地挤在一起；
自从看到他让他的农场垮掉的方式之后，
我们绝对没想到他的才智溜走得如此迅速。
他曾在一些发现于他的住所阁楼附近的
怪异书籍上花费了大量时间，
直到他脸部布满了奇异的皱折线条为止，
同时亲属们都说他们不喜欢他的样子。
当他开始发出那些夜晚的吼叫时，我们宣布
他最好还是被锁起来，以免造成危害，
于是三个来自艾尔斯伯里镇农场的男人
前去制住他——但他们却各自逃了回来，充满恐惧。
他们发现他正和两个蜷缩着的存在交谈，
而它们在他们踏入后随即用雄伟的黑色双翼飞了出来。
XXVI. The Familiars
John Whateley lived about a mile from town,
Up where the hills begin to huddle thick;
We never thought his wits were very quick,
Seeing the way he let his farm run down.
He used to waste his time on some queer books
He’d found around the attic of his place,
Till funny lines got creased into his face,
And folks all said they didn’t like his looks.
When he began those night-howls we declared
He’d better be locked up away from harm,
So three men from the Aylesbury town farm
Went for him – but came back alone and scared.
They’d found him talking to two crouching things
That at their step flew off on great black wings.
XXVII. 古旧的灯塔
冷原之上，岩石外露的山峰阴冷而显露地
耸立在人眼中太过昏暗的凛冽群星之下，
而黄昏时，会有一束孤单的光线从那儿射出，
这遥远的蓝色光芒让牧羊人们在祈祷中哭诉。
他们说（尽管没人去过那儿）那光来自于
一盏位于岩石高塔中的航标灯，
最后一位上古者独自生活在那里，
同时伴随着鼓的节拍与“混沌”畅谈。
那个存在，他们低语道，戴着一副黄色的丝绸面具，
这面具上奇异的皱褶似乎隐藏着一张
不属于这个地球的脸，不过没人胆敢仅仅去询问
那些从内部膨胀出来的特征到底是什么。
许多人，在他们最年轻的时候，想探寻出那耀眼光芒，
但他们最终找到的东西，永远没人会知道。
XXVII. The Elder Pharos
From Leng, where rocky peaks climb bleak and bare
Under cold stars obscure to human sight,
There shoots at dusk a single beam of light
Whose far blue rays make shepherds whine in prayer.
They say (though none has been there) that it comes
Out of a pharos in a tower of stone,
Where the last Elder One lives on alone,
Talking to Chaos with the beat of drums.
The Thing, they whisper, wears a silken mask
Of yellow, whose queer folds appear to hide
A face not of this earth, though none dares ask
Just what those features are, which bulge inside.
Many, in man’s first youth, sought out that glow,
But what they found, no one will ever know.
XXVIII. 期待
我没法解释为什么有些事情对我来说
有着一种无法探究的奇迹即将降临的感觉，
或者说是如同一条地平线幕墙上的裂缝，
展现了只有神明才能存在的世界。
那是一种令人呼吸混乱，感觉模糊的期待，
仿佛我勉强回忆起的雄伟壮丽的古老盛况，
或者充满野性的冒险，无影无形，
满是狂喜，又像是一场不受约束的白日梦。
它存在于落日中，在奇异城市的螺旋尖塔里，
在古旧村庄，森林，和雾气弥漫的山丘草原上，
南风中，大海里，小山旁，还有灯火通明的城镇里，
古旧花园里，模模糊糊听到的歌中，以及明月的火光里。
虽然单单是它的诱惑就值得让生命存在，
却没人理解或猜测它给予的一切暗示着什么。
XXVIII. Expectancy
I cannot tell why some things hold for me
A sense of unplumbed marvels to befall,
Or of a rift in the horizon’s wall
Opening to worlds where only gods can be.
There is a breathless, vague expectancy,
As of vast ancient pomps I half recall,
Or wild adventures, uncorporeal,
Ecstasy-fraught, and as a day-dream free.
It is in sunsets and strange city spires,
Old villages and woods and misty downs,
South winds, the sea, low hills, and lighted towns,
Old gardens, half-heard songs, and the moon’s fires.
But though its lure alone makes life worth living,
None gains or guesses what it hints at giving.
XXIX. 思乡
每年一度，在秋季依依不舍的热情中，
那些鸟儿们出发飞越过一片荒凉的汪洋大海，
互相呼唤，叽叽喳喳，在充满欢乐的匆忙中
前往某片它们内心的记忆所知晓的土地。
那些雄伟的阶梯花园中，鲜艳花苞随风飘动，
还有一串串尝起来无比甘美而满足的芒果，
而神殿的果园中树枝交错，挡在阴凉的小道上方——
所有这一切都在它们模糊的梦境中展现。
它们在大海边寻找着过去属于它们的海滩的痕迹——
找寻着那座高耸的城市，遍布白墙和塔楼——
但却只有空空的水域在眼前延伸，
所以最终它们再一次掉转了方向。
而沉没的深渊中，异形水螅聚集的地方，
那些古旧的高楼怀念着它们迷失却又牢记着的歌。
XXIX. Nostalgia
Once every year, in autumn’s wistful glow,
The birds fly out over an ocean waste,
Calling and chattering in a joyous haste
To reach some land their inner memories know.
Great terraced gardens where bright blossoms blow,
And lines of mangoes luscious to the taste,
And temple-groves with branches interlaced
Over cool paths – all these their vague dreams shew.
They search the sea for marks of their old shore –
For the tall city, white and turreted –
But only empty waters stretch ahead,
So that at last they turn away once more.
Yet sunken deep where alien polyps throng,
The old towers miss their lost, remembered song.
XXX. 背景
我绝不会被原始粗糙而新奇事物束缚，
因为我在一个旧镇里第一次看到了那片光芒，
在那镇上我的窗口外挤成一团的层层屋顶向下倾斜，
直到抵达一座古雅的海港，如梦似幻。
街道里有着遍布雕刻的门廊，
落日的光线淹没了古旧的楣窗和小小的窗格，
而乔治亚式的尖顶顶端竖立着镀金的风向标——
这些便是我孩童时代梦境中形成的景象。
这样的宝藏，在小心翼翼潜移默化中与时代别离，
不得不放松这些对脆弱幻影的控制，
这些幻影轻轻飞越变幻的习性和混乱的信念，
穿过尘世和天堂间那些亘古不变的墙垒。
它们割断了须臾间的纽带，让我自由地
在永世之前独自伫立。
XXX. Background
I never can be tied to raw, new things,
For I first saw the light in an old town,
Where from my window huddled roofs sloped down
To a quaint harbour rich with visionings.
Streets with carved doorways where the sunset beams
Flooded old fanlights and small window-panes,
And Georgian steeples topped with gilded vanes –
These were the sights that shaped my childhood dreams.
Such treasures, left from times of cautious leaven,
Cannot but loose the hold of flimsier wraiths
That flit with shifting ways and muddled faiths
Across the changeless walls of earth and heaven.
They cut the moment’s thongs and leave me free
To stand alone before eternity.
XXXI. 居住者
在巴比伦王国还崭新无比时它已老旧不堪了；
没人知道到底它在那土堆之下沉睡了多久，
但在那土堆中我们的发掘铲最终找到了
它的花岗岩砖块，让它重见天日。
它有着巨大的走道和基墙，
还有破碎的路板和塑像，上面的雕刻展示了
某些奇幻的存在，来自许久以前，
比那人类的世界所能回忆起的任何事物更加古老。
然后我们看到了那些往下延伸的石阶，
穿过一扇堵塞了的布满雕饰的白云石大门，
通往某个永夜的黑暗避难所，
在那儿古老的印记和原始的秘密显得无比险恶。
我们清理出了一条通道——但当我们听到下方传出那些
沉重的脚步声时，我们在疯狂中飞速逃跑了。
XXXI. The Dweller
It had been old when Babylon was new;
None knows how long it slept beneath that mound,
Where in the end our questing shovels found
Its granite blocks and brought it back to view.
There were vast pavements and foundation-walls,
And crumbling slabs and statues, carved to shew
Fantastic beings of some long ago
Past anything the world of man recalls.
And then we saw those stone steps leading down
Through a choked gate of graven dolomite
To some black haven of eternal night
Where elder signs and primal secrets frown.
We cleared a path – but raced in mad retreat
When from below we heard those clumping feet.
XXXII. 异化
他实实在在的肉体从未远离过，
因为每个黎明他发现自己还在平时的地方，
但每个夜晚他的精神爱上了飞速前行
穿过远离日常的深渊和世界。
他已看到亚狄斯星，还保留住了神志，
并且从古里科地带安全回归，
而那时，静寂夜晚的另一侧，诱人的笛声
从扭曲空间后方的虚空中传了出来。
那天早晨，他如同一个老人般苏醒，
然后从那时起对他来说没有任何事物看上去和以前一样了。
漂浮在四周的物体朦胧而黯淡——
如同某个更宏大的轮廓的虚假幻影般无足轻重的片段。
现在他的亲人和朋友都是一群异形，
而他徒劳地挣扎着想要成为它们的一员。
XXXII. Alienation
His solid flesh had never been away,
For each dawn found him in his usual place,
But every night his spirit loved to race
Through gulfs and worlds remote from common day.
He had seen Yaddith, yet retained his mind,
And come back safely from the Ghooric zone,
When one still night across curved space was thrown
That beckoning piping from the voids behind.
He waked that morning as an older man,
And nothing since has looked the same to him.
Objects around float nebulous and dim –
False, phantom trifles of some vaster plan.
His folk and friends are now an alien throng
To which he struggles vainly to belong.
XXXIII. 海港的汽笛声
越过古旧的屋顶，穿过腐坏的尖塔，
夜里那海港的汽笛声始终来回往复；
嗓音从诡异的码头上，从远方的白沙滩上，
还从传说般的大洋中传来，四处散布如同混杂的合唱。
每一个声音对别的来说都显得怪异而陌生，
但他们全部都被黄道航路之上压抑的深渊里
传出的某种力量以令人费解的方式聚集起来，
融合进了同一宇宙那嗡嗡作响的神秘声音中。
穿过朦胧的梦境，他们带着一条传达中的短小信息，
它包含着更多朦胧的形体，暗示以及意图；
还有外界虚空传出的回声，和精妙的线索，
传达给了他们自身也无法描述的存在。
一如既往，我们发觉在那合唱中，微弱地混杂着
一些没有任何地球船只曾送出过的音符。
XXXIII. Harbour Whistles
Over old roofs and past decaying spires
The harbour whistles chant all through the night;
Throats from strange ports, and beaches far and white,
And fabulous oceans, ranged in motley choirs.
Each to the other alien and unknown,
Yet all, by some obscurely focussed force
From brooding gulfs beyond the Zodiac’s course,
Fused into one mysterious cosmic drone.
Through shadowy dreams they send a marching line
Of still more shadowy shapes and hints and views;
Echoes from outer voids, and subtle clues
To things which they themselves cannot define.
And always in that chorus, faintly blent,
We catch some notes no earth-ship ever sent.
XXXIV. 重温
这条路通往一个黑暗的，草木稀疏的荒野，
这儿被苔藓染灰的砾石在发霉的土地上形成了石堆，
而奇妙的水滴，令人焦虑，冰凉刺骨，
从下方深渊里看不见的溪流中喷射而出。
在使人迷惑的灌木丛和形态异样的树木里，
没有一丝风，也没有一丁点儿声音。
前方也没有任何视野——直到突然，
在我脚下道路的正前方，我看到了一座巨大怪异的土岗。
那些陡峭的斜坡向上延伸，隐约快要接近天顶，
其上长满繁茂的绿草，同时杂乱地堆砌着
一列逐渐通往令人无比恐惧高度的破碎的熔岩阶梯，
而对于任何人类来说这阶梯过于巨大无法踏足。
我发出尖叫——并同时知晓是怎样原初的星辰和年份
把我从属于人类如梦境般短暂易逝的天空下带了回去！
XXXIV. Recapture
The way led down a dark, half-wooded heath
Where moss-grey boulders humped above the mould,
And curious drops, disquieting and cold,
Sprayed up from unseen streams in gulfs beneath.
There was no wind, nor any trace of sound
In puzzling shrub, or alien-featured tree,
Nor any view before – till suddenly,
Straight in my path, I saw a monstrous mound.
Half to the sky those steep sides loomed upspread,
Rank-grassed, and cluttered by a crumbling flight
Of lava stairs that scaled the fear-topped height
In steps too vast for any human tread.
I shrieked – and knew what primal star and year
Had sucked me back from man’s dream-transient sphere!
XXXV. 黄昏之星
我从那隐藏的寂静之地里看见了它，
那里古老的树林几乎快要把那片草地幽禁起来。
它透过所有落日的余辉闪耀着——起初很淡薄，
但随后它的表面逐渐明亮了起来。
夜晚降临，而那孤独的信标，呈琥珀色，
在我视野里以它旧时从未有过的方式律动着；
那黄昏之星——只是渐渐变成了千千万万
在这肃静与孤寂之中萦绕于心头的感受。
它在那颤抖的天空中描绘出了诡异的图画——
始终充满在我双眼中的那些模糊的记忆——
巨大的塔楼和花园；奇妙的大海和天空，
属于某种模糊的生命——我绝不可能吐露出它们的位置。
但现在我知道穿过那宇宙的穹顶，
那些光线正从我遥远的被遗忘的家乡召唤着。
XXXV. Evening Star
I saw it from that hidden, silent place
Where the old wood half shuts the meadow in.
It shone through all the sunset’s glories – thin
At first, but with a slowly brightening face.
Night came, and that lone beacon, amber-hued,
Beat on my sight as never it did of old;
The evening star – but grown a thousandfold
More haunting in this hush and solitude.
It traced strange pictures on the quivering air –
Half-memories that had always filled my eyes –
Vast towers and gardens; curious seas and skies
Of some dim life – I never could tell where.
But now I knew that through the cosmic dome
Those rays were calling from my far, lost home.
XXXVI. 连续性
在某些远古的事物中存在着一种痕迹，
某种模糊本质的痕迹——超越形态或者重量；
一种稀薄纤细的以太，尚未定型，
却与时空的一切规律紧紧相连。
一种模糊，隐蔽的连续性迹象，
外在的双眼绝不可能完全辨别；
一种闭锁了的维度的迹象，庇护着流逝而去的时代，
而除了隐藏的钥匙以外都无法触及。
它最让我感动的时候是当倾斜的日光灼烧在
紧靠一座小山的古旧农场建筑上时，
日光描绘出了静静地徘徊中，来自许多世纪的形状，
那些世纪不如我们所知的这个更像一个梦境。
在那诡异的光线中我感到，我距离那些
被固定的群体并不遥远，时代即是它们的部分方面。
XXXVI. Continuity
There is in certain ancient things a trace
Of some dim essence – more than form or weight;
A tenuous aether, indeterminate,
Yet linked with all the laws of time and space.
A faint, veiled sign of continuities
That outward eyes can never quite descry;
Of locked dimensions harbouring years gone by,
And out of reach except for hidden keys.
It moves me most when slanting sunbeams glow
On old farm buildings set against a hill,
And paint with life the shapes which linger still
From centuries less a dream than this we know.
In that strange light I feel I am not far
From the fixt mass whose sides the ages are.
